[NOTE: Please send corrections to Steve Rapport. Thanks.]

SICK - Part Two

[OPENING SCENE: The four boys are in their respective beds. They let out with a chorus of groans, in tune to the "Twist and Shout" background music. All of their tongues are a dark green color.]

[takes a swig from a bottle of vodka, blows his nose on his blanket]

NEIL: You're ill?! I'm the one who's ill. Listen! [coughs pathetically] Nobody feels worse than me. And your shouting's not helping at all, Rick!

RICK: Oh, stop whining, Neil! God, you're practically brain-dead as it is! I don't see how a pathetic little cold's going to make much difference! You're probably not even ill anyway. You're probably just lying to try and impress us!

NEIL: Oh, yeah?! Well, how come I'm all hot and sweaty then?

RICK: Well, I think most of us would rather not go into that!

VYVYAN: Will you two shut up? I'm trying to be ill! [looks through a pile of used tissues] Oh, God! There's nothing left to wipe my nose on. Even SPG's all covered in snot.

[Vyvyan's hamster is a revolting shade of green]

[Vyvyan rips off the sleeve of his pajamas, blows his nose]

RICK: Stop shouting, Neil!

NEIL: Stop shouting yourself!

RICK: I am not shouting!!

NEIL: Yes, you are!!

RICK: I bloody well am not!! If you want to hear shouting, matey, this is it!! [Starts screaming like a two-year old]

VYVYAN: [takes part of his sleeve, sticks it in the top of the vodka bottle] It's funny, but being ill makes me lose my usual tolerant and easy-going approach to communal living.

[lights the Molotov cocktail, throws it across the hall, where it explodes]

[The wall between Neil and Rick is mostly gone. Vyvyan walks in.]

NEIL: Yeah, thanks, Vyv. That petrol bomb's really cleared my sinuses.

VYVYAN: Why aren't you dead?

RICK: I'm not prepared to discuss it with you, Vyvyan. You will be hearing from my solicitors in the morning. I'm going to write to my MP.

[takes out paper and pencil]

RICK: Oh. Well, then I shall write to the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen!

[Mike comes in, carrying a fish]

VYVYAN: It's a fish, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, thanks. [leaves]

RICK: [writing] Dear Mr. Echo....

VYVYAN: Why'd I do that?

RICK: Ah, Vyvyan, beginning to regret it now, are you?

VYVYAN: Of course I'm beginning to regret it. That was nearly a full bottle of vodka! That's £7.99 you owe me, ploppy pants.

RICK: Oh, stop being so blinking bourgousie! All property is theft, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: All right, then. Where's your girlie purse?

MIKE: [knocks, comes back in with the fish] All right, I didn't finish my sentence. I meant to say, what's this fish doing in my bed?

VYVYAN: It's not in your bed, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Vyv. [leaves]

VYVYAN: [takes Rick's coin purse, removes some money] Ha ha! Found it!

RICK: You put that back! That's my personal property!

NEIL: You just said all property is theft, Rick.

RICK: Well, yes, it is.

VYVYAN: Yeah, so I'm nicking it.

RICK: Stop! Thief! Thief!

NEIL: Thieves rush in where angels fear to tread.

RICK: No, it's fools, Neil. Fools.

NEIL: Thieves rush in where fools fear to tread.

RICK: Yeah! Andy Williams said that!

VYVYAN: Alexander Pope!

RICK: Oh, well, you're a little snob, aren't you, Vyvyan?

VYVYAN: Wimp! Pervert! Knob-end!

RICK: Oh, Vyvyan, what repartee! Sticks and stones my break my bones!

VYVYAN: That's the first sensible thing you've said all day.

[picks up a loose board, crushes Rick over the head with it]

RICK, VYVYAN, NEIL: [together] What fish?

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Sorry. [leaves]

[Vyvyan hits Rick with the board again. Neil sneezes violently]

NEIL: I can't stop.

