Original subtitles

Shoot on sight, says President.

On last night's television programme, Eddie at Large, Monsoon referred to

President Idi Amin as Fatty Bum Bum.

TV row over dog killing, Monsoon said.

It's a great shame. I offered to let him shoot my wife's dog and call it quits,

but he just kept on crying.

Ban drunken Antichrist, says Bishop.

Monsoon, Eddie.

Goodbye, Doreen.

I nearly killed myself in suicide hoax, says Eddie Monsoon.

TV comedy shocker is banned.

Too much sex and violence.

Too shocking even for Channel 4.

Just some of the headlines behind the enigma that is Eddie Monsoon.

The tip of the iceberg of an amazing portfolio of adverse publicity which

shame any man into the depths of alcoholic despair and drug dependency.

It was a decline into just such a state after Eddie's first British television

show was so cruelly scrapped.

a fortnight before transmission, that led to Eddie's readmission to this

particular institution.

His 17th visit in 18 months.

Eddie, in the interview granted to me by your mother, Eunice, she said, and I

quote,

At the age of 12, Eddie was a sweet boy whose only ambition was to work in an

old folks' home.

And yet you see at 28 you're a self -confessed drug addict and incurable

alcoholic divorcee, a bankrupt exile -stroke fugitive of five African and

American states, and you have court cases pending in various countries on

charges of tax evasion, sedition and bestial rape.

Now, what went wrong?

Are you disappointed that you failed to achieve your original ambition?

Eddie, does it hurt to talk about it?

How much money am I getting for this?

You've got a fag, will you?

Oh, yeah, I think I've got one somewhere.

Hang on.

OK.

You've got a light.

I wasn't... Mr.

Monceau! I wasn't going to smoke it, I promise. It was an accident.

I was just going to show him a trick.

Look.

Oh, you...

I think cancer of one lung is quite sufficient, thank you.

This is my nurse, Veronica.

They gave me an ugly old bat to begin with, but I signed a couple of checks

look what I got.

A real little cutie.

Isn't that right, Veronica?

Eddie, Eddie, are you all right?

Now it's time for flip -flop and flip -flop.

Hello, flip -flop.

Hello, Eddie.

Hello, Plip -Plop.

Hello, Andy.

Look, will you shut up? Shut up and keep still, for God's sake. You'll be having

like children.

Come here.

Right, then.

Hello, Plip -Plop. How are you today?

I need to go to the lavatory.

Wouldn't you like to sing a song first?

Only if it's my favourite song.

Flippity -flop and flippity -plop.

What a great idea.

Music maestro, please.

Flippity -flop and flippity -plop.

Flip -flop, flippity -flop.

Get away from me! Everybody, get away!

Get away! I've got a gun here and I'm not afraid of music!

quite a few pilots in South Africa.

Yeah. I was my fifth pilot for that particular company.

Oh, it wasn't made into a series?

It was shortly after it was made, three hours to be exact, that I'd left South

Africa. Ah, yes.

Amidst rumours of suicide.

That's all lies, Tony. I never committed suicide.

Well, what happened was this.

I got very drunk and thought stupidly that I'd be able to swim to Madagascar.

I must have passed out after a couple of minutes in the water.

Because when I woke up, I found myself lying on the beach.

So I dumped the gear, disguised myself as a nun, got on the wrong plane,

and found myself in Brazil.

That's an extraordinary story.

What did you actually do when you got there?

Luckily, I fell in with the old German expatriate crowd.

And that's when I developed my new quiz show, How Pure Was Your Grandpapa?

Didn't do much business in Brazil, but it was quite ahead in Austria.

But what about your considerable interest in South Africa? I mean, your

firm, your nightclub, Eddie's Sex Palace, and the Eddie Monsoon pet shop

I mean, what of them?

Well, I couldn't go back because of the legal position.

And then there was my wife, of course.

She was part of the reason I left in the first place.

Eddie Monsoon, um, broke my heart.

He had his faults, but I loved him.

He was the most precious thing in the world to me, ever.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Yes?

Oh, Damien.

How are you?

Mm -hmm.

Yes, I'm fine. Well, I am now.

No, don't stop it. I'm sorry.

No, Damien, I've got to go now. Yes, I've got guests.

It's Channel 4.

It's about Eddie.

It's 500 quid, love.

Right, I'll ring you as soon as possible.

He ruined my life.

But he was the only man I ever loved.

