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The inspiration for this screen play is yes....you guessed it, one of my Useless-ex-Boyfriends. 

  I must have had a severe case of `Diminished Responsibility' , when I got with him.  I definetly had one after. 

 So please do enjoy! You do know that It's all made up....... of course?


Characters: 3 pig farmers, a Bell Boy and 1 Dutch tramp.

The three Farmers'.

All the Farmers' live and work, in the Lake district, Cumbria.  All the Farmers', have lived and extremely insular lifestyle.  All attended Primary and  Secoundary school together and all failed miserably, academically.

These are not intelligent men.  All followed their Fathers' (like their Fathers' before them) into the family business's (pig/sheep farming) they are all millionaires.

Because the farmers' have spent their entire lives, own their own with their animals, sll are devoid of social skills. As well as having no knowledge of anything, they have no interest in anything.  They are totally ignorant and have no concept of culture or other cultures. 

They dislike  and distrust anyone, who  is not from their village (paradoxically everyone in their village hates them) and have a deep seated hatred of Southerners.

PIG FARMER 1-The Chicken.

This 36 year old ex-pig farmer, who's real name is Saunderson Turner, has been nick  named `The Chicken', by Des after kentucky Fried Chicken fame. Chicken is an only child  aand a virgin. 

in 1990, while out illegally shooting wild Boar, with his father, Des and Peter, there was a tragic, freak accident.  Chicken witnessed his father being killed by the Boar.  In his grief and depression, Chicken never went back to work again.  He let himself go.  he didn't shave or wash and began eating compulsively.  Presently Chicken is so morbidly obese, that hw is signed off on `Disability benefit'.  Consequently, Chicken hates himself yet paradoxically, in his own way,  he is happy doing this to some degree. Chicken sits on  the Internet, all day, everyday.  The only other dynamic in his life, is that he systematically endures, endless ribbing from Desmond.

  Chicken's Mother (who he lives with) is the archetypal, sweet old lady.  She is 70 years old, 4 ft 2, has white set hair and wears clothes reminiscant of  the 1950's.

  Their little stone cottage, is set in the spectacular beauty of the Lake District.  There are window boxs full of flowers and lace curtains at the window.  once inside the cottage, it is quintessentially English.

  Chicken and his Mother are devoted to each other.  They never leave each others side.  She attends his every whim and basically treats him, as if he were still a small boy.  She over compensates, for not only the loss of his father but the fact that he witnessed it.  She thinks the sun shines out of it.


Even though he is a millionaire, the most important thing in Peter's  life is money. All Peter's idiosyncracies are related to money. 

 Similarly, like the other Farmers' Peter has not really experienced life; Peter does not own a passport and has never  been out of the country.  Peter is not a good consumer of alcohol.  He has never taken drugs or been promiscuous.  Like all the men in their district, Peter does not know the first thing about women, or how to treat them. Sheep has been his life.  Peter refered more affectionately, to his sheep, than to his wife.  consequently, she just ran off, with a young sociology under-graduate, who was doing a thesis, on the socio-economic impact of the `Foot and Mouth Outbreak'.

  the young under-graduate, swept her into bed and gave her the orgasim, that she always wanted.

  This situation totally emasculated Peter.  He repeatedly states, that he will never trust another woman and that `They will only be after my Pig fortune anyway'. Peter is bitter, angry, bad tempered, rude, arrogant, emotionally inadequate and a total misogynist.  He does not associate his past behaviour, with  his currant situation now. he prances around the village, in his traditional Pig clothing, unconsciously trying to attract a mate.  He believes himself  to be part of the gentry and tells everyone, that he was educated at  Cambridge.

Even though Peter has just spent a  month in the local pub, He didn't manage to speak to anyone. 

PIG FARMER 3-Desmond Martin Sainsbury. The main character.

Desmond  was given the middle name `Martin', by his conscientious, intelligent, enlightened, warm and beautiful Mother in 1968, after the Civil Rights campaigner.

Ironically des inherited nothing, either from his Mother or Dr Luther king.  Des openly  admits to `Not being very nice'.

