Scenes 9 – 15

9.   EXT.   OUTSIDE ROBERT’S HOUSE.   DAY.
 

THE ZODIAC PULLS UP OUTSIDE THE FRONT DOOR. THE HORN SOUNDS. ERIC GETS OUT OF THE CAR, GOES ROUND TO THE REAR PASSENGER DOOR, OPENS IT WIDE, STANDS TO ATTENTION WITH IS HAND ON THE HANDLE. DAWN COMES OUT OF THE HOUSE, PULLING ON HER GLOVES. SHE WALKS TO THE CAR RATHER GRANDLY, IGNORING ERIC COMPLETELY. ERIC SALUTES SMARTLY. SHE ACKNOWLEDGES THIS WITH A CURT NOD.
DAWN:
Good afternoon, Eric.
ERIC:
Good afternoon, Madam.
SHE GETS INTO THE CAR. ERIC CLOSES THE DOOR, GETS BEHIND THE WHEEL.
CUT TO
10.   CAR INTERIOR.   DAY.
DAWN’S P.O.V. ERIC TURNS TO HER.
ERIC:
The usual, Madam?
DAWN:
The usual.
CUT TO
11.   EXT.   OUTSIDE ROBERT’S HOUSE.   DAY.
 

 

THE ZODIAC DRIVES OFF.
CUT TO
12.   EXT.   COUNTRYSIDE.   DAY.
 

THE ZODIAC TURNS OFF THE MAIN ROAD INTO A COUNTRY LANE. FIFTY YARDS ON IT PULLS IN ONTO THE GRASS VERGE AT THE SIDE. ERIC GETS OUT OF THE CAR, GETS INTO THE BACK SEAT WITH DAWN.
CUT TO
13.   CAR INTERIOR.   DAY.
ERIC LOOKS AT DAWN, SMILES. SHE RETURNS THE SMILE. THEY EMBRACE, NOT TAKING THEIR EYES OFF EACH OTHER.
DAWN:
I’ve always wanted to be fucked on the back seat of a car with leopard skin upholstery.
ERIC:
I’ve always wanted to fuck somebody on the back seat of a car with leopard skin upholstery.
DAWN:
Well get fucking then.
THEY START TO HAVE SEX.
CUT TO
14.   INT.   EMILY’S OFFICE.   DAY.
 

EMILY AND MOLLY ARE AT THEIR DESKS, ENJOYING A COFFEE BREAK.
MOLLY:
Church gives her a headache? How can a church give somebody a headache? (A THOUGHT) Could be the loud singing I suppose; our Vera used to complain of getting headaches when she used to go to the Sally Army. Mind you she was going out with the bloke who played the big drum. But that’s the Sally Army, they don’t belt out the songs in church like they do at the Sally Army, so I wouldn’t have thought it was that that gave her a headache.
EMILY:
I could hazard a guess that church didn’t give her a headache the day she married Mr Street.
MOLLY:
Probably the roof falls on her head whenever she steps inside, that would give her a headache. I wouldn’t wonder it did, the way she carries on. Hot arsed cow.
EMILY:
(SHOCKED) Molly!
MOLLY:
Well she is. She’d go with anybody in trousers. Not that their trousers would stay on
for long if I know her.
EMILY:
I’ve heard talk myself that she’s only as good as she should be, I must admit.
MOLLY:
She’s nowhere near as good as she should be. We were in the same class at school. She was never away from the lads. The teachers weren’t safe either. Talk about the school bike. (MEANINGFULLY) And now Eric Berry is the chauffeur.
EMILY:
You don’t think …..?
MOLLY:
Think? Putting Dawn anywhere near Eric is like putting a mouse and cheese in the same room.
EMILY:
It’s Mr Street I feel sorry for. That sort of thing ….. well it’s just unforgivable.
MOLLY:
You don’t think he suspects anything do you?
EMILY:
No; he thinks butter wouldn’t melt. To tell you the truth I hope he never will suspect anything, it would break his heart.
MOLLY:
(A THOUGHT) You know I’ve always thought you and Mr Street would make a nice couple.
EMILY:
(AMAZED) Me and Mr Street?
MOLLY:
Don’t act so surprised; you’d be perfect for each other.
EMILY:
It’s me you’re talking to, Molly. Emily Shields. Plain spinster of this parish, forty and countiung.
MOLLY:
So?
EMILY:
Well you’ve seen Dawn. You’ve seen the type Mr Street goes for.
MOLLY:
Yes but you never saw his first wife, did you. She was just like you, in her ways.
Dead straight, no airs and graces like Miss Hoity Toity. She looked a bit like you too. And she was his secretary for years before……..
THIS IS ALL NEWS TO EMILY AND SHE TAKES A SECOND OR TWO TO TAKE IT IN BEFORE GLANCING AT THE WALL CLOCK WHICH IS SHOWING TWENTY FIVE MINUTES PAST FOUR.
EMILY:
Twenty five past, we’d better get down to the canteen for the presentation. I’ll tell Mr Street.
SHE GETS UP.
CUT TO
 
15.   CAR INTERIOR DAY.
RESUME ON DAWN AND ERIC. THEY ARE ENJOYING POST COITAL CIGARETTES.
ERIC GLANCES AT HIS WATCH.
ERIC:
We’d best be getting back.
DAWN:
No. (SHE EXTINGUISHES THE CIGARETTE) Fuck me again.
ERIC:
Jesus Dawn we’ve done it twice.
DAWN:
It’s this leopard skin. It brings out the animal in me.
ERIC:
I’ll bring Jungle Jim with me the next time.
DAWN:
(SMILES) Do that. But in the meantime I’ll have to manage with you.
SHE POUNCES ON HIM.
CUT TO
 
 

Published by

Razzamatazz

Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things. Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.