Passport to Pimlico Page #3

- Yes, sir.

You'll be back.

Miramont Place. Now, come on,

step lively, all you aliens.

- Belgrave Road?

- No, lady, we're going to England.

I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't expecting you.

Wix, it seems that my last visit here

failed to make any impression on you.

Or am I mistaken?

Perhaps you did receive

Head Office sanction

to admit the press

to one of our strongrooms.

No, sir, but it...

it all happened so quickly, I...

You've answered my question.

That's enough.

I don't wish to pursue the matter.

I shall have to advise Head Office

to arrange for your transfer

to one of our country branches.

Transfer? Oh, no, sir.

L...l could never settle down

anywhere else.

This is my home.

I... I've lived here all my life.

I was born here.

In Burgundy.

You can't throw me out

of my own country.

Don't be absurd, man. If you seriously

think that an obscure part of the law...

Obscure or not, legally,

this is Burgundy.

Head Office no longer has

any jurisdiction over this bank.

This is my bank.

I reckon two pounds will cover this.

Hey, how many in your litter?

You need 40 ration books for that lot.

Ration books'? This is Burgundy.

Burgundy!

You still got that blouse?

- Fiddling coupons, then?

- Coupons? This is Burgundy.

Ah!

What do you want to queue for?

This is Burgundy!

Now, then, now then!

Five to two, Full Moon.

Now, come on. Who wants a bet? The oldest

firm in Burgundy. What's that, sir?

Yes, your export department.

This is Burgundy.

Burgundy! Burgundy!

Drink up, Mr Wix.

Where's your patriotism?

Sorry, but I've just been making

a rough estimate of our national assets.

Crowns and ducats

to the value of18,200.

Pitchers, goblets and ewers

to the value of...

- What's ewers?

- Mine's a pint.

That's very good.

Anyway, I estimate the total

to be somewhere

in the neighbourhood of100,000.

Cor, that's about 1,000 nicker apiece,

ain't it?

- I'll send Charlie to Eton.

- I'm gonna have a saltwater aquarium.

Just a minute.

I doubt whether individual claims can be

made to treasure vested in a community.

Oh, I knew there'd be a catch in it.

Whatever happens to the treasure,

that piece of land is ours.

I think I know what's coming.

Well, why not?

It's part of Burgundy now.

About time we gave the kids a break.

We can have a go tomorrow.

Let's turn the old static water tank

into a swimming pool, for a start.

Hear, hear!

- Here's to the Burgundy Lido!

- Hear, hear!

All very laudable, no doubt,

but where are your returns?

The real benefit to the community

would be some scheme

for stimulating local trade

- and launching new enterprises.

- That's what I say.

Time, ladies and gentlemen, please.

Here, what do you mean, time?

Where do you think we are, in England?

No licensing laws here, my lad.

Isn't that so, Mr Garland?

Yeah, that's right.

We close when I say.

Not even a music license?

You heard what the gentleman said.

- He's better than Hutch.

- Much.

Oh, Mr Hu...

- How about a breath of fresh air?

- I think it's a bit too hot for walking.

I I don't want to set the world

J On fire

J I just want to start

J A little flame in your heart

J In my heart I have but one desire...

Not bad, that boy of yours.

He'd be worth 20 quid a week to you.

- Yeah, I'll put him up a dollar.

- Hark at him.

A dollar rise for the poor little perisher.

Skin a maggot, you would.

- You keep a civil tongue in your head!

- Now, then! Now, then, now, then!

- What's going on here?

- Nothing you can do about it, cock!

That's right. You've said it right.

You're in a foreign country now, Ted.

Drink when you like.

Right. Mine's a pint.

Spiller!

Clear this place.

Go home, all you people.

You're suspended from duty.

Right, I'll have another pint.

I'm going to take proceedings

against you, Mr Garland.

Your identity card, please.

Passing of betting slips

strictly prohibited.

Come to think of it,

I shan't need this any more either.

That's the stuff. Scrap 'em all.

Stop it! Stop it, you idiots!

Mr Wix, you're a responsible man.

Can't you do something?

Certainly.

- This is a job for Scotland Yard.

- Whitehall 1212.

J Knees up, Mother Brown

Knees up, Mother Brown

I Knees up, knees up, get those

knees up, knees up, Mother Brown...

'...question of Pimlico. No.'

'The Minister's out of town.'

'Hello?'

'Pimlico.'

'Put this call through

to the Home Office, please.'

'Yes, Pimlico.'

'No, Burgundy.'

'Pimlico.'

'Clear the line. Priority call.'

Back again, sir?

Mr Straker of the Foreign Office.

- Have you been here all night?

- Hm.

- What's this Pimlico stuff?

- Top priority.

- The old man wants immediate action.

- Well, what are you gonna do?

Well, I thought that as the treasure

was originally spoils of battle,

- I'd pass it on to the War Office.

- Oh, they wouldn't touch it.

You see, technically,

these Burgundians are aliens.

Aliens? Well, then, it's your pigeon.

No, no, they're undesirable aliens

so it's your pigeon.

I suppose you'll have to boot them

out of the country.

Yes, but it's their own country.

- There's your ten, Dad.

- All right.

Black market eggs!

Black market butter!

Lovely black market butter!

Come on, ladies!

Give the old man a treat! It's lovely!

All the grub you want

for a pre-war breakfast!

Nylons! Genuine stolen nylons!

Guinea a pair! Fully fashioned!

Get these lovely nylons!

Come on, ladies!

Turn it up! I'm coming!

- Good morning, Mrs Randall.

- You gone barmy? It's Sunday.

Special delivery.

Two dozen boxes export silks.

That's right. Come on, let's have 'em.

Black market bacon!

Off the ration!

Hey, off the ration! Black market bacon!

Come and get your bacon!

- Mind your back, Ma.

- Hey, no parking here!

Who says so?

- Hi, you, get moving.

- Get out of it.

- Oh, it's like that, is it?

- Go on, you silly old slob.

- Hawker's license.

- You want to make something of it?

- Go on, sock him one, Harry.

- We'll see about that.

It's no use, Ted.

They've all read the papers.

Here comes Mr Pemberton.

Go on, get out of it!

We're gonna start digging here.

What's going on?

Looks to me like the annual outing

from Dartmoor.

Ah, don't worry. I'm seeing to it.

Just going to ring the nick.

- Ah, the Chief Constable of Burgundy.

- Sir, about last night...

You'd better get yourself a new uniform.

This area is out of bounds

to the Metropolitan Police.

- What?

- Yes, Mr Pemberton.

Home Office has just confirmed what

you were all shouting about last night.

It was a bit of nonsense.

We'd all had a few.

Yes, and Whitehall's got the headache.

And until they can decide

which department is responsible,

our orders are to keep out of Burgundy.

And in the meantime, I suppose, nobody

cares if we all get our throats cut?

I'm sorry,

I'm just telling you the position.

Oh, we're not having that.

We've all paid our rates.

We're entitled to police protection.

Gregg. Who?

Pemberton of Pimlico.

No, sir, no. Nobody can help you

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