SCENE 7 [CONT.]
MILO:
But this time YOU have to explain the body to the police in the morning.
FAITH:
Deal.
MILO TURNS OUT HIS BEDSIDE LIGHT AND SETTLES DOWN.
SCENE 8. INT. THE WRITERS ROOM – DAY 2 [MORNING]
LAURA AND NAT ARE SEATED AT THE TABLE, LAURA’S HEAD RESTING ON HER SCRIPT ONCE AGAIN, NAT IDLY FIDDLING WITH A PEN.
MILO ENTERS AND LOOKS AROUND AS HE TAKES OFF HIS COAT.
MILO:
Dobbsy not here yet?
NAT:
One moment...
HE LOOKS UNDER THE TABLE.
No.
MILO:
Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Nat.
NAT:
No, I think you'll find that's TV comedy writers. At least Oscar Wilde came up with his own formats.
MILO:
Blimey, you're not still on about that, are you?
NAT:
I have nothing to declare but my plagiarism. I looked up Mary Tyler Moore on the internet.
MILO:
And..? Don’t tell me – she’s got a dog.
NAT:
She was an independent woman with an ensemble cast of supporting characters.
MILO:
So..?
NAT:
So we didn’t invent the workplace family.
MILO:
Of course not. Now do as your father says and wake up your sister. She'll get 'Annie's People' in mirror writing across her forehead again.
NAT STARTS TO PULL UP LAURA'S HEAD BY HER HAIR. SHE SWIPES AT HIM, THEN RUBS HER FOREHEAD AND EXAMINES HER FINGER.
LAURA:
That's deliberate. I'm experimenting with new forms of advertising. My worry lines could sell the show to a whole new audience.
NAT:
In mirror writing? Which particular market are you aiming for there?
LAURA:
Cabbies.
MILO:
This is the BBC. Advertising is a dirty word.
NAT:
Like vulva.
MILO:
That’s a car.
LAURA:
You’re thinking of the Vauxhall Labia.
NAT:
And besides, cabbies are outside of our target demographic. We're meant to be appealing to knowledgeable young professionals with a broad spectrum of interests and above-average intelligence.
MILO:
Like Fred Housego.
LAURA & NAT
(TOGETHER) Who?
MILO SIGHS.
MILO:
Where’s Dobbsy when you need him…
NAT LOOKS UNDER THE TABLE.
NAT:
I don’t know.
MILO:
Well keep looking, I need to have a word with the fat controller.
MILO WALKS OVER TO CY’S OFFICE, KNOCKS, AND IMMEDIATELY OPENS THE DOOR.
SCENE 9. INT. CY’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS
MILO ENTERS. CY LOOKS UP FROM HIS DESK.
CY:
Shouldn’t you wait for me to say ‘come’?
MILO:
That doesn’t work for my wife, and it won’t work for you.
CY:
Oh. Same old problem, eh?
MILO SITS DOWN.
MILO:
It might help if I didn’t have the Peckham Funkmeister hanging out with his bitches next door. Those walls are paper thin.
CY:
I know. What was it you called me again?
MILO:
A lank haired in-breed.
CY:
Ridiculous. My hair’s not lank, it’s full-bodied.
CY RUNS HIS FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR.
But you know what it's like when you're trying to impress a lady. She's black. The tribal rhythms are practically coursing through her veins.
MILO:
Well all the same, if you could lay off the speed garage after eleven, I'd be grateful.
CY:
I don't have a garage. I could probably get hold of some speed though. I'll have a word with Laura.
MILO:
It’s Dobbsy I’m worried about.
CY:
Oh yeah. What news on the firing squad?
MILO:
It’s happening today. My mind’s made up.
CY:
Blindfolded and up against the wall?
MILO:
I was thinking more of a cup of tea and a quiet word. But the effect is much the same.
CY:
You’re poisoning his Ty-phoo?
MILO:
Something like that.
HE STANDS.
Well I’d better get on with it. And seriously, mate, no more late night raves, please. It’s putting a strain on my marriage.
CY:
Anything you say. Can't have you losing your Faith.
MILO:
With lines like that, you should be on the writing team.
CY:
Nah. One has to know one's place. And mine is in here with a comfy chair and a bottle of gin.
