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BOTTOM
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by Adrian Edmondson and Rik Mayall
Series 1, Episode 5
'S Up
=====
Richie Rik Mayall
Eddie Adrian Edmondson
Mr. Harrison Roger Sloman
Old Lady Evie Garratt
Mr. Cooper Michael Redfern
Doctor John Wells
Scene 1. The Flat.
------------------
[Sunday morning. Eddie is watching TV; Richie is clearing the kitchen
table.]
Richie: Land of hope and glory, something something else. Land of hope
and glo-- glo-- [drops the plate he's scraping into the bin]
glory, that is where I live. Land of hope and glory...
[He tips the bin out of the window. Dogs bark below.]
Richie: Morning! Ahh, what a lovely day! God, I love Sundays. Sunday
papers, stroll in the park, church, and back home for a nice big
joint of good old English beef. Strawberries and cream, a spot
of tennis, and a smile in the heart of every true Englishman.
[to someone below] Morning Vicar, lovely day! [inaudible
reply] Charming. Somebody got out of bed the wrong side this
morning. Mind you, he got out of the womb the wrong side.
[shouting down] And the same to you with brass knobs on, you
steaming great twat! God, I do feel great today! Ho-ooo, the
English summertime, gets you right there doesn't it Eddie?
Eddie? Eddie! Have you ever seen such glorious sunshine?
Eddie: Close the curtain, I'm trying to watch the TV.
Richie: Oh Eddie, don't be like that! We should be out there, playing
cricket! Come on, it's Sunday, it's a day of rest! Absolutely
nothing to do for twenty-four hours.
Eddie: It's a bit like every other day then really, isn't it?
Richie: Oh come on Ed-die, we can't sit around watching videos all day!
It's a lovely day, the bluebirds are singing--
Eddie: Look, close the curtain, it's just about to get to the exciting
bit! [Richie sighs] Now!!
Richie: Right, right, OK.
[Richie pulls the curtain across. He sighs.]
Richie: Well, this is great, isn't it?
Eddie: Yes. It's just dandy.
Richie: I cooked you a breakfast, you know. Can't find it now. Have to
get the torch out. [softly] Breakfast! Where are you
breakfast?
Eddie: What is it?
Richie: It's your favourite Eddie. I cooked you your -- da da da da da
da daa! -- Sunday fish finger!
Eddie: But I don't like fish fingers.
Richie: Oh no, of course, you don't do you? Huh, I make that mistake
every Sunday don't I? Oh well never mind, I'll eat yours for
you. Mmm-hmm-hmm!
[He chews, then realises it doesn't taste very good. Slyly he sniffs the
fish finger. He turns his head aside and spits it out.]
Richie: Who's that, anyway?
Eddie: Oh, that's Mother Bear.
Richie: I thought she was -- I thought she was dead?
Eddie: No, no, that's Mr. Rabbit. Anyway he's not dead, he's just
asleep in the Dingly Dell. That's how he's missed his birthday
tea, and why they're all out looking for him.
Richie: Hm. It's not very sexy, is it?
Eddie: No. I must say, I expected a lot more from "The Furry Honeypot
Adventure".
Richie: I think this is for kids you know Eddie! I think those Hussein
brothers saw you coming again. Well, what else did you get?
Eddie: "Big Jugs". Hahahaha!
Richie: "Big Jugs"! All right! [examines it] "A history of pottery in
the nineteenth century." Anything else?
Eddie: Well this one's a sure-fire hit. Look. "Swedish Lesbians in
Blackcurrant Jam".
Richie: Yabba-dabba-do! No Eddie, it's "Swedish Legends in Blackcurrant
Jam Making."
Eddie: Aw, come on, it's got to be dirty, it says "Swedish"! [Richie
shakes his head] Oh, what a disaster! That's my whole Sunday
ruined! I spent an hour chosing them, what a swizz! Oh well,
maybe we should stick with "The Furry Honeypot Adventure". You
never know, it might perk up in a minute.
