(Begins with a picture of the sun rising over two mountain
peaks)
Announcer: Mount Everest. Forbidding, aloof, terrifying.
The mountain with the biggest tits in the world.
(Gong crashes, a disgusted voice interrupts)
Voice Over: Start again!
A very silly loony leans into shot, on overlay (i.e. in front
of the picture), and waves to the camera. He goes out of shot again.
Announcer: Mount Everest. Forbidding, aloof, terrifying.
This year, this remote Himalayan mountain, this mystical temple,
surrounded by the most difficult terrain in the world, repulsed yet
another attempt to conquer it. (Picture changes to wind-swept,
snowy tents and people) This time, by the International
Hairdresser's Expedition. In such freezing, adverse conditions, man
comes very close to breaking point. What was the real cause of the
disharmony which destroyed their chances at success?
Cut to three head-and-shoulders shots. They look like typical
mountaineers: frost in their beards, tanned, with snow glasses on
their foreheads and authentic Everest headgear.
Hairdresser #1: Well, people keep taking your hairdryer on
every turn.
Hairdresser #2: There's a lot of bitching in the tents.
Hairdresser #3: You couldn't get near the mirror.
(Cut to the announcer, a stuffy looking older man, delicately
trimming millimeters off the leaves of cabbages growing in his
country garden.)
Announcer: The leader of the expedition was Colonel Sir
John Cheesy-Weezy Butler, veteran K2, Annapurna, and Vidal. His plan
was to ignore the usual route around the south and to make straight
for the top.
(next part shows a map of the mountain)
Colonel: We established Base Salon here, and climbed quite
steadily up to Mario's, here. From here, using crampons and cutting
ice steps as we went, we moved steadily up the face to the north
ridge, establishing Camp Three, where we could get a hot meal, a
manicure, and a shampoo and set.
Announcer: Could it work? Could this 18-year old
hairdresser from Brixton succeed where others had failed? The
situation was complicated by the imminent arrival of the monsoon
storms. Patrice takes up the story.
(cut to Patrice in a salon, very effeminately brushing and
blow- drying a customer's hair.)
Patrice: Well, we knew as well as anyone that the monsoons
were due. But the thing was, Ricky and I had just had a blow dry and
rinse, and we couldn't go out for a couple of days.
(Picture of mountaineers climbing down mountain)
Announcer: After a blazing row, the Germans and Italians
had turned back, taking with them the last of the hairnets. On the
third day, a blizzard blew up. Temperatures fell to minus 30 degrees
centigrade. Inside the little tent, things were getting desperate.
(Ricky and another member of the expedition (John Cleese) are
crowded inside a little tent, sporting beards, hairnets, and
curlers. They sit beneath stationary hairdryers. Cleese is reading,
Ricky is buffing his nails.)
Ricky: Well, things have gotten so bad that we've been
forced to use the last of the heavy oxygen equipment just to keep
the dryers going. (A woman hands him a cup of tea.) Oh, she's a
treasure.
(wide shot of Everest)
Announcer: But a new factor had entered the race. A team
of French chiropodists, working with brand new corn plasters and Dr.
Scholl's Mountaineering Sandals, were close behind. The Glasgow
Orpheus male voice choir were tackling the difficult north part. All
together, fourteen expeditions were at the scene. This was it. Ricky
had to make a decision.
(back to Patrice at his salon)
Patrice: Well, he decided to open a salon.
Announcer: It was a tremendous success.
(the following is accompanied by pictures of great
mountaineering heroes upon whom are pasted elaborate Marie
Antoinette style hairdos - cinema style adverts)
Advert Voice: Challenging Everest? Why not drop in at
Ricky Pule's, only 2400 feet from this cinema. (A huge pink neon
sign reading 'Ricky's' appears on the mountain.) Ricky and
Maurice offer a variety of styles for the well-groomed climber. Why
should Tensing and Sir Edmond Hillary be number one on top, when
you're number one on top?