Should this be on the Radio?

This has been on my hard drive for a year or so! It's the first episode of a sitcom I wrote with radio in mind- very much in the vein of 'Cabin Pressure' and 'Claire in the Community'

The central character is a male teacher who is dominated by all the women in his life: wife, daughters, colleagues. Can't think where the inspiration came from! 

Melody, the Deputy Head, is a completely original creation, and the character of whom I am most proud. She has a few interesting 'quirks', and an intriguing back story.

Please let me know what you think. And if you know someone at the BBC give them a shove; I've sent it twice and not heard a sausage!

I have three more complete episodes written- and more to complete this holiday!

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Henpecked!

Episode 1- Is the whole world against me?

Scene 1: James and Liz Kendall’s Home

James:           (looking into bathroom mirror) Hmm! Why is it that every morning at least three eyebrow hairs migrate northwards? Come on, stay down! Mm! Another grey one there! Just comb that under so nobody will see it unless it pops out again. Oh not again! Yet more crows feet by the eyes. Mmmm! The light is a bit harsh in here I suppose. What about a facelift? Definitely not. I would look permanently surprised. And the wrinkles on the forehead. Well what do you expect with what I have to put up with? But apart from that not bad for 47. Well apart from the prematurely silver hair. And the hair on the back. Liz hates it. (Mimics) ‘It’s like sleeping with a sheepskin rug’.  I wonder if they go all the way through from the front like dental floss. Ouch! Clearly not. Better not do that again. It’s taken years to grow that lot.

(Phone sounds- text message)

James:           (Reads) ‘DAD U LOSER STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF WEIRDO’. Charming Livvy. Let’s just reply to that shall we: ‘Next time your boyfriend comes around I am going to embarrass you by talking about where and when you were conceived. Again! LOL Dad!’

Liz:                  (From outside of bathroom) James! James! Can I hear clicking? Are you on the phone in there?

James:           Just replying to our darling eldest daughter. (Phone sounds- text message) Doesn’t she know it’s ‘y-o-u-apostrophe-r-e’ not ‘y-o-u-r’. And there is a k at the beginning of ‘knob’. (Opens door)

Liz:                  She is in the next room. Can’t you just talk to her or shout through the wall?

James:           At this hour in the morning? And you know how much you hate to be disturbed. You even moan about the bird song.

Liz:                  You do exaggerate. I thought you were on that social network site to that woman again.

James:           You mean Amanda. She happens to be a very intelligent person and we have a great deal in common.

Liz:                  Just like Veronica?

James:           Oh! Veronica. Raven haired, tempestuous, dramatic, artistic...

Liz:                  Until you found that she was actually a fat, bald, arthritic Geordie called Vince living a fantasy life. How many years did he get?

James:           Well we all live and learn by our experiences. Besides Amanda and I share a great love of literature, theatre, music and cinema, and she tells me I look just like George Clooney.

Liz:                  James, that is because you posted a picture of George Clooney on your profile page.

James:           Well darling there happens to be a great many people who say that he and I bear a canny resemblance?          

Liz:                  Who exactly James? Who?  This is not going to be a very long or substantial list I suspect.            

James:           Lauren at the hair salon for a start.

Liz:                  Lauren! That outrageous flirt! She drops a compliment like that to absolutely every man who walks in there just to earn herself a tip. What did she call Alan?          

James:           Keanu Reeves!       

Liz:                  Keanu Reeves!  Sweaty Alan with the permanent body odour and the fashion sense of a rodent who looks like the illegitimate offspring of Johnny Vegas and Waynetta Slob! On a good day! Who else?

James:           Well there was Anya next door. She was a lovely girl.

Liz:                  Anya. The Russian student! She was only nineteen so how she knows who George Clooney is is another matter. She is clearly just training up for one of those Moscow honey traps we read about in the Sunday papers.       

James:           I’m not going to win this am I?      

Liz:                  Darling! Do you ever?        

James:           We last agreed 17 and a half years ago when you said ‘I do’.

Liz:                  So we are agreed. I am correct then. AGAIN! Who did Melody compare you to exactly?

James:           Melody! With the brain capacity of a drunken amoeba!

Liz:                  Melody! Who beat you to the deputy head job last year.         

James:           Only because of the cleavage she had on show. I couldn’t exactly do that.

Liz:                  I wouldn’t be so sure. Have you seen your moobs recently fat boy! Come on! What did she call you?

James:           I can’t quite remember at this moment.

Liz:                  James! Come on!

James:           Ok! It was John Craven. Not very glamorous is he?

Liz:                  Precisely. Just face it James. You are 47 years old. Compliments are going to be few and far between at your age.    

James:           Very thin on the ground from my wife, that’s for certain.         

Liz:                  There will even fewer if you don’t get a move on. You’ve got your performance management review with Melody this morning.

James:           Don’t remind me! She has let this go to her head recently. You’ve never lost it have you?

Liz:                  Lost it?

James:           Yes. The ability to make me feel so good.

Scene 2: Melody’s Office

(Knock on door)

Melody:          (In contrived Essex accent) Come in!

James:           Good Morning Melody! Are we all set to begin? Performance management. Highlight of the year!

Melody:          Hi Jimmy. Take a seat won’t you. 

James:           James.

Melody:          That’s what I said babe.

James:           Babe?

Melody:          Saucy! I could sue you for sexual harassment?

James:           (Under breath) If you could spell it.

Melody:          Shall we get this started? We haven’t got all day. Now I was thinking…

James:           (Under breath) …and breathing at the same time. Obviously multitasking now.

Melody:          … that you need to take on responsibility for some disciplinary matters. To boost your authority around the school with the staff.

James:           Surely that’s your responsibility Melody. I remember that being in the job profile when we both applied.

Melody:          Well things move on as you know Jimbo, new roles, new responsibilities.