I think I could have put up with his relentless alcoholism, you know, his

cruelty to animals, the way he used to shout in his sleep, even his suicide,

know. But to turn up after 18 months, you know, heart of the blue, with a

accent and an Argentine passport, you know, after I had already remarried

Well, I had to divorce him.

Actually, I never really liked him.

It's an embarrassment, really.

Those dreadful programmes of his, as you know.

And the weather today?

Surprise, surprise, it's too bloody hot again.

But never mind, because here's today's Star Quiz.

Star Quiz, get to it.

All I want to know is who this is and the year, right? Here it comes.

It's a bit of a trick question, so I'm giving away this microphone to the first

person who phones in with the title of stranger on the shore.

Tiny Townsend.

Impresario and Eddie Monsoon's business manager from August 1982 to January

1983.

And when did you first get involved with Eddie?

Look, let's get one thing straight from the start.

I have never been involved with Eddie Monsoon.

And I have written legal statements to prove that.

Ah, but.

Never mind but. Never mind but.

You can't go around saying things like that.

I want to put this on the record.

I have never met any monsoon.

Hardly. And when I did, it was always in the presence of a third party.

Me and Tiny were like... We were like

that.

He was my best friend.

A bastard, of course, but a very nice bastard.

Now, you were saying?

Yes, I was trying to define the extent of your relationship. Hang on, hang on.

Just give us a blast for the level, will you? What?

Count. One, two, one, two.

Oh, one, two, one, two, one, two. Fine, we're in business.

Right, off you go and keep it nice and clean.

Of course.

Well, let me put it this way.

Have you ever encountered Eddie Monsoon in a social situation

with a third party present?

Uh, yes.

It was on, uh...

August

the 28th, 1981, at approximately 2 .30 p .m.

Uh, Eddie came to me with an idea.

It was very sick.

And now, remove the blades.

And it is immediately transformed into a simple and effective household drill.

Thank you very much.

But now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for...

Eddie Monsoon and his talking penis.

No, no, no, no, not this talking penis thing.

You call that tasteless?

Oh, no, this was... Look, I am not approved, right?

I have to admit that as regards taste, I have done a few things in my

time that juries have found disgusting.

I think that was the word.

But this idea of Eddie's made even me feel slightly

queery. What was this idea?

Suffice to say, the viewers would not like it, Tony. Did it have anything to

with seal pups and cans of spray paint?

What? Eddie says that you took his idea for spray painting baby seals live on

stage... I don't know what you're talking about.

and that you used it in the show you produced called Joseph and His Amazing

Psychedelic Fur Coat. Look, you promised me you would keep this clean.

Everyone knows I have done foul and perverted things in the past, but I

get away with it. I was knit.

I have done my time. Three years.

I have paid my debt to society.

I am a straight man.

I am clean. I am a reformed man.

So don't you talk to me about filth.

An affair with Tiny?

I mean, don't be ridiculous.

Well, it only lasted a couple of months, actually.

And, you know, I don't think anyone would have found out if Tiny hadn't

me that beautiful rainbow fur.

That, I think, was really what upset our hopes, you know, for remarriage.

But it didn't really bother me, because, of course, I had settled out of court

for a huge alimony from the first time round, you see, and then became a

lesbian.

Gin, Mr Bilbo.

Or can I call you Tommy? Actually, it's Tony.

Whichever you prefer.

Tiny can be very cruel, though.

I mean, I liked that danger routine.

It was a great act.

I loved it.

But who was it that had to go to the hospital every night and get stitched

Me.

Look, look, you can still see the scars.

Oh, dear, yes, yes, yes.

Sorry.

Sorry, I just felt like it.

Of course, you kept me virtually anaesthetised with drugs.

It was an accident.

Now, you were Eddie's manager for a period of 17 months.

No.

What do you mean, no?

I mean, no. No?

Yes. No.

Ah.

I mean, that agreement was rescinded on the grounds of my diminished

responsibility.

I've got the papers to prove it. But that doesn't mean you weren't Eddie's

manager, does it? Yes.

All right, let me put it another way.

Are you trying to tell me that you never made any money out of Eddie?

Er...

Yes. You can't be serious.

Next question.

You never made any money out of Eddie? I don't want to talk about it. Not a

penny? Nothing.

Come now, Mr Townsend. Look, I've already told you I never made any money

Eddie Monsoon.

But, Mr Townsend, we all know... That's it. End of interview. Go on. Get out.

All of you, get out!

Look, the only money I ever made out of Eddie Monsoon was when I sued him.

