The Outsider Page #3

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- Sometimes as little as---

- Well, according to what they can pay.

You charge some people less - I charge

some people more.

But I tell them - you don't.

We consider there should be only one fee

for the use of a surgical instrument.

I cannot agree. I think there should be two.

Nothing - and too much!

You also have no degree, I think?

I have a degree - of proficiency.

I was referring to a degree of medicine.

Oh, an MD, eh? What does that

mean? "Mentally deficient"?

You'll gain nothing by insulting us!

Oh, no, no, no gentlemen! I have a

wicked tongue. I'm sorry.

Sir Montague means that... have you

ever been to a university?

Or walked the hospitals? Or studied anatomy?

Oh, yes, yes - I've studied anatomy.

Where, may I ask?

You may well ask.

In the stockyards of Chicago.

The slaughterhouse.

Are we to understand that you

started life as a butcher?

I never stood in the shop, and cut off large steaks

for men who were too fat already.

I was a poor immigrant boy.

And the stockyards were the only place where I could

learn how one joint fitted in to another.

Yes, gentlemen. The practical mechanics of anatomy.

Well, it's reassuring to know that at

least you've practised on cattle.

Now, look, Ragatzy. Most of us here really appreciate

your enterprise - and your courage.

Then why not do the theoretical

work as well, and qualify?

What?

Spend five years like a schoolboy, learning Greek

and Latin names for English bones?

And what happens in the meantime

to the little children that I cure?

What happens to the people

who's only hope is me?

You ask too much, gentlemen.

If you won't qualify, you must promise to

undertake no case without a surgeon.

Now what is this? The Society of Prevention

of Unemployment Among Surgeons?

It is our duty to protect the public

from unqualified practitioners.

Christ wasn't qualified.

He didn't require a degree to raise the dead.

Mr Ragatzy.

When you can raise the dead, we

will discuss the matter further.

- Till then---

- "Till then", what?

That's for you to say.

All right, why don't you tell your Royal College of

Surgeons to give me an honorary degree?

- An honorary degree?

- Yes.

There is no back door to the Royal

College of Surgeons.

Those who wish to enter must climb

up the front steps.

Or remain outside.

Huh. Will they keep me out where

they let you in'?

At least I kill my cattle with a poleaxe, never

my patients with a mistake.

Swine.

Swine, eh'?

Well, if we must descend to comparing each other

with animals, you know what you are?

Sheep! The whole bunch of you.

Follow the leader Sturdee.

Sheep! Baa!!!

Oh, er... nurse?

- Is Mrs Coates still here?

- Yes, sir.

- Will you get her for me, please?

- Certainly.

Ah, my little Coates. Come in.

Now look here, Mrs Coates.

I've cured you, haven't I?

Why, of course you have.

- What you getting at?

- Just this.

You cost me money. You're a poor

woman - you can't pay me.

So I don't see how I can possibly afford to

continue the after-treatment, unless---

Oh, Mr Ragatzy! You couldn't?

You know what it would mean.

You said yourself - I'd be lame again.

Unless you can find a patient rich

enough to pay for you both.

But I don't know no rich people.

Have you ever heard of a

Miss Lalage Sturdee?

No.

You will.

She lives in Hampstead.

I'm going to drive you there, right now.

While her father, the great "Lord Marble Arch"...

...is still in his Harley Street surgery,

failing to cure people.

Now, you will make her acquaintance. And you

will tell her what a genius I am.

Why can't you tell her, same

as you do to everyone?

Ah, because I want her to see somebody

that I have cured.

Now. I'm going to write you a

letter... of, er... introduction.

Goon

Oh, I just wanted to, please... if I could...

er, if you could---

- Not today, thank you.

- Oh.

Now, this is how it should go.

"A house stood on a little hill."

Te tum, te tum, te turn, te turn.

Oh, no. That's no good, is it'?

Well, play it again. Play the whole phrase again.

Oh, miss - I've got to see you. It's a

matter of life and death for me!

What are you doing here? I thought

I shut the front door on you.

Yes. But not the back, Miss Smarty!

Shall I send for the police, miss?

What does she want, Pritchard.

Please, miss - you must listen. It's about

someone who can help you.

He may be a crook and a swine but he can

cure people. He cured me. Look!

Went about on crutches for fifteen years!

That'll do, Pritchard.

Oh, lam so grateful to you, miss.

You see, he told me to tell you he's a genius, and

there's nothing too difficult for him to cure.

- So he---

- Whoa, whoa. Now try and tell us quietly.

- What are you trying to say?

- It's Ragatzy.

He's waiting outside now.

He wants to cure you.

Ragatzy?

You mean the fellow who's

always in the papers?

- That's right.

- The man with the patent stretching machine?

What? Did he send you here?

Yes, because that's what he cured me with - and he

wants you to see for yourself that it's true.

Lally, perhaps you ought to see him?

Oh, please see him, miss. For my sake.

Will he give you money if I do?

No, no - nothing like that. Look -

he'll sign this letter.

"L, Anton Ragatzy, guarantee to give you all the

after-treatment necessary for your leg"...

..."together with all the surgical assistance you need"...

..."if you can get me an interview

with Miss Lalage Sturdee."

And if you don't see him, miss - he'll

stop my after-treatment.

And I'll have to go back to being a cripple.

Oh, how wicked!

Miss... you don't know. You don't know

what it means to be a cripple.

- I... I don't?

- No, you're rich.

You don't know what it is to walk to

work when you're dog-tired.

You lie in bed all morning...

...then go riding out in your Rolls Royce...

...splashing people like me walking

in the slippery streets.

You don't really know what it

is to be lame, miss.

Not half, you don't!

You poor dear. Don't cry.

I'll see him.

You will, miss?

You really will?

Oh, thank you, miss. Thank you.

Pritchard!

Let her out, and show in the man

who's waiting for her outside.

Oh, God bless you, miss. God bless you.

Lally...

...wouldn't it be wonderful if he could?

Basil, he can't.

Father says there's no hope.

Oh, I'm only seeing him to

help this poor woman.

But if there's a chance, you should take it.

Don't you want to?

Want to?

My life's so empty.

I want it to be full of all the gorgeous,

joyous, happy things.

Oh, Basil.

What's it like to be able to move...

...one foot after another?

Just as easily as I can move my hands.

Oh.

If I could only dance so beautifully...

...that all the men were wild

to be my partner.

Dance until the music dances into me.

The lilt, the swing.

The love song.

Miss Lalage. The man!

Good afternoon, Miss Sturdee.

Good afternoon, Mr...?

Anton Ragatzy.

This is Mr Basil Owen.

- How do you do?

- How do you do?

Oh, er.

I understand you'll sign this paper

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