Panto! Page #2

See ya.

You hadn't forgotten, had you, Dad?

Behave.

Have you seen Chesney Hawkes?

No, babe.

OK. I can do this.

I'm a pro.

Er! Argh! Aarrgghh!

What do you think of my costume?

You look like a knobhead.

Ta. It's all part

of being in a panto.

You're all knobs.

Who do you think you're talking to?

Show some respect. I'm your dad

and this is a serious place of work.

All right, Greg. This is our Paul.

All right?

All right.

You off to do your scenes?

Yeah! Ugh!

Look at that. You see that?

I'm a bloody artist.

How am I supposed to work

with substandard costumes?!

Come on.

Da-dah! How good is this?

Meet pop sensation and all-round

nice guy Chesney Hawkes.

Ches, this is our Paul.

All right? What happened to you?

Just a little slip. Chesney had the

20th most-bought song in the whole

of the 1990s. Oh, nice one.

Do you sing on the show?

He does, once or twice.

Four times.

I do write other stuff as well.

You should get my dad

to play it on his radio show.

Er... Yeah... Well, er...

"Act-one beginners,

come to stage, please."

Hear that? That means

rehearsals are about to begin.

I'm not thick, Dad. I was in

Dracula Spectacular at school.

I know. Sorry I couldn't make it but

it was Children In Need week at work.

And he had to sit in

a bath of beans for 48 hours.

Your mum said

you were really good at it.

Yeah, and she said the children

got what they needed most.

You in a bath of beans.

Johnny, this my lad Paul.

Good afternoon, young man.

Come to see your father treading

the illustrious boards? Sort of.

Sit in the front and I'll throw

some of these in your direction.

I'm not allowed to eat

sweets from a strange man.

I am bit an ordinary man

who trained at RADA.

And now finds himself

in ladies' clothing, false b*obs

and a pink wig, scraping to earn

a living. That's OK, then.

As you were.

You met Tamsin before.

Oh, god! He's so adorable.

Ah!

Your dad told me all about you.

Don't say that.

He'll be thinking that I like him.

What's your dad like, eh, Paul?

I love him really.

Miss Tamsin!

Get her, please.

I'm in demand. Missing you already.

Come on, darling.

It was only a matter of time.

You're going out with a dick.

That's not funny.

Come on.

Every city in every nation

From Lake Geneva

to the Finland Station

In a West End town,

a dead-end world

East End boys and West End girls

In a West End town,

a dead-end world

East End boys and West End girls

West End girls

West End girls

Now I'm back in Old London Town,

I'd best go find my West End girl.

And bring in the curtain.

Get off!

Ah! Cue Lewis!

Hiya, boys and girls!

Hey! Old London Town

is overrun by rats. If you see any

raisins, don't eat them, will you?

Er, sorry, sweetpea. We seem

to have skipped a page. Page six?

That's where I was

gonna do some stand-up.

Yep, I know, lovely,

but we do open tonight.

I need to see something,

even if it's not scripted.

It's audience stuff.

What's your name?

Where are you from?

Who cut your hair?

Well, OK. OK. Hit me with it.

You what?

We'll take it from your entrance.

Yes. Um-hmm?

Now... # West End girls

And Tamsin off.

And cue Lewis.

Yes.

Hiya, boys and girls.

How are you diddling?

Eh? Are you standing proud?

Sorry. Am I missing something?

That's me catchphrase on the radio.

It's Lewis Loud! Are you

standing proud? Kids'll love it.

OK. What then?

Then a bit of banter.

Uh-uh! Show don't tell.

Hiya, son. What's your name?

Francis.

Where have you come from, Francis?

Cambridge. Well, on the outskirts.

It's a long way to come for a panto.

I don't think it'll be that good.

Only joking. Have you

come with your mum and dad?

They're both dead.

Look, call me old fashioned, Lewis,

but I think we need

something scripted here.

To be fair, Francis,

I don't think there'll be

many kids coming with dead parents.

Oh, really? Well, we may

have children from orphanages.

Or care homes.

We may even have refugees.

Let's not open old wounds because

you have no material. Next scene.

Hmm?

Who likes sweeties?

Throw the sweets. Throw the sweets.

Turn to Dick.

Er, hang on a minute, lovelies.

Two tics.

Di, can he throw sweets

at the audience?

I'm thinking health and safety.

Throw bloody fireworks at them

as far as I'm concerned.

Just give them a good show.

Right. Carry on, please, Johnny.

Turn to Dick.

Well, hello!

Allow me to introduce myself.

I'm Dolly the Cook.

London born and bred.

And when I say "bred,"

I don't mean I'm full of dough.

Turn to audience, small titter.

I don't remember that.

There wasn't a titter in the script.

It's timing, darling.

Isn't that right, Johnny?

Yes, dear. Something

I learned at the Old Vic

in my early years

working with Sir John Gielgud.

"Rehearse the character, rehearse

the audience, rehearse the play."

No truer words spoken.

You don't spend a season

under dear old Johnny G

and not know where your gaps are.

Oh, right. So, what do you

think of my new dress?

I went shopping but the only

thing that fitted was a cubicle.

Laugh, laugh, laugh.

Now, you might have met my eldest.

Jack the Lad!

Are you standing proud?

I know I don't look old enough.

Come on, you're not

over the hill yet, mam.

No, but I've got a pretty good view.

Smallish laugh.

Walking towards Johnny.

Turns to audience.

Says line.

Are you actually going to

speak your stage directions?

It's bloody annoying.

When you're up,

hold the rail until your cue.

Let go, down she pops, hmm?

Sweetheart, I once bungeed off the

Tyne Bridge for Donkeys In Crisis.

This is chicken feed. Send me up.

Well, what do you think?

I have good fun. And, no, I don't

have a problem pronouncing my Fs.

Sorry, did you say you were

a Cock-er-ney? Not many, uncle!

Strike a light! Why do you ask?

I thought you was Norwegian.

Why?

Cos you got a face like a Norse.

Laugh, laugh, laugh.

You'll be lucky.

Better not stand

too near the orchestra pit.

The only pit

I want to fall on is Brad.

Now, that will get a laugh.

What's Angelina got that I haven't?

More to the point,

what have I go that she hasn't?

Wink. Big laugh. More like it.

Do they work you hard

in the kitchen? Oh, yes, non stop.

In fact, you could say

that they work her...

9 To 5.

Tumble out of bed

and I stumble to the kitchen

Pour myself a cup of ambition

Yawn and stretch

and try to come alive

Oh!

Jump in the shower

and the blood starts pumping

Out on the street

the traffic starts jumping

The folks like me

on the job from 9 to 5

Working 9 to 5

What a way to make a living

Barely getting by

It's all taking and no giving

They just use your mind

But they never give you credit

It's enough to drive you

crazy if you let it

The little...

9 to 5

For service and devotion

You would

Think that I

Would deserve a fair promotion

Want to move ahead

Get that little sod dancing?

I can't hear you.

Get that litter sod dancing.

Di?

Get the dwarf to bloody dance!

Argh!

Oh!

I'm OK. I'm OK.

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