Withnail and I Page #6

I:

Then they must be delighted with your career.

Withnail:

What do you mean?

I:

You rarely are.

[Withnail points the sword menacingly, although there is a cork on the

end.]

Withnail:

You just wait. Just you wait. When I strike they won't know what

hit them.

[He hears a noise from outside.]

Withnail:

Tractor approaching.

[He goes to the window and knocks his head on the lantern hanging from

the ceiling.]

I:

Then get after it. That's the man.

[They rush out of the cottage and pursue the tractor.]

Withnail:

Hey, stop!

I:

Stop

Withnail:

Stop

I:

Stop please!

[The tractor driver notices them and stops.]

Withnail:

Stop please! Please stop!

[They run up to the side of the tractor and address the driver, Mr

Parkin.]

Withnail:

Are you the farmer? [To I] Shut up, I'll deal with this. [to

Parkin] We've gone on holiday by mistake. We're in this cottage

here. Are you the farmer?

I:

Stop saying that Withnail, of course he's the f***ing farmer. [To

Parkin] We're friends of Montague Withnail, we desperately need

fuel and wood.

[The farmer shakes his head, bewildered.]

I:

Montegue Withnail, you must know him. Fat man, owns the cottage.

Parkin:

Ay, seen the fat man. London type. Queer sort. Think his name's

French or something.

Withnail:

French!?

Parkin:

Ay, Adrian de la Touche. He hasn't been up year for couple of

years. Last time I saw him, he were; he were with his son.

I:

Yeah, that's him.

Withnail:

Listen, we're bona fide. We're not from London. Could we have

some fuel and wood?

Parkin:

Ay, I could bring you up some logs later but I've got the cows

and that to feed first.

Withnail:

When?

I:

Shut up. That would be very kind of you. Erm, what about food? Do

you think you could sell us something to eat?

Parkin:

I could bring you up a chicken but you'll have to go to the

village really.

I:

That would be very kind of you Mr?

Parkin:

Parkin

I:

Mr Parkin. What happened to your leg?

Parkin:

Got a randy bull up there. Give me one in knee!

[They walk back inside. I claps Withnail on the back. Back inside,

Withnail removes his boots and places them in the oven attached to the

fire.]

I:

You want to get out the back don't you? Get some spuds up.

Withnail:

Sorry I can't. My boots are in the oven

I:

You'd go if you had boots?

Withnail:

Gladly

[Withnail emerges from the back door with polythene bags tied around

his feet. He walks into the garden and after a little unearths a

potato.]

Withnail:

I've got one!

[Later, the potatoes are peeled and ready to be cooked. I sits reading

'Journey's end' while Withnail dozes in front of the fire. I hears the

tractor once again and goes out to meet Parkin. He is there with some

logs.]

I:

Great. How much do we own you?

Parkin:

Pay us when you come down

I:

What about this chicken?

Parkin:

's on back

[Back inside I has left the chicken on the table. It is alive and

looks round questioningly. He nudges Withnail to wake him.]

I:

Oye! Oye! Parkin's been. There's the supper!

Withnail:

What are we supposed to do with that?

I:

Eat it

Withnail:

Eat it!? F***er's alive

I:

Yeah, you've got to kill it.

Withnail:

Me!? I'm the firelighter and fuel collecter.

I:

Yeah I know but I got the logs in. It takes away your appitite just

looking at it.

Withnail:

No it doesn't I'm starving. How can we make it die?

I:

You've got to throttle them. Withnail, I think you ought to kill it

instantly in case it starts trying to make friends with us.

Withnail:

Alright, you get hold of ir. I'll strangle it.

I:

I can't. Those dreadful, beady eyes! They stare you out!

Withnail:

It's a bloody chicken. Just think of it with bacon across its back!

Right, I'll deal with this. You'll have to get its guts out.

[Later, I is washing his hands in the sink having finished getting the

chickens guts out. Withnail enters with a shotgun and points it at I's

head.]

I:

Never point guns at people. Extremely dangerous. Now what about this

roasting dish? What are we going to cook it in?

Withnail:

You're the food and plummings man. I've no idea. I wish I'd found this

an hour ago. I'd have taken great pleasure in gunning this pullet

down.

[He pokes the chicken with the gun. It still has a few feathers.]

Withnail:

Shouldn't it be more bald than that?

I:

No it shouldn't. Right, we're going to have to reverse the roles. We

can bake the potatoes in the oven and boil this bastard over the fire.

[He tries to push the chicken into a kettle but it is too large to fit.]

Withnail:

Lets get its feet off

I:

No, it's going to need it's feet.

[He removes the chicken and takes it to the fire. Opening the oven, he

removes Withnail's steaming boots and points the the brick in the oven.]

I:

Straddle them either side of that.

[He sits the chicken on the brick.]

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A phonebox

[I is smoking stood outside the phonebox waiting for Withnail.]

Withnail:

I've already put two shilling pieces in. No I havn't got another.

It's not my fault if the system doesn't work.

[He emerges from the phonebox.]

Withnail:

B*tch hung up on me.

[I fishes around in his pocket and finds a shilling for Withnail who goes

back into the phonebox and dials.]

Withnail:

Hello. How are you? Very well. What! Why wouldn't they see me?

This is ridiculous. I haven't been up in a job for three months.

Understudy Constantine!? I'm not going to understudy Constantine,

why can't I play the part? This is ridiculous. No, I'm not in

London, Penryth. Penryth! Well, what about TV? Listen, I pay you

ten percent to do that. Well lick ten percent of the arses for

me. Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? How dare you! F*** you.

[He takes out his frustration on the phone, hitting it for a while then

leaves the phonebox.]

Withnail:

Bastard asked me to understudy Constantine in The Seagull. I'm

not going to understudy anyone, especially that little pimp.

Anyway, I loath those Russian plays. Always full of women

starring out of windows whinning about ducks going to Moscow.

[Returning from Penryth they walk accross a field. I is carrying some

shopping.]

Withnail:

What do you think to Desmond Wolf?

I:

With respect to what?

Withnail:

I'm thinking of changing my name.

I:

Too like Donald Woolfe

[He hands the bag to Withnail and opens a gate. It is clearly marked 'Shut

this gate']

I:

Here, changeover point.

[Withnail slams the gate behind them but it doesn't fasten. They see Parkin

on his tractor.]

Withnail:

Do you think he's happier than us?

I:

No

Withnail:

I suppose happiness is relative. I never thought it would be a

polythene bag without the hole in it.

[Parkin turns the tractor towards them, stops and runs towards them.]

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