[Sneezes, and snot hits Rick in the head. Sneezes again, and a huge stream of snot shatters a vase]

[Vyvyan runs out and comes back with his pillowcase. He puts it over Neil's head. Neil sneezes and it flies off.]

[They crash Neil's head through the window. He sneezes and the snot hits a bald man working on his car, right in the head. The guy throws a brick back, but he is aiming at the wrong window. Another brick hits a woman standing in the window. The car man chuckles and walks over by the bus stop on the corner. The woman throws a lamp at him, but hits another man waiting at the bus.]

BRICK THROWER: Yeah! Good shot, wasn't it? [The Bus Man punches the Brick Thrower in the head, and they start to fight. A car drives down the street, crashing into the Brick Thrower's car. More fighting breaks out.]

[Rick is taping a green plastic bag over Neil's torso]

VYVYAN: Very probably, Michael. But we've got to keep the bogeys off the wall. [leaves]

NEIL: [sneezes] Oh, wow! It's really horrible in here. Why did you have to use Rick's laundry bag?

RICK: Oh, well, there's gratitude for you! It's me who's going to have snotty undies for the next two terms, Neil. It's me they're going to be calling "Bogey Bum". Especially at the next Friends of Stalin Society "Show Your Bottom" competition.

VYVYAN: [comes back with a duffle bag] I'm afraid I couldn't find any needles, so we'll have to use 6-inch nails.

RICK: Vyvyan, you can't do acupuncture with 6-inch nails.

NEIL: Well, you better think of something quickly, cause this bag's getting really full. [sneezes]

MIKE: I'm going to the chemist.

NEIL: Oh, great. To get some medicine for our colds?

MIKE: No, I fancy the girl who works there.

NEIL: Oh, Mike, in that case, do you think that you could get something while you're there to clean the toilet with?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together, shocked] What?!

MIKE: [pause] I don't think I can, Neil. [leaves]

VYVYAN: You can't clean the toilet, Neil. It'll lose all its character.

RICK: We never clean the toilet, Neil. That's what being a student is all about! No way, Harpic! No way, Dot! All that Blue Loo scene is for squares. One thing's for sure, Neil. When Cliff Richard wrote "Wired for Sound", no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory. He was living on the limit, just like me. Where the only place to put bleach is in your hair!

VYVYAN: Living on Limits? What, are you on a diet?

RICK: No, I live on The Limit, Vyvyan. The Limit. Because I'm a Rider at the Gates of Dawn and I take no prisoners.

[Vyvyan throws a brick at Rick, hitting him in the forehead]

[puts a plunger in the toilet, the plunger being eaten by the lavatory, the rim of the bowl acting as a mouth]

Hey! That's cannibalism. I'd better get some Domestos. [leaves]

[Vyvyan is beating on Rick, who is still prone from the aforementioned brick.]

VYVYAN: No, Neil, no. It's Madness this week.

[Mike walks out the front door into the street, past Madness, who are playing "Our House" with cheap fake instruments. Fighting is going on everywhere in the street.]

[Neil is sitting on his bed. Vyvyan is standing over him, while Rick is on his bed, reading a newspaper]

NEIL: So what's new?

VYVYAN: OK, here it goes.

[hammers a nail into the top of Neil's nead]

[Mike is talking to the girl behind the drugstore counter]

[Vyvyan is hitting Rick in the head with a hammer]

[walks off, still in his pajamas and robe]

[The band finishes the song and starts smashing their instruments, the sax over the TV camera, then joining in the fighting. An ambulance pulls up, along with an Army truck and police van. In the back of the police van is a policeman with Brian Damage, a dangerous criminal in black hat and jacket]

POLICEMAN: Go on, run 'em down!

VAN DRIVER: I can't do that!

POLICEMAN: Why not? You're a policeman, aren't you?!

DAMAGE: They were a great band, weren't they? Middle Of The Road, "ooh, ee, chirpy chirpy cheap cheap"?

POLICEMAN: Shut your mouth, Damage!

