Carry on at Your Convenience Page #4

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Oh, dear Mrs Spanner.

- You spoil me, you do.

- Not at all.

You really do.

You a nice clean boy again, then?

What's he going to say? Ta, Mummy?

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

Talk about a non-stop performance.

I thought he was going to talk.

His beak opened and closed.

- No.

- Yes.

Fancy that.

A bird opening and closing its beak.

We'll have to write to the newspapers.

Well, it's a start.

Generally, he just sits there doing nothing.

He's a natural mimic. He's copying you.

Say, hello, Mummy. Hello, Mummy.

- Say, hello, Mummy.

- What's all this stuff still left on the table for?

- Are we having an exhibition?

- Do you want me to clear it?

No, no, no. I can manage.

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello. Go on.

Hello, Mummy.

Hello, Joey.

I don't understand it.

Mrs Phillips' bird talked in three months.

Whole sentences.

Mind you, they weren't very nice things it said.

They had to cover it up when the vicar called.

Face it. He's a dead loss.

We should get rid of him.

No. He's company for me.

That was the whole idea of it, wasn't it, Joey?

You'd be company for me, wouldn't you?

It's all right for you.

You go to work and enjoy yourself.

I'm here alone all day.

You'll be alone all night if you don't shut up.

Do you mind? I'm trying to work out my bets.

I wonder if he wants a little mate.

What would he want a little mate for?

Give him something to do.

What?

Well, you know.

No, I don't know.

Birds and fishes have always

been a mystery to me. What do they do?

Don't be silly.

They... bill and coo.

What with?

Well, I don't have to go into details, do I?

Blimey. Males and females all look the same,

don't they?

We can tell what we've got hold of,

but how the hell can they tell?

- Well, we know Joey's a he bird, don't we?

- Cock.

He is! The man in the shop said so.

Cock bird, not "he" bird.

It's all the same thing.

You wouldn't call yourself a cock man,

would you?

Opportunity would be a fine thing.

Stop that row and get that thing out of here!

Not so much noise!

Not so much noise! My mum's there!

Go on, you great gormless lump!

Quite right, Mrs Spanner. It's a disgrace.

You mind your own bloody business.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't realise you were here, Mr Coote.

Oh, that's all right...

Agatha.

Has Victor gone?

Yes, Charles. We're all alone now.

Good. How about it, then?

Oh, I don't know.

I really ought to do the dishes first.

Oh, they can wait. Just a quick one.

I do find it very hard to say no to you.

You know you like it just as much as I do.

Very well. I'll draw the curtains.

- Right.

- Yes.

Cut for deal.

- Oh!

- What's the matter? Did you lose something?

Oh, damn near.

Stay there!

Oh, so that's your game, is it?

Bernie, follow that car!

- What car?

- That car! The one with Myrtle in it!

Myrtle who?

- Oh, come on. Get going.

- Right. We're off!

What do you mean, me wasting time?

You never win anything on the horses, do you?

How ignorant can you get?

I've told you. I work it out scientifically.

I study form.

Why don't you win sometimes?

Can I help it if they don't run scientifically?

It doesn't seem right to me, throwing that money

away each day and us going without.

Don't notice you going without anything.

I wouldn't mind, if you could just pick a winner

every now and then.

You reckon you could do better, then?

I couldn't do much worse, could I?

All right. Let's see.

I'll read out the runners in the Newmarket

three o'clock. See if you can pick the winners.

That's silly.

We won't know the winners until this evening.

No, no, no, this is yesterday's racing.

- Oh.

- Here we go.

Anthony Watt. Jolmon. Carbia. Cleopatra.

Sid, did you hear that?

Yes. His very first chirp. How about that?

Oh. It must have been one of them words

you read out.

- What words?

- One of them horse's names.

Cleopatra?

- There.

- Yes.

Oh! Does he like that word, then?

Cleopatra.

Cleopatra.

- Cleopatra.

- All right, all right. Don't tire him out.

Oh, Sid. Isn't it exciting?

Yeah. Mind you, it's time he did something else

apart from dropping good luck messages.

- Oh.

- Right. Now, then. Where were we?

We don't have to go any further.

- If that's what Joey liked, I'll pick it.

- Cleopatra?

Yes.

It was a 10-1 shot. It had no chance.

I don't mind. Well, what won?

By three lengths - Cleopatra.

There you are. What did I tell you?

You didn't pick it. The bloomin' bird picked it.

Well, it won, didn't it?

Are you going potty?

Just because he likes the word.

What does he know about horses?

I don't know, but he's done better in one race

than you've done the whole season.

But that's not the point, is it?

You're the one who said you could pick 'em

better than me, so let's see you pick one.

I'll read you the 3:30 runners.

Diddy Ching.

Fast Day Boy.

Golden Gay.

Tiny Tim.

You keep out of this. Now, where was I?

That'll do me. Tiny Tim.

Just cos he chirped again?

Yes. Well, who won?

This is ridiculous. There's no reason to it.

We can't all pick scientifically, can we?

Well, who won?

Tiny Tim.

4-1.

There you are. You see?

Now, are you satisfied?

Who's a clever boy, then?

- Did he pick the winners for Mummy, then?

- Shut up. Shut up a minute.

- I want to try another one.

- I don't feel like doing any more.

Not you, him. Now, listen, mush.

I'm going to read the runners of the four o'clock.

Now, concentrate. Are you ready?

Right.

The Woozer.

X- Ray. Double Dwelling.

- I'll see you.

- Two pairs.

Oh, dear. You've beaten me again.

I knew this was going to be my lucky day.

- Now, no looking.

- Oh.

Hello, Mrs Spragg. It's got very cold, innit?

Not surprising.

- I thought I heard the front door.

- So did I.

Victor!

What are you doing without your trousers on?

Well, you can talk, I must say.

Eh? What? Oh! Argh!

Polar Prince.

Silver Plate.

Pollyanna.

Well, did it?

Yes. He's picked the winner

of every single race yesterday.

He must have seen the results in the paper.

That's it... What are you talking about?

He can't read, can he?

Well, how do you know?

You didn't even know how they made love.

He's getting information somewhere.

Where are you getting it? Come on, talk. Talk!

Oh, don't be silly. You know he can't talk.

You're quite right.

Big, fat, beady-eyed, useless lump.

Don't talk to him like that.

And what do you mean useless?

He's picked all the winners this afternoon.

After they'd run.

Fat lot of good that is.

If he could pick 'em before they...

I wonder. What's the time?

- Half past three.

- I can be at the betting shop by half past four.

Now, listen, genius. Listen to me.

Who's a nice fella, then?

Who's a big, handsome, clever lad?

What are you going to do to him?

Shut up a minute. I'm going to read you

the runners of the 4:30 at Kempton today.

Now, relax. Think carefully.

Winners only. Here we go.

Family Steps.

Petticoat.

Peewit The Third.

Peewit The Third?

He's never even been placed.

You must be out of your tiny mind!

Oh! Now look what you've done!

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