Dreams 9/95 Scene 1. Beanbags scattered about the flat. A complex family tree on wall next to TV set ("The screen") Marie is wearing what would be a very revealing miniskirt and top, were it not for the fact that she has a full trousersuit on underneath. David is in schoolboy shorts and a T-Shirt one size too small. Marie is lying with her head on David's lap on the sofa, and he is rummaging through her hair in what seems an intimate way. The screen gently pulses soft colours. David : Finished They swap positions, and Marie begins to fondle David's hair Marie : Found one! She pulls what looks like a bunch of hair from D's head, but keeps pulling, removing what seems like three feet of hair. She throws it on the floor, and it starts to wriggle away. D jumps up and stamps on it. M : You didn't have to do that. D : You didn't have it inside your head, feeding on your memories. M : Did it get anything? D : The years from three to six seem more hazy than before. Jay enters J : Don't think of it as losing your mind, think of it as gaining your insanity. A window in the front door is smashed, and three letters are thrown through, which land on the "Go away" mat. D shouting at postman : Hope Jess dies, you miserable bastard. J collects letters, and hands one to D and M. They open and read their letters simultaneously. All register a reaction of surprise and confusion. Another window in the door is smashed and a hand reaches through to open the lock. The Cleaner enters cautiously carrying a suspicious looking sack. The screen flashes "burger! burger!", and a picture of a big mac spins round. Cleaner, seeing the occupants, to audience : Damn! I thought they were out! Takes duster from bag and begins to dust screen innocently, obscuring the message. D : What's in your letter? M : It's from my long lost cousin. M moves over to look at the family tree. Cleaner, interested, moves over to peer over her shoulder. Marie is indicated on the diagram by an arrow and "You are here". She traces a long and complex route, up, down and around the tree before pointing at a name at the same level as hers. "Arsenio Nekked, Long-lost cousin, 1999-" C : Has it been in the family long? M : About sixteen years. C : And do you know how it came into the family? M : That's a very personal question. C : OK. How much did you pay for it? M : It came free, I think. C : Goodness. Is it insured? M : I think it's covered by the family and contents. C : Well, I would certainly insure for [whispers figure in M's ear], if only for flood, and third-party damage. M : Goodness! And we never though it was worth anything. D : You should never underestimate the value of a loving family. A sharp knock at the door causes another of the panes to crack, before the door swings open of its own accord. You, disguised as himself, stands in the doorway. J approaches : Hello? Y : Mr. Jay Scrumpy? J confused : No you aren't - I am! Y : Er yes. I'm from the BBC, you should have received our letter about "Jim'll fix it". J : Yes, I've got it here. You work quickly. Y : We don't hang about in the all go BBC. May I come in? J : Of course. D interceding : Wait a moment. Can I see some proof of identity first? Y : This do? [Shows "Jim fixed it for me" badge from around his neck] D steps aside, embarrassed. Screen is displaying an ancient musical instrument captioned "Lyre! Lyre!". As ever, all ignore it, even C who is dusting it. J : I'm calling in reference to a letter that we received. I quote : [a child's voice] "Dear Jim, please could you fix it for me to fly like a bird because I would like to really impress my friends, yours sincerely [You's voice : 'sincerely misspelt'], Jay Scrumpy, né Scrumpy" Now what do you say to that? J : It seems such a long time since I wrote that... Y : That's the Postal Service for you. But you have some explaining to do! J : I don't understand [Child's voice : ..like to really impress my friends] Y repeating : To really impress - Split infinitive you idiot! Now what do you have to say for yourself? J shyly : Well, I was only six... Y tiring : Never mind, obviously grammar is of no concern to a pleb like yourself. Well, much against my wishes, it has been decided that Jim will fix it for you to fly. Now, if you'd just like to come with me [leading J off] M : My, this is exciting! A long-lost cousin for me, a childhood wish come true for Jay. What was your letter about? D : What about [indicates cleaner] ? C : Oh don't mind me, deary [at the same time, without any pretence, C picks up a bowl of fruit and drops the contents