MILO:
You’re probably right. Age isn’t on your side either. Another couple of years and you’ll be forty nine like Dobbsy.
CY:
At least I’ll have a job.
MILO REACTS.
Sorry, low blow.
MILO:
I’m doing the right thing. For the team. You know I am.
CY:
Of course you are. And you never know, the ethnic boy could turn out to be a comic genius. Ever think of that?
MILO:
Funnily enough, no.
CY:
Well he’s only here till the end of the week. He can make the tea.
MILO:
The poisoning’s my job. Unless you’ve grown some balls overnight.
CY:
I believe they’re still in the hands of Addy’s mother.
MILO:
I’ll get on with it then.
CY:
Good man.
MILO TAKES A STEP TOWARDS THE DOOR.
Oh, and Milo?
MILO:
Yeah?
CY:
Two sugars in mine.
SCENE 10. INT. WRITERS ROOM – CONTINUOUS
MILO EMERGES FROM CY’S OFFICE. STILL NO SIGN OF DOBBSY.
MILO:
Look guys, I feel it's only fair to warn you, there are going to be some changes around here.
NAT:
Changes? What sort of changes?
MILO:
It's the Debenham's clearance sale. Everything must go.
LAURA:
Everything?
MILO:
Well, Dobbsy.
NAT:
What? You're getting rid of Dobbsy?
MILO:
Don't act so surprised, we could all see it coming.
LAURA:
You can't. You can't get rid of Dobbsy, he's old.
MILO:
He’s forty nine.
LAURA:
Exactly.
NAT:
It's the black kid, isn't it. That's quotas for you. You can't get a job around here unless you turn up in an Afro and park your wheelchair at the door.
MILO:
It has nothing to do with quotas. Dobbsy is bad for morale. He's outlived his usefulness. He's a Betamax video in a world of DVDs. And yesterday, you both agreed with me.
NAT:
Twenty four hours is a long time in comedy.
MILO:
Well Dobbsy's had twenty four years. More than that. TWICE that. And it's time for him to go. You know it is.
THEY SIT IN SILENCE FOR A MOMENT. LAURA LOOKS AGITATED.
LAURA:
Milo, can I have a word please?
SHE LOOKS AT NAT.
In private?
NAT:
Oh don’t mind me, I just work here.
MILO:
(TO NAT) I wouldn’t mind a bit more evidence of that.
LAURA:
(STILL AGITATED) I’m serious. Milo?
MILO SIGHS.
MILO:
(IMPATIENTLY) Come on then…
HE WALKS TOWARDS HIS OFFICE. LAURA FOLLOWS.
SCENE 11. INT. MILO’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS
MILO ENTERS, CLOSELY FOLLOWED BY LAURA.
MILO:
Right, what is it Laura?
LAURA LOOKS AT THE OPEN DOORWAY.
LAURA:
It’s not very private.
MILO WALKS BACK OVER TO THE DOORWAY.
MILO:
(CALLING) Nat, put two fingers in your ears.
HE GETS AN UNSEEN RESPONSE.
I said in your ears, not in the air.
HE TURNS BACK TO LAURA.
This is the best you're gonna get. Now hurry up, I don't have all day.
THEY SIT DOWN.
LAURA:
Well…
MILO:
Yes..?
LAURA:
It’s about Dobbsy…
MILO:
Yes..?
LAURA:
Well...
MILO:
Is there any chance of this conversation picking up, only I finish work at five?
LAURA:
Well...
MILO ROLLS HIS EYES.
… you know my... um... bi-polar disorder?
MILO:
For the sake of both our sanities, let's presume I'm foolish enough to say 'yes'.
LAURA:
Well... Dobbsy's been helping me self-medicate.
MILO:
What?
LAURA:
He's been supplying me with the drugs I need to manage my condition.
MILO:
Ok, ok, back up a moment. Let's cut the crap. You've been doing coke, right? For which you've been warned more times than I care to remember - let's not forget that. And what? Now you're telling me Dobbsy's involved?
LAURA:
He can get it cheap.
MILO:
Stop pissing me about, Laura.
LAURA:
It’s the truth, I swear.
MILO:
No, I'M the one who's going to start swearing in a minute.