Des is a very, very bad tempered, racist, homophobic, male chauvanist bigot.

  Ay 18 stone and pure muscle, Des resembles a Silver back Gorilla.  He is the original Neanderthal Man.  Des is barely literate.  His language is course and punctuated by `For Fucks sake'.  Des is a convicted (on many occasions) `Dangerous Driver', having already killed someone.  He has been banded from every pub in the Lake District, for fighting.  des has led and leads everyone he ever knew astray.  He  has made his Mother's life hell.  She is addicted to sleeping tablets. Des has a penchant for spawning illegitamate children.

Des loves Chicken but only purpose in life, is to make Chicken's life  hell.  Des continues to play  never ending; devious and cruel, practical jokes on him (much to the distress of both  of their Mothers'.

When Des laughs, he looks like a lunitic; his eyes bulge, he turns bright red and he displays a full expanse of teeth and gums.

The 3 Pig Farmers' together are like theBurmuda Triangle; that is deeply unfathomable, disturbing, dark and scary.


The Tramp is 60-ish.  he does not speak English and hates British tourist's.  Consequently He revels in taking and collecting, memorabilia  from them.

The Tramp is the archetypal tramp.  His clothers are horrifically dire. His boots are his main feature.  The soles  of his boots are kept on, by amillion elastic bands.  His eyes are beady and deep set.  his teeth are horrendous.  His hair, is a matt of long, grey, couse stuff, sticking out everywhere.  The tramp has an outlandish companion in his dog.  the 2 of them look the same.  the dog's coat replicates, that of his owner.  The Tramp and the dog are spiritual soul-mates.  they have an almost elepathic relationship and they both have the same, ethereal look in therir eyes.  they are glued to each others side.




After the pig Farmers' third trip to Borough Market, London, Des has a heated discussion with one of his customers, about holidays and travel. Des puffs out his chest and proudly states that he has no passport and no desire to travel past Morecambe Bay. The customer’s facial expression, displays his shock and surprise at Des's ignorance. As the stunned customer walks away, Des dwells upon his own insular philosophies and the conversation with the customer. After brooding away on the discussion for 2 hours (while vigorously chopping up a pig) Des begins to feel intimidated and emasculated by his, cultured and cosmopolitan customer. Des leaves his stand (at its busiest and midway through serving an uptight city banker; much to the banker’s amazement) and walks briskly, to a trendy travel agents, in Park Street.

Once inside the Travel Agents, Des starts to twitch with nervousness and doesn’t know what to do with his massive bloodied hands (which he hasn’t washed) The young, thin, gay, blonde, very pretentious and Beckham-esque travel agent, looks up from his desk and recognises Des from the Market Immediately. After a couple of seconds, the travel agent breaks into a devious smile, as he praises the law of Karma and relishes the prospect of complete retribution.

(Des had served this travel agent, two peasants last Saturday, for a fancy dinner party

that he was throwing. The travel agent, presumed to ask Des if he was `Eligible for any

discount’ seeing as he worked in the market. Des made a point of quickly telling him to

`Fuck Off, Ya Queer Bastard’ in front of a large array of toffee nosed customers.

The toffee-nosed customers flock to Des's stall every weekend because they

love quaint `street theatre’ and find it a novelty. The Young Travel Agent

however had to suffer the indignanty, of everyone laughing in his face. He

was mortified and fled back to his shop, distressed and devastated for the

rest of the day, by Des homophobic remark)

Des (not remembering the travel agent) begins to enquire rudely and crudely about booking a holiday.



What holidays you got?


Excuse me Sir?


What holidays you got lad?


( Quietly bemused for a couple of seconds)

We have thousands of holidays…Sir

Des stands uncomfortably in the shop. The Young, Gay,Travel Agent , keeps his eyes on Des smiling continually. All the other staff in the shop, sense the tense vibe and stop what they are doing. They watch Des and the young man, with interest. A couple of the girls nudge each other and whisper in each other ears, as they slowly start to realise, that Des, is the guy that upset their colleague so badly.


                        Where would you like to go Sir?



