(Enter a pantomime principal boy holding a stuffed cat. All
the rest of the group break back in a well-choreographed panto
arrowhead and raise their hands toward her.)
All: It's ... Puss!
Audience: Hello, Puss!
Principal Boy: Hello, children!
Police Chief: Stop! Stop this adaptation of
'Puss-in-Boots'! This is the Police Department of the State of
Venezuela!
Principal Boy: Oh no it isn't!
Police Chief: Oh, yes it is!
Principal Boy: (kids joining in voice over) Oh no
it isn't!
All: (plus kids) Oh yes it is!
Principal Boy: (plus kids) Oh no it isn't...
Police Chief: Shut up! Shut up! (getting up, holding a
pistol; he has no trousers; silence) Now I'm going to ask you
some questions, and remember, if you do not give me correct answers,
we have ways of making you answer!
Voice From Back: Like not paying twenty-eight guineas.
Police Chief: Shut up! Now, what ship are you from?
Captain: We are from the SS Mother Goose, we were twelve
days out from Port of Spain, and I ...
(The door is flung open and the second - trouserless - guard
rushes in.)
Second Guard: I got thirty bob for the trousers!
Captain: We are from SS Mother Goose. We were twelve days
out from Port of Spain, and one night I was doing my usual rounds,
when I had occasion to pass the forward storage lockers...
(Slightly eerie music has crept in under his words and the
screen goes into a ripple. It gets right out of focus and continues
to ripple as it pulls back into focus. Ripple stops and they are
still in the same set as they were.)
Police Chief: Go on!
Captain: Well, I noticed something unusual, the main bilge
hatches had been opened... (at this point three men in brown
coats come in and start taking pictures off the wall, clearing props
and chairs from the set, etc.) and there, crouching amidst the
scuppers was the most ghastly creature I'd ever seen in my life.
(the flats start to be flown up, revealing behind a sitting room -
so that we can see the police office has been built in the Kelly's
sitting room) As soon as it saw me, its horrible face split
aside in a ghastly look of terror. His head, which was like ...
Scene Shifter: Could you sign this please? (handing the
captain a piece of paper) Thank you.
Captain: A small, small rat was ghastly and horrible and
befurred... its little red eyes glinted in the unaccustomed glare of
the midday sun and before I could shut the hatch, it sprang upon me
with one almighty...
(By this time the whole office set has been removed revealing
the Kelly's boarding house sitting room. Mr. and Mrs. Kelly come in
through door and put their heads round.)
Mrs. Kelly: What's this about doing the 'Horse of the Year
Show' in here tonight?
Chief Officer: I'm sorry, Mrs. Kelly. We don't know, I'm
afraid - this is drama.
Mrs. Kelly: Mr. Fox told me, before he went down to the
pub, that they were doing 'Horse of the Year Show' in here tonight
at 9.Io.
Chief of Police: This is BBC 2.
Captain: I think BBC I are in the kitchen.
Mrs. Kelly: Well, I'm not having Harvey Smith jumping over
my binette.
Mr. Kelly: No, come on. (they go)
Captain: ... tearing at my throat, ripping my clothes...
(Mr. Kelly puts his head round the door.)
Mr. Kelly: And turn the gas off before you leave!
Police Chief: All right!!
(Mr. Kelly goes.)
Captain: I fought it with all my strength, but it was too
much for me...
(Cut to Mr. and Mrs. Kelly coming through the hall. We can
hear the captain's voice growing faster. Mr. and Mrs. Kelly go
towards the kitchen door and stop and listen. We have lost the
captain's voice by now, but · from inside the kitchen we hear 'Horse
of the Year Show' sound track.)
Dorian Williams: (voice over) Another clear round
for Harvey Smith on 'Orealley'.
Commentator: (voice over on tannoy) And now it's
Mrs. David Barker riding 'Atalanta' Number 3.
(Crash of breaking pottery, falling pots and pans, horse
neighing.)
Mrs. Kelly: Right! That's it! (they throw door open and
march into the kitchen; a horse plus Pat Hornsby Smith and the
commentator and the wreckage of a jump) Come on now, out! All of
you - get out of my kitchen, all of you - come on! Harvey Smith, get
out of here!
(She chases them out and down the hall.)
Paul Fox: (emerging from another door) It's one of
our most popular programs.
Mrs. Kelly: That's what you think, Mr. Fox!
(She shushes them all out down the passage and out of the
front door. The newsreader with a blanket over him joins them and
tries to read off a piece of paper.)
Newsreader: Well, that's all from BBC Television for this
evening...
Mrs. Kelly: (slamming door on him) Shove off! Go
and find yourself another flat! Get out!
(As she slams the door, a piece of paper (obviously a tax
return fore) is shoved through the door. It has the credits
scribbled hurriedly on it; the camera pans into it. After the
credits Mrs. Kelly stamps on the paper. Fade out.)