[They watch for a while]
Richie: Hey-up, look, here comes that rabbit again!
Eddie: Whor, yup, well now he should be be on for a bit of action.
Richie: Yeah. I mean, he's a rabbit for Christ's sake!
Eddie: Yeah!
Richie: Yay, yay, yay!
Eddie: Right, here he goes, into the house, and... there's Mrs Bear.
Haha, go on my son! Whup, he's creeping up behind her... oh,
he's going to surprise her... and there go all the little baby
bears. And they're all singing "Happy Birthday"... and having a
bit of a dance. It's not going to get very dirty, is it?
Richie: No... You can sort of tell that, can't you, by the way it says
"The End".
Eddie: Yeah... Well, I'm bloody sick, I don't mind telling you!
[Richie opens the curtains.]
Richie: Well I'm rather glad they weren't dirty actually. I don't think
that, as a Christian, I could look myself in the face whilst
watching a dirty video. I mean, it's Sunday for Christ's sake --
I mean for Heaven's s-- I mean for goodness sake. And are the
masses all in church praising the Lord's name? No, they're all
down the vid shop, trying to get their hands on "Pervy Nights in
Bankok"! It's ironic isn't it. There's plenty of wailing and
gnashing of teeth going on, but it's not happening in church.
Eddie: When did you last go to church?
Richie: Well I don't have to go -- I'm Church of England. What are you,
Eddie?
Eddie: I don't know.
Richie: Well, what was your mother?
Eddie: A wrestler.
Richie: Well, maybe that's enough general knowledge for one day.
[There is a knock at the door.]
Both: Go away!
[Mr. Harrison bursts in, looking flustered.]
Harrison: Hello, gentlemen.
Richie: Ooh, er, Mr. Harrison. Hello. Look, erm, sorry about the rent--
Harrison: No, no.
Richie: Er, er, the fact is the Kruggerand's just crashed so we had to
move into junk bonds and we couldn't get them out of
Lichtenstein 'til the end on the month.
Harrison: No no, no no no.
Richie: I knew you'd understand.
[Richie pushes him through the door and closes it.]
Richie: That was a close one.
[Another knock at the door.]
Richie: Come in.
[It is Mr. Harrison again.]
Richie: Oh, this is intolerable! Talk about Rachman!
Harrison: Look, I'm not here for the rent.
Richie: Oh, great. Come in, sit down. Eddie, a cup of tea!
Eddie: Oh, yes please.
Harrison: Look, boys, you've got to help me, I'm in a dreadful fix. I
completely forgot about my stupid mother's bloody funeral!
Richie: Hhh! Is she dead?
Harrison: Well let's hope so -- bloody coffin cost me two hundred quid!
Cow! Anyway, I've got to go. Please could you run the shop for
me?
Richie: I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison, but I have to confess to being frankly
really rather shocked! I mean, me... running shop... on a Sunday
of all things. Absolutely not.
Harrison: Fifty quid.
Richie: You're on.
Harrison: Right away -- I've got to be in Penge by noon. Come on, I'll
show you the ropes.
Richie: Ah, no no, I don't do lifting. You'll have to show Eddie the
ropes. Show me the till.
Eddie: No no no no, show me the drinks cabinet and the sign that says
"Closed"!
Scene 2. The Shop.
------------------
[Richie, Eddie and Mr. Harrison come in from upstairs.]
Harrison: Why don't they just stick 'em in the bin, all this palaver...
Richie: Eh, Mr. Harrison, have you got a sort of white coat or something
so everyone knows I'm the shopkeeper?
Harrison: Yeah, hang on, I'll get you one. Here y'are -- and here's one
for you Eddie.
Richie: Oh, no no no no no no no, no, haven't you got a sort of brown
one for him? Or what about a little badge or something that just
says "Assistant"?
Harrison: What are you talking about? Look, I'm in a hurry!