into her swag bag, then pauses, shrugs, and drops the bowl in too. Throughout the scene, C pilfers small items, all apparently valueless] D : What are you doing with that? C : What? Oh this? [removes and indicates fruit bowl] Er.. it needs to be dry-cleaned? [to audience] It doesn't really, but when you are a cleaning lady come petty thief, you need to be able to quickly and convincingly make up lies... Y off : To make up lies quickly and convincingly! C : To make up lies quickly and convincingly. [To Y] Pedant! Y : Peasant! D resuming as if frozen from "dry-cleaned" : Oh, all right then. M : Your letter. D : Oh yes [still watching as C bags a table lamp, stapler, catapult, whilst smiling back at D. D looks unnecessarily at his letter] It's from the University of Lunn - they're offering me an honorary doctorate. M : As what? Doctor of tossing around the flat all day? Doctor of eating, sleeping and contributing nothing to his own upkeep? D ignoring the insults : No, as a Doctor of Modesty, actually. M : You? Modest? Ha! D : You know, I've always wanted to be a doctor. Just so when someone's dying, and they shout "Is there a doctor in the house?" I can stand up and say "Yes! Here I am." So when I'm at a party and people ask me my name I can say "Doctor Hummdy-Humm" so they will say "Doctor Who?" [Snatch of the doctor who theme and tardis spinning on screen] [Eulogising now] To be a doctor, to live wild and free, settling in a small western town, where everyone in the saloon will call me "Doc". "Who's that wizened old fart in the corner" newcomers will say. "Him? Oh, that's just the old drunk, Doc". Oh yes, those three little letters Ph.D appended to my name; junk mail arriving addressed to Dr Dyffd Stupid; I can park where I like, and just leave a note saying "Doctor on call". Medical firms will send me free samples of their drugs, and those strange pumpy-things to take people's blood pressure with! Nurses will swoon as they say "What should we do, Doctor Dave?"... [throughout this impassioned monologue, the screen has been showing appropriate images mixed together, from "Doctor Who", "High Noon at the OK Chorale", "Dr. Kildare" etc.] M : Oh, shut up. D : Sorry, but it's always been a dream of mine to be a Doctor. To hold the lives of others in my hands. To be worshipped as a god among men... [trailing off] M : It's strange that. You have always wanted to be a doctor, and Jay has always wanted to fly, and I ... I've always dreamed of finding about my family, my true family. Ever since that day when [starts to flashback then can't be bothered] ... when they found me abandoned on the steps of the monastery, wrapped only in that complete family tree dating back to the fourteenth century, I have hoped, no, wished that there could be some way of tracing my relations. Now perhaps this mysterious long-lost cousin will be able to help. [meaningful pause] But isn't it odd that our dreams all seem to be coming true? C To audience : I have a dream. [begins Martin Luther-King's famous speech] No, that's not it. But everyone needs to dream. To dream the impossible dream [Into "The impossible dream"] Oh, sod it. What do I know? I'm just a pensionable little criminal with a side line in breaking, entering and cleaning. But once, when I was but a mere slip of a lad, I dreamt of being something special. Of escaping from my dismal life and becoming .. a professional Salman Rushdie impersonator. But it wasn't to be. Couldn't afford the plastic surgery. Oh well.. Scene 2. Outside. A baron waist land. You, accompanied by small elfling holding a cardboard tampax box with "CamRA" [The campaign for real ale] written on the side, is teaching J to fly. J is eating chips, with a bottle of vinegar in his other hand. Y camp : Come on love, I want you to put your all into this one. J : But I can't fly. I was only six, and I meant in an aeroplane. Y evil : I don't care, you should mean what you say. Look, flying is easy [indicates elfling] Elfling is obviously "put on", using Chromakey screen overlay to give a very fake flying effect. J : That's not flying, it's.. it's.. Chromakey! [prods elfling with a chip to show he is not actually in the same plane as J and Y] Y knocks chips from J's hand. Slow motion of vinegar bottle falling to the ground and smashing. Y : Look, I'll make this easy for you. [Leads J to cliff edge]. You just jump off this cliff, and if you haven't learned to fly by the time you reach the bottom, I'll refund your money. J : That seems jolly reasonable... hang on, I didn't give you any money. Y pushes J