[takes a swig from a bottle of vodka, blows his nose on his blanket]

NEIL: You're ill?! I'm the one who's ill. Listen! [coughs pathetically] Nobody feels worse than me. And your shouting's not helping at all, Rick!

RICK: Oh, stop whining, Neil! God, you're practically brain-dead as it is! I don't see how a pathetic little cold's going to make much difference! You're probably not even ill anyway. You're probably just lying to try and impress us!

NEIL: Oh, yeah?! Well, how come I'm all hot and sweaty then?

RICK: Well, I think most of us would rather not go into that!

VYVYAN: Will you two shut up? I'm trying to be ill! [looks through a pile of used tissues] Oh, God! There's nothing left to wipe my nose on. Even SPG's all covered in snot.

[Vyvyan's hamster is a revolting shade of green]

[Vyvyan rips off the sleeve of his pajamas, blows his nose]

RICK: Stop shouting, Neil!

NEIL: Stop shouting yourself!

RICK: I am not shouting!!

NEIL: Yes, you are!!

RICK: I bloody well am not!! If you want to hear shouting, matey, this is it!! [Starts screaming like a two-year old]

VYVYAN: [takes part of his sleeve, sticks it in the top of the vodka bottle] It's funny, but being ill makes me lose my usual tolerant and easy-going approach to communal living.

[lights the Molotov cocktail, throws it across the hall, where it explodes]

[The wall between Neil and Rick is mostly gone. Vyvyan walks in.]

NEIL: Yeah, thanks, Vyv. That petrol bomb's really cleared my sinuses.

VYVYAN: Why aren't you dead?

RICK: I'm not prepared to discuss it with you, Vyvyan. You will be hearing from my solicitors in the morning. I'm going to write to my MP.

[takes out paper and pencil]

RICK: Oh. Well, then I shall write to the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen!

[Mike comes in, carrying a fish]

VYVYAN: It's a fish, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, thanks. [leaves]

RICK: [writing] Dear Mr. Echo....

VYVYAN: Why'd I do that?

RICK: Ah, Vyvyan, beginning to regret it now, are you?

VYVYAN: Of course I'm beginning to regret it. That was nearly a full bottle of vodka! That's £7.99 you owe me, ploppy pants.

RICK: Oh, stop being so blinking bourgousie! All property is theft, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: All right, then. Where's your girlie purse?

MIKE: [knocks, comes back in with the fish] All right, I didn't finish my sentence. I meant to say, what's this fish doing in my bed?

VYVYAN: It's not in your bed, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Vyv. [leaves]

VYVYAN: [takes Rick's coin purse, removes some money] Ha ha! Found it!

RICK: You put that back! That's my personal property!

NEIL: You just said all property is theft, Rick.

RICK: Well, yes, it is.

VYVYAN: Yeah, so I'm nicking it.

RICK: Stop! Thief! Thief!

NEIL: Thieves rush in where angels fear to tread.

RICK: No, it's fools, Neil. Fools.

NEIL: Thieves rush in where fools fear to tread.

RICK: Yeah! Andy Williams said that!

VYVYAN: Alexander Pope!

RICK: Oh, well, you're a little snob, aren't you, Vyvyan?

VYVYAN: Wimp! Pervert! Knob-end!

RICK: Oh, Vyvyan, what repartee! Sticks and stones my break my bones!

VYVYAN: That's the first sensible thing you've said all day.

[picks up a loose board, crushes Rick over the head with it]

RICK, VYVYAN, NEIL: [together] What fish?

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Sorry. [leaves]

[Vyvyan hits Rick with the board again. Neil sneezes violently]

NEIL: I can't stop.

[Sneezes, and snot hits Rick in the head. Sneezes again, and a huge stream of snot shatters a vase]

[Vyvyan runs out and comes back with his pillowcase. He puts it over Neil's head. Neil sneezes and it flies off.]

[They crash Neil's head through the window. He sneezes and the snot hits a bald man working on his car, right in the head. The guy throws a brick back, but he is aiming at the wrong window. Another brick hits a woman standing in the window. The car man chuckles and walks over by the bus stop on the corner. The woman throws a lamp at him, but hits another man waiting at the bus.]

BRICK THROWER: Yeah! Good shot, wasn't it? [The Bus Man punches the Brick Thrower in the head, and they start to fight. A car drives down the street, crashing into the Brick Thrower's car. More fighting breaks out.]

