The Young Ones:CASH 1
[NOTE: Please send corrections to Steve Rapport. Thanks.]
CASH - Part Two
VYVYAN: Burning, what's it look like?
RICK: Oh, so you're burning the stair carpet, are you, Vyvyan? Well perhaps I'm being terribly old fashioned...
MIKE: Rick! Where'd you find all that firewood?
RICK: Um, eh...Between my legs.
VYVYAN: [Taking the wood from Rick] Wish I'd thought of that.
RICK: Well, I wish you'd done it! I might want to have had children one day.
VYVYAN: What a revolting thought!
VYVYAN: Oh, certainly, Michael.
MIKE: [to Vyv] You said it was your record player.
VYVYAN: No, I didn't, Mike, I said "Let's throw Rick's record player on the fire, that'll be good for a laugh."
RICK: Yes, it is, now give it back!
VYVYAN: Okay.
VYVYAN: And by the looks of it you failed them all.
RICK: That's not true! I got a B for French, I got a C for divinity...
MIKE: Look, Rick, we're all completely broke, so we've got to make sacrifices. I myself have generously donated my used tissue collection. And Vyvyan has burned averything Neil owns.
RICK: Yes, well ever mind about all that now, I'm more interested in sorting out this O level business! I got a four for ...
VYVYAN: Sounds like supper's ready.
VYVYAN: Neil, Neil, Neil! Nails aren't in the recipe.
NEIL: I'm not cooking, Vyvyan, I'm just trying to nail the plates to the table.
VYVYAN: Neil, is it really necessary to nail the plates to the table? What happens when we want to play Monopoly? Go directly to plate? Do not pass plate nailed to the table by a stupid hippie?
NEIL: No, no, guys, you don't understand. I've got something real scary to lay on you, okay, so, like, sit down.
RICK: What do you mean, sit down? There's only one chair. Do you expect us to all put our bottoms on that and catch horrible diseases off each other?
NEIL: It's not important, Rick...
RICK: Well I think it's rather important, actually! I happen to be rather attached to my bottom.
VYVYAN: Well, I've got a couple of seats in my car.
RICK: Alright, well we'll have to use them then.
VYVYAN: No...They're attached. I mean, you sit in them while you're driving. I suppose I could drive the whole car in!
RICK: No, no, no, better idea -- we'll go out there.
VYVYAN: Ah-ha! [Rick and Vyv start walking out]
NEIL: No, wait, guys, guys! What about my scary story?
RICK: Well, you'll just have to make us a tape, Neil.
VYVYAN: No, that's not good. My cassette's bust.
RICK: Well you'll just have to come out there with us.
VYVYAN: No, there's only two seats.
NEIL: I could go in the boot.
VYVYAN: No, no, Neil. 'Cause if you so much as touch my car, I'm going to kill you. Remember?
NEIL: Oh, yeah.
MIKE: Oh, Neil...
RICK: Brilliant! Squatting! Youth control, no rent!
RICK: Neil, is it my imagination, or has this table shrunk?
NEIL: That's what I've been trying to tall you for the last ten minutes, right! [whispering] Strange things keep happening in this house. Furniture keeps disappearing. Plates keep, like, moving about the place. The table is shrinking. And last night, I found my guitar on the fire. Do you know what all this means?
VYV and RICK: [nodding] Yes, it means...
NEIL: No, no...yeah! It means we've got a poltergoost!
RICK: Don't be such a spazmo, Neil! There's no ghosts, there's no God, there's a perfectly rational explanation for any kind of phenomena you might encounter.
NEIL: Oh, yeah, well how do you explain the table shrinking, then?
RICK: Uh, eh...
VYVYAN: Well, I did that, actually.
NEIL: Yeah, you see, I was right! It's the poltergoost! It's making him float!
RICK: [screaming] Aaahhhhhh! Get a priest! Get a vicar! I believe in God!
VYVYAN: Why, Mike?
MIKE: I've just nailed my legs to the table.
GHOST2:Yeah. Ere, 'old it, prithee, prithee. Art thou saying that Bacon wrote all of Shakespeare's plays?
GHOST1: Which bit of bacon?
GHOST2: His hand!
GHOST1: Bacon hasn't got hands.
