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# Once in every lifetime

# Comes a love like this

# Oh, I need you, you need me

# Oh, my darling, can't you see?

# Young ones

# Darling, we're the young ones

# The young ones

(RICK) # Shouldn't be afraid

# To live, love

# There's a song to be sung

# 'Cause we may not be the young ones very long #

(WIND HOWLS)

(ROCK 'N' ROLL MUSIC)

# The rhythm that gets into your heart and soul

# Let me tell you, baby, it's called rock 'n' roll...

# Well, we just don't know what's going to replace it

(MUSIC STOPS)

Vyvyan! You bastard!

Vyvyan! You've got no respect for property!

All right, what's the stair carpet doing on the fire?

Burning, what's it look like?

Oh, you're burning the stair carpet? Well, call me old fashioned...

Rick, where'd you find all that firewood?

Ah. Uh... Between my legs.

- Wish I'd thought of that. - I wish you'd done it!

- I might want children one day. - What a revolting thought!

Vyv, throw another record player on the fire.

- Certainly, Michael. - Bastards! That's my record player!

You said it was yours.

No, I said, ''Let's throw Rick's record player on the fire.

- ''That'll be good for a laugh.'' - Oh, yeah.

- It is yours, Rick. - Yes! Now give it back!

Oh, God...

My parents gave me that after my O-Levels!

And it looks like you failed them all.

That's not true! I got a B for French...

- Look, Rick. Rick. - I...

We're all completely broke, so we've got to make sacrifices.

I myself have generously donated my used tissue collection.

And Vyvyan has burned everything Neil owns.

Never mind that. I'm more interested in this O-Level business! I got...

Ow!

Sounds like supper's ready.

Neil, we're not having broken crockery again? That's my recipe!

I can't nail the plates to the table without breaking them.

Neil, Neil, Neil. Nails aren't in the recipe.

I'm not cooking. I'm just trying to nail the plates to the table.

Neil, is it really necessary to nail the plates to the table?

What happens when we want to play Monopoly?

''Go directly to plate?'' ''Do not pass plate - nailed down by a hippie?''

No, guys, you don't understand.

I've got something well scary to lay on you, OK? So, like, sit down.

What do you mean? There's only one chair.

Do we all put our bottoms on that and catch diseases?

- It's not important. - I think it is, actually!

I happen to be rather attached to my bottom.

- I've got seats in my car. - All right, we'll use them.

No, they're attached. You sit in them while you're driving.

I could drive the whole car in!

No, no. Better idea, we'll go out there.

Ah-ha!

No, wait. Guys. Guys. What about my scary story?

That's a point. We won't be able to hear Neil from out there.

- You'll have to make a tape. - No. My cassette's bust.

- (RICK) Well, come out with us. - No, there's only two seats.

- I could go in the boot. - No. If you touch my car,

- I'll kill you. Remember? - Oh, yeah.

- Neil. - Yeah?

(WHISPERS) Squat down.

Oh, yeah. Great idea, Mike.

Hey, guys, look, I've got something well scary to lay on you, OK,

so, like, squat down.

- Brilliant! - Yeah. Squatting!

Right on. Youth control. No rent!

- Now listen... - Neil, has this table shrunk?

That's what I've been trying to tell you, right?

Strange things are happening in this house.

Furniture keeps disappearing.

Plates keep, like, moving about the place.

The table is shrinking.

And last night, I found my guitar...on the fire.

- Do you know what this means? - Yes...

No, no... Yeah!

It means we've got a poltergoost!

(THUNDER)

Don't be stupid. There's no such thing!

Don't be such a spazmo, Neil!

There's no ghosts, there's no God,

there's a rational explanation for any phenomena you might encounter.

Yeah? How do you explain the table shrinking, then?

- Ah. Uh... - Well, I did that, actually.

Like this.

See?

God! Mike's floating! How's that done, then?

Yeah, you see? I was right! It's the poltergoost!

- It's making him float! - Aaah! Get a priest!

Get a vicar! I believe in God!

Never mind priests. Call an ambulance.