The travel agent stares at Des intently. Des starts feeling more and more uncomfortable. He looks at his hands which are bloodied and dripping on the oak flooring. The staff watch with horror, as the blood drips on the floor. Des’s body language begins to portray his increasing unease. The staff continue to watch him. Just then one of the other girls (who has been in the lavatory, because she is pregnant) walks back on to the shop floor. Before she even notices Des, she startles, grounds to a halt, sticks her nose in the air and inhales deeply. The smell from Des’s overalls, hits her like a ton of bricks. She screws up her face in repugnance and loudly exclaims;


Bloody hell! What’s that appalling stench? It’s like rotting flesh.

                       It’s sickening!!!!!

All the other travel agents look at her with sympathy. Then as if to convey their empathy and solidarity, they all look straight at Des and give him filthy looks, for making their esteemed colleague feel sick. Des is speechless and embarrassed, for the first time ever. Suitably pleased;


It’s this gentlemen Laura. He works in the market…selling

           meat, fish, poultry and game.

Des shifts uncomfortably on his feet and runs a rough, calloused hand over his sweaty

brow. Unwittingly, Des leaves a smear of blood across his forehead. Laura catches her breath in disgust, at the smear. The Young, Gay,Travel Agent , is doing his best to prolong the agony of the embarrassing silences. He knows exactly what he is doing, striving to achieve his goal, of the complete emasculation of Des.


God it’s putrid. Sorry I’m going to have to go out side.

 I’ve never smelt anything like it, in my life …….it’s evil…

                              it smells like death....argh!

All the staff sympathetically tip their heads to the side, as they observe their colleague leave the shop. Instantaneously they look back to Des and give him MORE filthy looks. Des looks at the staff and uncomfortably shifts his feet again. Slowly he is beginning to suffer and get nervous.


Sorry Sir, what was it you wanted again?


 An holiday lad….a fucking holiday.


Now, now Sir, there is really no need to swear in front of

            the ladies. Now where would you like to go Sir?

Des starts to panic, he feels as if, there’s too much information for him to cope with. Des’s face portrays his ignorance and indecision. His eyes dart back and forth, as he realises that he has never been abroad before and doesn’t have a clue where to go, what to do and where to stay in ect. He isn’t even brave enough to hazard a guess because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. Des is stumped. The Young, Gay,Travel Agent , smiles sincerely, as he studies Des’s blank face. The travel agent knows that his rewards are not far off. The travel agent begins to smirk.


   Europe? Asia? the Americas? Australasia? …………….Africa? ………

the South Pacific Islands? Or perhaps even Wales, would be

          suitable for your tastes..... (pauses) Sir?



Are you taking the piss lad? Even I know Wales is shit.

That wanker on the cheese stall is from Wales…have `ya

            seen him in those sandals?

The girls (who are sitting behind the Young, Gay, Travel Agent) giggle. The Young, Gay, Travel Agent himself, pauses to stifle a giggle on the back of his, soft, manicured hand (disastrously letting down his guard)

Des momentarily looks pleased with himself and manages a brief smile but then practically straight away, his face drops and he continues to look blank and intense, at the Young, Gay, Travel Agent. The Travel Agent looks down to his desk, in order to try to compose himself. When he has composed himself, he looks up at Des. The Young, Gay, Travel Agent, continues to give Des a seriously, penetrative look, as if to insinuate, that he wants an immediate answer from Des, about where he wants to go. Des senses the vibe. One can tell he is panicking by the sweat that is beginning to roll down his forehead. The Young, Gay, Travel Agent, continues to look at Des. He raises his eyebrows, anticipating an answer. Much to the Travel Agents joy, he can actually watch Des’s thought processes in motion.

Des looks down at the floor and whispers to himself, questioning;



Not knowing where it is . All the travel agents watch him intensely.

Then out of no where (making everyone jump)



Europe! that one!….I’ll go there. That’ll do lad, book me that

                       one eh?

As the Young, Gay, Travel Agent, drops his eyebrows, Des exhales (relieved) wipes his brow and smiles looking really pleased with himself. The girls’ in the background, look at each other suitably impressed.