Richie: All right, all right. Well, look Eddie, you'll just have to put
your jacket on back to front or something.
Eddie: Piss off!
Richie: Oh don't kick up a stink Eddie, I know what I'm doing. It's
nothing personal. It's just that there is a sort of "Upstairs
Downstairs" thing to any shopping experience, which the shopper
needs to feel reassured about.
Eddie: [reluctantly] All right.
Richie: There. Now everybody knows who everybody is.
Harrison: [sarcastically] Everybody happy now?
Richie: Yes thank you.
Harrison: Right, there's thirty pounds in change in the till, if you'd
just sign there. I'd better be off, see you later. Two hundred
pound for a coffin -- and they set fire to the bastard!
[leaves]
Richie: This is a bit of all right, isn't it Eddie?
Eddie: Yeah! Shame he hasn't got a video section.
Richie: It's a very dignified thing being a shopkeeper, don't you think?
You know, there's power, integrity, snazzy coat...
[Richie opens the flap in the counter to go through. It crashes down with a
crunch on the crisps Eddie has just tipped out for himself.]
Richie: Yeah. Yeah. "Morning." "Morning." "Morning your Lordship. Oh
yes, plenty of gravy mix, you help yourself. I'll just put it on
the slate." "Oi! What do you think you're doing? Shoplifting eh
sonny? Eh? Eh? Eh? What's the matter, haven't you got enough
money? So you thought you'd take it out on me, just because I
earn so much money?"
[He has been miming hitting someone and realises that the imaginary head is
now some way from its body.]
Richie: Ooh, spurt, spurt...
[He puts the head back.]
Richie: "Only kidding little kiddie. Go on, take your Jaffa Cakes and
run along. Go on, off you go. Oh God, why did you make me so
nice? Has he gone? Right."
[He mimes pulling up the aerial on a portable phone and dialling.]
Richie: Eeeep -- bi-bo-bi-bo-bip. "Hello, police? I wanna report a
theft. Yeah, it was little Johnny Cartwright from the flats.
Nail the sucker, bust his ass! Yeah, I want him doing twenty to
ten in the pen! What d'you mean, no evidence? What about the
goddam Jaffa Cakes, asswipe! Yeah, bullshit, bull-shit! Yeah,
well I'm gonna get Mayor Dooley to--"
[A nice old lady has come into the shop and is watching.]
Old Lady: What's the matter, are you mad?
[Richie advances on her with clenched fist.]
Richie: Do you want some of this? Do you? 'Cause you're gonna get it,
you old git! You're gonna get a right load of this right up your
bracket! Right load of this, right in your face!
[She runs out, crying. Richie shouts after her.]
Richie: That's right, run, go on! Just like you did at Goose Green!
Argie! [to a passer-by] Morning. [to himself] Brrrr! [to
Eddie] See? British shopkeeping Eddie, best in the world. Yes,
yes. [walks back to the counter] Tuna, good. We're a nation of
shopkeepers, you know. Oh yes, ye-hh-hmm.
[He lifts the counter flap. It crushes Eddie's crisps again.]
Richie: That's what makes us so great, you know. They don't call it
"Great Luxembourg", do they? Hhhm? Or "Great France"?
Eddie: What's so great about being a nation of shopkeepers?
Richie: "What's so great about being a nation of shopkeepers"?
Eddie: Yes, what's so great about it?
Richie: Well it makes us superior to everyone else. Because we know how
to run a corner shop. Good grief Eddie, it only takes an ounce
of brainpower to see that.
Eddie: Well that should suit you perfectly then.
Richie: How d'you mean, I don't understand that.
[Eddie reads his newspaper.]
Eddie: Gaw! The whole cast of Brookside are lesbians!
Richie: Yeah? British journalism Eddie, best in the world.
Eddie: Bloody Nora! Neil Kinnock's grandparents were homosexual
Martians! He's kept quiet about that, hasn't he?
Richie: Hhhhm.
