Carry on Cruising Page #4

has a most distinctive aroma.

- Sir?

- A niff all its own.

- And that's why you want to find the recipe?

- l like the taste, too.

Now, then. lf l mix this lot in a few different

permutations, by the law of averages,

sooner or later,

l must stumble across the recipe.

- lt's not the only thing you'll stumble on, sir.

- Very comical.

- Would you like me to help, sir?

- No, your place is with the passengers.

Sir.

l've just got time to do a bit of mixing

before the daily officers' meeting. Here we go.

Gin - mother's ruin.

Some Benedictine - merriment in a monastery.

Some sherry - toreador's transfusion.

And one for his nob -

crme de menthe with the hole.

- l'd rather not be disturbed, Marjoribanks.

- l can imagine.

- Unless it's something very important.

- Oh, no, no, sir. lt's nothing.

- That's all right, then. What are you gawping at?

- That mixture!

l haven't even started yet.

Now, then. Beaujolais.

With some egg flip. A dash of bitters.

That should do for me.

l don't doubt that for a minute.

Blimey!

- Binn! Binn!

- What is it?

- The Captain!

- Has he fallen in the drink?

The drink's fallen into him.

He's in his cabin surrounded by bottles.

- lt smells like a brewery.

- l knew it! A secret drinker.

He's blatant!

- You'll have to take over the...

- Ship! l can't! Can't you cure him?

(Sniffs and gasps)

(Coughs)

(Knocking)

BlNN:
Captain! Oh, Captain!

(Knocking)

- Hm?

Hear that? He's incoherent.

- You'll have to take over the...

- Ship!

- Summon the officers.

- What have they done?

(Chattering)

Gentlemen.

Gentlemen. Gentlemen, please.

lt's my painful duty to inform you

that Captain Crowther is guilty

of being drunk in charge of a liner.

As to his future, well,

obviously that lies in hands other than mine.

All l can say for the moment is that, by the law of

the sea, l hereby take command of this vessel.

(Shudders)

ln a climate like this, this ought to be buried.

Oh, well. One more go.

After the meeting.

That one l should have drunk!

There's very little l can do at this juncture,

but as soon as Captain Crowther,

or should l say ex-Captain Crowther,

has drunk himself into a state

of complete insensibility,

l will confine him to sick quarters

and then l'll do the best l can to...

salvage what l can

from this sozzled wreck of a man.

Gentlemen. Everybody here?

Right, let's get down to business.

What's the matter with you, Marjoribanks?

Drunk, eh?

Oh, no. Perhaps not.

Oh!

Oh! Ooh!

Hello there, madam.

lt's the first time we've seen you in here.

Oh, l don't really drink as a rule.

But l've just been through

such a shocking experience.

Oh? And what do you think you'd like

to get over it?

That. Such an enigmatic label.

Vodka? Neat?

Oh, yes. l do like things tidy.

- Cheers.

- Hooray.

Central heating all to myself!

l'll have some more.

- Are you sure, madam?

- Oh, yes, yes.

Fill her up again, and two shots of Redex.

- Oh, hello, girls.

- Hello, Miss Madderley.

- Champagne, please.

- Certainly, madam.

Oh, l say, Flo, steady on!

You're not used to champagne.

Nonsense.

lt's just like cider with a French accent.

Besides, l can drink anything.

At our office party...

(Cork pops)

- Will you have one, Miss Madderley?

- She's just been on vodka.

Ooh, yes. l'm well in practice.

Thank you, my dear.

- Call me Bridget.

- Florence.

No, dear. Bridget.

l'm Florence.

- Oh, yes. Florence.

- l'm Glad.

So am l. Well, now, that's all sorted out.

- Mud in your eye.

- Really?

Oh, well, never mind.

They say it's good for the skin.

- Tame. Tame.

- l could put brandy and brown sugar in it.

That sounds good.

- Skip the brown sugar.

- Good idea.

- That's better.

- Much better!

Flo!

- Let's have something different.

- Mix it?

Some of us can...some of us can't.

Cor!

- l'll buy this one.

- My pal Bridget.

That! Ooh, lovely colour!

- Green chartreuse, madam?

- To match my friend's complexion.

- Doubles.

- Flo.

- Down the hatch.

- Ooh, not likely!

l know a much better place.

- Oh, come on, Flo!

- My round. My round.

Name it, Bridget.

- Flo, dear...

- Two Flo Dears, neat.

l thought you meant the name of a drink!

Two Flo Dears! (Laughs)

(Laughs raucously) Ooh!

Ooh, lummy.

Flo, dear,

do you think l could possibly have that?

- Whiskey?

- Flo!

Scotland forever!

- lt's lrish.

- Up the lrish!

- We'll have both.

- No prejudice.

- Macbeth.

- Macfisheries.

- Begorra.

- And a...

And a shillelagh under your arm.

What a woman!

(Groans)

Come on, Flo. Let's go home now.

What? Swim all the way?

No, l mean give in. Let's leave.

Never!

Anything she can booze, l can booze better.

Who did that? Who did it?

l'll go ten rounds with anyone in this bar.

Put 'em up!

l'll be back.

As soon as l've had a bit of fresh air, l'll be back.

Line 'em up, Bridget, old girl,

and l'll match you tit for tat and...and...tot for tot.

l can walk...you know.

Face to face with Dr Crippen.

Yes, Miss Castle. Are you all right?

(Slurred) You seem to think so. You asked me

to dance with you a say or do ago.

l've thought it over.

l'd be charmed!

(Sings) # l belong to Glasgow

# Dear old Glasgow town

# Dee-da-dee-da-dee-da, a-dee-da-dee-da-dee

(Laughs) # Dee-da-dee-da-dee

Oops!

You're lovely.

How come you haven't got a better job?

- Miss Castle, please!

- Well, l mean to say.

He's so dis...dis...so dis...elegant.

And only a bus inspector.

- Madam, this is the Captain.

- And l'm Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Here, you... you... you get off the buses, mate.

Go to sea.

You've got that naughty nautical look, you have.

Lovely. (Hiccups)

You're just lovely.

There you are!

Oh!

Ooh... Ooh, the ship's growing!

- Tell the Captain.

- l am the Captain.

And l'm Toulouse-Lautrec.

Anchors aweigh!

- Come on, Flo.

FLO:
Lovely.

Wait for me, Bridget. (Giggles)

- Well?

- Well...

None of us can be blamed for that, sir.

lt's just a couple of ladies

having a tidge too much of the old duty free.

Yes, that's all it's...

Served by Mr Turner. One of your quintet.

Marjoribanks...she... she danced with me.

Well, don't preen yourself, Binn.

She had to be drunk first.

Oh, yes, she di...

You!

l thought so.

- Where are we?

- ltaly, sir.

ltaly! Ah, it's good to be back.

- Open the chianti.

- Certainly, sir.

# Bella Marie

# Please come to me

# Bella Marie

# Bella Marie

(Sings) # Na-dee-dee-dee

# Mm-mm-mm

# Dee-dee-dee

# Da-dee-dee

Ah. This'll slay 'em in Streatham.

(Ship's horn)

The Captain's on his bridge.

All's right with the world.

Good.

What a secure feeling to be able

to sleep soundly with the Captain at the helm.

- Glad!

- Oh!

Oh, Flo! What a shock!

To me, too.

Glad, l've just realised!

l'm a woman!

You always were observant.

Now can we get some sleep?

A woman who needs a man, not a boy.

A mature, responsible, dominant man.

- Like him.

- The Captain?

Oh, Glad,

if only he'd show some interest in me, l'd...

(Ship's horn)

Aye aye, sir.

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