James:           It’s James. You know I don’t like to shorten it, and Liz can’t abide any abbreviation of it. We’ve worked together for over 10 years. You should know me by now.

Melody:          Whatever!

James:           Look Melody can’t I just sort out Kaspar? He and I get along quite well.

Melody:          Not after the last time. You were helping him sort out his premium vodka collection and the head found you both fast asleep in the games shed amongst the tennis equipment. You were lucky it was after school.

James:           A small misunderstanding Melody. Besides he has his black armband on again today. Must be the anniversary of the Second Partition of Poland.

Melody:          I didn’t realise there was a first series. Was it on one of those foreign channels you watch?

James:           (Exasperated) He is very proud of his roots. Plus he is a massive improvement on Darren. No digits removed yet and the fire alarms all work now, so there is no danger of year three being cremated alive. So, tell me, who is it I need to sort out.

Melody:          Emma Taylor. Year five.

James:           Emma Taylor? What on earth has she done? It’s always nose to the grindstone in her class.

Melody:          James you’re such a gent. She has found it all a bit difficult what with her marital problems and her mother’s health. Haven’t you seen what she’s been wearing lately?

James:           Melody, you know I have great difficulty in telling what Liz is wearing most days. What on earth has Emma been sporting?

Melody:          It’s not what, but how much material.

James:           Is she in a burkha?

Melody:          Jimmy. It is see through. Her legs and her bra are on full show for the whole class when the sun shines behind her, and as they had sex education last week they need no encouragement. They were sniggering at the pair of pink balloons she used in the science lesson in the afternoon, and don’t mention what they were saying about the sausages at lunchtime.

James:           I can’t tell a recently divorced woman that that her décolletage is visible to her class.

Melody:          Get you and your big words. No, just say that her chest is on show.

James:           Melody, I just did.

Melody:          No to her, not me.

James:           Look Melody! This is just not me is it? I barely know the woman, so to start off a conversation about her legs and breasts will make me look like a complete sleazebag. Just remember what Daniel was like. How many women did he offend?

Melody:          Don’t be unfair about Daniel. He knew the way to a girl’s heart.

James:           Four glasses of cheap champagne and a run down the A2 in his Merc for a spot of dogging in a lay-by is a little too caveman for me. Now what about Emma?

Melody:          Well try your lines out on me. You are normally so good with the words you use.

James:           Ok then! Now, Emma. (pause- ignored) Emma! Melody, that’s you!

Melody:          Oh! Sorry hon!

James:           Now, Emma! This is slightly delicate, but um-er I need to raise a certain concern about your dress.

Melody:          Do you like it babes! A bargain online, you should look out for one your wife.

James:           Not your dress, your attire, your outfit.

Melody:          Come on! Get to the point! You can only stretch a compliment so far. I don’t want you trying it on with me.

James:           (flustered) Emma, it’s er just that some items of your apparel are a little translucent.

Melody:          Don’t get you babe!

James:           (frustrated) You may wish to find more suitably opaque fashions for the classroom.

Melody:          Program error! Still not computing!

James:           (v frustrated) For God’s sake Emma I can see your breasts through your blouse!

Melody:          (Slaps James) You pervert! You’re staring at my tits!

James:           Melody! For heaven’s sake! We were role playing!

Melody:          I don’t care what you and Liz do at home, but don’t involve me in your sordid affairs. Now go and deal with Emma before the bell goes!

James:           Well I hope it’s safer than being in here!

Scene 3: Mr Kendall’s Classroom

James:           Good Morning David.

David:             Here Mr Kendall.

James:           Good Morning Grace.

Grace:            Here Mr Kendall.

James:           Good Morning Tanvir.

Tanvir:            Here Mr Kendall.

James:           And Good Morning Vicky.

Vicky:             Here Mr Kendall. (pause) Mr Kendall, why have you got a hand mark on both cheeks?

James:           (Embarrassed) It’s a little chilly this morning. Brings a rosy glow- just warming myself up; getting the blood flowing helps the brain at this time of the morning. You should all try it!

Grace:            Mr Kendall, I saw Mrs Taylor crying in her classroom.

James:           Well perhaps she was a little upset about the chick in the reception class that died the other day. Which reminds me David…

David:             I didn’t say nothing honest.

James:           Which means you must have said something. Miss Fincham tells me that someone told Vicky’s little brother Jake that the chicks were told be called … now where is that list … here we are … oh yes … Nugget, Dipper, Nando and …

David:             It was Tanvir too. He suggested Bhuna, Korma and Madras.

Tanvir:            Be fair sir. You’re always telling us to express our creativity and imagination.

James:           But not at the expense of the emotions of the five year olds in the school. Besides, you missed out Kiev, Kentucky and Goujon. Haven’t I taught you anything in our cooking lessons? (Raucous laughter from class) Ok year six settle down! Now Grace can you remember what we did in yesterday’s Literacy lesson… CONNOR! LEAVE YOUR TROUSERS ALONE! YES! AND THE ZIP TOO! Grace?

Grace:            We were looking at the ingredients of the Witches’ Brew from Macbeth.

David:             Round about the cauldron go; In the poison'd entrails throw.

Vicky:             Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;

David:             Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Tanvir:            Hairy spiders, poisoned ants,

Something nasty from my pants

Class:             Oh! Tanvir!!

James:           Very poetic, but not very Shakespearean is it?

Tanvir:            S’pose not! Why are we doing all this ancient stuff anyway? He’s been dead for centuries!

James:           Dead for centuries! (higher) Dead for centuries!! Mr Shakespeare may have gone but his work is very much alive..

David:             (To others) Here we go again; it’s that speech of his. ‘When I was at school…’

James:           (Striding around front of classroom) When I was at school my love of the Bard was inspired by one particularly motivational teacher who had the class dancing and gyrating around the cauldron…

Tanvir:            (To others) ‘… and I was stirred…’

James:           (Sweeping arms) … and I was stirred to deliver the range of his work when I came to the front of the classroom myself.

