Bottom Live: The Big Number 2 Tour Page #3

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EDDIE:

Oh, it's a punch in the face.

RICHIE:

OOH, wut...?

(Eddie punches Richie.)

RICHIE:

oh, bollock, I wasn't expecting that, Eddie.

EDDIE:

Well, you should read your horoscope more carefully. It's all here on page seven of the Bugle.

RICHIE:

Is it?

(Richie reads the Bugle. He laughs in surprise.)

RICHIE:

So it is. Wednesday: Get punched in face, Thursday – Get knackers caught in wrench.

(As Richie is distracted by reading the horoscope, Eddie has sneakily made his way to the back of the couch and picked something up.)

RICHIE:

Friday:
Get nipples set on fire. Hang on, this is all written by “Mystic Eddie”. “You'll wish it never came true.” Anyway, it's not Wednesday, it's Thursday.

EDDIE:

That's right, matey, it's “KNACKERS DAY!”

(Richie exclaims in horror, as Eddie whips out the massive wrench he just pulled from behind the couch. Eddie proceeds to squish his testicles in the wrench. As Richie groans in pain, Eddie joyously shows the wrench to the audience. After a second of pain, Richie realizes he surprisingly enjoys it, and turns to Eddie, lecherously giggling.)

EDDIE:

Oh, you want some more, do you?

RICHIE:

Yes please.

EDDIE:

Right!

(As Eddie gives him a second round, Richie groans in pleasure with the first two crunches, but soon remembers how painful it is.)

RICHIE:

Alright, that's enough, stop, Eddie. STOP!

(When Eddie doesn't stop, Richie starts punching Eddie. Eddie throws away the wrench, and punches back, and it escalates into a fistfight. Eddie kicks Richie in the bollocks, wanders over to the table, and picks up the frying pan. He smacks Richie round the head with it numerous times.)

RICHIE:

Right, Eddie, i’ve got…

(Before Richie finishes his sentence, Eddie swings it right into the front of his face, causing Richie to fall to the ground.)

RICHIE:

Wait.

(Richie lays on the ground with his hand out, begging Eddie to stop. They briefly wait for the audience to stop cheering.)

RICHIE:

No, Eddie, stop, stop, stop! I'm completely f***ed.

EDDIE:

Yeah. I can see that, that'll teach you to drink five pints before you come on.

RICHIE:

Yes, but at least it wasn't beer.

(Richie licks his lips and slowly nods to the audience.)

EDDIE:

Aren't there a lot of sailors in Oxford?

RICHIE:

Shh, shh, shh.

(Getting back to the plot, Richie stands up.)

RICHIE:

No, Eddie, there's no time for this kind of childish, mindless, hanky-panky tomfoolery today.

EDDIE:

No?

RICHIE:

The Queen's coming round.

EDDIE:

Ah, ah.

RICHIE:

So, we've got to tidy up the flat. Scatter a load of doilies around the place. Make the sandwiches. No, no, not the sandwiches, the (in queen's voice) sand-hwiches. The sand-hwiches. And above all Eddie..

EDDIE:

Yeah?

RICHIE:

...stand still.

(Eddie stands upright, not moving a muscle.)

RICHIE:

Be firm.

(Eddie adjusts his posture, and it makes an unflattering, disgusting sound, raising in pitch. Richie is noticably disgusted.)

RICHIE:

Oh no. No, no, no. No, eurgh. No, forget that last bit, just stand still.

(Eddie adjusts back to his original stance, making the same noise, but lowering in pitch.)

RICHIE:

Someone...

EDDIE:

Yeah?

RICHIE:

...Eddie, someone, and i'll repeat that. That... Someone has got to clean the toilet for the Queen.

(Eddie pulls out a cross and holds it up to Richie, as if to defend himself.)

RICHIE:

Oh no, no. No, it's not the toilet, is it? Because the Queen's coming round. What's that word that posh people use for toilet?

EDDIE:

Shitter!

RICHIE:

No!