DAMAGE: 'Ere, 'Mr. Damage' to you, copper. And nobody tells Mr. Damage to shut his mouth. Not if they wanna keep the head in the vicinity of the shoulders. [opens his mouth very wide] All right?

POLICEMAN: Listen. Shut your mouth, Damage! [Damage attacks him]

[Neil is wandering around the living room, sneezing constantly. The bag is still over his head, and there's about 8 nails sticking out of his body. Rick and Vyvyan are in the kitchen, watching him.]

VYVYAN: [holds up a large knife] I think he'll get a shock when he feels this. We've run out of nails, so we'll have to start using the cutlery.

RICK: No! Vyvyan, be sensible. I've got to eat off that.

VYVYAN: I suppose you're right.

[puts down the knife, pauses, and throws himself on the ground, screaming]

[Neil starts sneezing again. Vyvyan stands]

RICK: [scared to death, trying to compose himself] I'm not surprised, Vyvyan. That was pathetic. You must do something more subtle.

VYVYAN: Neil, if you don't stop sneezing by the time I count three, I'mgoing to cut your bottoms off and ram them up your nose. One...

[Neil sneezes]

[Neil sneezes]

[Rick bends Neil over the sofa as Vyvyan gets the knife again]

[Mike walks in, makes a phone call]

VYVYAN: 2.999 recurring.....

RICK: Do it!

[There are two shots, and Damage runs into the room, carrying a large shotgun. He throws Mike into the living room. Rick, Mike and Vyvyan put their hands up. Neil stays bent over, facing the couch. Damage runs into the kitchen.]

RICK: Goodness, how exciting! Are you an anarchist?

DAMAGE: No, I am not. I am Brian Damage Balowski. I am, however, a violent and highly dangerous escaped criminal madman!

RICK: What would you like us to do?

DAMAGE: Right. Everybody us against this wall, NOW!!

[The boys don't move]

DAMAGE: Eh?

RICK: Oh, God. What happens if anybody moves?!

DAMAGE: What happens?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together] Yes!

DAMAGE: All right. Terribly sorry, terribly sorry. If anybody moves, I'll show you what happens, right.

[Takes bag off of Neil's head with a disgusting "slurp". Neil is covered with green slime.]

NEIL: Hi there. Are you the doctor?

[Damage head butts him. Neil falls backward into a nail, staggers, holding his butt in pain.]

DAMAGE: Thanks, Doc?! Are you being sar-carstic or something, my son? That's one of my least favorite things, that happens to be. Sar-carsm.

SPG: [watching everything from his seat on top of the fridge] Really. Hah-huh.How incredibly interesting. [sighs]

DAMAGE: I was walking a dog, and this bloke, he comes to me and says, "Nice day, innit?" But it wasn't. It wasn't a nice day. It was a little bit cloudy. Which makes him very sar-carstic. So acting as if nothing would happen, I took his head, right, put it in me mouth, right, acting dead casual-like, clamped me teeth, and BIT HIS HEAD OFF!! Cause I hate people being sar-carstic.

NEIL: I wasn't, you know, being sar-castic.

DAMAGE: Weren't ya? Well, forget everything I just said then, all right?

VYVYAN: What? Everything from when you first came in?

DAMAGE: Now, if you don't get up against that wall by the time I count three, I'm gonna blow your heads off one by one, all right?! Ah-one. Ah-two...

[A lady runs in. She is wearing a leopard skirt and cheap fur coat. Her hair is dyed a shade of pink. She's pushing a shopping cart full of junk.]

DAMAGE: Oh, God!!

VYVYAN'S MUM: Sorry I didn't knock, but some joker's impaled a head on the front door. Hello, Vyvyan. [pinches Vyvyan's cheek]

VYVYAN: Piss off.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's no way to talk to your mother, Vyvyan!

VYVYAN: All right, then. Piss off, mum.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's better.

VYVYAN: What do you want?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Well, what're moms for?

VYVYAN: I dunno. Having babies?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Don't be so sexist, Vyvyan.