GHOST2: Look, I'm not prepared to discuss it. All I'm saying is that they found a manuscript in a packet of bacon. Cod-piece face!
GHOST1: What did you say?
GHOST2: I said, cod-piece face!
GHOST1: What did you say?
GHOST2: I said, cod-piece face!
GHOST1: What did you say?
GHOST2: I said... cod-piece face!
GHOST2: I said --
GHOST1: Look, don't be evasive!
GHOST2: Aw, sod it!
GHOST1: Aaaaah, my foot...
NEIGHBOUR: I know that. You've been 'round here six times today already.
VYVYAN: Ha ha ha ha! Yeah! Nice day.
NEIGHBOUR: No it's not, it's snowing!
VYVYAN: Oh! Ha ha ha! Well, I mean, if you like snow and being really cold, it's a nice day.
NEIGHBOUR: Well, I don't. And you're letting cold air in. Now what d'ya want?!?
VYVYAN: Um...Could I borrow...a cup of sugar...please?
NEIGHBOUR: Another one? How many is that you've had? You'll rot your teeth, you know.
NEIGHBOUR: [returning with the cup, she menacingly grabs Vyv by the collar]: Do you think I could have some of my cups back, sometime?
VYVYAN: [thinking it over very carefully] Umm...yeah.
NEIGHBOUR: [hands him the cup] There you are.
RICK: No, I'm bloody not! Why can't you use Vyvyan as a chair? He burned them all!
MIKE: Oh, nice one, Vyv.
MIKE: Yeah?
NEIL: Well, that's it. I'm quite pleased with it so far, though.
MIKE: Oh, well, it's a strong opening, certainly.
VYVYAN: I don't like the "Dear". Sounds a bit too much like, "will you go to bed with me?"
NEIL: Well spoken, Vyvyan. What do you think instead?
VYVYAN: Uh, what about..."Darling"?
RICK: No, no, no, no, no, not "Bank Manager", it's far too crawly bum-lick. Tell it like it is, put, "Fascist Bullyboy"!
NEIL: "Darling Fascist Bullyboy..."
MIKE: That's nice, yes, so far so good. So what do you want to say?
NEIL: Well, basically, I want to ask him if I can have, like, an extension on my overdraft, but I know there must be a better way of putting it than that.
MIKE: Well, what about, "Give me some more money"?
VYVYAN: ..."You bastard!"
MIKE: Ah, Neil, people like that respect strength.
NEIL: Yeah, you're right. Uh, "Darling Fascist Bullyboy, Give me some more money, you bastard..." Uh... "Love, Neil".
VYVYAN: Not "_Love_ Neil"! That sounds far too much like, "Come and get it like a bitch-funky sex machine!"
NEIL: Yeah, you're right...Uh, what about, "Yours sincerely"?
RICK: Oh, come off it, Neil. If you're going to be that sycophantic, why don't you go 'round there now and stick your tongue straight down the back of his trousers?
NEIL: Oh, look, I know, I know, why not, "Boom Shanka"?
MIKE: That's hard to tell, Neil. What does it mean?
NEIL: It means, "May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman."
RICK: Ah-ha! And what makes you think your bank manager's a man?
NEIL: Uh...His beard.
MIKE: He'll never understand "Boom Shanka", you'll have to write the whole thing out.
NEIL: Right, okay, here we go. "Darling Fascist Bullyboy, Give me some more money, you bastard. May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman, Neil." [he looks pleased]
RICK: Well, if that doesn't work, I don't know what will.
MIKE: The only trouble is we're running low on fuel.
Vyv, chuck it on the fire.
NEIL: Coming. [Neil exits to get supper]
RICK: Yeah, I'm so hungry I could eat my own ear wax. [to camera] And we all know how horrid that tastes, right, kids? [Rick samples some earwax.]
VYVYAN: Mike, Mike, did we burn the sofa?
MIKE: Right, 'fraid so, Vyv.
VYVYAN: I thought we did.
Come on, Neil, we're ready!
NEIL: [entering with two plates, which he hands to Mike and Vyv] Right, now here it is, now eat it up quickly, okay?
MIKE: What's this?
NEIL: Uh...It's risotto, Mike.
NEIL: No, it's probably just gone cold, Vyv.
VYVYAN: Neil, this is snow!