- Why? - I've nailed my legs to the table.

(THUNDER AND COUGHING)

- Sore throat? - Yeah.

'Ere, hold it. Prithee.

Art thou saying that Bacon wrote all of Shakespeare's plays?

- Yeah. - Which bit of bacon?

- His hand. - Bacon hasn't got hands.

Look, they found a manuscript in a packet of bacon.

Codpiece face!

- What did you say? - Codpiece face.

- What did you say? -Codpiece face.

- What did you say? - I said codpiece face.

- What did you say? - I said codpiece face.

- What did you say? - I said...

- Don't be evasive! - Oh, sod it!

Oi! Hey!

Let's go kick his teeth in.

Kick him. Ah! My foot!

(FARTS)

With Christmas only four months away,

imagine that this desktop is a crowded shopping street

on a busy Saturday morning.

Say, for instance, that this huge meringue filled with whipped cream

is a young mother loaded with her groceries.

And perhaps this enormous, soggy, overripe tomato is a little girl,

who doesn't realize what a dangerous place her exciting new world is.

And let's assume that this clingfilm parcel

of mashed banana and jam is a deaf senior citizen

who's in a wheelchair and is blind.

And this cricket bat with a breeze block nailed to it is your car.

Now, what happens if your car mounts the pavement?

Think once. Think twice.

Think don't drive your car on the pavement.

(HEADS SHOUT) Over here! Oi! Over here!

- Over here! - Over here!

No, no. That's a goldfish bowl. Put it down.

No, that's a grapefruit! Pick me up before this woman farts again!

(FARTS)

(GROANS)

Hello. I am your neighbour.

I know. You've been around here six times today already.

(LAUGHS POLITELY)

Yeah. Nice day.

No, it's not. It's snowing.

(LAUGHS)

Well, if you like snow and being really cold, it's a nice day.

Well, I don't, and you're letting cold air in. What do you want?

Um... Could I borrow... a cup of sugar...please?

Another one? How many's that you've had?

- It'll rot your teeth. - Yeah, I was worried,

so I had mine kicked out. These are Neil's.

Could I have my cups back sometime?

Uh... Yeah, yeah.

There you are.

You're not very comfortable, Rick.

No, I'm bloody not! Why can't you use Vyvyan as a chair? He burnt them.

Because I've been out gathering winter fuel.

- Look, another one. - Nice one, Vyv.

Guys, guys, guys.

Guys, I think I've solved our money problem.

I'm writing to my bank manager.

See what you think, OK?

''Dear bank manager...''

- Yeah? - Well, that's it.

- I'm quite pleased with it so far. - It's a strong opening.

I don't like the ''dear''. Sounds like, ''Please go to bed with me?''

Well spotted, Vyvyan. What do you think instead?

What about ''darling''?

''Darling bank manager...''

No, no, no, no! Not ''bank manager''. It's far too crawly bum-lick.

Tell it like it is, put ''fascist bully boy''!

- ''Darling fascist bully boy...'' - So, what do you want to say?

I want to extend my overdraft, but there must be a better way to say it.

Well, what about, ''Give me some more money''?

- ''You bastard.'' - Isn't that a bit strong?

- People like that respect strength. - You're right.

''Darling fascist bully boy, give me some more money, you bastard...''

- Uh... ''Love, Neil.'' - Not ''Love, Neil''!

That's like, ''Come and get it like a bitch-funky sex machine.''

Yeah, you're right. Uh...what about ''Yours sincerely''?

Oh, come off it! If you're going to be that sycophantic, go there now

and stick your tongue straight down the back of his trousers?

Oh, I know, I know. Why not put ''boomshanka''?

That's hard to tell. What does it mean?

''May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman.''

Ah-ha! And what makes you think your bank manager's a man?

His beard.

He'll never understand ''boomshanka''. Write it all out.

Right. Here we go. ''Darling fascist bully boy,

''give me some more money, you bastard.

''May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman.

''Neil.''

If that doesn't work, I don't know what will.

The trouble is we're running low on fuel. Vyv, chuck it on the fire.

- Where's my supper, Neil? - Coming.

Yeah, I could eat my own earwax.

And we know how horrid that tastes. Right, kids?

Mike, Mike, did we burn the sofa?

- Yeah, afraid so, Vyv. - I thought we did.

Right, Neil. We're ready!

Right. Here it is. Now, eat it up quickly, OK?

- What's this? - Uh... It's risotto, Mike.

It's snow, isn't it, Neil?

No, it's probably just gone cold, Vyv.

Neil, it is snow!

- It's risotto, Vyv! - I know snow when I see it!

It's all I've had to eat for three days.

- Well, it's very nourishing, Vyvyan. - Snow! I hate the sight of it!

- Don't you want yours, then? - Ah! I didn't say that, Mike.

Oh, God, this is disgusting!

Don't blame me. I didn't cook it.

- Can't we get decent food? - We've got no bread.

Well, why don't we get some bread?

Because, Vyvyan, we haven't got any bread!

OK, OK. This has gone far enough. House meeting.

House meeting! House meeting!

- Vyv, wake up Rick. - Rick, wake up!

(DANCE MUSIC)

(1ST GHOST) Oi, wilt thou just list, please?

Thank you. This is my body. That one there is yours.

(2ND GHOST) Just because this one's got a nicer bottom.

- That bum's got no rhythm! - I don't believe this! Look...

Down a bit. That's it.

You're exploiting the fact that we've been beheaded to grab a nicer bot!

- For sooth's sake! - We'll split the bottom.

- Down the middle? - Don't get aggressive!

- I am not getting aggressive! - You are, Rick. I can sense it.

I am not! Why does it have to be me who gets a job?

Well, it can't be me. I lead an alternative lifestyle.

Ha! You're about as alternative as Channel 4!

All right, let's look in the paper.

Vyvyan.

I'm sorry about that bang. I just fired a gun.

Here we are. Situations vacant, pages seven to thirteen.

- There isn't much choice. - Wait. What's this?

- ''Join the professionals.'' - ''You can have a gun.''

Ah, well... Now... Yes, well... That's me out, you see.

Uh... Perforated eardrum.

Really? Yeah, me too.

- Uh... Pardon? - Flat feet.

Well, that just leaves Neil, then.

What? No way! Why can't it be Vyvyan for a change?

Uh... Well, Neil, since you come to mention it...

Um...there is something I've been meaning to tell all of you

for some time... Um...

I went to see the doctor today...

and, well...I think I'm pregnant.

- What? - I'm going to have a baby!

- That's impossible! - That's what she said!

You just can't trust women, can you?

- But... But... How did it happen? - Come on, Rick. How old are you?

Well, that's rather a personal question!

Didn't your mother explain about the birds and the bees?

Mine did, but I didn't believe her.

Well, what if the bird got stung halfway through?

Well, there's a big size difference. Ostriches are really big, right...

Ah! Ah! Oh, no! The contractions are starting!

- Oh, no! - I'm having a baby!

Quick! Quick! Mike, get some boiling towels.

Rick, clean water.

Vyvyan, sit down. Take the weight off your feet.

- There aren't any chairs! - All the towels have been burnt!

Oh, no! We've got to buy some furniture for Vyvyan quickly!

We can't! We haven't got any money! Vyvyan's baby will be a pauper!

Oliver Twist! Geoffrey Dickens! Back to Victorian values!

I hope you're satisfied, Thatcher!

- Get some money very quickly. - There's only one thing for it.

- Neil. - You're right.

I've got to join the army before Vyvyan has a baby.

(CACKLES INSANELY)

I've just been round my neighbour's house to borrow a drill,

but he wasn't in.

So, I broke in and ate his fish tank,

and I wasn't even hungry.

You won't catch me with me trousers!

(WAILING)

- What time is it? - That's the 100th time you've asked.

Yes, and you don't tell me!

- Get a watch! - I've got a watch!

I'm just not very good at telling the time yet.

- The small hand's on the four... - (WAILING)

- How's it going? - I hate it! I hate it!

Of course you do. It's not finished yet.

It's finished as far as I'm concerned.

- At least I'm half fashionable. - What? You're 150% fashion!

The army can't say no to this suit.

- Thanks for letting me hire it. - It's somewhat on the snug side.

Come on. The recruiting office closes in one hour!

- Come on! - Don't tell them you're a pacifist!

I only said I was a pacifist!

Well, we're back to square one.

God! Look at this weather. You'd think it was winter.

Yes, a chap could lose his bearings in weather like this.

Hey! Do you see what I see?

(VYVYAN) Oh, brilliant! Neil, you're joining the police.

- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - Entrez.

Hello, I've come to join the police, but I shouldn't think you'd take me...

Hey, hey, hey!

Hey, aren't you Benito Mussolini, conqueror of Abyssinia

and former dictator of Italy?

No.

So, what can I do for you?

It's about joining the police, but I don't think I'm motivated.

Sure you are. There's only one thing you need to know to be a policeman.

Really. You have to be able to go, ''Cccch!''

(RETCHES)

No, ''Cccch!'' For when you talk into your radio.

You go, ''Cccch!'' You see?

Cccch! That's right! Cccch! That's right!

''Charlie, Tango, Teakettle, Barbecue. Cccch!''

- Cccch! - That's right! You practice it.

- If you can't, I kick your head in. - Fascist!

Si.

OK, here is the uniform. Take that,

and as you go out, watch out for the Special Branch.

What's so special about that?

I've got a degree in Computer Science.

Oh, yeah. That's quite special. Yeah.

It's been a terrible blow to my life looking like Mussolini, you know.

Especially when I was a kid. I was down the youth club, dancing away,

in the '60s, doing the twist, and this girl comes up and goes,

'''Ere! Are you Mussolini?''

I said, ''Um... Yeah. Yeah.''

She says, ''I thought you was dead.'' I said, ''It was just my day off.''

She pulled me over and butted me in the face!

She said, ''That's for the invasion of Crete!''

And now, Italy's contestant in the Eurovision Song Contest.

It's Il Duce with this year's entry. Take it away, Duce!

(RAPTUROUS APPLAUSE)

# Whenever people bother me

# When they shout and raise their voices

# I don't let it get me down

# I just make some stupid noises, I go...

# HuhI HuhI HuhI HuhI

# NiI NiI NiI NiI NiI NiI NiI

# WhizzI BongI WhizzI BongI

# Mrs GandhiI YahI YahI

# Yeeh-haI Ooh-ahI MigI MigI NogI NogI BlurrghI

# WurghI BlurghI NyaI NyiI

# YagI NagI WagI WagI BleeeuuurghI

# When your boss is giving you the sack

# 'Cause you've lost all his invoices

# Don't drink a bottle of sulphuric acid

# Relax, make stupid noisesI Just go...

# YoI YoI YoI

# MigI Nig-nogI WoggaI BlllllaI

# Miz-mogI BingI BongI Yickety-yickety wickI

# OohI FuhI FuhI Nickety-knockI

# WooI BongI Wiggly-wongI

# NooI NooI pigglyI Nick-nock, big-bock, rheumatism... #

You know, I have the most terrible craving

for a piece of fried lavatory paper.

Well, too bad. You finished the last roll last week.

(LAUGHS AWKWARDLY) Is there anything I can do for you, Vyvyan?

Um... Yeah. Kill yourself.

(LAUGHS)

I was wondering if you'd thought of a name for your baby yet?

- Shut up or piss off. - Oh, that's charming!

No, no, those are two names I'm considering.

They'll be very handy in later life for getting into fights and things.

Oh! Oh! It's kicking!

Urrrgh!

Oh, Vyvyan... Urrrgh...

Would it be all right to have a listen?

Yeah, help yourself!

You can hear it kicking!

I can't hear anything. All I can hear...

- That's my boy! - Help! My bottom's on fire!

That's very public spirited of you, Rick.

(RADIO ) Hello, pC13? Hello, pC13? Cccch.

Hello, pC13? Cccch.