LAURA:
I'm not pissing you about, Milo, really. Dobbsy's my dealer. He's been in telly forty years. He's got contacts.
MILO SITS BACK IN DISBELIEF.
MILO:
(INCREDULOUSLY) He said all he needed was a cup of tea and a Penguin…?
LAURA:
Well... penguins can't live without snow.
MILO:
What?
LAURA:
And he didn't say cup. He said... (WITH GREAT SIGNIFICANCE)… pot.
MILO:
He was talking about a teapot and a chocolate biscuit.
LAURA:
That's your interpretation. All I'm saying is the signs were there.
MILO:
That Dobbsy’s a pusher?
LAURA:
It's true. He can get hold of anything. Oh, and I wouldn't touch his pan drops if I were you.
MILO:
I'm not buying this, Laura.
LAURA:
You don't have to. But I do. (PAUSE) Milo, you can't sack Dobbsy. Please.
THEY ARE INTERRUPTED BY VOICES COMING FROM THE WRITERS ROOM.
SCENE 12. INT. WRITERS ROOM – CONTINUOUS
DOBBSY AND ADDY HAVE ARRIVED. MILO AND LAURA EMERGE FROM MILO’S OFFICE.
MILO:
You’re late, Dobbsy.
DOBBSY:
I was showing our young friend around Television Centre.
NAT:
Good, that should put him off.
DOBBSY:
My thoughts exactly.
ADDY:
Oh no, I really like it here, it's very nice.
LAURA:
Well he is from Peckham.
DOBBSY:
The BBC is a lot like a council estate.
NAT:
But with more theft.
LAURA:
And all the mugging’s on camera.
DOBBSY:
This place must be like a home from home for him.
ADDY:
Oh no, it’s quite different.
MILO:
In what way?
ADDY:
There’s less poverty in Peckham.
THE OTHERS STOP AND LOOK AT EACH OTHER.
MILO:
Laura, get him a pen. (TO ADDY) Sit down, sit down. Laura and Nat will show you what to do. (TO NAT) Nat, give him the bedroom scene. (TO ADDY) And if possible, try to mention a dog.
ADDY:
Yes, Mr Allders.
MILO:
Debenham.
ADDY:
Mr Debenham.
MILO:
Right, Dobbsy, I want a word with you.
DOBBSY:
Oh, can't I stay and join in the fun? I can slag off the BBC with the best of 'em.
MILO:
Later. We need to talk.
MILO HEADS INTO HIS OFFICE. RELUCTANTLY, DOBBSY FOLLOWS.
SCENE 13. INT. MILO’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS
MILO AND DOBBSY ENTER. THEY BOTH SIT.
MILO:
Right, I'll come straight to the point. (HE PAUSES) Would you like a cup of tea?
DOBBSY:
No thank you. And if that's all you called me in here for, I think I'll be going.
HE STARTS TO GET UP.
MILO:
Sit down, Dobbsy. Look, there's something I need to ask you. Now it's just possible I'm dreaming, or that Beadle's about to jump out from behind that cupboard, so if you could clear this up for me with a simple denial, I'd appreciate it. Straightforward question: have you, or have you not, been selling drugs to Laura?
DOBBSY:
Oh.
MILO:
'Oh'? What kind of a denial is that?
DOBBSY:
Well it's a complicated one, you see. The answer's yes... and no.
MILO:
(LOOKING AROUND) Ok Beadle, you can come out now.
DOBBSY:
Exactly what is the girl accusing me of?
MILO:
Oh you know, the usual. Being a drugs kingpin... running a major cartel out of Columbia…
DOBBSY:
And where would I get drugs from?
MILO:
She says you've got contacts.
DOBBSY:
I've worn nothing but glasses for the past twenty years.
MILO:
You're not helping, Dobbsy.
DOBBSY:
I assure you, Milo, the only coke I've ever handled is brown and fizzy.
MILO:
So she’s lying then?
DOBBSY PAUSES.
DOBBSY:
Not exactly.
MILO BURIES HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS IN FRUSTRATION.
MILO:
Just tell me what's been going on, before I lose the will to live.
DOBBSY:
I've been carrying out a little experiment in psychosomaticism.
MILO:
What?