NEIL: No, it's risotto, Vyv!
VYVYAN: Look, I know snow when I see it! I should do, it's all I've had to eat for the past three days.
NEIL: Well, it's very nourishing, Vyvyan.
VYVYAN: Snow, snow, bloody snow! I hate the bloody sight of it!
MIKE: [eating greedily] Don't you want yours, then?
VYVYAN: Ah-ha! No, I didn't say that, did I, Mike? [Vyv picks at his supper] Oh, God, this is disgusting!
VYVYAN: [standing up in disgust] Why can't we have some decent food?
NEIL: Because we haven't got any bread.
VYVYAN: Well why don't we get some bread?
NEIL: Because, Vyvyan, we haven't got any bread!
MIKE: Alright, this has gone far enough. House meeting!
VYVYAN: Rick, wake up!
GHOST1: Oi, now just listen, please? Thank you. This is my body, that one there is yours.
GHOST2: Rubbish! You're only saying that because this one has a nicer bottom.
GHOST1: I know it's mine, 'cause that bum's got no rhythm!
GHOST2: I don't believe this! You are cynically exploiting the fact that we've been beheaded so you can grab yourself a nicer bott!
GHOST1: Oh, for sooth's sake...Look, this is my bottom.
GHOST2: Forget it, forget it! Look, we'll split the bottom.
GHOST1: What, right down the middle?
GHOST2: Look, there's no need to get aggressive!
NEIL: You are, Rick. I can sense it.
RICK: I AM NOT! I just don't see why it has to be me who gets a job.
NEIL: Well it can't be me, I lead an alternative lifestyle.
RICK: Alternative lifestyle! HA! You're as alternative as Channel Four!
MIKE: [shooting a gun into the air] Alright, now why don't we look for a job in the paper?
VYVYAN: [returning with the paper] Here we are, situations vacant, pages seven to thirteen.
NEIL: "...it's great, you can have a gun if you want."
RICK: Uh, well, now, yes, well, now, there's me out, you see. Perforated eardrum.
MIKE: Really? Yeah, me too.
RICK: Uh...Pardon?
MIKE: Flat feet.
VYVYAN: [folding up the paper and putting it on the fire] Well! That just leaves Neil then.
NEIL: What? No, no way! Why can't it be Vyvyan for a change?
VYVYAN: [nervously] Uh...well, Neil, since you come to mention it, there is something I've been meaning to tell all of you for some time...Uh...I went to see the doctor today...And, well...I think I'm pregnant.
MIKE, RICK, and NEIL: What?
VYVYAN: I'm going to have a baby!
NEIL: That's impossible!
VYVYAN: Yeah, that's what she said! You just can't trust women, can you?
RICK: But...How did it happen?
MIKE: Oh, come on, Rick, how old are you?
RICK: Well, that's rather a personal question, isn't it!
MIKE: Didn't your mother ever tell you about the birds and the bees?
NEIL: Mine did, but I didn't believe her. Well, I mean, what if the bird got stung, like halfway through? Well, I mean there's a big size difference. Ostriches are really big, right...
VYVYAN: [clutching his stomach] OH! OH NO! The contractions are starting!!
RICK: What do you mean, "Sit down"? There aren't any
chairs!
MIKE: Yeah, and all the towels have been burnt!
NEIL: Oh, no! We've got to buy some furniture for Vyvyan
quickly!
RICK: We can't! We haven't got any money! Vyvyan's baby will be
a poorper! Oliver Twist! Jeffrey Dickens! Back to Victorian values!
[directly to camera, angrily] I hope you're satisfied,
Thatcher!
VYVYAN: Hurry! Get some money very quickly!
MIKE: Right! There's only one thing for it, Neil!
NEIL: You're right! I've got to join the Army before Vyvyan has a
baby!
End of part one...
[SCENE: The guys' house, in the kitchen. Almost all the furniture is gone, and Neil is wrapped in a dingy blanket. He takes some plates out of the cupboard and puts them on the kitchen table. He turns to get cutlery from the drawer and when looks a t the table, he is puzzled to find that the plates have disappeared. He turns back towards the cupboards, and is startled to see that they, too have suddenly disappeared.]