Eddie: Lucky I read that, I was going to vote Labour.
Richie: Yeah. Another great British scoop, Eddie. Huh! I'd like to see
the "Amsterdam Evening News" dig up something like that. Frogs.
Eddie: Hells teeth... You can get AIDS from bicycling!
Richie: I know, I know. And isn't it funny that you only read that sort
of thing in a British newspaper?
Eddie: Yeah, well, you don't read French or Italian newspapers, do you?
Richie: Well I don't speak French or Italian. Good grief Eddie, hold
together a cogent argument why don't you? Oh, here we go --
holidays in the Al-gar-ve. Look at this. No electricity, no
running water and fifteen hundred quid a month. People pay for
this. South of France -- we bloody invented it mate! George the
Third, he was the one. All that swimming business. And the
windbreak, who invented that? We did. The Brits. Never mind
covering yourself in Mazola and lying around with a bit of
string up your crack. A quick dip in the briny, dig up a lugworm
and back in the car before you get pneumonia. Yep, that's good
enough for me. Errgh, look at this. Thirty-eight quid return
coach trip to Nice. "Nude beach".
[While Richie has been reading the paper, Mr. Cooper has come into the
shop.]
Cooper: Er, excuse me, I didn't get my paper this morning.
Richie: So? Not my problem. Should be more careful.
Cooper: No, it wasn't delivered.
Richie: Oh, I get it. Trying to get a free paper, are we? Spend all
morning doing that and you could open up a little paper shop,
couldn't you?
Cooper: Look, I don't know what your game is, but I didn't get my paper
delivered this morning! Now I have "The Mail on Sunday" so if I
could just take one now please?
Eddie: No, that's the last copy.
Cooper: Okay, I'll take that one.
Richie: Hang on, hang on! I'm reading that.
Cooper: Yeah, but it's mine. Look, it's even got my name on it.
Richie: That's your name is it? "55p"? "Mr. 55p"?
Cooper: No, my name is Cooper. Look, it's written in biro, in the
corner?
Richie: All right then Mr. Cooper, there's your paper.
[Richie tears off the top of the front page and hands it to him.]
Richie: Good morning.
Cooper: Well where's the rest of it?
Richie: What d'you mean, "Where's the rest of it"?
Cooper: I would like the rest of my paper.
Richie: Well then I suggest you go outside, knock, and come in and ask
for it nicely!
Cooper: Right.
[He grabs Richie by the head and slams him down onto the counter. Richie
vanishes under the counter. Mr. Cooper takes his paper and leaves.]
Cooper: See you Eddie!
Eddie: Yeah, bye John.
[Richie peers up from underneath the counter, checking to see if Mr. Cooper
has gone. He calls after him, carefully.]
Richie: Thug!
Eddie: British thugs Richie, best in the world.
Richie: Damn! We should have written down the particulars of that nudie
beach trip.
Eddie: Well, there is a nudie beach in Brighton you know. It's twelve
pounds sixty-nine pence exactly on the Inter-City Saver, and the
nipples are bigger.
Richie: Hm?
Eddie: It's the cold wind. They've got these telescopes you put twenty
pence in. It's very discreet!
Richie: Hahhh! Let's go! H--no, no, no, no. We've got to run the shop.
That's what makes us British you see Eddie. The average Frog or
Brussels Sprout would be halfway down the A3 by now, polishing
up his zoom lens and sticking bits of garlic up his bum. Not us!
Eddie: Well, not you maybe.
Richie: Eddie! Stand firm. Where were you at Agincourt?
Eddie: I stayed on the bus, remember? With, em, Ethel Cardew.
Richie: Hmm, no, no, shut up, I wasn't talking about that.
Eddie: Ahhh-haaw, that's why you don't like France!
Richie: I don't want to hear this.
Eddie: You don't like France 'cause you've only ever had one bird, and
I shagged her. On the Christmas Club coach trip to Bruges.