Grace:            (To others) ‘… because the drama, the tension, the emotions…’

James:           (Dramatically) … because the drama, the tension, the emotions of his plays breathes life and innovation into the English language.

Vicky:             (To others using exact tone and body language of James) ‘… and I know you’ve heard all this before…’

James:           … and I know you’ve heard all this before, and I know Vicky exactly what you are doing because after my teacher training and with my years of experience I have eyes in the back of my head and super-human hearing..

Vicky:             (Embarrassed) Sorry!

James:           You will be and so will I if Miss Kane finds us not doing maths again. Quick children here she is: counting in 13s.

Whole Class:            Zero 13 26 39…

James:           Classe! Levez-vous pour la Directrice adjointe ! Bonjour Mademoiselle Kane mon petit chou-fleur.

Melody:          Oh your Mr Kendall thinks he is so clever trying to catch me out with his fancy Spanish talk.  (Class sniggers) Mr Kendall, I see you dealt with Mrs Taylor successfully. After that managerial and diplomatic success, I need to ask you to cover dinner duty today.

James:           Dinner duty! Where is the Head? He always does it?

Melody:          In a crisis management planning meeting at the education offices. Something to do with long term photocopier lease management.

James:           And you …

Melody           … as busy as ever. Nothing to worry about. Mrs Fellows will sort you out Babe. Ciao!

David:             Did Miss Kane really call you Babe sir?

James:           Enough of that. Now where were we? 52 65 … oh come on, wake up.

Scene 4: Lunchtime

James:           That’s right. (pause) The pointed bit of the fork goes into the food, that’s how you pick it up. (pause) Then put it in your mouth. (pause) Now pull it out. (pause) No! leave the food in your mouth. (pause) This could take a very long time. (pause- shouts) CONNOR! WOULD YOU DO THAT AT HOME? (pause) You would! How revolting. (pause) And what’s in your sandwiches? (pause)  Beef paste and banana. Lovely.

Mrs Fellows:  Hello there Mr Kendall. Miss Kane said you would be helping me here today.

James:           I was hoping you could help me out Mrs Fellows. It’s like the winter of discontent out here.

Mrs Fellows:  Made glorious summer by this son of York Mr Kendall.

James:           I didn’t realise you were a friend of the Bard Mrs Fellows. CONNOR- NOT LIKE THAT.

Mrs Fellows:  Ever since I was a young girl Mr Kendall. Thanks to my good old dad. He even named all of his children after his favourite roles, my brothers Richard and Henry after his favourite Kings, and my sister Titania, though I am sure you can guess her nickname. And you may call me Miranda, away from the children’s ears of course. (to children) That’s right my dear- line up on the right- out you go!

James:           How refreshing to be brought up in such a literate household. All I hear in the staffroom is celebrity gossip and those mummy porn novels. It’s all rough-hewn hunks and interesting uses for skipping ropes from what I can pick up. CONNOR- USE A SPOON, DON’T USE A STRAW! YES IT IS JELLY! How on earth do you stay so calm?

Mrs Fellows:  It’s all an act. (dramatically)

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts.

I’m probably very different away from here. My husband certainly says so.

James:           Well you know your Shakespeare Mrs Fellows, which sets you aside from the rest of the adults here. There’s about as much culture as a live yoghurt at times.

Mrs Fellows:  The children love your lessons Mr Kendall. They are always doing impressions of you teaching when they are on the playground. Quite a commendation I would say.

James:           What a pleasant surprise to hear that. They never give me a clue in the class.

Mrs Fellows:  Oh Mr Kendall, what a modest man you are. The children and the parents absolutely love you. My two can’t wait to get to your class.

James:           Which classes are they in? I can never remember.

Mrs Fellows:  Well Oberon is in Year 2. He’ll be seven next week. I am so pleased with Mrs Lynch. She has shown a great understanding of his problems. And Hermia is in Year 5 with Mrs Taylor. She has seemed a bit distracted lately. When she let the children in this morning she looked as if she had been crying. Has something upset her?

James:           (Guiltily) I couldn’t imagine what that could be.

Mrs Fellows:  Just between you and me, a lot of the parents can’t wait for their children to get to your class Mr Kendall.

James:           I’m not really one for the school gate gossip Mrs Fellows, but thank you, you have brightened my day. CONNOR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT LUNCHBOX!!

Scene 5: Mr Kendall’s Classroom

James:           Settle down everyone. Now Vicky, what are we cooking this afternoon.

Vicky:             Rock cakes sir! That’s a bit of a funny name; why are they called that. Who wants to eat a rock?

James:           Anyone know the answer to that? Why are they called rock cakes? David! Inform us with your gems of wisdom.

David:             They are all lumpy and bumpy. Like Tanvir’s face after he had the chicken pox.

Tanvir:            Like your mum’s minging backside you mean!

David:             Mr Kendall! He’s cussing my mum.

James:           Just leave it out boys won’t you. Not quite appropriate in the classroom. Grace, can you read out the ingredients for each group please. Why do we need to get the measurements right?

Grace:            It’s all about ratio and proportion isn’t it Mr Kendall. If you have too much or too little of something you will ruin it. Like your wife’s friend who defrosted that food for six hours instead of six minutes.

James:           Quite. Lemon meringue pie became lemon meringue soup. You could have used your straw for that instead of your jelly there Connor.

David:             Mr Kendall? (he wants to waste time with a silly question) How often does Shakespeare mention food in his plays?

James:           At last David you seem to have caught the bug of the Bard, the passion of the playwright!

David:             That’s right sir! All that Macbeth and ‘Wear four out there Romeo’

James:           Where for art thou Romeo!

David:             That’s what I meant sir! It’s your inspirational teaching!

James:           So inspirational in fact that I have stimulated you to find the answer to that question for your own personal homework. I expect the answer in full tomorrow.