DOBBSY:
The placebo effect. The ability, for example, of a recreational drug user to convince herself that the harmless substances sold to her by, let’s say, an older, more experienced colleague who claims he has contacts, are producing the usual high she's come to expect.
MILO:
You’ve been selling Laura placebos? Fake drugs?
DOBBSY:
It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. She keeps buzzing like a bee, stays clean and holds on to her job; I get a little extra income to supplement the pittance I receive here.
MILO:
So if it's not cocaine she's been taking, what is it?
DOBBSY:
The powder Laura’s been rubbing on her gums for the past six months is bicarbonate of soda.
MILO LOOKS TAKEN ABACK.
MILO:
I thought her teeth were looking whiter these days.
DOBBSY:
And she's stopped complaining about her indigestion too.
MILO:
Dobbsy, you're a miracle worker.
DOBBSY:
One does one's best. (PRODUCING A BAG OF SWEETS) Pan drop?
MILO:
Er… no thanks.
SCENE 14. INT. WRITERS ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
NAT AND ADDY ARE SEATED AT THE TABLE, PENS POISED. LAURA IS OVER IN THE CORNER, MAKING A CUP OF COFFEE.
NAT:
(TO ADDY) I’m not sure there’s much comic potential in the word ‘woof’. You need to think more outside the box.
ADDY:
Miaow?
NAT:
Better…
ADDY:
Cluck.
NAT:
Now we’re cooking with gas.
MILO AND DOBBSY EMERGE FROM MILO’S OFFICE. NAT LOOKS UP.
Milo, the bedroom scene’s become more of a farmyard scene. Any thoughts?
MILO:
None that could be broadcast before 9pm.
HE WALKS OVER TO ADDY AND NAT.
DOBBSY WALKS OVER TO LAURA.
LAURA:
(TO DOBBSY, IN A HUSHED VOICE) What happened?
DOBBSY:
Worked a treat. Here you go. A hundred we said?
LAURA:
Two.
DOBBSY:
I may be old, Laura, but I'm not stupid. (HE HANDS HER A HUNDRED POUNDS) And try to avoid the staff blood tests - you're supposed to be hooked on baking powder.
LAURA:
I've told you, I'm bi-polar.
DOBBSY:
Bi-polar, bi-carbonate. 'Whatever', as I believe you morons say.
MILO APPROACHES.
MILO:
Everything alright, chaps?
DOBBSY:
Fine, Milo.
MILO:
All happy and perky, Laura?
LAURA:
As a pig, Milo.
MILO:
Good good. (HE TURNS TO THE OTHERS AND CLAPS HIS HANDS) Ok mirthmakers, let's get down to business! I've a good feeling about today...
SCENE 15. INT. MILO’S BEDROOM – NIGHT [DAY 2]
MILO IS IN BED WITH FAITH. HE IS SITTING UP, TYPING ON A LAPTOP. FAITH IS LYING DOWN, LOOKING DISSATISFIED.
FAITH:
Come to bed, Milo.
MILO:
I am in bed.
FAITH:
You know what I mean. Turn that thing off, and turn ME on.
MILO:
In a minute.
FAITH SIGHS. MILO STOPS TYPING.
It's funny how situations can turn around in twenty four hours, isn't it.
FAITH:
Hilarious.
MILO:
I think things might work out after all.
THE HEAVY THUMP OF NEXT DOOR'S STEREO BEGINS. MILO BANGS ON THE WALL.
(SHOUTING) It's eleven o'clock, Cy.
THERE'S SOME MUFFLED SWEARING AND THE MUSIC STOPS.
(TO FAITH) Told you.
FAITH:
My hero. (SHE STROKES HIS LEG) Come to bed.
MILO KISSES HER ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD, THEN TURNS BACK TO HIS LAPTOP.
MILO:
(READING TO HIMSELF) 'A writer is like God. He creates everything, yet his existence is constantly questioned...'
FAITH SHUTS MILO'S LAPTOP.
FAITH:
I'm not much of a creationist...
SHE PLACES THE LAPTOP ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE, THEN REACHES FOR THE LIGHT SWITCH.
I prefer a big bang.
SHE TURNS OUT THE LIGHT.
END OF EPISODE