Richie: Eddie, she was my fiancee.
Eddie: Well she didn't know that.
Richie: Well I hadn't told her yet, had I? I was going to propose to
her, but I wanted to make it romantic. That's why I decided to
take her on a cultural tour of the battlefields of the Low
Countries.
Eddie: Yeah, but I decided to come along, didn't I?
Richie: Yes.
Eddie: I showed her the Low Countries all right. I showed her the
Nether Regions.
Richie: All right, all right.
Eddie: They came at Bruges, they came at Agincourt... talk about The
Battle of the Bulge!
Richie: Well I blame myself for being car-sick all over her.
Customer: H-hmm!
Eddie: Blimey, it's all go today, isn't it?
Richie: And a very good morning to you sir, and how may I be of
assistance to you on this merry day?
Customer: And good morning to you. Now, assistant, what I'd like this fine
morning--
Richie: Excuse me, hang on, hang on, d-d-d-d-d-dddhh. Let's just get one
thing clear, shall we? I am not an assistant. I am a shopkeeper.
Customer: Is there a difference?
Richie: Is there a difference? I've got a white coat on, he's got his
jacket on back to front! And that's just the tip of the iceberg
mate! So let's show a bit of respect, shall we? Hm, what would
you like?
Customer: Ah, that champagne, please.
Richie: Hmm. Are you eighteen?
Customer: No, I'm fifty-four.
[Eddie slams a bottle of champagne down on the counter.]
Customer: I want three bottles.
Eddie: What, are you an alcoholic?
Customer: It's my daughter's birthday!
Richie: Oh, it's his daughter's birthday, so he's going to drink three
bottles of champagne. Well there's modern parenthood for you.
[Eddie slams the other two bottles down on the counter.]
Richie: Is it -- what do you think you're doing with that?
Customer: Ah, this is a... chequebook.
Richie: But this card only guarantees you for fifty pounds, and I'm
afraid these items cost more that fifty pounds. So I'm terribly
sorry, you're going to have to--
[Eddie opens the drawer of the till. It hits Richie in the groin and he
vanishes under the counter in pain.]
Eddie: A cheque will do nicely, er, just make it out to "Eddie Hitler".
Customer: "Hitler". Ha ha ha, any relation?
Eddie: [proudly] Yeees.
Richie: So this is you, is it? This sort of squiggle is you. Well what
do you do for a living, some sort of modern artist, are you?
Customer: I am a doctor. Now... bugger... orf!
Richie: Ooh, that's witty, isn't it? Took you five years of medical
school to learn that one, did it? On my money, let's not forget
that! Bloody students, you're all the same. I don't know why you
don't just go and live in Russia! Go on, get out of my shop! Go
on, bugger out of it! Go on, on your bicycle! Good grief, Eddie,
sometimes I think there's only you and me left. Eddie. Eddie.
Eddie? Eddie? Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! What do you think you're
doing?
[Eddie is tying a bell to the shop door. He balances it on top of the door-
frame.]
Eddie: I am gonna watch some cricket.
Richie: You can't do that! What about the shop?
Eddie: I've had it with that shop-assisting lark, I resign.
Richie: Well you won't get your share of the money, you know.
Eddie: Well, I'm all right mate, I've already got a cheque for fifty-
three quid.
Richie: You bastard!
Eddie: Yep, that's me.
Richie: You're not going to get away with this, you, you miner! This is
Britain! Do you hear me, Britain! You're not allowed to go on
strike any more, it's illegal! And don't forget, I'm a Mason.
Yeah. I've only got to drop the nod to Scotland Yard and this
place'll be full of armoured horses and tear-gas before you can
say "Vote Labour". What are you doing, Eddie?
Eddie: Don't you worry Richie. You are going to watch the cricket too.
Richie: I am not. I've got social responsibilities. See this little old
lady... We shall not fail her. See her walking... See her
enormous son walking next to her... She looks like the one I
threatened earlier... See his mighty tattoos... I think he's
gonna whack me...