Vicky:             Ha! Serves you right for your time wasting!

James:           And Vicky will look up his references to time. The internet is a wonderful thing isn’t it. Now! Grace, our ingredients if you would be so kind.

Scene 6: The Staffroom: Afternoon break

Melody:          Something’s smelling good there Jimbo, what’s on the menu today?

James:           (sarcastically) Rock cakes. With real rocks. Actually its gravel for the nouvelle cuisine version.

Melody:          You are so funny at times Jim, but I’m not stupid…

James:           Hmm!

Melody           … I know it’s not actual rock. Now I know you caught me out with Spotted Dick that time …

James:           That was quite an embarrassment for the head wasn’t it? You and that custard suggestion.

Melody:          FYI Not a long memory on that one babes.

James:           Conveniently selective memory loss again Melody.

Melody:          And I haven’t forgotten the strange hair that was in my cookie in that assembly a couple of years ago. Whose was that?

James:           Danny! Oh be fair he has Asperger’s, and he had worked for ages on that recipe. He was so proud of the special ingredient.

Melody:          It was the head louse that was attached to it that did it for me. Did you tell the head what was in his?

James:           Not on that occasion! Thank heavens he threw up before they had to pump his stomach. (Buzzer sounds) Well that’s me! Let’s get these to class and feed the hungry millions.

Scene 7: Mr Kendall’s Classroom

James:           Ready for the big reveal year six?

Tanvir:            Too right Mr Kendall, I’m starving.

Vicky:             Sure it’s not Ramadan again Tanvir?

Tanvir:            No, that was just an excuse to get away from you and your pink icing. Barbie cakes? I have my reputation to look after you know.

Grace:            Mr Kendall has told us we should be tolerant of all faiths, genders and opinions.

James:           You are right there Grace. Now in my humble opinion we need to polish these off before they go stale. If you like them, we will cook a bigger batch for the end of term fayre.

David:             And if we don’t Mr Kendall.

James:           If we don’t there’s always a place for you in the stocks again David. How much did Jake spend on that the last time Vicky?

Vicky:             Enough for about fifty sponges. He’s been saving up since then David.

David:             I suggest we get stuck in Mr Kendall, and hope we enjoy it.

James:           Who needs a second invitation? Vicky. David. Hand them round and tuck in!

Class:             (Interrupted by moans, groans and class banter) Here David! Don’t forget me! Urgh you touched that one! You’ve got to eat it now! Mr Kendall, Connor breathed on mine!

James:           Yes Tanvir, what is it?

Tanvir:            I don’t want to alarm anyone but ….

Grace:            Oh no! Tanvir is it a big but or a small but?

Tanvir:            … but the wart that was on my finger before I stirred up our mixture; it’s gone!

(Class breaks into mass hysteria, vomiting noises, groans etc.)

Scene 8: Melody’s Office

Melody:          Jimmy. If you were to rate your performance today, how would you grade yourself.

James:           On teaching good I suppose, on managerial matters bordering on satisfactory.

Melody:          Not been your day has it!

James:           It has been a little testing Melody. I think we could agree on that.

Melody:          Emma Taylor has been sobbing all day. I can’t get a word of sense from her. What did you say to her?

James:           Very similar words to our rehearsal I think.

Melody:          Just as I feared. Did you ever consider a career in diplomacy before you were a teacher? Reverend Moon you ain’t babe.

James:           You mean Ban-Ki Moon Melody.

Melody:          Aren’t they the same person?

James:           No Melody. Do you know who Ban-Ki Moon is?

Melody:          Do you think I’m stupid? …

James:           (to self) only about 99.99% of the time.

Melody:          …He’s head of the European Commission isn’t he.

James:           Melody, he is Secretary-General of the United Nations. And he is Korean.

Melody:          Does that make your sister-in-law Kim Korean too? They’re all called Kim.

James:           She might have all the subtleties of Kim Jong-Il but as she was born in Hemel Hempstead, just like her sister, my wife.

Melody:          There is no need to be fastidious!

James:           Facetious!

Melody:          Jimbo! I happen to like people from other cultures if you don’t mind!

(SFX Text tone- Plays ‘Rabbit’ by Chas and Dave)

James:           Excuse me Melody. A message from my wife. ‘GET TEA BAGS ON WAY HOME. AND EXTRA SNACKS. EMILY HAS THE HAIRY BEAST OVER TONIGHT’

Melody:          Ew! New phone Jimski! You reaching the twenty first century at last. Change from the yoghurt pots and string you used to have. Let’s have a look.

James:           Don’t press anything I don’t know about Melody. I don’t want any unusual charges.

Melody:          We have got to teach you some serious lessons boy. What do you use it for?

James:           Calls, texts and social networking. See that surprised you!

Melody:          So I can see. I’ve found your page. There is a message from someone called Amanda. She looks a bit out of your league. Does Liz know?

James:           Melody! I would rather you didn’t. It’s private you know.

Melody:          Jimbo, there is no such thing as private in these situations. Don’t you remember the trouble that Daniel got into for posting those pictures of him and Jean Ball?

James:           I’d forgotten about that. How on earth did she hold that position and keep whatever that thing was in under her chin at the same time?

Melody:          No idea hun, but luckily she and her husband were on another one of their ‘breaks’ and didn’t find out, otherwise he would have been chasing Daniel.

James:           Yes I hear that those mobility scooters have quite a turn of speed going downhill.

Melody:          He was lucky not to have been suspended!

James:           Unlike her! Hah-hah!

Melody:          Is that funny?

James:           Yes.

Melody:          How?

James:           Never mind! What was the age difference between Jean and Daniel?

Melody:          Twenty nine years! What was the comment that he posted?

James:           The face may be like a pickled walnut but the plumbing is in top class condition. Good use of metaphor I thought!

Melody:          Not one of your chat up lines I hope!