off. Scene 3. Back in the flat. M and D are slouched casually on the beanbags, surrounded by several fidgeting small children. D looks unhappy. M : What's the matter? D : I refused to accept my doctorate. M : But why? I thought you wanted it so much? D : I did. I tried to be clever you see. I thought that since the doctorate was for modesty, I ought to try to be modest to show that I deserved it, so I would pretend to refuse to accept it. But they accepted my refusal, and they say they've awarded the doctorate to someone less deserving. M : Oh poor dear [cradles D's head maternally, then spots and pulls out another hair creature. It escapes, to be grabbed by C who swallows it whole] C : Mmm. It doesn't matter, of course. There was no University of Lunn, it was all a cunning plot. If David had accepted the Doctorate, they would have cancelled it on the very grounds that he gave for refusing it. There are evil forces at work here... but more of that later. M kisses D's forehead. The children make fake vomitty noises and signs. A strange rumbling noise, and the door (missing several sheets of glass, and already somewhat shaken) wobbles and cracks, before suddenly crashing forward revealing a cloud of smoke, from which is revealed Arsenio. Arsenio : Hi. I'm looking for my long lost cousin. M : Are you Arsenio? A : Yeah. D : Do you know how much doors cost? A : Nah. D : Shame that, I was hoping you would. M runs towards A and grabs him, swinging him round violently so that his legs fly off the ground. One foot catches a child in the ear, a painful blow, which causes it to start bleeding. A muffled : Let me go, you mad bitch! M does, and A lands painfully on some bean bags and children. M : Oh, I'm just so glad to see you! I.. I.. I don't know where to start, what to say. A winded : Tell you what, you forget about the door, and I won't sue you for assault. M : OK! Ruffled Y enters, followed by shamefaced and hay covered J. Y takes up position on the central armchair. Y : Get over here, kids! The children huddle in the corner, fearful of the obviously pissed-off Y. Y reaches into pocket, and waves a mysterious metallic triangle at them. As if against their will, the children congregate around the chair. Y : Kids will do anything for a slice of Dairylea. M to J : What happened to you? J : It's kind of complicated. This nice man [indicates Y. Y pulls fake grin with malice] was teaching me to fly by pushing me off a five hundred cliff, when a freak gust of wind blew me off course into the path of a flock of migrating swans. They carried me south along with them until the one I was riding on was sucked into the jet engine of a passing Boeing. Miraculously I was able to cling on to the door of the aircraft until one of the cabin staff opened it to let a little air in, and so I fell towards the ground, my fall being broken by my friend here [indicates Y again], as I bounced off him and into the only haystack within a three hundred mile radius. D : The odds against that happening must be enormous. J : 13,983,816 to one against. Roughly. M : That's about the same odds as winning the lottery. J : Hmm. Maybe I'll be in luck this week then. [reaches into pocket and gets out lottery ticket.] Lights dim. Across the bottom of the screen, the following numbers appear with appropriate chords : 13 9 8 38 1 6 Bonus Ball : 49 J : Oh isn't that always the way? You get the first six right, but you never have the last one. [Tears up ticket in disgust. Children also toss aside their lottery tickets and storm out] Y : Silence fools! [All stare at Y] I mean, quiet on set, please. Now it's time to see what's in Jim's magic chair for you lucky people. [Fiddles with chair. From assorted orifices he pulls out and discards a half eaten-apple, a large cigar, TV-remote control, and finally a pistol which like the rest is discarded. Quietly : ] Oh bugger. Er - could you just pass me back that last one? A pointing gun at Y : Not so fast, asshole. Something here smells rotten, and it isn't me. Y : And I would have got away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids. J realising : You're not from the BBC at all, are you? Y : If only you hadn't been so damned lucky. [To D] If only you had accepted that booby-trapped doctorate. [To M] If only you didn't really have a gun-toting long-lost cousin... M : You mean all those letters were from you? But why? Y removes his latex face to reveal exactly the same face underneath. All gasp All : YOU! Y : That's doctor You, Ph.D in modesty if you don't mind. D lunging : You bastard! Fin