Des relaxes. Immediately his shoulders comically drop, a full ten centimetres.


Excellent choice Sir……


Thanks lad

(he says nodding proudly to himself, while puffing out his huge chest majestically)


…Where exactly Sir





I said…..where exactly? Sir


Europe…..I told ya


Yes you did Sir but which country?

Des looks horrified. He has been humiliated. He panics, as he can’t think of any European countries. Des quickly surveys the shop and sees a poster on the wall for the Florida Keys, Key Largo to be exact. (Des points to the poster)


That one there lad….Key Large-oh

(Des pronounces Key Largo,` key-large-oh’)

All the girls’ in the travel agents, giggle again. Des wrinkles his brow and stares at them puzzled, wondering why they giggling at him.

The Young, Gay,Travel Agent (unable to help himself) laughs out loud. Des gives him an evil look.


I’m sorry Sir, Key Large-oh, isn’t in Europe, it’s actually in

Florida Sir….that’s America Sir…..…that’s the USA


Sir....that's the United States of America…… Sir

                    and it’s pronounced Key Largo….Sir not `key- large-oh.

Des blushes, opens his mouth and is just about to loose his rag, when; Laura (the pregnant staff member) attempts to re-enter the shop.

She opens the shop door, by literally a millimetre, sticks her nose in the air and sniffs.

Within a nanosecond she is once again repelled by the stench.


Urgh..it’s got worse! It’s got worse! I can’t sit in here with that

                       stench! I’ll have a bloody miscarriage!

With that Laura slams the door and is back out on the pavement again. She remains out on the street, in front of the shop. She has a face like death. Laura wraps her cardigan around her and continues to stare impatiently, in to the shop, at Des. If looks could kill,

he’d be dead. It is freezing outside and she is desperate to get back into the warmth of the shop.

We watch Laura silently from inside the shop. Laura is greeted by the man who works next door, in the shoe re-heelers. Benevolently, the man has come out of his shop, wanting to know what is wrong and why she is standing outside. The two of them enter into a silent conversation. While rubbing her belly (like only pregnant women can) Laura points directly to Des inside the travel agents. The man from the shoe re-healers, wipes his dirty hands on his apron and folds up his arms and then shakes his head and tuts at Des, in a derogatory fashion. (while still in silence outside the travel agents) a client of Laura’s passes by outside on the street and stops to ask Laura if she’s ok. Laura looks at her watch and shivers and then once again points inside the shop. Now; Laura, her customer, and the man from the shoe re-healers, are all standing there with their arms crossed, belligerently, silently and solemnly staring in at Des.

Des does a brief double take at them from over his shoulder and just allows them a fleeting look. Des is too thick to realise it’s him that they are starring at.



Do you want to go to the U.S.A Sir?


No way! I might get blown up by one of them terrorists….

                        What’s his name…somit to do with a bin….Nay lad, don't put

                         me on a flight to America, I don't want to die.

The Young, Gay,Travel Agent s mouth drops open. Under his breath and in reference to what Des has just said, about not wanting to die;



Des just about catches what the Travel Agent says. Des’s face contorts up with anger and he menacingly, slowly, edges forward, towards the Travel Agent’s desk.


What was that you said lad?


(gulping with fear and visible sitting upright)

I said sneeze. I’m going to sneeze.

The Travel Agent then performs the most unconvincing sneeze in the history of the world.

Des folds his arms up, unconvinced of the sneezes authenticity and starts to look fed up.

The Travel Agent’s colleagues giggle.


So let’s start again Sir. Exactly what type of holiday are you looking for?


Type? All holidays are the same aren’t they lad? You stupid or



(blushing and flaring his nostrils)

                   No Sir, they are not all alike. What type of holiday would

you like? For example, do you ski? Would you like an adventure

holiday? a beach holiday? Diving in Egypt? A cultured city break?

We have a great yoga, meditation and detox spa retreat in Bhutan,

available at the moment ? or a hill walking holiday? Do you think

                    you would be suited to that?

Des’s face turns sour. The Young, Gay,Travel Agent, gulps with fear, as he watches Des’s reaction and realises he may have crossed a line.