[Rick is taping a green plastic bag over Neil's torso]

VYVYAN: Very probably, Michael. But we've got to keep the bogeys off the wall. [leaves]

NEIL: [sneezes] Oh, wow! It's really horrible in here. Why did you have to use Rick's laundry bag?

RICK: Oh, well, there's gratitude for you! It's me who's going to have snotty undies for the next two terms, Neil. It's me they're going to be calling "Bogey Bum". Especially at the next Friends of Stalin Society "Show Your Bottom" competition.

VYVYAN: [comes back with a duffle bag] I'm afraid I couldn't find any needles, so we'll have to use 6-inch nails.

RICK: Vyvyan, you can't do acupuncture with 6-inch nails.

NEIL: Well, you better think of something quickly, cause this bag's getting really full. [sneezes]

MIKE: I'm going to the chemist.

NEIL: Oh, great. To get some medicine for our colds?

MIKE: No, I fancy the girl who works there.

NEIL: Oh, Mike, in that case, do you think that you could get something while you're there to clean the toilet with?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together, shocked] What?!

MIKE: [pause] I don't think I can, Neil. [leaves]

VYVYAN: You can't clean the toilet, Neil. It'll lose all its character.

RICK: We never clean the toilet, Neil. That's what being a student is all about! No way, Harpic! No way, Dot! All that Blue Loo scene is for squares. One thing's for sure, Neil. When Cliff Richard wrote "Wired for Sound", no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory. He was living on the limit, just like me. Where the only place to put bleach is in your hair!

VYVYAN: Living on Limits? What, are you on a diet?

RICK: No, I live on The Limit, Vyvyan. The Limit. Because I'm a Rider at the Gates of Dawn and I take no prisoners.

[Vyvyan throws a brick at Rick, hitting him in the forehead]

[puts a plunger in the toilet, the plunger being eaten by the lavatory, the rim of the bowl acting as a mouth]

Hey! That's cannibalism. I'd better get some Domestos. [leaves]

[Vyvyan is beating on Rick, who is still prone from the aforementioned brick.]

VYVYAN: No, Neil, no. It's Madness this week.

[Mike walks out the front door into the street, past Madness, who are playing "Our House" with cheap fake instruments. Fighting is going on everywhere in the street.]

[Neil is sitting on his bed. Vyvyan is standing over him, while Rick is on his bed, reading a newspaper]

NEIL: So what's new?

VYVYAN: OK, here it goes.

[hammers a nail into the top of Neil's nead]

[Mike is talking to the girl behind the drugstore counter]

[Vyvyan is hitting Rick in the head with a hammer]

[walks off, still in his pajamas and robe]

[The band finishes the song and starts smashing their instruments, the sax over the TV camera, then joining in the fighting. An ambulance pulls up, along with an Army truck and police van. In the back of the police van is a policeman with Brian Damage, a dangerous criminal in black hat and jacket]

POLICEMAN: Go on, run 'em down!

VAN DRIVER: I can't do that!

POLICEMAN: Why not? You're a policeman, aren't you?!

DAMAGE: They were a great band, weren't they? Middle Of The Road, "ooh, ee, chirpy chirpy cheap cheap"?

POLICEMAN: Shut your mouth, Damage!

DAMAGE: 'Ere, 'Mr. Damage' to you, copper. And nobody tells Mr. Damage to shut his mouth. Not if they wanna keep the head in the vicinity of the shoulders. [opens his mouth very wide] All right?

POLICEMAN: Listen. Shut your mouth, Damage! [Damage attacks him]

[Neil is wandering around the living room, sneezing constantly. The bag is still over his head, and there's about 8 nails sticking out of his body. Rick and Vyvyan are in the kitchen, watching him.]

VYVYAN: [holds up a large knife] I think he'll get a shock when he feels this. We've run out of nails, so we'll have to start using the cutlery.

RICK: No! Vyvyan, be sensible. I've got to eat off that.

VYVYAN: I suppose you're right.

[puts down the knife, pauses, and throws himself on the ground, screaming]

[Neil starts sneezing again. Vyvyan stands]

RICK: [scared to death, trying to compose himself] I'm not surprised, Vyvyan. That was pathetic. You must do something more subtle.

VYVYAN: Neil, if you don't stop sneezing by the time I count three, I'mgoing to cut your bottoms off and ram them up your nose. One...