EDDIE:

Dump station.

RICHIE:

NO!

(Eddie gasps in realization. He claps his hands together.)

EDDIE:

Kidderminster.

RICHIE:

That's it! Everybody knows that Kidderminster is the biggest shithole in the world.

EDDIE:

That's right.

RICHIE:

Now...

EDDIE:

Yep?

RICHIE:

...Someone has got to clean the Kidderminster for the Queen.

EDDIE:

right. What, WHAT THE QUEEN'S COMING ROUND!?

RICHIE:

(groans) YES, THE QUEEN IS COMING ROUND!!

PARROT (OFF-SCREEN)

Yes, the queen is coming round.

(Richie and Eddie look puzzled about the sudden voice. They speculatively examine their crotch area.)

EDDIE:

Who said that?

(Richie remembers, and laughs in relief)

RICHIE:

Oh, that'll be the Archbishop of Canterbury.

(Eddie steps back from Richie, concerned.)

EDDIE:

Have you been drinking?

RICHIE:

I don't drink, Eddie, that's why i'm so thirsty all the time. No, I mean, er, the Parrot.

(Richie takes the cloth off a bird cage just left of the left hand door. Inside it is a red and yellow parrot.)

PARROT:

Good morning.

RICHIE:

Good morning. I'm looking after it for the vicar.

EDDIE:

What vicar? You don't even go to church.

RICHIE:

I don't go to church!?

(Richie laughs incredulously)

RICHIE:

I go a lot more regularly than you.

EDDIE:

I meant to church.

RICHIE:

Well, the same applies.

EDDIE:

Well, that means you only have two shits a year, one at christmas and one at easter.

RICHIE:

Eddie, I go once a week because I don't want to go to hell.

EDDIE:

Oh, I got it. I understand, the only reason you started going to church is because they started having women vicars.

(Richie becomes noticably unnerved)

EDDIE:

You just sit in the back row, don't you? Masturbating!

RICHIE:

How do you know these things?

EDDIE:

I saw you on crimewatch. Yeah, still working on the deal to turn you in, trying to get the money up, you know?

RICHIE:

Hey Eddie, it's a lot cheaper than Electric Blue.

EDDIE:

What, crimewatch?

RICHIE:

Yeah. That Sue Cook?

(Richie and Eddie blow in unison at the thought.)

EDDIE:

“Is there any more information on that, inspector?”

RICHIE AND EDDIE:

STI-I-IFF!

RICHIE:

Excuse me a moment, Eddie.

(Richie heads for the door, but stops himself.)

RICHIE:

Oh no, no, no, there's no time to be thinking about Sue Cook now.

EDDIE:

Oh, right.

RICHIE:

I'll have a good hard think about her later when the Queen's gone, and i'm all snuggled up in bed with my kleenex.

EDDIE:

Me too.

RICHIE:

Now, let's grab a hold of the paper, and have a look at the Queen's movements.

EDDIE:

Oh dear, oh dear, the tabloids get worse and worse.

RICHIE:

No Eddie, no no no, the royal itinerererererererery.

EDDIE:

Ah, ah.

RICHIE:

Now, what's the sequence of events for today? “The Royal Route.”

(Richie and Eddie dirtily growl in unison.)

RICHIE:

11AM, hundred hours, The Queen passes through The Marble Arch.

EDDIE:

What? I thought you said she was going to go the lavvy in our house.

RICHIE:

Eddie, she doesn't go to the “lavvy”, she is The Queen.

EDDIE:

Well then, what the ruddy (blime???) are we bothering to clean it for, then?

RICHIE:

Well, we haven't bothered to clean it yet, have we young man!?

(Richie points a warning finger at Eddie.)

RICHIE:

Now, you listen up, Buster. You listen up, and you listen up good. Because you're grounded, am I coming through here, young man? I want that toilet clean enough to eat your dinner off. And if...

(Richie realizes that his warning finger has strafed down to his crotch area, and it looks like he's masturbating. He stops.)

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