Now you are taking the piss. Do I look like a twat who wants to go

on a walking ‘oliday? Ask the twat from the cheese stall, he’ll

probably go on that one. Mind, he’d have to get rid of those sandals

                  and buy some proper, decent walking boots....

(under his breath)


 (Des then spins around and points outside to the street)

Listen lad, there’s a pavement out there that I pay for, with my tax.

If I wanted to spend a week walking! I’ll do it outside on that street,

(pointing to the pavement)

for NOWT! like a right silly bugger and what the fucks a Beetang,

detox spa? Somit to do wi’ sticking pipes up ya arse! Lad, let me tell

ya something, I live near Sellarfield, I’m practically radioactive!

No amount of fucking spas are going to detox me! You southerners

are a right bunch of Nancy Boys!……..Now are you going to book me an

holiday or what?....Hell fire, it’s worse than going t’ dentist,

trying to book an holiday in London…God give me fucking strength!

The Travel Agent courageously gulps deeply again. He is wondering if he is brave enough, to seek his fleeting opportunity, for revenge.


I know what would be good for you Sir…


(Raising his eyebrows by way of questioning)

Aye, ya do? do ya lad?


Yes Sir. A cultured city break…in Amsterdam. You will love it Sir.

One of the girls who is sitting behind, The Travel Agent, spits out part of the banana that she has been eating, in alarm, at her colleagues bravery. Another girl,who is doing a booking over the phone,grinds to a halt in shock. She spins around on her swivel chair and looks up at her colleague concerned.

The Young, gay, Travel Agent (while looking over his shoulder at his banana-spitting-colleague) gulps again, as Des very slowly and menacingly starts to walk towards him.

The Travel Agent looks back to Des. The whites of The Travel Agent's eyes are exposed, in fear. The girls in the shop (and the 3 people who are still outside, lean closer to the window) suddenly;


Aye lad


(in shock)

Sorry Sir?


I said aye lad! ya deaf or what. Get me one of them then, quick

as ya can Like. It be for three people… Now lad….I’ve got to

ask you something. There won’t be any paedophiles, poor or crippled folk

there, begging for owt, will there? Cos I can go to Woolwich any

day o`week, if I want see that kind of thing and I’ve heard stories about

them Gary Glitter types, noncin at kiddies bottoms…..And I don’t wana

                go, where there’s FLIES..

(Des leans in menacingly close, to the Travel Agent. The Travel Agent sucks in air, scared senseless)

Cos I hate flies me!…hate em little bastards!…. I hate them…err!

Des shivers and shakes his shoulders in repugnance, at the thought of them.


I can imagine that you do Sir.


I can’t be doing with none of that.

(Des leans even closer to the Travel Agent, who looks even more afraid)

‘Cos lad, ya know that they give ya, diarrhoea……….flies

(Des looks momentarily embarrassed. He has a quick look around the shop, to make sure, that no one else is listening. Then by way of explaination Des says)

Well that’s what me Mam told me....... Anyway………..What about the

                  food lad?

The Travel Agent proceeds to study Des, He is absolutely mesmerised, by him. It is

almost as if, he is in a trance, enchanted and perplexed by Des's Neanderthal persona.

The Travel Agents mouth,falls wide open. Then with out thinking what he is doing or saying and in agreement and mimicking Des, in the same northern accent;


Aye, they’ve got food there... like.

Des double takes and then eyes the Travel Agent suspiciously, at his minic. Des tips his head to one side.


Are you taking the piss lad?


Nay..I mean, certainly not Sir!

The Travel Agent shakes his head violently, trying to correct himself and jolt back into reality.

Des eyes the Travel Agent suspiciously. Des doesn’t look happy but he can’t work out

whether `The Lad’, is taking the piss or not. Des edges even further forward, towards the Travel Agent. When Des is directly in front of him, he places both of his palms, flat on The Travel Agents desk. The Travel Agent, leans as far back as he can, in his chair, terrified.

Des leans his full body weight on to the desk and moves perilously close to the Travel

Agent. The Travel Agent, is now shaking in his shoes.