[Neil sneezes]

[Neil sneezes]

[Rick bends Neil over the sofa as Vyvyan gets the knife again]

[Mike walks in, makes a phone call]

VYVYAN: 2.999 recurring.....

RICK: Do it!

[There are two shots, and Damage runs into the room, carrying a large shotgun. He throws Mike into the living room. Rick, Mike and Vyvyan put their hands up. Neil stays bent over, facing the couch. Damage runs into the kitchen.]

RICK: Goodness, how exciting! Are you an anarchist?

DAMAGE: No, I am not. I am Brian Damage Balowski. I am, however, a violent and highly dangerous escaped criminal madman!

RICK: What would you like us to do?

DAMAGE: Right. Everybody us against this wall, NOW!!

[The boys don't move]

DAMAGE: Eh?

RICK: Oh, God. What happens if anybody moves?!

DAMAGE: What happens?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together] Yes!

DAMAGE: All right. Terribly sorry, terribly sorry. If anybody moves, I'll show you what happens, right.

[Takes bag off of Neil's head with a disgusting "slurp". Neil is covered with green slime.]

NEIL: Hi there. Are you the doctor?

[Damage head butts him. Neil falls backward into a nail, staggers, holding his butt in pain.]

DAMAGE: Thanks, Doc?! Are you being sar-carstic or something, my son? That's one of my least favorite things, that happens to be. Sar-carsm.

SPG: [watching everything from his seat on top of the fridge] Really. Hah-huh.How incredibly interesting. [sighs]

DAMAGE: I was walking a dog, and this bloke, he comes to me and says, "Nice day, innit?" But it wasn't. It wasn't a nice day. It was a little bit cloudy. Which makes him very sar-carstic. So acting as if nothing would happen, I took his head, right, put it in me mouth, right, acting dead casual-like, clamped me teeth, and BIT HIS HEAD OFF!! Cause I hate people being sar-carstic.

NEIL: I wasn't, you know, being sar-castic.

DAMAGE: Weren't ya? Well, forget everything I just said then, all right?

VYVYAN: What? Everything from when you first came in?

DAMAGE: Now, if you don't get up against that wall by the time I count three, I'm gonna blow your heads off one by one, all right?! Ah-one. Ah-two...

[A lady runs in. She is wearing a leopard skirt and cheap fur coat. Her hair is dyed a shade of pink. She's pushing a shopping cart full of junk.]

DAMAGE: Oh, God!!

VYVYAN'S MUM: Sorry I didn't knock, but some joker's impaled a head on the front door. Hello, Vyvyan. [pinches Vyvyan's cheek]

VYVYAN: Piss off.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's no way to talk to your mother, Vyvyan!

VYVYAN: All right, then. Piss off, mum.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's better.

VYVYAN: What do you want?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Well, what're moms for?

VYVYAN: I dunno. Having babies?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Don't be so sexist, Vyvyan.

[squeezes him hard in the crotch]

VYVYAN'S MUM: No. I heard you was ill, so I brought you a present.

VYVYAN: The last present you gave me was a box of matches.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That was a joke!

VYVYAN: I was only eight weeks old.

DAMAGE: Here, excuse me, excuse me. But I'm not actually known for my patience.

RICK: Oh. Oh. Well, you're probably not Dr. Kildare then!

[Damage hits Rick with the butt of his shotgun and flattens him]

VYVYAN'S MUM: [removes a bottle from the cart] A bottle of vodka.

VYVYAN: Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Mum. [takes the bottle, removes the cap, tips it over] This is empty.

VYVYAN'S MUM: [flips him the two-fingered salute] Ha ha! Up yours, ugly!

[Runs out]

VYVYAN: Oh, very handy!

DAMAGE: Otherwise, I'm gonna blow your heads off, all right? Now, everybody up against that wall, now!!

[Pushes the four boys against the wall by the front door. The ceiling collapses in front of the door as they hit the wall.]

MIKE: I think I'm quite responsible, actually.

NEIL: Yeah, Mike is, yeah.

RICK: Listen, listen! Somebody has got to clean all this muck up, and I can tell you one thing, matey boy, it's not going to be me.

VYVYAN: What does a bit of mess matter? We're all going to be dead in twenty minutes anyway.

DAMAGE: Yeah. [Cocks gun, aims at them]

NEIL: [panics] Oh, no! Oh, wow! Oh, heavy heavy heavy!! Oooooohhh

MIKE: What're you upset for? You've always wanted to die.

