Danny the Champion of the World

(Flapping overhead)

(Gunfire)

(Pheasant squawks)

(Whistle)

(Pheasant squawks)

(Pheasants coo)

(Men's voices approaching)

- Morning, sir.

- Morning, sir.

(Tyres screech)

A-ha.

Hmm.

- See you soon, William.

- (Man) Bye, Doc. See you soon.

She's full up, Doc.

Who? Oh, yes! Good, good.

Now, let's see.

- There, Danny, thank you.

- I checked the oil.

Oh, you've done it? That's good.

(Starts engine)

Like a cello.

Well, it is!

- Can I take her out?

- All right.

Where's reverse?

Er... Across and up.

(Tyres screech)

(Tyres screech)

You idiot! Why don't you watch -

Well done, Dan.

Afternoon. Teaching your boy

to drive, I see. Good idea.

Seems like a bright lad.

- My name's...

- Hazell.

Correct. (Chuckles)

- Already famous round here, am I?

- Notorious.

That's what I like about the country.

Everybody knows everybody.

My solicitor sent you a letter.

- I replied to it last week.

- That's why I wanted to see you.

I don't know why I use lawyers -

I like to do business face to face.

- Dad!

- Oh, er...

- Ah.

- Sorry.

Is there somewhere more private

we could talk?

- This is fine for me.

- Yes, well, whatever you say.

- You've got me over a barrel.

- Have I?

I knew I was going to have to pay out

to buy you out.

I'm not complaining. Business is business.

And I do happen to be a very rich man.

I'll give you 2,000 for this place.

Yes, that is a lot of money.

I'll put my cards on the table.

I've got one of the finest

pheasant shoots in England here.

I can't make it the tops with you

sitting slap-bang in the middle.

- This is your lucky day.

- I said in my letter I'm not selling.

He's got quite a head for business,

your dad.

All right, 2,500 -

but that's my top whack.

Mr Hazell, it's not for sale.

I don't know how to say it more clearly.

Come on, Dan, give me the grease gun.

How much do you make on this place? Eh?

Ten, maybe 12 quid a week,

if you're lucky?

I'm offering you a small fortune.

The opportunity of a lifetime.

What about the boy there? Shouldn't

you be thinking about his future?

Do you think we should sell, Danny?

- You see, we're happy here.

- I think I should warn you...

..I always get what I want,

one way or another.

No one can have everything they want.

(Hazell) I can.

Happy here, are you?

We'll see about that.

Right, now, where did we get to?

Where the Big Friendly Giant

could hear things.

Oh, yes. Your mother always

loved stories about giants, too.

The Big Friendly Giant's sense of

hearing was absolutely fantastic.

He could hear the tread of a ladybird

walking across a leaf.

He could hear the whispering of ants

as they scurried about

under the soil, gossiping.

You see, my love, there's

a whole world of sound around us

that we can't hear because our ears -

- Dad?

- What?

- That man...

- Victor Hazell?

Do you think he's going

to do nasty things to us?

- Yes, my love, I think he is.

- He's a millionaire, isn't he?

He's what we used to call a spiv

in the war.

While we were fighting,

he was making money

out of everybody else's misery.

- Is he a crook?

- Mm.

I suppose he is, sort of.

But I reckons as how you and I

are match enough for 'im.

Time for sleep.

First day of school tomorrow. Ugh!

Good night, my darling.

(Birds twitter)

I see he's bought

old Whaddon's smallholding.

(Hammering)

(Car horn)

- Morning, Mrs Clipstone.

- Morning, William. Morning, Danny.

- Morning.

- Morning.

- Morning, Danny.

- Lovely day.

(Children chatter)

Danny, don't forget

to give this to Mr Snoddy.

- It's his bill for the tyre.

- OK.

- Danny?

- Yeah?

- Bye!

- See you for tea.

(Bell rings)

(Children talk and shout)

(Man hums)

(Children sing hymn in distance)

#..we ought to ask

# Room to deny ourselves

# A road to bring us daily nearer God

# Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love

# Fit us for perfect rest above

# And help us this and every day

# To live more nearly as we pray

# Amen #

Boys and girls, you'll no doubt have

noticed a new face here this morning.

It's my pleasure to introduce

Mr Lancaster.

Wha... What?

Erm...

Captain Lancaster.

He'll be taking the senior class.

I'm sure you'd all like to give him

a warm welcome.

(Reluctant clapping)

(Children laugh)

Erm... Did you not learn to knock

before entering a room, lad?

Sorry, sir, I didn't think you were here.

My dad told me to give you this letter.

Thank you. I... Erm... I take a

wee nip now and again, understand?

Course.

I mean...

There's no great secret about it.

What I mean to say is that er...er...

Nobody knows.

- I won't tell, I promise.

- I'm sure you won't.

Right, well, off you go, then.

(Children chant times tables in distance)

(Silence)

- (Floor creaks)

- Boy!

- You're late.

- Sorry, sir.

Name?

Danny, sir.

- I asked for your name, boy.

- Smith, sir.

Well... Smith.

Do you know, if there's one thing I hate

more than a boy who's late,

it's a boy who attempts to sneak

and creep into my classroom

like a nasty little snake.

- Do you understand?

- Yes, sir.

Get to your place at the double!

Now, as it's the first day of term,

I am prepared to be lenient.

But...

I want to make one thing very clear.

I will not tolerate

any breaches of the school rules.

Punctuality.

Order.

Discipline.

That's what I demand.

And I know how to get it.

- Who are those men, Dad?

- Men from the Ministry.

Some garage owners

top up with low-grade fuel

in their high-grade tanks.

Make a bit more cash. It's an old dodge.

Right, sir, we've finished.

If you'd just like to sign here.

- Got a blitz on, have you?

- Just routine, sir.

No, it's not. A couple of your chaps

were here two weeks ago.

I don't know anything about that, sir.

Tell Mr Victor Hazell from me

he's wasting his time.

I don't know what you're talking

about, sir. Afternoon.

How was the first day back, Dan?

All right. There's a horrible new

master called Captain Lancaster.

Dad, did they really come

because of Mr Hazell?

No doubt about it.

I don't expect they'll be the last.

(Man's voice on phone)

Of course he knew it was a put-up job.

That was the idea.

You let me worry about that.

Bye.

(Rings)

- (Woman) Town Hall.

- Is Councillor Mitchell there, please?

- Putting you through.

- (Man) 489.

Stan! There's something

I'd like you to do for me.

(Birds squawk)

Dad?

Dad?

Dad?

Dad?

(Sign creaks)

Dad? Where are you?

(William) Danny?

- Dad!

- Danny, what are you doing?

Where have you been? I thought

something terrible had happened.

Oh, sweetheart.

I'm sorry, Danny. I was wrong.

I shouldn't have done it. I didn't

think you'd wake up. You never do.

Done what, Dad?

Where have you been?

- I've been up to Hazell's woods.

- But that's miles! Why?

Why?

Do you know what poaching is?

You mean... catching things?

Well... It's rather more than that.

It's going out to the woods at night

and coming home

with a nice fat pheasant for the pot.

- But that's stealing.

- What?

- (Laughs) No, it's not.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes