(Sketch continues from 'Teddy Salad (CIA Agent)'. Cut to a
picture of the outside of l0 Downing Street. Zoom in on the door.
Music: 'Rule Britannia' type theme. Cut to interior - a few circular
tables, dim lighting. The decor of a rather exclusive restaurant.
Subdued murmur of upper-class people stuffing their faces. A gypsy
violinist is going from table to table playing and singing. In the
middle of all this there is the prime minister at a big
leather-topped desk, covered with official papers, three telephones,
an intercom, tape recorder, a photo of Eisenhower with a very small
bunch of flowers in front of it in a sort of self-contained shrine,
an in/out tray, blotter, etc. The intercom buzzes.
Voice: The Secretary of State to see you, Prime Minister.
Prime Minister: Very well, show him in.
(The prime minister switches off. The secretary of state
enters, wending his way through the tables. He sits at the desk. He
is in a rather agitated condition.)
Secretary of State: Prime Minister.
Prime Minister: Do take a seat.
(He takes a seat from the next table; the lady sitting on it
falls to the floor.)
Secretary of State: Prime Minister, we've just had the
Supreme Commander US Forces on the phone. Apparently they want a
full-scale Red Alert!
Prime Minister: They what?
(The gypsy violinist has come round to the desk. He is playing
a sad, slow melody and smiling encouragingly at them. They glance at
him. He flashes a white smile. The secretary of state drops his
voice and huddles closer to the prime minister.)
Secretary of State: They want a full-scale Red Alert -
every troop movement...
(As the secretary leans forward so does the gypsy, musing the
secretary to break off in mid-sentence.)
Prime Minister: It's all right - don't worry about
Giuseppe... (the secretary looks at the gypsy who smiles again
toothily) He's English really.
Secretary of State: Well apparently the whole structure of
world peace may be threatened unless we immediately...
Giuseppe: (heavy accent, leaning forwards) Your
Prime Minister: No, no, Giuseppe - not now.
Giuseppe: (indicating the secretary of state) You
mean zis isn't ze lady?
Prime Minister: No.
Giuseppe: Oh, signora ... my mistake! I play for you 'My
Mistake'. (before the prime minister can stop him he goes into a
strident Italian song) 'My mistake, I have made my mistake! What
a dreadful mistake! Is this mistake that I make!' (strums
violently and starts on the second verse) 'Oh my mistake...'
Prime Minister: Giuseppe, do you mind playing over there.
Giuseppe: (flashing a winning smile) Very well,
signor. But I play only for you... and your beautiful companion.
(He moves off mysteriously, singing the mistake song.)
Secretary of State: Well anyway, this Mr. Neutron, is
located somewhere in the London area. We must find and exterminate
him. The Americans say if we don't, they will.
Prime Minister: (straining to hear over noise of
Secretary of State: The Americans say if we won't they
Prime Minister: That he doesn't know what?
Secretary of State: They'll bomb the entire London area.
Prime Minister: (getting up) We'd better get out of
here!... (he grabs the photo of Eisenhower)
Secretary of State: They won't bomb here.
Prime Minister: Are you sure?
Secretary of State: Sure.
Prime Minister: (sitting down with great relief)
Right. When are they going to start?
Secretary of State: Well apparently they haven't got
Neutron yet... but when they do...
(The diners have by .this time joined a conga led by the gypsy
violinist playing My Mistake'. Awfully heartily they dance past the
prime minister's desk.
Cut to Artic wastes. The wind howls. The trapper is sitting beside a
fire, picking his nose thoughtfully and tending a stew pan. The dog
bounds back, Carpenter on the end of his lead, breathless from
trying to keep up.)
Trapper: Well. Did he tell you anything?
Carpenter: (worn out by the walk) No ... we chased
sticks ... we chased a few reindeer...
Trapper: (patting the dog) You been chasing
reindeer, have you? You're a naughty boy... yes... ain't you a
Carpenter: Look, we haven't got much time .. · He hasn't
given me any information yet...
Trapper: OK. Tell you what, let's eat. You give him one of
your meatballs, he'll tell you anything.. · OK?
(Suddenly the dog woofs, gets up on back legs and starts
pawing the trapper.)
Trapper: Wait a minute - he's trying to tell us something.
(A strangled, strained American voice comes from within the
dog. Slightly muffled perhaps.)
Dog: Carpenter ... er ... ugh ... ah...Carpenter...
Carpenter: (kneeling down and peering into the dog's
face) Yes, Mr. Salad? Can you hear me?
Dog: Yes... yes... it's just it's so goddam painful in
here... what's the problem?
Carpenter: It's Mr. Neutron, sir ... he's gone missing.
The Supreme Commander wants you to take charge.
Dog: I ... oh God ... I ... I ... I...
Carpenter: Yes, Mr. Salad?
Dog: I gotta go walkies again.
(Cut to the office of the supreme commander. He is now nude
behind his desk. A kidney bowl full of water is on desk; he is
dabbing at himself with a sponge. The intercom buzzes. He switches
Voice: Still no sign of Captain Carpenter, sir... or Mr.
Commander: OK. We'll bomb Neutron out. Get me Moscow!
Peking! and Shahkiln, Isle of Wight!
(Cut to stock film of B52s on a bombing raid.)
Voice Over: And so the Great Powers and the people of
Shahkiln, Isle of Wight, drew their net in ever-tightening circles
around the most dangerous threat to peace the world has ever faced.
They bombed Cairo, Bangkok, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Harrow,
Hammersmith, Stephey, Wandsworth and Enfield... But always it was
the wrong place.
(Cut to an area of smoking rubble. A van with the words 'US
Air Force' on the side trundles through the rubble. It has a
loudspeaker on the top of it.)
Loudspeaker: Sorry Enfield!... We apologize for any
inconvenience caused by our bombing... sorry...
Voice Over: But what of Mr. Neutron, the most fearfully
dangerous man in the world! The man who could destroy entire
galaxies with his wrist, the man who could tear fruit machines apart
with his eyeballs... He had not been idle!