NEIL: Who's talking about dying? I just remembered! My parents are coming round to tea!! [Rick and Vyvyan start screaming]

MIKE: Don't panic. Don't panic! Worse things happen at sea.

RICK: Like what, Mike? Like what?!

MIKE: Well, like, you could be on a nice cruise in the South China Sea, having a lovely time. There's terrible weather, a big storm, and the ship sinks. You fall overboard, you're drowning! This big shark swims up to you and says, "By the way, Neil's parents are coming to tea in 30 seconds." That's when you panic. Come on!

[Everybody runs around, cleaning up in super-speed motion. Damage polishes his rifle. Vyvyan throws some dirty dishes out the window. Mike hides the rubble from the collapsed ceiling under a rug in the hall. Rick and Vyvyan dump the garbage from the table into the sink, and Rick sits on it to pack it down. Neil replaces a "Smash the State" poster with one that reads "Keep London Tidy". Mike dusts the filth off the couch. Vyvyan removes the head of Damage's policeman friend off the front door. He takes it into a back room, where three old witches are stirring a big black kettle.]

VYVYAN: Eh?

WITCH #2: All hail McVyvyan, Thane of the Outside Toilet, and that little gravelly patch next to the garden shed.

WITCH #3: All hail McVyvyan, that shall be king of the whole house here after!

VYVYAN: Are you suggesting that I murder Mike, Rick, and Neil, in order to have the whole house to myself?

WITCH #3: Yes!

VYVYAN: It's a thought, I suppose. Make a great play!

[drops the head into the pot, leaves]

[Mike is relaxing on the sofa, Rick is sweeping up, and Neil is just panicking]

[A knock at the door. Neil answers it. His parents are well-dressed and well-groomed, in their late 50s. They look extremely out of place among all the fighting and the shabby house. Neil shows them in]

NEIL'S MUM: Hello.

[kisses him as if she doesn't want to touch him]

[Neil takes his coat, puts it in the hall closet]

[They walk into the living room. Rick is at the kitchen table among a stack of books. Damage is sitting quietly in the corner]

RICK: Oh, hello! [runs over] Pleased to meet you! Sorry, so many essays to write! [laughs, snorts] I'm surprised my arms aren't falling off! Perhaps they are, look out, bonk! [flails his arms wildly] You'll have to watch out for me because I'm a bit nutty. Aren't I, everybody?! A bit nutty?

[sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry]

NEIL: This is Mike. He's studying, uh....er...

MIKE: Well, I'm in what you'd call the School of Life, Mrs. Pye.

[He pinches her bum and she screams]

NEIL: Yeah, er, that's Vyvyan, Mummy. He's going to be a doctor.

VYVYAN: [runs over] How do you do? [puts his face in hers]

NEIL'S MUM: How fascinating. I think I'm going to be sick. [turns away]

NEIL'S DAD: And is this fellow another one of your colleagues?

NEIL: No, that's the most violent and highly dangerous....

DAMAGE: [laughs] That's Neil's little joke, sir. Brian, Brian Damage. Currently working on my PhD in astrophysics, actually. But recently I did work on a degree in art history. But it was no use for a job.

NEIL'S DAD: What kind of job had you in mind?

DAMAGE: Maybe some kind of a bank job, you know.

NEIL'S DAD: Nice safe job?

DAMAGE: Yeah, possibly, possibly.

NEIL'S MUM: Did you make your bed?

NEIL: No, no, I bought it.

NEIL'S MUM: Exactly. [Wipes Neil's face with a hanky]

NEIL'S DAD: Now, your mother and I are very disappointed by all this, Neil.

NEIL'S MUM: You have brought shame on your family, Neil. I daren't show my face at Lady Fanshaw's bridge evenings, now that you've taken up with these television people. I mean, what kind of monsters are you?! I mean, The Young Ones. Well, it all sounds very good, doesn't it? But just look around you. There's trash!

[smashes a chair to splinters]

MIKE: I think you'll find that was specially designed to fall apart like that, Mrs. Pye. Rick was going to get hit over the head with it in the next scene.

NEIL: [embarassed] I thought you'd be, you know, glad I was doing something worthwhile.

NEIL'S DAD: Worthwhile?! I mean, it's a bloody outrage! It's a waste of a licensing fee. Pardon my French, but why can't you be in one of those decent situation comedies that your mother likes? What's the thing called?

VYVYAN: Grange Hill!