James:           Melody it’s been over twenty years since I went on a date. In those days you had to have permission in writing just to hold hands!

Melody:          Well I can see you have impressed Amanda. ‘Hello again @JamesK. You look just like George Clooney. Has anyone told you that?’ Jimski what are you like you little saucepot!

James:           Melody! Please, we share a lot of interests.

Melody:          You know this model has voice recognition too don’t you? Easy when you know how!

James:           Melody! Don’t!

Melody:          Some people do but my bezzie thinks I’m more like John Craven.

Phone Voice:            Sending message to @AmandaM ‘Some people do but my bezzie thinks I’m more like John Craven’.

James:           Well thank you Melody! Now she will think I have no class. I wouldn’t use words like bezzie, and you aren’t my bezzie anyway.

Melody:          Now come along Jimmy, you love me really.

James:           Well you know what they say about a thin line ….

Melody:          Anyway! Back to business! After what you have said about Kaspar, I agree that you should be his line manager too.

James:           Thank you Melody. I am sure we can help him get onto the right path. Remember it’s a language thing with him. He doesn’t understand all the procedures yet does he.

Melody:          He should know ‘cleaning rota’ by now. And ‘clear the drains out’. The boys’ toilets opposite are totally rank.

James:           He wasn’t a caretaker in Wroclaw was he? He has a background in the coal mines. There are a lot of differences. Besides he has a good work ethic.

Melody:          He wouldn’t last five minutes in Essex!

James:           Ethic, not Essex!

Melody:          Not deaf babe, not deaf. Let’s face it though. Kaspar at times is a lazy sod!

Phone Voice:            Sending text message to Kaspar ‘At times you are a lazy sod.’

Melody:          Silly me. I’m still holding your phone.

James:           Melody! What have you done to me now? I think you may have set Anglo-Polish relations back several decades.

Melody:          You said he had a language problem.

James:           I think we are going to have a bad language problem here in a minute. (Phone sounds- text message) Here we go! (puts on Polish accent) ‘I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND. AND NOW YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THOSE BOLSHEVIK SCUM! DIE IN A PIT OF YOUR OWN VOMIT YOU SON OF A COSSACK WHORE!’

Melody:          That didn’t go too badly then did it. You’ll have no problem sorting him out. Right I’m off to sort out my mother. Ciao babes! Love you!

James:           No you don’t!

Melody:          You would like to think so! MWAH!!

James:           (to self) Believe me Melody, nothing could be further from the truth!

Scene 9: James and Liz Kendall’s Home

James:           Hello Darling! Home at last what a day! Oh I see Emily has got Sigmund around again.

Liz:                  She has. And its Simon to his face, remember.

James:           But by giving him Mr Freud’s moniker it at least give him a modicum of intelligence, rather than the grunts we normally get. How on earth do they communicate? Semaphore?

Liz:                  It’s all changed since our day. Remember you used to write me those little cards, with special requests on.

James:           None of which were ever granted.

Liz:                  (Ignoring that remark) Tell me about your day.

James:           What is that they are playing up there?

Liz:                  It’s Phil Collins!

James:           Phil Collins! Su-su-sudio!! We have a cabinet full of Oasis, Blur, The Stone Roses and the like. How embarrassing! Why can’t they sit on the front wall drinking nasty cider like normal teenagers?

Liz:                  It’s a phase, as always. Now come on, what happened today.

James:           In a sentence: Melody asserted herself, class got a real taste of something from the witches cauldron, I got a two slaps and a reputation as a peeping tom,  I may have found a kindred spirit, but not in Kaspar, and I’m unlikely ever to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.  

Liz:                  In other words, just like any other day!

James:           Exactly!

Liz:                  Tea?

James:           I thought you were never going to ask. My throats as dry as ..

Liz:                  Well stick the kettle on, there’s the pot, leave it to brew for five minutes, not like that cat’s wee you gave me this morning. And stick some digestives on a plate too!!

James:           And where will you be? Throne room? Bathing in asses milk? Boudoir?

Liz:                  Picking the carving knife from between your shoulder blades.

James:           It’s those little intimate touches that tell me how much you love me!

Liz:                  It won’t boil itself!

James:           Coming dear!

Half Time Report

In the words of that great philosopher Jon Bon Jovi:  'Whoa we're halfway there!'

Time then to review my 'Thirteen for '13', look at tactics, bring on some substitutes and dish out some Fergie style hairdryer treatments!

So how are we doing so far?

1. Meeting Twitter friends: None so far, but plans afoot for the Summer- a few beers to be quaffed! Nearly encountered some twitterati at the Nordicana Show with Mrs C but as we look nothing like a Mr Man or a rabbit, we missed our target!

2. Michael Gove will see sense: Hmm!

3. I will find more good value wine: Two euros again for a decent French Red- success. 

4. I want to read at least 20 books. Five so far- but that is what the Summer holidays are for.

5. My writing will be discovered:  Not yet- I might post my sitcom on here for a wider audience.

6. The mighty 'People's Club' will win some much deserved silverware: Respectable season saw Moyes taking a trip up the East Lancs Road. Martinez has respect of fans though. 

7. Liars paying the price for their actions: Two good friends have had success there. 

8. I will cook a new recipe at least twice a month and share it with my Twitter friends: Cooked, some shared and a food blog on its way, as soon as my blog partner designs the site!

9. Greater financial sense! What is it with teenaged girls!

10. Gardening news: Courgettes looking OK at the moment, and just spotted first tomato flowers!

11. Common sense will prevail in education. Twigg really does not have a clue does he. This morning on the Andrew Marr Show he told us . . . . well nothing really.

12. There will be positive action in Parliament to DVA: Cameron's response to the Philpott case, blaming benefit culture, was a disgrace. The recent very public assault of Nigella Lawson proves that DV transcends all boundaries of class and well being. 