[squeezes him hard in the crotch]

VYVYAN'S MUM: No. I heard you was ill, so I brought you a present.

VYVYAN: The last present you gave me was a box of matches.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That was a joke!

VYVYAN: I was only eight weeks old.

DAMAGE: Here, excuse me, excuse me. But I'm not actually known for my patience.

RICK: Oh. Oh. Well, you're probably not Dr. Kildare then!

[Damage hits Rick with the butt of his shotgun and flattens him]

VYVYAN'S MUM: [removes a bottle from the cart] A bottle of vodka.

VYVYAN: Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Mum. [takes the bottle, removes the cap, tips it over] This is empty.

VYVYAN'S MUM: [flips him the two-fingered salute] Ha ha! Up yours, ugly!

[Runs out]

VYVYAN: Oh, very handy!

DAMAGE: Otherwise, I'm gonna blow your heads off, all right? Now, everybody up against that wall, now!!

[Pushes the four boys against the wall by the front door. The ceiling collapses in front of the door as they hit the wall.]

MIKE: I think I'm quite responsible, actually.

NEIL: Yeah, Mike is, yeah.

RICK: Listen, listen! Somebody has got to clean all this muck up, and I can tell you one thing, matey boy, it's not going to be me.

VYVYAN: What does a bit of mess matter? We're all going to be dead in twenty minutes anyway.

DAMAGE: Yeah. [Cocks gun, aims at them]

NEIL: [panics] Oh, no! Oh, wow! Oh, heavy heavy heavy!! Oooooohhh

MIKE: What're you upset for? You've always wanted to die.

NEIL: Who's talking about dying? I just remembered! My parents are coming round to tea!! [Rick and Vyvyan start screaming]

MIKE: Don't panic. Don't panic! Worse things happen at sea.

RICK: Like what, Mike? Like what?!

MIKE: Well, like, you could be on a nice cruise in the South China Sea, having a lovely time. There's terrible weather, a big storm, and the ship sinks. You fall overboard, you're drowning! This big shark swims up to you and says, "By the way, Neil's parents are coming to tea in 30 seconds." That's when you panic. Come on!

[Everybody runs around, cleaning up in super-speed motion. Damage polishes his rifle. Vyvyan throws some dirty dishes out the window. Mike hides the rubble from the collapsed ceiling under a rug in the hall. Rick and Vyvyan dump the garbage from the table into the sink, and Rick sits on it to pack it down. Neil replaces a "Smash the State" poster with one that reads "Keep London Tidy". Mike dusts the filth off the couch. Vyvyan removes the head of Damage's policeman friend off the front door. He takes it into a back room, where three old witches are stirring a big black kettle.]

VYVYAN: Eh?

WITCH #2: All hail McVyvyan, Thane of the Outside Toilet, and that little gravelly patch next to the garden shed.

WITCH #3: All hail McVyvyan, that shall be king of the whole house here after!

VYVYAN: Are you suggesting that I murder Mike, Rick, and Neil, in order to have the whole house to myself?

WITCH #3: Yes!

VYVYAN: It's a thought, I suppose. Make a great play!

[drops the head into the pot, leaves]

[Mike is relaxing on the sofa, Rick is sweeping up, and Neil is just panicking]

[A knock at the door. Neil answers it. His parents are well-dressed and well-groomed, in their late 50s. They look extremely out of place among all the fighting and the shabby house. Neil shows them in]

NEIL'S MUM: Hello.

[kisses him as if she doesn't want to touch him]

[Neil takes his coat, puts it in the hall closet]

[They walk into the living room. Rick is at the kitchen table among a stack of books. Damage is sitting quietly in the corner]

RICK: Oh, hello! [runs over] Pleased to meet you! Sorry, so many essays to write! [laughs, snorts] I'm surprised my arms aren't falling off! Perhaps they are, look out, bonk! [flails his arms wildly] You'll have to watch out for me because I'm a bit nutty. Aren't I, everybody?! A bit nutty?

[sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry]

SICK - Part Two