NEIL'S DAD: That's the one!

[Two schoolboys in school uniforms come running wildly through the halls of their school]

SCHOOLBOY #2: Great! We can use the banners left over from the last protest we organized, so that racism wouldn't be an issue in this school.

SCHOOLBOY #1: Good! Then that's what we'll do. I'll get Mucker, Trucker, Ducker, and Sucker. You get Spaz!

SCHOOLBOY #2: But I am Spaz!

SCHOOLBOY #1: Oh. Well, I'd better get Spaz as well then. But we've got to hurry. [They start running, but bump into a stern-looking man in a 3-piece suit]

SCHOOLBOY #2: Sorry, Mr. Liberal. We were in a hurry.

MR. LIBERAL: Hang on, you pair of young scruffy tearaways. Don't you realize the way you act is influencing millions of children to talk Cockney and be insubordinate?!

SCHOOLBOY #1: Come on, sir. Don't be silly! We're the only kidds in Britain who never say fu....

[Back to the house]

NEIL'S DAD: I'm sorry, my dear. It was my mistake. I meant The Good Life.

NEIL'S MUM: Oh, yes. That's the one.

[The cartoon and theme music for The Good Life appear, but Vyvyan tears it down.]

[collapses on the couch, exhuasted]

RICK: Well, you can just shut up, Vyvyan. You can just about bloomin' well shut up! Cause if you've got anything horrid to say about Felicity Kendall, you can just about bloomin' well say it to me first!! All right?!

VYVYAN: Rick, I just did.

RICK: Oh! Oh!! You did, did you?! Well, I've got a good mind to give you a ruddy good punch on the bottom for what you just said! You're talking about the woman I love!

NEIL: Yeah, and me! I love her too.

NEIL'S DAD: yes, well, I agree with the spotty twerps on that one. Felicity Kendall is sweetly pretty, and just what a real girlie should be. Why, speaking as a feminist myself, I can safely say this: that Felicity Kendall is a wonderful woman, and I want to protect her.

VYVYAN: [sarcastic] Well, it's the first time I've ever heard it called that!

NEIL'S MUM: Neil! Say something!

NEIL: [quietly, knowing what Vyvyan can do to him] Shut up, Vyvyan, that's my dad you're talking to.

VYVYAN: Did you see that episode where the pig was going to have a baby? Now, that was quite a promising idea. But it was all done so bloody nicely! We didn't see anything! Even the policeman was nice.

[A policeman comes in (different than the earlier one), smashing a lamp with his nightstick]

[threatens Neil's Dad with his stick]

VYVYAN: Oh, do you mean like 'Big Jobbies'?

POLICEMAN: All right, now you've really asked for it!

[Picks up a chair, smashes Rick over the head. But it doesn't collapse like it should and he is knocked out.]

MIKE: No. It was that silly cow. [points to Neil's Mom] She smashed the special balsa wood chair earlier on.

NEIL'S MUM: Well, none of this would have happened if you'd been doing a nice program like The Good Life.

[The Good Life music leads into the next scene. The boys are in the back yard, planting a garden.]

VYVYAN: Okey-dokey, Mikey. We've got some of that!

[takes out a board with cabbages stuck to it, sets it down]

VYVYAN: Ah-hah! Just wait one moment, Michael.

[takes out a board with small dogs attached, sings dramatically, laughs]

VYVYAN: Well, you might've laughed, Michael. It took me ages to raid the pet shop and nail 'em all to a plank.

RICK: [walking out from the house] A-ha! The timeless wonder of the English countryside.

[goes to Neil, who is hoeing]

Good grief, Christine, it'd be pretty bloody super to have a snog in a place like this! What do you think, Neil?

NEIL: I don't feel like it, actually, Rick. I've got a lot of work to do!

RICK: Not with you, you sick pervy. I meant with a pretty bloody super girlie who's on for an amazing bit of rumpo. and how's your father...

NEIL: [picks up a large bag of seed packets] OK, I've plowed this bit, right. And now I'm going to sow it. [throws packets of seed down] This self-sufficiency thing really is amazing. We sow the seed, right. Nature grows the seed, and then, we eat the seed. And then, after that, we sow the seed, nature grows the seed, and then, we eat the seed. And then, after that again, we sow the seed, nature grows the seed....