13. We will all be in a happier place by this time next year!: Save that one until Christmas!

Verdict: Must ensure focus is maintained upon the targets set to realise the potential therein. Must use that on my reports! 

The Bridge: Estuary Noir Style.

Inspired by the successful English language version of Wallander, I wondered if there was a market for an update of my favourite Scandi drama of last year. Inspiration came from a Bank Holiday visit to the concrete and glass permatanned hell that is Bluewater Shopping Centre, and the view from the approach road. 

I've even given it the theme tune https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy7yuj-UrNI

Enjoy!

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(SFX: Mobile Phone Ringtone- Spring from The Four Seasons)

Pipe:           Yes! Pipe here! Better be good it’s nearly 3 in the morning. What? A Body? On the Bridge? Surely that’s Essex Constabulary? In the middle you say? Exactly on the middle? Stop the traffic and get me clearance to come over the wrong way! Be there in twenty.

(Atmospheric theme music as Pipe drives down scenic Kentish lanes before hitting the joyless industrial estates of Dartford, and onto the bridge)

Pipe:           DI Pipe. Kent Constabulary. Who is the senior officer here, it looks like a circus. Get these rubberneckers out of the way.

Lane:          That will be me babes! DI Lane, Essex Constabulary. We prefer first names on our side hun!

Pipe:           And you are?

Lane:          Fantine!

Pipe:           Ah! Your parents were fans of the classic work by Victor Hugo.

Lane:          Nah! Some bloke shagged my mum up against the bins round the back of the Bingo Hall after she was off her tits on Fanta and Malibu. Nine months later out I pop. She named me after what caused me!

Pipe:           What a beautiful story?

Lane:          Fantine Teniqua Beyonce Malibu Lane! But you can call me Fanny!

Pipe:           Fanny Lane! Hmm!

Lane:          And you are?

Pipe:           Gordon. As in the gin!

Lane:          Oh you should see me after a few gins at Sugarhut babe. Five of those and I’m anybody’s!

Pipe:           Charming, I’m sure.

Lane:          So was your mum off her face on Gordon’s when your Dad banged her?

Pipe:           Some children are actually conceived in a conventional loving relationship.

Lane:          Not round here babe! Sorry! Gordon!

Pipe:           Let’s just stick to Pipe and Lane shall we? Now where is this body?

Lane:          Right here! Not been touched yet.

Pipe:           Bizarrely dressed I would say!

Lane:          Seems quite normal to me!

Pipe:           Not surprisingly (To self) Note this down! You can write can’t you?

Lane:          And you are in charge because?

Pipe:           Because the head is on my side! On the Kent side!

Lane:          Ah get you now hun!

Pipe:           Subject would appear to be male judging by the haircut and the Hollister top. Over-priced designer brands for the local youths. Some sort of tribal tattoo along the right arm. Would you agree Lane?

Lane:          No I’m guessing it’s a female victim. Velour tracksuit. Faked Chanel. Designer label trainers also counterfeit, and a tattoo with ‘Marc 4 me 4 eva!’ around the ankle. Besides I’ve already looked down the pants. Tiny thong and no meat and two veg. we’ve got a babe, babe!

Pipe:           Unless it’s a hermaphrodite!

Lane:          Come again Guv!

Pipe:           A Lady-Boy! A she-male!

Lane:          We get them down the Hut all the time. My ex had one hell of a surprise after one session. Didn’t stop him though, dirty little bleeder.

(SFX: Mobile Phone Ringtone- Mr Lover Man)

Lane:          That’s him now! Babes! How ya doing? No! How, not who! Dirty bugger! Can’t really talk now, I’m on a job! No! Not on the job! And no not on the … Am you wonder why I left you! See ya!

Pipe:           Can we get on with it?

Lane:          That’s what he said! Why do you keep touching your goolies? You’re not one of those doggers are you?

Pipe:           No! I’ve recently had a delicate operation … downstairs.

Lane:          What? In the living room?

Pipe:           No! Below!

Lane:          In the wine cellar! I know you’ve got posh houses in Kent.

Pipe:           For God’s sake I’ve had a bloody vasectomy and my bollocks are really sore! And the last thing I need is mindless drivel, so if you don’t mind! The Body!

Lane:          OK! Sore point! I’ll do the head! And don’t give me that look!

Pipe:           I wouldn’t dream! OK feet for me as you’ve already done that end of things! I’m just going to remove these shoes. One and two and … AAARGH!! What is this? It’s bleeding still. Constable- an arc light over here now!!

Lane:          AAARGH!! Me too! All over my hands! It feels like brain matter!

Pipe:           We are looking at a violent assault! Multiple causes of death! Where is that bloody arc light?

Lane:          Pipe! How long has blood been orange?

Pipe:           What do you mean? It has the feel of congealed blood.

Lane:          It’s not blood you Muppet! It is a case of too much fake tan paste! They never rub it in properly! Why do you think their legs are so streaky?

Pipe:           Because they had wet themselves when drunk out of their skulls?

Lane:          Well there is that as well! But what about me? I’ve got this brain gunk all over my hands! Was he beaten to death?

Pipe:           That isn’t brain matter! It’s an excess of hair product! Good God! It is dripping from your hands! How much has this boy used?

Lane:          What do you mean?

Pipe:           Never dated a Dartford boy?

Lane:          Never shagged beyond Brentwood mate!

Pipe:           They all have it! Go to Bluewater on a windy day and any male under twenty four doesn’t have a hair out of place. The rest of us have been dragged through several hedges backwards. And the real reason for the smoking ban in clubs wasn’t for the smoke. One discarded match in the wrong direction and WOOF!! The whole lot would have gone up!

Lane:          Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Pipe:           Essex girls think? (SFX- Slap) They think!

Lane:          Two bodies! Not one!

Pipe:           Up with the top! Down with the tracksuit!

Lane:          There! Cut across the middle and placed together! Symmetrical!