Voice: That's the one!
[A fist comes in from off-screen and connects with Richie's face.]
Eddie: You were right.
Richie: Maybe watching the cricket would be a bit safer, Eddie. What's
the plan?
Eddie: Well. We sit up on the roof, watching the cricket and having a
bit of a picnic. Someone comes into the shop. They open the
door. The bell rings. We come down and serve them.
Richie: Sounds smashing. Come on, let's get out of here!
Eddie: Righty-ho young Sonny Jim old fella-me-lad matey-skip me old pal
from the briny, let's fill up the picnic hamper!
[Richie holds the bag open. Eddie pushes a whole shelf-load of Mr. Kipling
cakes into it.]
Scene 3. The Roof.
------------------
[Eddie and Richie are sitting on deck-chairs on the roof. Eddie is looking
through a pair of binoculars, Richie through an elderly telescope.]
Eddie: Here he comes... here he comes... and he's out! No, no hang on,
no, he's back in again. Oh! She's closed the curtains. How's the
cricket going?
Richie: Well, it... still hasn't started yet... Those stumps are very
big, aren't they?
Eddie: Let's have a look... That's the rugby ground. Cricket's over
there.
Richie: Oh. Oh yes! Ah ha ha ha haaarh. Ahhhrh.
Eddie: What's going on?
Richie: They've broken for lunch. Do do do do...
Eddie: Why're you putting mayonnaise on your face?
Richie: It's not mayonnaise, it's sun tan lotion.
Eddie: Never heard of low calorie sun tan lotion.
Richie: What? Oh no, blast! Oh God! Oh, argh-rrgh! Phuh! Well where's
the sun tan lotion then?
Eddie: You squirted that into your cheese roll.
Richie: But I ate that!
Eddie: Yeah, I know.
Richie: Well why didn't you tell me?
Eddie: Because I don't like you very much.
Richie: Harrrhhh! Now I know you're joking me! Ha ha!
[Eddie shakes his head.]
Richie: Hahh, this is the life, isn't it? [an aeroplane flies over]
Hahhh... I should have been a farmer you know. I really am an
earth child. I know the deep movement.
Eddie: Only deep movement you know is when you've had a curry.
Richie: I am part Red Indian, you know.
Eddie: That'll be the curry again.
Richie: No, I am. Cherokee. D'you know, I can even tell when it's going
to rain.
Eddie: How d'you do that?
Richie: Well, I sort of... look up, mystically, you know... check out
the sky. If I see any black clouds, "That's it," I think,
"rain".
Eddie: What was your Red Indian name then? Running Mouth? Sitting Down?
Talking Bollocks?
Richie: Dances With The Wind.
Eddie: That'll be the curry again.
Richie: Look, I'd advise you to take me seriously, young man, or I might
very well make it rain.
Eddie: Well that'll be good. Go on then, Breezy Trousers or whatever
your name is, go on, make it rain.
Richie: Eddie, you don't dabble with the deep forces.
Eddie: Look, there's not a cloud in the sky, I'll give you twenty-five
quid if you can make it rain.
Richie: You're on! Right, I shall need a tomohawk. Er, oh this'll do.
[He picks up a spatula and gives if a few practice swings]
Richie: No, that's good actually. Right, now this may not work properly
Eddie, I'm used to working in moccasins. Right, put up your
brolly, this is gonna be a big one! Hwyooo--
[Richie starts his dance. His jeans pinch him painfully and he doubles up.]
Richie: Oh Jesus! Ooh! Ah, hah... Hom-alla-pathion, om-alla-pathion, om-
alla-pathion, oompah -- rain!
[A seagull squawks overhead and splatters Richie's face.]
Richie: It worked! Look, Eddie, it -- urgh, bloody hell! Oh, God! Oh, I
must have used the wrong chant.
Eddie: What are you going to do now then, bring down a typhoon of
buffalo dung?
