Entertaining Mr Sloane Page #7

---

And I gets up

in the middle of the night...

...to look for the film, you see.

Well, he has a lot of expensive equipment

about in his studio, you see.

It appears he gets the wrong idea. Huh!

He rushes in. He gives a shout.

And the long and the short of it is

I loses my head,

which is a thing

I never ought to have done

what with the worry of them photos

an' all.

And, er...

Hm, I hit him.

I hit him.

Well, he must have had a weak heart.

Something like that. Definitely

should have seen his doctor before that.

Well, I wasn't to know, was I?

Not to blame.

He was healthy. Sound as a bell.

- Weak heart.

- Weak heart, my arse.

You murdered him.

- He fell.

- He was hit. From behind.

- I had no motive, Pop.

- The camera equipment!

Ah! I never touched it! It was never

touched. That proves it, Pop, don't it?

Liar! Lying little bugger!

- Hmm! You're finished, you are.

- Hm...

I didn't tell Ed

because the police are better.

You can't be trusted I see. Irresponsible!

- I'm going to the police.

- You're not threatening me, are you?

You make me desperate.

I've got nothing to lose, you see.

One more chance, Pop.

You gonna give me away?

I'm going to the police!

You bring this on yourself, you know.

(Dadda mumbles)

(Sloane) Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee...

That's it. Pick 'em up then.

That's it. Come on.

- (Gasps)

- There they are. Come on then.

- (Sobs)

- Here you are now. Mind your fingers.

Mind your fingers.

(Choir singing on radio)

I I will take thee to my ways

I That I sin not with my tongue

(Banging upstairs)

I will keep my mouth with a bridle

Ed! Ed!

You better come inside.

The Dadda's having an accident.

- What's that?

- Ooh!

What sort of an accident?

(indistinct choral music)

The old man, he had a fall.

(Kathy) Mr Sloane,

did you strike the Dadda?

- Yes.

- Oh. You admit it. That's honest.

- Provoke you, did he?

- In a way.

Oh, what a thing to do. Hit an old man.

It's not like you.

You're usually so gentle.

- He upset me.

- Did he say a bad word?

Don't expect you can tell me what it was

cos I'll blush.

- I hit him several times.

- Now you're exaggerating.

You're not that type of young man.

Don't do it again

cos Mama wouldn't like it.

Do you want a boiled egg?

Is he all right?

You and me have got

to have a little talk, lad.

- Well, I'll just pop him and see him.

- He's asleep.

Oh! Sleeping off the excitement, is he?

I'll tell you what, I'll take him in

a toffee if I can find one.

(Sloane whistles)

- How hard did you hit him?

- Not hard.

Don't know your own strength, boy.

Using him like a punch bag.

(Lighter clicks)

- I've told you.

- He's dead.

Dead? His heart?

It's murder, boy.

Some check will have

to be made on your excesses.

- Are you sure he's dead?

- As 40 Dodos.

I tried the usual methods of ascertaining.

No heartbeat.

No misting on my cigarette case.

The finest legal brains in the country

can't save you now.

Those pills were undermining

his constitution.

- They've got nothing to do with it!

- I did him a service.

- I'm gonna call the law.

- You can't ruin my life!

I'm impressionable!

- You're my friend.

- No friend of thugs.

Now think what the nick would do to me.

Say he fell downstairs.

You're completely without morals, boy.

I hadn't realised how depraved you were.

You go murdering my father.

Now you ask me to help you evade justice.

Is this where my liberal principles

have led me?

- I ain't got no principles!

- No principles!

Oh, you really have upset me now.

Why am I interested in your welfare?

Why do thinking men everywhere

show young boys the straight and narrow?

Flash cheque books

when delinquency is mentioned?

Support the scout movement?

Principles, boy! Bleeding principles!

I'm sorry, Eddie! Hmm.

I'm sorry.

- The one thing I wanted to give you...

- What?

My principles.

Oh, I'm disillusioned.

I feel I'm doing no good at all.

I'm very bad, Eddie.

Only you can help me on the road

to a useful existence.

If you were to make demands on me, Ed,

you'd have nothing to complain of.

Any demands?

You mean that?

Let me live with you.

I'd wear out my jeans in your service.

- Cook for you.

- I eat out.

- Bring your tea in bed.

- Only tarts drink tea in bed.

Well, you bring me tea in bed then.

Any arrangement you fancy.

(Kathy screams)

He's dead! He's dead!

Do you want the neighbours

to know all our business?

Poor Dadda!

How he must have suffered!

(Tuts, sighs)

- Will I have to send in his pension book?

- Yes!

Oh.

Come on, boy. Come and get your kit.

(Knocking on door)

Don't think I'll ever get into my black.

Put on weight since we buried Mama.

- When the doctor comes...

- Mm.

- ...what are you gonna tell him?

- The Dadda had an attack.

Passed away sudden.

What about the cuts on his face?

Well, he was rude to Mr Sloane.

Provoked him.

They'll get him for murder.

They'll put him away for life.

The Dadda was rude to Mr Sloane.

He said a rude word about me.

Look, you must say

he fell down the stairs.

- I couldn't, Ed.

- We have ourselves to think of.

I pay his wages.

That makes it a tricky situation.

Aiding and abetting.

Oh, wouldn't they make an exception

if we give him a good character?

He hasn't got a good character.

Look, er, do you ever polish the lino

on the landing?

Oh, no, Ed. I have to think of the Dadda.

(Ed) Hm...

Polish it.

Should I put the Dadda's new shoes on him?

Slippy, are they?

Only worn them once.

Good girl.

You may bring the Dadda downstairs now.

Downstairs?

Yes. Lay him out on the dining room table.

Mr Sloane will help you.

To me! To me!

That's it.

Easy now. Easy.

I've got the heavy end, remember.

Mind! Careful!

Mind you don't break any of him!

No! There! That's it!

Careful! Oh, dear!

Ed... That's right.

Oopsy daisy. Gently.

- He's a weight!

- (Kathy) Yes.

- Get your kit.

- She's got two of my shirts in the wash.

Never mind all that.

There we are. Hold that, Ed.

That's it.

That's lovely. Thank you, Ed.

There we are.

Handies.

Oh, doesn't he look marvellous?

He always was an elegant man.

(Ed) Sure.

Lucky we had these left over

from the fuse.

You may light them now, Eddie.

Oh, he'd have liked this.

That's it.

Makes one feel quite pious, doesn't it?

(Lighter clicks)

I was just saying, Mr Sloane,

the ritual of it all

makes you feel quite religious.

Where are you going with the suitcase?

Why does he need his suitcase?

He's coming to live with me.

Oh, no.

He wants to stay here.

- Ask him. Do you want to stay?

- No.

Got something to tell you, Ed.

I got a bun in the oven.

You got a whole bloody baker's shop

by the look of that!

It's all right. Mr Sloane has told me

how you seduced him.

The grisly details.

Oh, Mr Sloane, dear. How could you?

- Accusing me of seducing you?

- You bloody did!

Well, that's neither here nor there,

using expressions like that.

Making yourself cheap!

He was innocent

until you got your maulers onto him.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes