Bottom Live: The Big Number 2 Tour Page #5

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EDDIE:

Yep, that penicillin worked a treat.

(He pats his crotch.)

RICHIE:

No, you twat! The Kidderminster.

EDDIE:

Oh.

RICHIE:

Did the Chernobyl-o foam do the trick?

EDDIE:

Well, after a fashion, yes.

RICHIE:

How do you mean?

(Eddie walks towards the door.)

EDDIE:

Well, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it’s vaporized the toilet.

RICHIE:

Well, you can't get much cleaner than that.

EDDIE:

And the cistern, and the wall, can see right through to the neighbours now.

(Richie has joined Eddie at the door, observing the damage.)

RICHIE:

Oh so you can.

(Richie and Eddie wave at a neighbour.)

EDDIE:

(Giggles) Hello.

RICHIE:

COO-EY, MRS TIGGYWINKLE!!!

(Richie is taken aback by Mrs Tiggywinkle's response.)

RICHIE:

Charming. WELL, F*** YOU TOO! B*tch. It does seem a little vigorous, doesn't it, Eddie?

EDDIE:

Yeah.

RICHIE:

What does it say on the bottle?

EDDIE:

“Guarantees to kill 99%... of everything.”

RICHIE:

Well, what does it leave?

EDDIE:

The germs. Bit of a f***-up, really, isn't it?

RICHIE:

No, no, not entirely, Eddie...

(Richie pats his arse.)

RICHIE:

It was a bargain.

EDDIE:

You mean you nicked it?

(Richie pats his arse again.)

RICHIE:

Absolutely.

EDDIE:

Hurrah.

RICHIE:

Ooh, Eddie, now that's a point.

EDDIE:

Yes?

RICHIE:

Have you got the bunting?

EDDIE:

I'm sorry about that, it's just a touch of indigestion.

(Richie looks concerned.)

RICHIE:

Did you have the fish?

EDDIE:

NO! I ate it.

RICHIE:

Oh, well thank god for that. Thought you'd gone all pervy on me. No, what I meant was, you sad, experimental life form, have you put up the special message for the queen?

EDDIE:

WHAT, THE QUEEN'S COMING ROUND!?

(Richie sighs into his hands despairingly.)

RICHIE:

YES, THE QUEEN IS COMING ROUND!!

PARROT:

Yes, the queen is coming round.

RICHIE AND EDDIE:

Oh, shut the f*** up!

EDDIE:

Well, that's a bit of luck because I happened to put up a bit of bunting to welcome her on the uff...off...

RICHIE:

uff or off?

EDDIE:

OFF, you f***er! They knew what I meant. We'll call that one-all.

RICHIE:

Alright. I'm not the only one who's had five pints of sticky stuff before I come on.

EDDIE:

But not in my mouth.

RICHIE:

Ooh.

EDDIE:

Ooh.

RICHIE:

Face front.

EDDIE:

Oh, well, that's a bit of luck...

RICHIE:

Oh yes.

EDDIE:

...Because I happened to put up a bit of bunting to welcome her on the off-chance that she should care to do so.

(Richie and Eddie walk towards the window.)

RICHIE:

Oh, thank god. Something's firing in there. Right, let's have a look at the special message in all it's patriotic glory.

(Richie sticks his head out the window to look at it. Eddie holds his arms out, and ushers Richie out, and back in again. Richie looks bemused, and laughs nervously. Eddie grunts in confusion. Richie double checks, and comes back in again.)

RICHIE:

“God save the Quim”, Eddie?

EDDIE:

Yeah, “God save the Quim”

RICHIE:

Uh, the Quim!

EDDIE:

The Quim!

RICHIE:

Well, then again, i'm not going to get into an argument with that, I mean, where would we be in a world without quim?

EDDIE:

You tell me, you're the expert.

RICHIE:

Bloody hell, Eddie, look, the town hall clock. It says a quarter to 12.

EDDIE:

Yes, it's said a quarter to 12 since 1957.

RICHIE:

Well, that's what I mean, what's the f***ing time??

