Mrs. Non-Robinson: (on radio) Morning Mrs.
Mrs. Robinson: (on radio) Mornin Mrs.
Mrs. Non-Robinson: Been shopping?
Mrs. Robinson: No, ... I've been shopping.
During this exchange there have been six cuts to close-ups
of radios of different shapes and sizes.
Mrs. Non-Robinson: What'd you buy?
Pull out to reveal a pepperpot. Mrs. Non-Gorilla sitting
beside a radio on a park bench.
Mrs. Robinson: (on radio) A piston engine.
Mrs. Non-Robinson: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs. Robinson: It was a bargain.
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: Bloody rubbish. (she turns the
Quick cut to a hospital, doctor on a bed listening to a
radio. It switches off.
Doctor: I wanted to listen to that!
Cut back to Mrs. Non-Gorilla. Another pepperpot approaches.
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: Morning Mrs. Gorilla.
Mrs. Gorilla: Morning Mrs. Non-Gorilla.
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: Have you been shopping?
Mrs. Gorilla: No ... been shopping.
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: Did you buy anything?
Mrs. Gorilla: A piston engine!
She reveals a six-cylinder car engine on a white tray, on a
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs. Gorilla: Oooh! It was a bargain.
Start to pan away from them, their voices become fainter
Mrs. Non-Gorilla: Oooohhh!
Pan across a civic park, of which the only occupants are
about ten pepperpots, dressed identically, scattered across on
benches. One pepperpot is in a wheelchair. We come in to Mrs.
Non-Smoker, unwrapping a parcel and calling to the birds.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: Come on little birdies ... come on
little birdies ... tweet tweet ... come and see what mummy's got
for you ...
She unwraps the parcel revealing a leg of lamb which she
hurls at the gathered birds. A screech. She kills a pigeon. She
reaches in a another bag and produces two tins of pineapple chunks
and throws them.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: Come on little birdies ... tweety
tweety ... oooh look at this ... tweet tweet ... ooohhh nice one
... come on little birdies ...
She chortles with delight as she hurls a huge jar of
mayonnaise which smashes messily. She then throws a large frozen
turkey, a jar of onions, a bag of frozen peas, and a bottle of
wine. We widen as Mrs. Smoker, with an identical piston engine to
the last pepperpot, comes up to Mrs. Non-Smoker. Quite a large
area in front of Mrs. Non-Smoker is littered with packaged foods
and dead birds; a bird is pecking at a tin of paté; a small pond
in front of her has a swan upside down with its feet sticking in
the air, a huge tin floating beside it.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: Oohh hello, Mrs. Smoker.
Mrs. Smoker: Hello Mrs. Non-Smoker.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: What, you been shopping then?
Mrs. Smoker: Nope ... I've been shopping!
Mrs. Non-Smoker: What d'you buy?
Mrs. Smoker: A piston engine!
Mrs. Non-Smoker: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs. Smoker: It was a bargain!
Mrs. Non-Smoker: How much d'you want for it?
Mrs. Smoker: Three quid!
Mrs. Non-Smoker: Done. (she hands over the money)
Mrs. Smoker: Right. Thank you.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: How d'you cook it?
Mrs. Smoker: You don't cook it.
Mrs. Non-Smoker: You can't eat that raw!
Mrs. Smoker: Ooooh ... never thought of that. Oh, day
and night, but this is wondrous strange ...
Mrs. Non-Smoker: ... and therefore is a stranger welcome
it. There are more things in Heaven and Earth Horatio, than are
dreamt of in your philosophy. But come, the time is out of joint.
Oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right. Let's go
They get up and go. Fade to black.