Pipe:           Asymmetrical! Can’t you tell this script was written by a teacher?

Lane:          Yeah! Bloody peasant!

Pipe:           Pedant!

Lane:          That’s the one!

Pipe:           You know what Lane?

Lane:          What?

Pipe:           We aren’t looking at a crime of passion! We are looking at a crime against fashion!

(Fades into theme tune as both gaze balefully into the middle distance- to the oil refineries of Canvey Island or to the marshes of Gravesend where Magwitch emerged to threaten young Pip in Great Expectations, depending upon your cultural preferences)

Strictly Political Dancing

No new sketch this week- so irritated by last week's lack of interest from the Beeb- but much pleased at the response from my readership. And as one of my 'fans' says, 'keep your own voice'- so here is something I put together last October- hence not quite so topical! Worth a read nonetheless.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Music: Strictly Come Dancing Theme

Bruce:            Please welcome our next couple to the dance floor, doing the Viennese Waltz David Cameron and his partner Nick Clegg!

Polite applause

Music: (in waltz time): If you don’t know me by now

Music fades down so we hear their conversation.

Nick:               David, you’re treading on my toes!

David:             No Nick, you’re treading on my toes!

Nick:               David, you’ve been treading on my toes constantly during this competition. I wonder if you actually know in which direction you are going!

David:             I’m going to the right!

Nick:               No! Here we need to go to the centre! (Huffs) There we go!

David:             And we will keep this centre position until … now (Huffs) Back in the correct direction now.

Nick:               We need to go the centre now! (Huffs)  For the vote on the green tax. And now to the right for the tuition fees. (Huffs)  And now a left for the vote on AV! (Huffs)

David:             And back to the right for the EU debate. (Huffs)

Music finishes

Bruce:            If you don’t know David by now Nick you’ll never … wait for it… you’ll never ever know him at all! (Polite groans) Bruno! Over to you first!

Bruno:            Nic-o-las! I am-a so sorry for-a you! If you had been-a in-a Italy you-a would-a have-a been-a completely going-a to-a the right!

Craig:             Daaarrrling! I couldn’t have agreed more! It seems to me Nick that you can’t decide if you need to direct to the left or to the right, and when you do one decides and the other goes elsewhere. Your footwork is all over the place, and David the timing of your decisions relates to events and not to the music!

Darcey:          Yah! Totally! You know! Whatever!

Craig:             A complete dis-ar-star!

Len:                Well it’s all very good looking very pretty isn’t it but I could see no direction, no style, no substance. Lots of fancy twirls and twists, but it’s not strictly dancing you know. No chance of a SEV-ERN between the four of us.

David:             Oh don’t bring that … (fades)

Swedish AAA Meatballs!

Another week, another no show of my scripts on Newsjack. There has been a lot of criticism directed at the programme for not really having unpublished writers; and in fact they admit as much themselves! Not always quality either! Judge for yourselves here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b01qyrz9/Newsjack_Series_8_Episode_3/ 

Well the BBC's loss is my readership's gain I suppose!

Personally I think this is one of the tightest pieces I have done. Enjoy

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

AAA Rating Sketch

Justin:                          The major economic news this week was of course the downgrading of the UK’s credit rating from the blue chip AAA rating to the lesser AA1 rating, which probably translates to tea and biscuits in Cabinet meetings being bought from the essentials range rather than the luxury selection at Harrod’s. But on a more serious note, how does the UK get back to the top level of credit rating? Especially with a country like Sweden with a sixth of our population and natural resources that seem to be based around pine forests and elk farming holding the top rating. To help me answer these questions I have with me the economist Professor Anna Svensson of the University of Uppsala. Professor Svensson, welcome.

Anna:                           (In well-spoken but ever so slightly exaggerated Swedish accent) Justin (pause) Please call me Anna.

Justin:                          Thank you Anna. Now tell me on such limited natural resources, how does Sweden sustain one of the best standards of living in the Western world, and manage to fund full state pensions for all and allow for a full years maternity and paternity leave for new parents.

Anna:                           Well. (pause) Justin. (pause) You mention my country’s natural resources but omitted our supplies of iron ore, much of which is used to build those big, square cars which seem to be so enamoured of your middle classes. Our pine forests we use to supply much of Europe with self-assembly furniture named after Astrid Lindgren characters. And the elk; (pause) yes it is used in the food chain. Where do you think those Swedish meatballs come from?

Justin:                          Well at least it isn’t horse meat. But those are all based on sales. What about when the markets contract. You do have to import most of your fresh fruit and vegetables because of your poor soils and short growing seasons.

Anna:                           Ah! The English education system’s obsession with the Vikings. They didn’t wear horned helmets as you all think, but did come for food supplies. There may have been some accidental slaughtering and pillaging, but that was all securely invested. Can you imagine the compound interest since the eighth century?

Justin:                          So the strength of the Swedish economy is based upon the wealth stolen from Anglo-Saxon monasteries.

Anna:                           No! (pause) There is much more! (pause) For example, have you seen the cost of a pint of your English beer in a bar in Stockholm?

Justin:                          £12! £12! The most expensive Stag party I have ever attended!

Anna:                           Also the many millions of pounds that you spent on Sven-Goran Erikkson taking your English football team to a succession of quarter finals were invested immediately into our herring industry.

Justin:                          But surely one person’s cultural impact doesn’t secure an entire nation’s economic well-being.

Anna:                           Think again Justin! Have you read the Millennium Trilogy!

Justin:                          I have. Along with twenty million other people.

Anna:                           And no doubt you have heard the rumours of a fourth book on Stieg Larsson’s laptop which his girlfriend has in a safe.

Justin:                          I have. (pause) Where is this leading?