Well, he's a manic depressive, you know.

Perfectly all right and controllable when he's severely depressed.

But as soon as he gets happy, well, he's very violent.

Are you trying to say that he's a naturally violent person?

Well, there's some medical term for it.

But, well, let me put it this way.

He's an absolute mess.

I mean, you can't tell what he's really like because he's always drugged out of

his head.

Either on the stuff he gets for himself or stuff the doctors give him. What is

he actually being treated for?

You really want to know? Yes.

Well, there's the asthma. Let's start with the mild ones, eh?

Asthma, epilepsy and congenital syphilis. Those are the ones he was born

Then there's the recurrent malaria, beriberi and dengue fever. Those are the

African ones.

His liver's shot to pieces.

I mean, he's got chronic constipation and congested piles, neither of which

helped by the fact that his rectum keeps prolapsing.

Mind you, I mean, I personally think he enjoys that.

Because, I mean, he keeps giving himself coughing pits just so that it drops

out. I mean, I said to the doctor the other day, I said, give him a shoehorn,

let him get on with it.

Anyway, to cap it all, he has got the big C.

You know, you've got to...

It is ironic that Eddie's first pilot for a British television show, recorded

a studio just three miles down the road from this hospital, should have been

entitled Back to Normal.

Good evening, you. Good evening, you bastards.

My name is Eddie Monsoon, and this is my first British television show.

This is my bottle of scotch, which is Scottish.

These are my cigarettes.

I don't know where they come from.

Probably out of a machine.

Let me tell you all a bit about myself.

My hobbies are drinking, smoking, swearing and grass shooting.

I am not a cripple and I do not believe in self -control.

I hate soft drinks.

Right thing drivers.

Everyone who lives on the Isle of Wight, blind people, last orders, and stupid

hard -faced cows who say they'll do it, then don't even when they're pissed.

Yet more muscle seems to have been given to the clean -up television campaign

recently, following the withdrawal of yet another programme before

on the grounds of the extreme sexual and violent content.

In the studio tonight, we have Mr Michael White, the executive producer,

Eddie Monsoon, the host of the programme, Back to Normal with Eddie

The star.

Sorry? The star of the programme.

Yes, I'm sorry. I'm a star, not just a bloody host.

All right, I'm sorry. I swear, I'm sorry.

I couldn't help it. I'm just so tired.

I haven't slept since Thursday.

Really? Thursday the 16th of January, actually.

The day you banned my television programme.

Look, I'm sorry, Eddie. What do you have to go and do that for, eh?

What have I ever done to you?

Why do you have to go and ban it just like that? My first ever British

television programme.

Look, Eddie, I told you.

It was purely a production decision.

I just don't understand.

It was... I'm in Channel 4. It's THE channel for child porn and homosexuals.

I had both in my show.

Listen, Eddie... So why'd you have to go and ban it just like that?

Eddie, if you really want to know... Yes, I do!

Then shut up and listen.

The only reasons we had for not transmitting Back to Normal with Eddie

are that it was obscene, libelous, and, in my opinion, an offence to humanity.

Yes, well, that seems to be, uh...

A fairly direct and honest summary of Mr White's position. Mr Malmsteen, what do

you say to that?

Shut your face!

What? Name me one thing, just one thing in that entire programme that you find

offensive.

The item about how to get big things in your mouth.

Is that all? We could have cut that.

The things you said about Burt Reynolds. The bit about stiffies.

The cruelty to animals.

All right, enough!

Enough!

Look, Michael, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Luke. I promise it won't happen again. Just give me another

Please. Please, Michael, just let me have a TV show of my own.

I'll do anything for you.

I'll give you a blowjob.

Anything. Please, Michael.

Michael, come back. Let me give you a... I love my TV.

I can't live without TV appearances.

I haven't seen myself on TV for months now.

I know Tiny's got a lot of my old South African shows on tape.

Mr Townsend, come on, Mr Townsend. Just a few more questions, please.

And what about the pirate videos we found on sale, which were just

tapes of Eddie's various television shows, being sold under the name Video

A registered subsidiary of Tiny Townsend Limited.

Now, how do you account for that, Mr Townsend? Look, I do not know what a

is. And my name is not Tiny Townsend.

Not legally, anyhow.

Oh, dear, you've crashed your car, Mr Townsend. That's a bit silly.

And what about the pirate records, Mr Townsend? And the gross mismanagement

misappropriation of funds from the Eddie Monsoon fan club for sick people?