RICK: Oh, shut up, Neil! Shut up! Shut up. It's pathetic. I mean, what about radical magazines? What about Kicker boots?! Can we grow them? No, we can't, can we?! They beauty of your plan, Neil, seems to rest on everyone being really into seeds.

NEIL: No no no, Rick. You don't understand the timeless wonder of the whole thing. We. Sow the seed! Nature grows the seed. We eat the seed. And then....

[Rick clobbers Neil with a shovel. Neil collapses, unmoving.]

[tries to light Neil, but he won't catch fire]

Burn! Burn! Oh, trust Neil to be all soggy! Burn!

[Two men come up and watch Rick, who quickly stands]

MAN #2: Hello.

RICK: Hello!

MAN #1: My name's Mick. This is Tess.

TESS: All right, are ya?

RICK: Tess?

MICK: We would've brought Harry, but we don't know anyone called Harry.

RICK: Um, excuse me. [laughs nervously] You're not policemen, are you?

TESS: No, we're not policemen.

[They leave, but return a second later]

RICK: Muck?

MICK: Look, you know, manure.

RICK: Yes?

MICK: We've been told to drop a load in your garden.

RICK: Well, listen, absolutely nobody, I don't care who they are, is doing a two-ton pooh outside of my front door.

TESS: Just thought you might need it to cover up that dead hippie you just murdered, that's all.

RICK: Yes! Yes, bury him! Bury him. But it's not a hippie. It's just a garden gnome, that I accidentally cracked.

[A garden gnome is standing aside, watching]

[Rick kicks it and it shatters][Good Life music again]

[Some time later, Rick is packing down the manure around Neil's body, not doing a very good job, since one of Neil's legs is sticking out. Mike and Vyvyan come out, carrying a row of cans on a board.]

VYVYAN: Brilliant. We are now completely self-sufficient in fertilizer. Speaking of which, where's Neil?

MIKE: Yeah! Where is he? I specifically told him that if we don't sow the seed, nature can't grow the seed, and we can't eat the seed. Eh?

RICK: Ah, er, he's [pause] emigrated. [filled with remorse] And he said to say that you'll never see him again.

VYVYAN: Well, he's left one of his shoes behind.

[takes Neil's shoe off, exposing his bare foot]

MIKE: Bloody idiot.

RICK: [laughs] Yes, I noticed he was hopping when he left.

MIKE: Hang on a minute. Did you say..? [the sky turns dark]

RICK: Oh, no. Night time.

MIKE: Good grief. Oh, well. Boing. [jumps up, motions to the others]

RICK & VYVYAN: [together, jumping] Boing!

MIKE: Time for bed, everyone.

[Mike leads them inside, to the sound of The Good Life music]

[Later on, Neil sits up out of the manure pile]

[On his right, another Neil sits up]

[checks to make sure he's OK]

NEIL #2: Hello?

NEIL: Anybody watching that must've thought it was a negative reality inversion.

[A man and woman are making out in the shadows]

MAN: Yes, it did, a bit.

[They turn their attention back to each other]

NEIL #2: Hello?

NEIL #3: Hello.

NEIL: Oh, wow. [notices the grow-anything fertilizer] Rick planted me. I was the seed. Rick sowed me. Nature grew me. Yeah!

[Rick is lying in bed, tossing and turning, clutching a handkerchief. His conscience calls to him.]

RICK: Shut up. Shut up!

CONSCIENCE: Don't tell me to shut up, you spotty little bastard. I'm your conscience. You killed Neil, didn't you?

RICK: No! No! It wasn't me. It was, uh, Vyvyan and Mike, and I'm going to tell on them as well!

CONSCIENCE: They didn't bloody well do it. It was you!

RICK: Oh, God! Whose side are you on?

CONSCIENCE: Not bloody yours, matey!

RICK: Then get out of my head, poo-hole!

CONSCIENCE: Try and make me, farty breath!

VYVYAN: Rick, will you tell your conscience to keep its voice down?! I'm trying to get some sleep!

[Rick is dreaming of a court scene. Vyvyan and Mike are wearing powdered wigs. Vyvyan is the prosecuting attorney, Mike the judge, with Rick off as the accused on one side.]

RICK: But I'm the People's Poet! The spokesperson of a generation! Kids everywhere look to me for inspiration!

[A group of girls is watching the proceedings from the balcony]

[The girls scream and start to strip]

RICK: I am! I am.

[Gets up, goes downstairs. Kicks a stuffed panda bear sitting in the corner of the stairway.]