Oh, wow! That's me, right?

Um... Right... Uh...

Cccch! Hello! Uh... Here I am.

What is your location, pC13?

Uh... Cccch! Well, I'm outside, right,

but like, don't worry, 'cause, like, everything's really mellow, OK?

68 Bryant Street. Get round there, smash it up, and arrest everybody.

Right, right. Cccch! OK. Here goes.

(MUSIC)

Open up! It's the pigs!

Open up! It's the pigs!

Uh... What's the matter, man? I was fast asleep on my bed.

- Oh, hello, Neil, mate! - Hi, Warlock.

Um, look... Uh... This is a bust.

Oh, nice one, man!

Hey! Don't flush the toilet!

It's cool! It's only Neil!

Hey, where'd you get that gear from?

Oh. Uh...down the police station.

Well, you had me fooled. I've eaten half my stash.

Warlock, this is very heavy...

No, man. We've got plenty more inside.

Come in. Take the tit off your head.

Come on in, man. Hey! Neil's come as Mr. Plod!

Right, listen, everybody. Go home! It isn't safe!

Take your stashes! It's not safe!

It's safe. This house is built on a ley line.

- Says who? - The wall.

No, listen, Stonehenge... No, listen, everybody, right.

Listen...

(MUSIC STOPS)

Right, listen... Oh, no... Steve Hillage.

Anyway, listen, everybody. I don't want to bring the evening down,

but, like, basically, you're all under arrest.

Look, everybody. Look what I've just found.

Hello, Earth. Can you read me?

This is Starship Captain Warlock from the planet Freakout,

broadcasting on the inter-galactic airwaves. Can you read me, Earth?

(RADIO ) We receive you. Do you require assistance?

Far out, man! Uh, yeah, we require ten assistants...preferably Swedish!

Yeah!

Oh, no! I should have stuck to rum punch.

(VYVYAN) Four kings, two queens and an ace.

Royal flush - five aces and a jack.

Look, do we have to keep playing this game?

Can't we play something that I'm good at?

- Come on, Rick. What have you got? - One three.

Damn!

Trousers.

It's strange that people with an R in their name only get one card.

- I lose every game because of that. - Trousers!

- Right. Another round? - All right.

Ow! Neil had better hurry up with the money!

We've got no food, no heat, no light. Now I've got a splinter up my bottom!

Don't worry. I've got everything sorted.

Oh! You've got everything sorted, have you?

What have you sorted? I suppose you've arranged for a lorry

loaded with everything we need to smash through the window?

(BRAKES SCREECH)

- (RICK) Bloody hell! - Brilliant!

- Sorry! Sorry! - (MIKE) I don't know what to say.

(DOGS BARK)

- It's a bloody game, eh? - What is?

- Chess. - If you have a nosebleed.

(BARKING)

Oh, no. Wrong house.

Yes. That's fine. Thank you, little old man. Have a large sum of money.

Go away quickly.

- Well, this was a piece of luck. - Frightfully good fortune. Cigar?

- Don't mind if I do. - This caviar's great, as well.

- James Bond smokes these. - Oh, no.

In desperation, the guys have turned into experienced furniture thieves.

Right! Woo! Woo! Woo!

OK, freeze! This is a raid!

Hi, Neil! Want some champagne?

Button your lip, chummy. You're on my manor.

- We've tumbled your game. - Pull up a chaise longue.

There'll be no chaise longues where you're going, Mikey boy.

- I hope you'll come quietly. - No. We're coming very noisily.

Yes. (SCREECHES)

Ow! Quick, get the stirrups! I'm going to have my baby now!

Look what your rough-arm tactics have done, fascist!

- Quick! Dial 999! Get an ambulance! - I can't watch this.

(NEIL) Oh, no!

(HUGE, PROLONGED FART)

Quickly, the keys to the handcuffs! I'm suffocating!

Uh... Keys to handcuffs...

(FARTING CONTINUES)

(FARTING STOPS)

Is it over, then? Congratulations, Vyv.

- Well, is it a boy or a girl? - No, Mike! No!