Ricky Gervais: Out of England 2 - The Stand-Up Special Page #9

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I mean, I take first-class

flights everywhere.

I know you wouldn't

have it any other way.

I do it for you, really.

Some of the flights I take

cost 10,000 pounds, okay?

And for 10,000 pounds,

in a disaster

I expect the front end of my plane

that I'm in to gently break off

and float down

to a desert island.

It doesn't.

I'd die with the rest

of you f***ing loss.

That's not fair, is it?

I know you'd try to save me,

but you couldn't.

We'd just be on the news.

I'd probably be the only one who'd

get name-checked on the news.

You'd be "230 others,"

which is some consolation.

But anyway...

So, okay.

Once I was flying back

from New York...

9:
25, a Saturday night,

J.F.K. to London Heathrow,

b.A., first class.

Okay, now this is my point.

It's fear that threatens

rational thought, I think.

I'm there.

Now the whole week

leading up to that flight...

I don't know if you remember it

or it's happened

more than once.

It was a couple of years ago.

On every news channel

in America

there was a rolling tickertape

that said

"America on red alert.

We've had intel

there's going to be

another 9-11

in a major city,

probably New York or L.A.

this weekend.

Do not fly unless

you absolutely had to."

I had to.

I was filming.

And...

( Laughs )

Right?

So I'm the only one

in the first-class lounge,

and I still tried

to remain rational.

I was thinking,

"No, it's safer now.

Everyone's looking

for a terrorist today.

They'll leave it

till Monday."

Right?

And then it happened... the thing that

threatened my rational thought.

I had a little... a bit

of a mini-breakdown.

Into the first-class lounge,

about 30 minutes

before boarding, came this guy.

I don't whether

he was north African

or Middle Eastern or Asian,

but he had all the gear, right?

Beard,

steel attach case, okay?

And here's your

middle-class liberal.

I went...

I was suddenly engaging staff

in banal conversation,

going, "Flight on time?"

They're going, "Yeah."

"What's the weather like in London?"

Like they were gonna go,

"It's a bit cloudy, but... There he is!"

Right?

Didn't happen.

So I'm left there, right?

I'm looking over at him

and I'm thinking of all the...

The running up to it

and the week coming up to...

All the news and everything.

But now there's a fight

between good and evil,

between rational

and irrational.

This one goes, "Ooh,

that's a suicide bomber."

"Oh, don't be stupid.

Of course it isn't."

"It is."

"How do you know?"

"That's what

they look like."

"What?"

"Beard."

"Don't be stupid,

all right?"

Then he makes a phone call.

I couldn't understand

what he was saying,

but he sounded a bit angry.

This one goes,

"Oh, he made a phone call!"

This one, "No, you just made

a phone call."

"Yeah, but not

in foreign."

"Shut up, all right?

He's been checked.

Like the rest of us,

he's been checked."

"Did they check the beard?"

"Yeah, they checked the beard.

Yeah, they checked

the beard."

Then I'm looking at him...

Must have been absent-minded

with all this going on

in my head.

He catches me looking

and he does this.

It goes, "Oh, he knows,

he knows!" Right?

This one goes, "No, he knows

why you're looking at him.

He's had that prejudice for months now.

Stop looking at him."

"Ooh, the beard."

"Yeah... " Right?

But this one starts winning.

The fear starts beating all the

rational thought in the world.

It starts going,

"No, but it could be."

"Well yeah, it could be.

Probably not."

"Well, no.

The stats are up today."

"Yeah, but still,

it won't happen..."

"Don't say it won't

happen to us.

The people of 9-11 said

it wouldn't happen to them."

"Yeah,

but all the tests..."

"Yeah well, they find new ways

of getting through

our detection.

Then we have to up the game."

"Yeah, you're right."

And suddenly I thought,

"Oh my God, this is it. This is it."

That wave of nausea,

and you suddenly realize,

"Oh my God,

I'm witnessing this..."

this one goes,

"Okay, right, let's report him."

This one goes, "No."

"Why?"

"In case someone think

we're racist."

"No, f*** that.

Let's report him

and be a wrong, embarrassed,

live racist,

just in case."

And I go, "No."

So I don't.

And so now I think

he is a suicide bomber.

I think I'm gonna

get on the plane and die,

but I'm not gonna do

anything about it.

I'm nearly in tears.

And all this happens

in a few moments.

I look over and he's joined by

his wife who's got all the gear

and his two little girls.

And I suddenly go, "Oh, of course

he's not a f***ing suicide bomber.

If you're off to see

72 virgins,

you don't take

the wife and kids along."

Right?

So... No.

I got on the plane, and of

course he wasn't a terrorist.

I was a bit embarrassed and

I saw the funny side of it.

I was relieved and everything.

He was a businessman

and a family man.

He was playing

with his two little girls

who kept running up and down

and banging into my chair.

He wasn't doing anything

about that at all.

Nothing about that at all.

He was chasing 'em and they were

squealing really high, going through...

After half an hour,

I was hoping

someone would blow the f***ing

plane up, to be honest.

But a really weird thing

happened during that period.

I got so paranoid

about terrorist attack

that I started taking

private jets

and helicopters everywhere,

just because I was so rich.

No no.

No.

No, again, my philosophy was

I'm the only person

on this plane

and I definitely

haven't got a bomb,

so we're all right, you know.

I was taking

a helicopter one day

and I was waiting

on the helipad.

Rewind two days before that.

I'm at home, having my

cereal, my cheerios,

and there's

a carton of milk there

with the missing person

things on the back.

And I've seen

a thousand of them.

This one was different because it was a

missing child, which is always sadder.

Well no, it's sad

when anyone goes missing.

But presumably,

because of her age,

this was an abduction

and, you know.

It was also the language.

It was a plea from the mother.

It was the wording.

She just said

the name of the little girl,

which I won't say.

I remember it, and the day and

place where she was last seen.

And she just said,

"Five years old,

blonde hair, blue eyes,

always happy.

Please help me."

And it must have

stayed with me.

Two days later, I'm there.

It's like a wharf development,

waiting for this helicopter.

And I'm looking down

onto some disused

warehouse space.

I look in one, right?

Someone had put up

a brown blanket

with this duct tape.

It was like a curtain.

And it had fallen away

and I can see in.

This is a true story.

It's an empty room

apart from a mattress.

And on the mattress is a little

girl with her hands tied.

And my f***ing heart...

Five years old, five years old.

Blonde hair, blonde hair.

Blue eyes, blue eyes.

Always happy,

crying her eyes out.

What?

It... it couldn't

have been her.

I left it.

Thanks very much.

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