Zoom in to overlay showing some stock film of hansom cabs
galloping past. Suitably classy music starts.
CAPTION: LONDON 1895
CAPTION:
THE RESIDENCE OF
MR. OSCAR WILDE
Mix through to Wilde's drawing room. A crowd of suitably
dressed folk are engaged in typically brilliant conversation,
laughing affectedly and drinking champagne.
Prince: My congratulations, Wilde. Your latest play is a
great success. The whole of London's talking about you.
Oscar: There is only one thing in the world worse than
being talked about, and that is not being talked about.
There follows fifteen seconds of restrained and sycophantic
laughter.
Prince: Very very witty ... very very witty.
Whistler: There is only one thing in the world worse than
being witty, and that is not being witty.
Fifteen more seconds of the same.
Oscar: I wish I had said that.
Whistler: You will, Oscar, you will.
(more laughter)
Oscar: Your Majesty, have you met James McNeill Whistler?
Prince: Yes, we've played squash together.
Oscar: There is only one thing worse than playing squash
together, and that is playing it by yourself. (silence) I
wish I hadn't said that.
Whistler: You did, Oscar, you did.
(a little laughter)
Prince: You really must forgive me, Wilde, I've got to get
back up the Palace.
Oscar: Your Majesty is like a big jam doughnut with cream
on the top.
Prince: I beg your pardon?
Oscar: Um ... It was one of Whistler's.
Whistler: I never said that.
Oscar: You did, James, you did.
The Prince of Wales stares expectantly at Whistler.
Whistler: ... Well, Your Highness, what I meant was that,
like a doughnut, um, your arrival gives us pleasure and your
departure only makes us hungry for more.
(laughter)
Your Highness, you are also like a stream of bat's piss.
Prince: What?
Whistler: It was one of Wilde's. One of Wilde's.
Oscar: It sodding was not! It was Shaw!
Shaw: I ... I merely meant, Your Majesty, that you shine
out like a shaft of gold when all around is dark.
Prince: (accepting the compliment) Oh.
Oscar: (to Whistler) Right. Right? (to Prince)
Your Majesty is like a dose of clap.
Whistler: Before you arrive -- before you arrive is
pleasure, and after is a pain in the dong.
Prince: What?
Oscar and Whistler: One of Shaw's, one of Shaw's
Shaw: You bastards. Um ... what I meant, Your Majesty,
what I meant ...
Oscar: We've got him, Jim.
Whistler: Come on, Shaw-y.
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Shaw: I merely meant ...
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Whistler: Let's have a bit of wit, then, man.
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Shaw: (blows a raspberry)
The Prince shakes Shaw's hand. Laughter all round.