Tell me, Eddie, what is it that makes you the man you are?

Charisma, Tony.

I've got bags of charisma.

Yeah, but what is it about you that makes people want to exploit you? I

you've got no particular skill, no particular talent.

Talent is only a stumbling block, Tony.

What I've got is fame, charm, charisma and legend.

You're a total unknown.

That's a perverted lie, Tony.

I could go to any high street in this land and the people would go crazy.

Excuse me, mate. Excuse me.

It's your lucky day, isn't it? What's that for, then?

Guess who you're speaking to.

Guess who I am speaking to? Yeah.

I've got no idea.

Who the hell's Eddie Monsoon?

What does the name Eddie Monsoon mean to you? Nothing at all.

Nothing. Perhaps you know my name.

No, I don't.

No?

What do you mean, no?

No, I haven't heard of it.

Perhaps I could ask your dog.

Excuse me.

Perhaps you've heard of Eddie Munster?

Yes, yes, I have. I've really heard of him. There we are, you see.

What do you think of my TV shows?

I haven't seen them, as a matter of fact. Sorry.

Ah, you probably haven't got a television then.

Three.

Never heard of you.

What? Why doesn't anybody in this bloody town recognise me?

Don't you recognise me, you bastards?

Why don't you love me?

I want to go home.

Stop it, I want to go home now.

Do you recognise any monsters?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yes, yes, he recognises me. And you're not my father, are you? No, I'm your

uncle.

How much money did you say I was going to get for this?

It's still being negotiated, Eddie. But about that much, exactly.

Well, a little bit more than 3 ,000, Eddie, but it's really the producer's

department. With that cheque or cash?

It's nothing to do with me, Eddie. I've told you, it's the producer's

department.

When do I get it?

Get off my blanket! Look, Eddie, I don't know. Ask Sarah. She'll be in later.

I don't know you're going to pay me. Eddie!

You mean I have to trust you?

Tony, Tony, I tell you what, you could pay me in scotch.

That's not much, is it? Ten quid or something.

Well, still, you can get all the film you want and then kill me just to get

of paying me.

That's probably what you'd do.

So get me some scotch, you bastards, or I'll stop talking.

I mean it.

I want some scotch.

I'm going to stop talking now.

Yes, I hear that.

Yes, Eddie.

Hello, Eddie.

I've got you a present.

Look.

Shall I open it for you?

Oh,

Eddie.

Look, it's your... favorite mother mother

thingamajig motorbikes

eddie come here

i'm over here hello

Haven't seen each other for 18 months.

Isn't there anything you want to say?

Oh?

I had diarrhea yesterday.

Oh, Eddie.

Same old funny old macaroni.

It's my aftershave. It's very nice.

Are they looking after you well?

They've broken my arm and my leg.

I'm sure they know what they're doing.

What is the matter, darling?

I've been sick.

The scotch will get rid of the taste.

I'm sorry.

I have to go, Eddie. I have an appointment.

I love you, Eddie.

And by the way, you're behind on the payments.

Last night, Eddie seemed very happy.

Very calm, very relaxed, very drunk.

He'd had a traumatic day.

In the morning, he'd cut himself on the knee quite badly while shaving.

His lunch was ruined by the news of the death of Tiny Town Dent after a week in

intensive care after a car accident.

Then, of course, in the afternoon, there was the difficult reunion with his

estranged wife.

But after her departure, Eddie cheered up. We drank heavily, and we

talked openly about many things.

I left him at 3 .22 in the morning, and he was burbling on quite happily

about drug abuse and sexual perversion.

When I got here this morning, this is what I found.

The mindless violence reminds me of the final paragraph of Eddie's unpublished

novel which he called The Vivisectionist.

I feel sick.

I don't know where the fuck I am.

I think I had too much to drink last night.

My life is like a red lion full of drunken Irishmen and gaming machines.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.

Give me another scotch, you bastard.

Well, Eddie's disappeared.

And the only clue that the police have is a photograph taken by an amateur

photographer of a raid on a chemist in Chingford this morning at 7 .29.

Could this be Eddie Monsoon?

And now the end is near and I'm looking at a

curtain.

my friend I'll say it clear stay my case of

which I'm certain I've lived a life that's full of travel each

and every highway more than this

I did it my way regret

I've had a few.

Well, I have had a few, I can tell you.

And now, the end is near.

And I'm facing the final curtain.

Hello, friends. I'll say it clear. I've stayed my case.

times the time.