Richie: I'd advise you to take me seriously mate, or I'll invoke the Big
Spirit, he doesn't mess around!
Eddie: Aw, pull the other one mate, it's got bells on!
[There is a ring and then a clonk from downstairs.]
Eddie: How d'you do that?
Richie: Mystical forces Eddie, mystical forces.
Eddie: Rubbish! It's the shop, we've got a customer.
Richie: Eddie?
Eddie: Yeah?
Richie: Careful with that step.
Eddie: What step -- warrgh-arrgh!
[Eddie vanishes down the trap-door. There is a clatter below. Richie takes
the cricket bat that is propping open the trap-door. The lid of the trap-
door slams closed. Richie uses the cricket bat to booby-trap Eddie's deck-
chair.]
Richie: Ha ha ha ha ha... Eddie! I've got a lovely chair for you! Eddie?
Maybe he's not coming up?
[Richie tries to open the trap-door lid but it won't come up.]
Richie: Eddie! Hah! Eddie! I'm stuck on the roof Eddie! I'm trapped, I
can't open it from out here! Eddie, Mayday, Mayday!
[Eddie pushes the lid open; it catches Richie on the nose with a crunch.]
Richie: Hoh!
Eddie: You okay, Richie?
Richie: [nasally] I think I've broken my nose.
Eddie: Oh, come on, you'd better have a sit-down then.
Richie: Hoh, thanks mate.
[Eddie guides Richie to the booby-trapped chair; Richie sits down and it
collapses.]
Richie: Oh, my back!
Eddie: Well, you're lucky mate! You should see what's just happened
downstairs.
Richie: Why, who was it?
Eddie: Well that's the strange thing -- there was no-one there. Just
this bloke lying in the doorway with a bell in the back of his
head.
Richie: Did you put the bell back up?
Eddie: Certainly did mate!
[Another tinkle-clonk-yelp from below.]
Eddie: Another customer. Your turn.
Richie: Oh, er, be an angel Eddie, I've smashed my face in and broken my
back. I don't think I could handle three flights.
Eddie: Three quid.
Richie: Two pound fifty.
Eddie: Six quid.
Richie: Oh -- you're on, you're on. Doesn't do to haggle with Eddie too
long. Ahh, ahh, Eddie?
Eddie: Yeah?
Richie: Be careful with that step.
Eddie: Right -- warrgh!
[Eddie vanishes down the trap-door again. Richie props the trapdoor lid
with the cricket bat and looks around for some string. He finds some tying
the drainpipe to the railing. He ties one end to the cricket bat.]
Richie: Ta-ta-ta... Ha ha ha! Tie the string here... so. Oh, need some
bait. What does Eddie like best? A pickled onion sandwich!
Right. There. Ha ha ha ha. Perfect. Eddie, oh Eddie! I've made
your favourite, a pickled onion sandwich! Right. I hide here.
Eddie comes up, sees the sandwich, says "Ah, a pickled onion
sandwich, my favourite." I pull the string, cricket bat comes
out, whack! Eddie gets the full force of the trapdoor in the
back of the head. Nothing can go wrong.
[Eddie comes up silently, sees the sandwich, takes it over to his chair and
sits down.]
Eddie: Oohh. Great, a pickled onion sandwich, my favourite.
Richie: Right, get a load of this, you bastard!
[Richie pulls the string and the lid slams shut.]
Richie: Aha, got you! Eddie, you stupid idiot! You let the trap-door
shut, we're stuck on the roof now!
Eddie: Well how's that my fault?
Richie: Well you were supposed to stop it with your head.
Eddie: I didn't know anything about this.
Richie: Well of course you didn't, it was a surprise, it was a joke.
Eddie: But that would have hurt, wouldn't it?
Richie: Exactly, that's what was so funny about it!
[Eddie rolls up his fingers into a fist and advances towards Richie.]
Richie: Don't you dare.
[Tinkle-clonk-scream from below again.]