EDDIE:

Haven't got a clue.

RICHIE:

Right, come on, let's switch on the telly, see where she's got to.

(Richie tries switching on the telly with the remote. It doesn't work. He presses it harder, and harder, then whistles, and presses down on it so hard that it he physically shakes.)

RICHIE:

Why won't it come on!?

EDDIE:

Because... That's not a remote control television. And that's a packet of chocolate bourbon biscuits.

RICHIE:

F***ing pensioners!

(Richie lobs the packet of biscuits across the room.)

RICHIE:

Go on, Eddie, you switch it on. You know how much I hate to touch that frightful thing.

EDDIE:

Here we go.

(Eddie switches on the tv, it gives him a massive electric shock. He rearranges his bollocks.)

RICHIE:

Oh, look, there they are, there they are. Oh, god bless them.

(Contemplative pause.)

RICHIE:

Why is she making a space rocket out of used toilet rolls and talking to a pink hippopotamus?

EDDIE:

Because, that's not the Queen, that's Zippy from Rainbow.

RICHIE:

(offended) Well, how the hell did he get into the state carriage??

EDDIE:

You're on the wrong side!

RICHIE:

I BLOODY WELL AM NOT! I merely walked into the ladies by accident that time.

EDDIE:

Oh god.

(Eddie switches over to the right channel. It gives him another electric shock. He rearranges his bollocks again.)

EDDIE:

God, all this channel hopping's playing hell with my googlies.

RICHIE:

Out the way, Eddie, out the way! Look, look, look, there they are! Oh, god bless them. They're stuck on the Hammersmith Flyover.

EDDIE:

Look, there's Princess Margaret.

RICHIE:

Yes, yes. Look, she's bowing.

EDDIE:

Over the back of the coach.

(Richie and Eddie both tilt their heads to the side to meet her angle, it just keeps going.)

RICHIE:

Very long, deep bow, isn't it?

EDDIE:

With her mouth wide open. I think she's being sick, Rich.

RICHIE:

Yes, yes. Oh, it's a great honor for the people of Hammersmith. It'll be quite a scrabble for the bits of carrot later, I expect.

EDDIE:

(Horrified) WOW, LOOK AT THAT RICH! Someone's got his knob out!

RICHIE:

(Shocked) WHAT?

(Richie bolts up off the couch, and shakes his fist at the TV.)

RICHIE:

How dare you... Eddie, that's not a knob, that's the Duke of Edinburgh's nose. It's a great nose, your Dukeness, looks just like a knob. Curtsey to the knob-nose, Eddie.

(Richie and Eddie curtsy in their imaginary skirts.)

RICHIE:

Oh, I love this pageantry.

(Eddie and Richie watch, and become increasingly bored.)

RICHIE:

What did you say was on the other side?

EDDIE:

Rainbow!

RICHIE:

Oh, great.

(Eddie excitedly gets up and turns back to the other channel, getting another electric shock. He rearranges his bollocks again.)

EDDIE:

Oh f***, f***, f***, f***, f***.

RICHIE:

Oh, yeah, there you are, Zippy, you little horn monster. C'mere...

(Richie runs towards the TV, shoving his hands down the front of the trousers. He then remembers that Eddie is there.)

RICHIE:

Sh*t!

(He corrects himself before sitting back on the couch, and looking mortified. Eddie is shocked.)

RICHIE:

Well, come along, Eddie, this is no time for watching children's television.

(Richie kicks the TV in, it explodes.)

RICHIE:

We have to tidy up the flat for the queen.

EDDIE:

Right.

RICHIE:

And we're going to have to hurry because she'll be going like buggery down Mafeking Parade, to avoid all her subjects throwing things at her. There was a very strong republican whiff down the Lamb 'n' Flag last night.

EDDIE:

I apologize for that. It's the last time I drink Guinness.

RICHIE:

You don't normally order Guinness, Eddie.

EDDIE:

Nah, I found it on the table next to ours as I was on the way back from the lav. I think it actually belonged to Mad Dog Patrick “Do-You-Want-Some-Of-This” O'Fist.

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