How to Get Ahead in Advertising Page #6

- Thanks for the cigarette, Mrs Wallace.

- I thought you'd given up.

I have. I'm not smoking it.

I'm just holding it.

- I'll be out later.

- Don't be too long.

We're leaving in less than an hour.

Who's gonna tell me about it, then?

You or the boil?

No, no. I think we should start again.

There's no side to any of this.

There is me. There is a boil.

The boil happens to be able to speak, but

that doesn't qualify it to give an opinion.

It was me that decided

to come here, not it.

You don't think the inclusion

of the boil could perhaps help us?

No. I'm not interested in its opinions.

Even if it says something

that might be of relevance?

I'm not interested in it,

no matter what it says.

In my opinion,

it should be lanced instantly.

It was the only reason

I agreed to come off the garage roof.

If it wants to join in,

it can pay its own bill.

Come and lie down.

Please.

Tell me about advertising.

Now, you resigned from an important

firm with a very highly paid job.

I'd like to know your reasons.

Well, at least try

and give me an example

of even one of those reasons.

All right. Reason one.

Advertising conspires with Big Brother.

And you're afraid of Big Brother?

Someone or something

coming into your life

and telling you what to do?

No. I'm not afraid of him. I'm one

of the few who really understands him.

Oh?

The man who conceived of Big Brother

never knew what was coming

down the line.

Thought his filthy creation

was gonna be watching us.

But it is us who watch it.

There's one in every living room.

The monstrous injustice of it is,

we stare at it of our own free will.

So we could say, principally,

that it's television that you blame?

We can say entirely it is the crooks

who've infiltrated it that I blame.

They've moved in on the greatest

means of communication since the wheel.

And now they've done it,

their greed is insatiable.

They're cutting down jungles

to breed hamburgers,

turning the whole world into a car park.

They'd sell off the sea to satisfy

the needs of their great god Greed.

They won't be satisfied,

not till we're all squatting

in one of its f***ing hatchbacks

on a motorway.

There isn't going to be

anywhere left to go

except in slow revolutions towards

the crest of the next slag heap.

Do you have trouble

in getting an erection?

- What?

- Can you get an erection?

- Yes!

- Masturbating much?

Constantly! I've got

a talking boil on my neck!

What would you do?

What does this mean to you?

"Are you ashamed of your false teeth?

"Put an end to the miseries of dentures.

"You could smile again with confidence.

"Just ask Barbara Simmons."

The boil said it a few nights ago.

Sounds like a particularly crude voiceover.

- Voiceover?

- The voice that sells.

If you're selling perfume,

it sounds like a lover.

If you're selling something

inedible you want people to eat,

it'll sound as stupid

as they'll have to be to buy it.

In this case, it would sound

like a dentist, someone in the know.

I see. So one could say that it's,

erm, the voice of authority?

Like, erm...

Well, like a parent's voice, almost?

If you like.

Has the boil spoken this morning?

Yes, I had a row with it, and it got

very heated when I refused to shave.

- Tell me about your parents.

- Not part of the plot.

As far as I know,

they were completely normal.

- I come from a completely normal family.

- Tell him about your grandfather.

That was the boil. Ignore it.

I don't think we should do that.

It's the first time it's spoken in front

of me, and it might be important.

It has nothing important to say. It is

destructive, self-satisfied and abusive.

- You cun...

- You see? Don't listen.

Come on. Fair's fair.

You've had your say. Now I'll have mine.

Don't listen to it! Don't listen to it!

Why don't you tell me

about your grandfather?

If you tell me, the boil might be quiet.

My grandfather was caught molesting

a wallaby in a private zoo in 1919.

- A wallaby?

- May have been a kangaroo. I'm not sure.

- You mean sexually?

- Suppose so. He had his hand in its pouch.

- F***ed it, didn't he?

- He did not f*** it!

Just... just lie back.

- What happened to him?

- He pleaded insanity and got three months.

Does the authoritarian attitude

they took with him upset you?

- No. He died before I was born.

- Do you sympathise with him?

If I had been stuck in a trench

for three years,

- I might do something stupid myself.

- Like showing affection for an animal?

- He'd f*** one.

- Shut up!

Ask Barbara Simmons.

He'd f*** her as well.

Oh, my God. How could the boil have

possibly known about my grandfather?

That means it can read my mind.

No, Mr Bagley, it does not.

We'll speak about that in a moment,

when we've had a look at this boil.

What you mean is you want

me to have a look at it. No.

What would you say if I said

that you don't want to look at it

because you're frightened

of what you might see?

I'd say you'd be absolutely right.

Isn't that trying to pretend

it doesn't exist?

Isn't that exactly what you're accusing

everyone else of doing?

Now, we must reduce

this guilt in two ways.

First, it must be physically

reduced with surgery.

And secondly, we must reduce

your punishing conscience

by refusing to allow it to hide.

Once we get it out into the open,

it'll be easier to fight.

And I'm certain that

by the time your neck's healed,

you'll be smiling at this problem

and be back at work.

Never. No matter what you reduce,

I will never go back to advertising.

Perhaps. But now, let's have a look

at this bully on your neck.

Just look at it in the mirror...

and tell me what you see.

Oh, God in heaven!

It's grown a moustache!

Oh, my God!

- Oh, my God.

- Yes.

- Yes?

- The bastard looks just like me!

What you must understand

is that it's not the boil

that can read you.

It is you, Mr Bagley,

that can read the boil.

You can read it because it is you.

At least, a part of you.

The boil knows what you're thinking

because you've projected

some of you into it.

You've given it the side

that you find intolerable,

the bullying, aggressive,

dictatorial side.

The side that sells toothpaste and soap.

You've decided that selling these things

is a bad thing for you to do,

and you are unable to accept

the guilt for what you feel you've done.

Therefore, you've transmitted

these qualities into the boil.

Perhaps, by doing this,

you hope to escape your guilt.

But you've created a symbol

of foul-mouthed authority instead.

Your very own Big Brother.

- Welcome back. My name's Debra.

- My head.

Come on. Let's sit you up straight.

Up we go. There we are.

- Have they done it?

- In the morning.

- You hungry?

- No.

I'll bring you something anyway.

There's beef burgers or fish fingers.

I can hardly move my arms.

I can hardly move anything.

Barbiturate.

They gave you a whopping dose.

You should have had the fish fingers.

Mouthwatering fillets

of young cod, matey,

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