[SCENE: Rick's bedroom. His record player is playing {some old pop song} and Rick is sitting on a chair, asleep over the first page of Das Kapital. Suddenly, Vyv snatches the book from his hand and the chair from under him; he also grabs the record player and runs out of the room. Rick wakes up, incensed.]
RICK: Vyvyan! You bastard![Rick runs into the hallway and shouts down the stairs]
RICK: Vyvyan! You've got no respect for property![Rick starts running down the stairs but slips; he slides downstairs astride the bottom of the bannister, painfully taking the pegs down with him.]
[SCENE: The empty kitchen/dining area, where Mike and Vyv have a fire going in the fireplace. Vyv is burning the stair carpet, and is hacking apart Rick's record player with an ax for more firewood. Rick enters carrying what used to be the bannister.]
RICK: Alright, what's the stair carpet doing on the fire?[Vyv throws the wood on the fire]
MIKE: This calls for a celebration! Vyv, throw another record player on the fire. [Vyv throws Rick's record player in the fireplace]
RICK: You bastard! That's my record player![Vyv gives Rick a smug look]
MIKE: Oh, yeah, that's right. Yeah, it is yours, Rick.[He hands Rick one of the smouldering remains. Rick takes it, looks at it for a moment, then gives it back to Vyv in resigned frustration]
RICK: [Almost in tears] My parents gave me that record player after my O levels![Neil enters, pushing the kitchen table into the room. He pushes it right into Rick]
...OWW![Vyv and Mike approach the table while Rick sulks in the corner. Neil begins attempting to nail down the plates with giant spikes; only the plates keep breaking.]
VYVYAN: Neil, we're not having broken crockery again? That's my recipe![Mike takes the only chair and sits at the table]
NEIL: I don't seem to be able to nail the plates to the table without breaking them.[Meanwhile, Mike starts fiddling with the nails and plates]
VYVYAN: Oh, yeah, that's a point. We won't be able to hear Neil from out there.[Mike whipers something in Neil's ear]
NEIL: Oh, yeah, great idea, Mike. [to Vyv and Rick] Hey, guys, look, I've got something real scary to lay on you, okay, so, like, squat down.[Vyv, Neil, and Rick squat down next to the table]
NEIL: Okay, so listen...[Dramatic music, thunderclap, scary noises]
MIKE: Don't be stupid, Neil, there's no such thing![Vyv stand up and grabs a chainsaw. Meanwhile, Mike successfully nails two plates to the table. Vyv revs up the chainsaw and saws off each leg of Mike's chair. The chair, however, seems to hover in the air.]
VYVYAN: See?...God! Mike's floating! How's that done, then?[Rick frantically crosses himself]
MIKE: [in pain] Never mind a priest, call an ambulance.[Scary noises and thunderclaps as the guys attend to Mike, and two ghosts dressed in Elizabethan clothing and holding their severed heads in their arms materialize in the room, unseen by the guys.]
GHOST1: What's the matter? Sore Throat?[the ghosts continue in this vein as they pass through the guy's wall into the neighbour's house, the argument getting more and more heated.]
GHOST1: What did you say?[he head-butts GHOST1, knocking GHOST1's head out of his arms. GHOST1's body walks around blindly looking for the head. Meanwhile, we see a woman sitting on the couch, oblivious to the hosts]
GHOST2: Let's go kick his teeth in...Kick him![GHOST2's body kicks GHOST1's head, which is on the floor; GHOST1 bites GHOST2's toe. GHOST2's body reels and drops his head in the woman's lap. The woman farts loudly. The two now headless bodies flail at each other, and the woman turns on the television. An announcer is sitting at a desk giving an editorial.]
ANNOUNCER: With Christmas only four months away, imagine that this desktop is a crowded shopping street on a busy Saturday morning. And say, for instance, that this huge meringue...[he places a huge meringue on the desktop]...
filled with whipped cream is a young mother loaded down with her groceries. And perhaps this enormous, soggy, overripe tomato...[he produces one and places it next to the meringue]
...is a tiny little girl - who doesn't realize what a dangerous place her exciting new world is. And let's assume that this cling-film parcel...[he produces a plastic-wrapped pile of mush]...
of mashed banana and jam is a deaf senior citizen...Who's in a wheelchair...And is blind. And this cricket bat with a breeze block nailed to it...[he produces said item]...
is your car. Now what happens if your car mounts the pavement? [ANNOUNCER swiftly smashes all three items to bits with the cricket bay]
Think once! Think twice! Think DON'T DRIVE YOUR CAR ON THE PAVEMENT![the ghosts' bodies are still stumbling around in search of their heads. Each head is shouting "over here! over here!" GHOST1's body picks up a fishbowl.]
GHOST1: No, no, that's a goldfish bowl, put it down.[GHOST2's body picks up a grapefruit]
GHOST2 [still in the woman's lap]: No, that's a grapefruit! Now will you please pick me up before this woman farts again! [she farts again][From outside, Vyvan knocks on the woman's window. Through the window we can see that it's snowing and very cold. The woman rises to answer Vyv's knock, and GHOST2's head falls to the floor with a thunk. GHOST2 moans. The woman opens the window and looks impatiently at Vyv.]
VYVYAN: [trying to be charming] Hello! I am your neighbour![she leaves the window to get the cup of sugar]
VYVYAN: Yeah, I was a bit worried about that, so I had all mine kicked out before I came 'round. These are Neil's.[she shuts the window as Vyv leaves]
[SCENE: back in the guy's house. Mike and Rick are by the fireplace. Rick is leaned over on the floor with his bum in the air; Mike, his legs wrapped in bandages, is using Rick for a chair.]
MIKE: You're not very comfortable, Rick.[Vyv enters]
VYVYAN: Because I've been out gathering winter fuel, haven't I! Look, Mike, I've got another one.[Mike points to the fireplace. Vyv empties the cup on the floor and throws the cup into the fire. It burns brightly for a moment, and Mike, Rick, and Vyv crowd around for warmth. Neil enters carrying a piece of paper and a pen.]
NEIL: Guys, guys, guys, I think I've solved our money problem. I'm writing to my bank manager. See what you think. [he reads from his letter] "Dear Bank Manager."[the guys concur]
NEIL: [writing] "Darling Bank Manager..."[the guys murmur their agreement]
NEIL: Don't you think that's a bit strong?[he snatches the note from Neil, crumples it up, and tosses it to Vyv]
[Vyv obeys. The fire burns brightly for a moment and the guys crowd around it as it dies back down.]
VYVYAN: Ga, where's my supper, Neil?[he bonks Rick on the head with a fire iron. Rick falls supine and Mike and Vyv use him as a couch.]
[inserted here are ***a few frames of a downhill skier in a yellow ski suit***]
VYVYAN: It's snow, isn't it, Neil.[dramatic music, thunderclap, and brief CUT to groovy God in enormous sunglasses with two angels standing by.]
GOD: Don't blame me, I didn't cook it! Alright?[Neil and Vyv wave their arms in the air, shouting "House meeting! House meeting!"]
MIKE: Vyv, wake up Rick.[Vyv smashes a plate over Rick's head, and Rick rouses gradually. Meanwhile, the one of the GHOST bodies dances into the house with a boom box on its shoulder. The other GHOST body trails along with a head in each arm. The heads are arguing heatedly.]
VYVYAN: [to Rick] Wake up, for heaven's sake, we're trying to have a house meeting...[the focus of the scene shifts back to the guys]
RICK: [screaming at Neil] I AM NOT GETTING AGGRESSIVE! [a newspaper comes shooting through the mail slot]
Vyvyan...[Mike points to the paper and Vyv fetches it.]
I'm sorry about that bang, I just fired a gun.[Vyv turns through several blank pages]
NEIL: There doesn't seem to be much choice, is there?[Vyv turns to a lone ad for the Army. It says: "JOIN THE PROFESHIONELS, IT'S GREAT! YOU CAN HAVE A GUN IF YOU WANT! AND THERE'S MONEY IN IT (NOT THE GUN). H.M. ARMED FORCES"]
RICK: Alright, what's this..."Join the profeshionels..."[the guys start to panic]
NEIL: Quick, quick, Mike, Mike! Get some boiling towels...Uh, Rick,
clean water...Vyvyan, sit down, take the weight off your feet![a close up on Vyvyan is edged out of the frame by a shot of a MANIAC
laughing demonically. The Maniac speaks to the camera.]