Eddie: Another customer.
Richie: But we're stuck on the roof Eddie!
Eddie: Well, what about the fire escape?
Richie: No good. It collapsed, remember, when Tubs Lardy won that bet
that it wouldn't hold his weight.
Eddie: Hah, yeah, I remember, shocking mess. That dustbin's still flat.
Richie: I know, and the cat's still in it. You can hear it when you
shake it about.
Eddie: Well what are we going to do about this customer?
Richie: Well, perhaps you should shout down and tell him that some bald-
headed looney-tune has trapped us on the roof for ever, so we're
probably unlikely to be popping down to serve him today!
Eddie: [looking down] No, that's not going to work.
Richie: Why not?
Eddie: 'Cause he's lying on the pavement unconscious with a bell in the
back of his head. Oh, hang on, hang on -- someone's coming to
help him. Oh no they're not, no, they're just nicking his
wallet.
Richie: Have they got his wedding ring yet?
Eddie: Ooh, not yet.
Richie: Well, come on, let's get down there! You know what vultures
they're like round here.
Eddie: Look, we cannot get off the roof!
Richie: Oh don't be ridiculous, there must be some way. Well, couldn't
we make a parachute out of your trousers?
Eddie: Well, we could make an aircraft hangar out of yours!
Richie: Don't you start calling me Mr. Wobblybottom, young lad!
Eddie: And why not, Mr. Two-planets-colliding-in-a-pair-of-pants?
Richie: Well you're a fine one to talk -- every time you bend over it's
like watching two Zeppelins having it off!
Eddie: Look, this is no time for a discussion about the vastness of
your bottom. We have got to get off the roof, you madman! The
people are looting the shop! They are! They're looting the shop!
Richie: What? You put those Frosties back immediately! You bring back
that Dream Topping! I'm writing all this down you know, I know
who you are! And once I've found out your names you'll all be
for the high jump! That's it Eddie, jump! Why don't you jump? Go
on, it's only you! You'd be doing a service. You might even get
the George Cross.
Eddie: I might get two broken legs.
Richie: The drainpipe! I'm a genius! Look, it's staring us right in the
face. Go on, off you go old mate.
Eddie: No no, why don't you go?
Richie: Ah, because I've got mayonnaise all over my face, what would
they think, ha ha? You bring those shelves back! This is getting
serious. This is going to cost us a fortune.
Eddie: Money?
Richie: Yeah, we're going to have to pay for all of this.
Eddie: Right, I'm on my way.
[Eddie climbs over the rail and clings onto the drainpipe.]
Richie: Ooh, I forgot about the string.
[The drainpipe starts to move away from the wall.]
Eddie: What string?
Richie: The string that holds everything... onto... the... edge...
[Eddie vanishes from view as the drainpipe continues to lean out further.
There is a crash below.]
Richie: Eddie, are you all right? Is the car? That's it, now fight off
all the looters. Yeah, get the big one with the tattoos. No,
you're supposed to hit him! Look, forget it, just come inside
and lock the doors of the shop, and come up here and get me off
this bloody roof!
[Eddie fights his way through the door and forces it closed.]
Voice: Thrust him in the goolies!
Eddie: And stay out! I'm coming Richie!
Richie: That's the last time I'm coming up on this wretched roof. Why
can I never remember the old maxim: "If you want to have a good
time -- forget it."
Eddie: Taraa!
[The trap-door lid slams shut behind Eddie. It starts to thunder and rain.
Richie looks at Eddie, looks at his hand, folds his fingers into a fist and
starts to advance towards him. He catches up with him at the edge of the
roof and lets fly an enormous punch. Eddie flies over the railing; the
screen freezes, the credits roll.]
Transcription James Kew <j.kew@ic.ac.uk>. Last revised July 1994.
"Bottom -- The Scripts", a BBC book, contains full scripts to
Series One, including many lines that were cut for transmission.
Series One and Series Two are available on BBC videos.