Porridge Page #5

What? You've got up my goat

these last two weeks! Wrong!

I GET your goat,

I don't GET UP your goat!

I get UP your nose or ON your wick!

Just lately, you've done all three!

You never miss an edge, you! Running

around like Napoleon, drunk with power.

I've degraded myself, darning your

socks just to make your naffing team

We've been cellies a long time now!

If you made the team automatic, it would look

like favouritism! You had to prove yourself. I did!

I did more laps, more press-ups... But

I will NOT lace up everyone else's boots!

You're in! Everyone's wetting their

knickers just because of a few celebrities!

Don't you want to play, then? What? You're

in the team! Straight up? Centre back. Oh, ta!

You're changeable, ain't ya?

Who else is in?

Armstrong, Simkin, Rudge, Oakes...?!

Look, you're in the team

so don't quibble!

Everything you say, Coach! Who's captain?

Why? I wondered whether I was a contender.

A captain has to possess attributes

which set him aside from his team.

I've chosen Lightfingered Larry...

Urquhart? What attributes?!

Half an ounce of snout which

he's now given to me! All right?!

I must say, Mr Bainbridge, that's very

disappointing. The thing is, that, er...

Not many of the chaps in tonight.

There never are.

It's a desperate place, is this!

The only reason I come here -

it's either this or going home.

I'm single, myself. I WAS married,

divorced now. Oh, really?

Better to have loved and lost...

than to spend

your whole ruddy life with her!

Ach!

Same again, Chalky.

That was Mr Bainbridge, their team

Captain. We've lost David "Diddy" Hamilton.

Oh, dear.

We still have the Goodie, have we?

Well, he didn't say we hadn't.

It's been good for the prison.

They talk about little else.

And there's been a noticeable dropping off of violence

- apart from Banyard's nose.

Yes, it was a commendable idea.

Thank you! Thank you!

Ah!

Welcome, gentlemen. Our pitch is

round the back. Shall we drive on?

Here's the netball team,

where's the flaming football team?

Which one's the Goodie?

I don't recognise any of them!

Fletcher.

This is... er... Come along...

Mr Bainbridge organised the Showbiz

XI. How do? Actually, we're only ten.

Tony Macauley should have been here.

He's a songwriter. Do you know him?

No.

Oh.

Well... he didn't turn up. We'd best

get on. We have no floodlights,

not in the right places, anyway.

Mr Barrowclough will see you in.

Could we borrow someone?

One of your subs, Fletcher?

Yeah, but what about Mr Beal, sir?

He's as keen as mustard, he is.

Ye-e-s... I'll have a word with him.

Thanks! Thanks a lot.

Forgive me, sir,

but who the hell ARE they?

We understood there'd be a sprinkling

of celebrities! Chap with red hair?

Does the weather on Anglia TV.

A pair of scriptwriters

for somebody quite famous!

And Mr Bainbridge was in pantomime

at the Alhambra... Swansea!

Oh, I'll tell the lads.

They'll be right chuffed

Who are they, Fletch? A weatherman, eight

small parts and Widow Twanky! Now, get changed.

Excuse me. Is there a garage nearby? I've got to top

up the bus. The lads won't want to stop on the way back.

Half a mile down the road, in

the village, Esso station. Just...

Good. I'll nip down later.

Right! I'd better get changed.

...will commence in FIVE

minutes. Autograph hunting is not permitted.

You all right, Oaksey?

Yeah, yeah. I'm all right.

Right, lads, pay attention! I know you're

all disappointed that they're nobodies.

But the fact remains, they did come all this way to

give us a game. So, let's GIVE 'em a game and show 'em!

No rough stuff! What about Mr Beal? Oh, you

can kick HIM to kingdom come! But be subtle.

Oh, never mind. Go on, off you go!

Don't forget what I've taught you!

Don't let them panic you

into playing football!

SPECTATORS CHEER

I don't recognise ANY of them!

LOUD CHEERS AND APPLAUSE

CHEERING CONTINUES

What am I doing benched

with that pillock Oakes on the park?

You'll get on, son!

'Ere, have a snort of liniment!

Let's have a good clean contest! It's not a

boxing match! That's what I'm anxious to prevent.

Call!

Heads.

Right then. We'll stay as we are.

Urquhart?

Afternoon, Mr Treadaway. Fletcher. How's it

going? It's hard to tell ten seconds into the game.

Good dog. All right, dog. Good dog.

Which of them's the Goodie? He didn't come

but a weatherman did! He says it'll rain.

Oh, well played, Slade! Er... who is

that? Armstrong, sir. Class player, he is.

Yes, he's out next month. Pity, for our

next fixture. Yeah, he'll be right choked.

More games on the agenda, sir?

If this one goes without a hitch.

Good for morale.

What's that noise?

Just your dog peeing

against my bucket.

Bad dog! COME ON, Oaksey! Move!

Are you blind?

That came off HIM!

Oh...

I never touched it!

I think it's a message in semaphore!

I happen to be honest! Are you saying

I'm not? That's why you're HERE!

'Sink the Bismarck'!

HANDEL'S "MESSIAH" ON RADIO

Yes, Ives?

Oh... er...

Just to let you know, Mr Grout,

Slade 1- Showbiz XI 0.

Really

Callaghan takes a free kick. Rudge volleys, hits

Godber's cheek and bang! Straight in! No chance!

You did ask to be kept informed,

Mr Grout.

Better get off out there, then.

Have you been bribed, Simkin? No, I

haven't! Show an example, Fletcher!

I saw that! What?

I'm going to book you!

What's your name, Cooper?

Cooper!

Ooh, Jesus!

Cooper?

Oh, God.

Where does it hurt? My ribs... aagh!

Just there. Hurts there, Mr Mackay.

Er... is there somewhere I can

take a leak? Try the changing room.

WHISTLE:

BOOS & JEERS

All right?

I don't know yet!

Oh, gawd, I've only just sat down!

I hope it's nothing trivial,

I might get a game!

What is it, Oaksey?

Cartilage. I've had it before.

Get him off. Come on.

OK, Mac, set 'em alight!

I never touched him.

I know, mate. Don't worry.

Careful.

I'd best fetch the MO.

No! You're in pain, ain't ya?

He knows naff all about orthopaedics.

I'll have the early bath.

Come on, Fletch. The lads need

your strategy. All right, son.

WHISTLE:

CHEERS & APPLAUSE

Our ball! Corner kick! Come on!

Where are they?

How many fingers am I holding up,

Godber?

You can't fool me, sir! Er... five!

The lad's concussed. Someone go down

to the Plough and Sail for the MO.

I'll go! Don't be daft!

Right, let's get on! Corner!

It's a goal kick! Any more of that,

Urquhart, and I'll have you for dissension.

Not too tight?

No, it's all right.

'Ere, don't forget the specs!

Oh, yeah.

Get on the pitch, Jacko! Let Warren

go on! I want your strength upfront!

Corner!

All right, Len, get in here.

Sit down. I'll get water

to bathe your face.

No, you won't, Fletcher.

Oh, gawd! Look, we've seen nothin', have we, Len?

Seen what? I don't want nothing to do with this

Are you going to pretend

you didn't notice HIM?!

Notice what?

Take them with you!

You've got no choice, have you?

Oaksey, I'm not going anywhere!

You'll do as you're told.

Oh, bleedin' hell!

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