Anna:                           There are in fact another seventeen volumes in safe storage in the vaults of the Royal Bank. To be released at six monthly in times of dire economic need. The Girl Who Licked the Wombat’s Armpit. The Girl Who Played With Her Food. Not the most inspiring of titles and not his best work I am sure but the franchise effect will pay dividends. I myself am composing a book entitled Fifty Shades of Sven, in which a young girl is compelled to construct a Smorgasbord for every home game played by the national football team.

Justin:                          And if Mr Larsson’s work has lost its appeal?

Anna:                           Justin. I can imagine your younger self dancing to the music of our greatest cultural export, Abba!

Justin:                          I may in my youth have gyrated to Dancing Queen.

Anna:                           Like many people you probably believe that Agnetha Fältskog has been in self-imposed seclusion for the last thirty years. Whereas in fact she and the Norwegian one have been recording songs in secret for decades, in case our nation needs to bail out some lesser economies.  (pause) Such as your own.

Justin:                          I feel you have more to reveal to me.

Anna:                           Yes! If the world is on the brink of financial meltdown, we can call upon our brave dwarves and elves who have been mining under the Skanderna Mountains for two millennia, and have a supply of gold, rubies, emeralds and diamonds guarded by a fearsome dragon.

Justin:                          Now you are just being silly!

Anna:                           Justin (pause) that was just our famous Swedish sense of humour. We do have one other secret weapon though; known and loved by millions who has been securing our financial stability for nearly forty years.

Justin:                          And that would be?

Swedish Chef:            Bir-de-bir-de-birr-de-bir-de-birr-bup-bup-bup!

Justin:                          Professor Anna Svensson; thank you!

School Dinners Horse Race Sketch

                                    This was my submission to BBC Radio 4 Extra's Newsjack this week. I was fortunate to have tickets. And they didn't use it!! So for my loyal reader, Arthur in Cheltenham, I hope the scarring heals by the weekend.

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Clare Balding:           (or at least a sound-alike) Welcome to Cheltenham for the 12:50 Race: the School Dinner Stakes. A highly anticipated and controversial race after the hullabaloo of recent weeks. What are the latest odds? Over to Tarquin Pompous-Overdresser!

Tarquin P-O:               Thank you Clare; a woman with a body to die for.

Clare:                          And I’m driving the hearse! Get on with it!

Tarquin P-O:               A lively filly no doubt! We have Lamb Kofta widely fancied at eight to one. A lively little number: closely followed by Sausage Casserole at tens and Turkey Twizzler at twelve to one. A couple of tasty options there but for those with a fancy for the unknown we have Unspecified Moulding at a most generous two hundred and fifty to one. Punters with long memories will recall if they had a shilling or two on Foinavon. Popularly known as Scragg End in his stables! The hardened hacks however are piling their pennies on Shepherd’s Pie, best turned out horse in the paddock today with a £100 bonus for his stable lad, young Oliver James.

Clare:                          Thanks Tarquin! The runners and riders are at the tape. Peter O’Toolivan will run down the start for us.

Peter:                          (well spoken, slightly strained voice) Yes Clare, Shepherd’s Pie looking splendid here at the start. Looking quite imperious. Turkey Twizzler looking a little unsettled there, Lamb Kofta alongside. The starter Major James Tightly-Belted-Raincoat is there on his rostrum, the flag is raised and THEY’RE OFF!! Tucked in early on the rails is Sausage Casserole. Just behind is Turkey Twizzler and one of the outsiders Beef Lasagne. Beef Lasagne still holding his ground there, Lamb Kofta tucked in behind as they approach the first fence. And they are all over. No! No! I was mistaken there. A refusal! A refusal for Greasy Cheeseburger! No surprise there he’s had few takers this season. The field keeping well tucked together here as we cross the Melling Road for the first time as I hand over to Michael O’Herliherliherlihy.

Michael:                      (In excitable and highly stereotypical, slightly high-pitched Irish accent) Beef Lasagne taking over at the front there, Shepherd’s Pie still looking comfortable, keeping out of trouble. Trailing a long way behind is Non-Meat Option, looking very lonely over there on the far side. Coming up fast on the inside there is Chilli Meatballs as we approach Becher’s for the first time. Chilli Meatballs up, over, and stumbles on the other side and Chilli Meatballs all over the place. Cottage Pie brought down with her there. Stable mate of Shepherd’s Pie. Very difficult to tell them apart unless you’re a regular punter. A couple more fallers there too. Lamb Kofta looking very heavy a few lengths behind the field, dragging and sticking in the heavy ground. It’s over the Melling Road again and back over to Peter O’Toolivan.

Peter:                          Non-Meat Option has been withdrawn and we have four horses still in with a shout of becoming steaks. Sorry, I meant wining the Stakes. Shepherd’s Pie still looking very comfortable on the shoulder of Sausage Casserole. Turkey Twizzler and Beef Lasagne in the centre of the course there running stride for stride as we approach The Chair. Two loose horses running ahead of the field. Looks like Glue Pot and Dog’s Breakfast who unseated their riders at Becher’s. Disaster for Shepherd’s Pie. Dog’s Breakfast has pulled up in front and Shepherd’s Pie is gone. Sausage Casserole goes with him, its chaos at the Chair! Beef Lasagne and Turkey Twizzler are gone too and through the mayhem comes Unspecified Moulding. There are no other horses running. Unspecified Moulding is the only choice left, the two hundred and fifty to one outside. All he needs to do is to keep upright over the last and the run in. His trainer had no real hope thinking he was a little undercooked for this race, but what a story, an incredible fairytale. It’s Foinavon all over again. The crowd are on their feet. It’s unspecified Moulding who is going to win the School Dinner Stakes. Just the last to go. He’s gone! He’s gone! Unspecified Moulding is a faller at the last! He’s gone down! (SFX Profuse and Violent Vomiting) No! He’s back up again! Unspecified Moulding is up and all over the place but still going, staggering now but he’s over the line. The Winner of the School Dinner Stakes! What a story!