Breakfast on Pluto Page #6
You have to tell him, Charlie.
I can't.
He's all f***ed up. He's....
So, how are the homeless?
Homeless are fine.
That's what keeps him out late, Kitten...
working with the homeless.
Right, Irwin?
-I can't have it, can I, Paddy?
-No.
No, you can't.
Irwin's involved in sh*t
I know.
What would it turn out like, Paddy?
You know what I mean, don't you?
It'd be an absolute disaster, like me.
Now, I want you to read this leaflet.
It outlines all aspects
of the termination procedure.
Termination?
-You mean this is an abortion clinic?
-Yes, of course it is.
I thought it was a fertility clinic.
I think she changed her mind. Thank you.
You said it'd be a disaster, like you.
Worse, probably.
-But I love you, you f***ing disaster.
-Oh, Charlie.
-Promise you won't get lost again?
-I promise.
Tell him.
Tell me what?
Charlie's joining the Sandinistas.
Aren't you, Charlie?
-Sandinistas?
-They're a rock band.
-Aren't they, Charlie?
-Where can I reach you?
Try Cambridge Circus.
See you, Paddy.
-You and me, darling. What do you say?
-I don't quite know what to say.
Christ, you're a bloke!
Ten out of ten, Sherlock.
You fancy a drink or something?
Campari and soda, if you don't mind.
Of course I don't.
Wouldn't have asked you otherwise,
would I?
Campari and soda, please, mate.
There you go, mate.
Cheers.
Thank you.
-Crowded tonight.
-Oh, yes.
-Football supporters?
-No, Royal Engineers.
Oh, soldiers.
Just come back from a tour of duty.
-Aden? Cyprus? No, let me guess.
-F***ing Ulster.
I haven't got anything
against the Irish, though, mind.
-I hear they're very friendly.
-Don't know. Maybe.
It's the politicians what f*** it up, though,
isn't it?
Do you wanna dance?
Yes, I'd love to.
-You okay?
-Oh, yes. Super.
You seem a little bit tense.
Would you do something for me?
Yeah, of course.
Would you pretend your name's Bobby?
Bobby who?
Bobby Goldsboro.
It's his song, you see.
Bobby it is, then.
All you have to do is plant a little tree...
surprise me with a puppy...
I'll hug your neck.
Back. Go to the back end.
Get as many men down as you can.
All right, my love,
we're gonna get you out of here.
Come on, my love. Can you stand?
That's it.
As many people as we can get out
through the door.
Take my shoulder, love.
You're all right, mate, I've got you.
My tights.
-Easy, easy.
-Steady down there. Steady.
My tights! They're in ribbons.
You're alive, love, that's the main thing.
Come on.
I know what I'll have to do,
I'll have to get a new pair.
There's no other way, I'm afraid.
Keep still, darling.
Don't try and move, okay?
Please, let us through now!
Watch out.
-I told you, from my best side, darlings.
-Bring the other ambulance.
Slow down.
That's it. Slowly now.
Come on, get out of the way, please!
Come on.
-Out of the way.
-Please, nurse, he's in so much pain.
No, they're Christian Dior.
Do you really have to?
How silly can you get,
putting an "X" across my weenie.
Not so silly as 11 f***ing people
blown to pieces...
F***ing baby-faced, f***ing Irish murderer!
I'm sorry, did you call?
I can't quite see where you are.
I'm over here, you see.
Millions of miles up here
Tell him what he wants to know!
It's free. Everyone thinks it's cold up here...
but it's actually quite warm.
Yes, it's warm as toast up on Pluto.
Pluto.
Don't try the f***ing blarney on us, Paddy!
We know you planted the f***ing bomb!
But of course I did, my darling.
Why, I've planted hundreds of them.
Have you now? Well, plant this!
Hello, officer.
I'm over here.
Just take a left at the Milky Way.
We'll travel to Mars and visit
Christ, I can't f***ing stand this!
Listen, son,
why don't you just make a statement?
A statement, officer?
Why didn't you just say so?
Attaboy. There's no point
making it hard for all of us.
Of course not.
After all, we're all friends here.
Let's start with where you were
on Thursday, October 17th.
I was in my little cell
working with my active service unit.
But I was working undercover.
Undercover?
Oh, it's all coming back to me now.
Pen and paper, please.
Patricia Kitten, a.k.a. Deep Throat...
had penetrated the deepest recesses
of the Republican sphincter...
with her secret anti-terrorist spray...
named after Gabrielle Coco Chanel's
lucky number.
The stability of Semtex
will be compromised.
Oh, but, Lord, was she sick of that black.
What is it with freedom fighters
and couture anyway?
You've got fuse support and booster charge.
What can I say?
We've got here the pressure plate--
Stop
Why won't he just talk to us?
Did he or didn't he, dressed as a woman,
get caught by his own bomb?
We've held him six days now.
Seven's the max.
Paddy?
-You all right?
-Fine. Absolutely wonderful.
Meet us halfway, will you, Paddy?
Tell us why you came over here.
Well, I was just looking for someone.
-I was just looking for Eily Bergin.
-Who's Eily Bergin, Paddy?
She's gone undercover now.
The biggest city in the world
swallowed her up.
Could she help us
with our inquiries, Paddy?
She could help me with mine.
Do you want us to find her?
Have you got an address?
-You could try The House That Vanished.
-The House That Vanished.
Oh, Christ. I think we're all losing it.
We're gonna get some sleep now, Paddy.
We're gonna get some sleep.
Look, I think we may have made a mistake.
-Officer?
-What is it now?
If you came home from the office
and you found me lying on the floor...
-would you take me to the hospital?
-Well, of course I would.
like you're doing now?
Well, yeah.
So if I wasn't a transvestite terrorist,
would you marry me?
No, for f***'s sake.
Well, is Officer Wallis
gonna be a happy man or what?
We've held you too long
by all accounts. Look.
Oh, no, you can't.
You can't. Not when I'm settling in so well.
Take your head off my shoulder, son.
You don't understand, Paddy.
We can't keep you here.
It's impossible.
We couldn't even if we wanted to.
F*** this, I'm going on a long holiday.
Wife says I need it.
Come on!
Come on, just for one day.
It wouldn't kill you.
Sorry, Paddy. It's impossible.
-Okay, a half-a-day, please?
-No.
Look, do you mind me asking?
I mean, why do you wanna....
I mean, it don't make any sense.
-It just makes me feel secure.
-Secure?
Yes, you see, in the cell...
sometimes I think my legs
are turning into air...
and I'm floating in space, and I'm all alone.
"Galactic aloneness," I've heard that called.
Please, Routledge.
I just wanna belong.
I'd be your best prisoner.
I'd cook and I'd clean and I'd sweep...
and I'd iron all the uniforms. I....
-Hey, Paddy!
-I just wanna....
No, I'm afraid it's goodbye now.
All right, go get that bus there.
Go on!
Jennifer Jones and William Holden.
Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing?
Have you ever been in love?
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