Ok lad, but remember what I said…no benders, no beggars, no

                      cripples and no flies.

The Travel Agent nods his head, barely motionless as he considers Des’s insular, homophobic and xenophobic philosophies (his face is a picture) nether the less, the pretentious, Young Travel Agent, books the three Pig Farmers' on a long weekend to Amsterdam, in the most expensive, most prestigious, most pretentious and camp over the top, hotel in the whole of Amsterdam.


(Bravely, too bravely in fact)

They have pigs in Amsterdam Sir and a great market, so for you,

                     this will be like a cultural PIG exchange.

Des ponders the thought and toys with the idea. After a few minutes, He slowly smiles

and looks pleased with himself.

The Travel Agent has insinuated a slightly different connotation, but this is lost on Des’s inferior intellect.


Aye lad…your right…I like it. I’m going on a `cultural pig exchange’.

I like it lad…….(thinking) come to the stall on Friday and I’ll give

you some offal for ya tea. Ya need building up. You’re a right skinny

little runt. You need meat on ya bones lad. You’ll never get a lass looking

like that.

With that Des turns on his heel and walks out of the travel agents, smiling ear to ear, like the lunatic that he is.

The Young, Gay, Travel Agent, looks devastated by Des’s last remark. He numbly and blindly looks down at some paper work, on his desk.

As Des walks out of the travel agents, passes the pregnant woman Laura. Laura takes one look at Des and throws up in the gutter.

Des glances back at her briefly, before walking speedily back to his stall.

The men who are standing with Laura, the man from the shoe re-healers and Laura’s customer, shake their fists at Des and shout out after him.

Des takes no notice of them at all. Des's face conveys nothing.

Two of the other girls from inside the travel agents, rush out, to help Laura back inside the shop. Laura hobbles in weeping, aided by her concerned colleagues and the two men.

The Young, Gay, Travel Agent, takes no notice. He is lost in thought, still devastated by Des's last remark. Slowly He begins to shake his head. After a while, the Young, Gay, Travel Agent starts to look pleased with himself. So wrapped up is he in his fantasises about how the ignorant pig will get on in Amsterdam, that he forgets his pregnant colleague completely. After a minute or so, He swings around in his swivel chair, to face the girls. He waits a few seconds, until he has their full attention, before saying;


That Pig Farmer, is the most ignorant peasant, that I have

ever had the misfortune to meet. I’d be ashamed to call myself

British,if all my country men were like that. Thank God we live

in one of the most tolerant, liberal, generous and integrated societies

in the world. His one thick and ignorant pig, literally ….Argh girls!

I’d love to be a fly on the wall in Amsterdam, I really would.

It's Samsara all the way for him.........pig!

All the girls in the shop nod silently in agreement, as they all look tenderly at Laura’s bump. Laura looks at all her colleagues thoughtfully and then looks back down at her baby bump. Laura lovingly rubs her belly.

The scene ends there and then fades (through the travel agents window) to follow Des,

who has left the Travel Agents and is now walking back through Borough market, returning to his stall.

Once Des arrives back at the stall, it is really, really busy. Des takes no notice of the long queues of customers, who are waiting to pay and no notice of his staff (who all look

stressed and harassed because it is so busy)

Des (in the middle of all the mayhem) flips open his brand new mobile phone and dials Chickens number. As Chicken answers, Des is not self conscious in the least, that everyone is voyeuristically listening in on his phone call. Des shouts irrationally into the phone.

80% of the customers that are queuing to pay, jump out of their skins, alarmed at the loudness and brashness of his voice.


Chicken `ya fat bastard, pack `ya case, that’s if you’ve got one big

enough, to incorporate all ya big cloths. We’re going `ont

holiday lad.


To Chickens bedroom, in his Mam’s quintessentially English cottage in the Lake District. Chicken is sitting at his computer desk, surfing the net for porn sites.

The audience will keep seeing large breasts (and nothing else) keep popping up on his computer screen. Chicken looks hideous. He hasn’t bathed, because he can’t tear himself away from the computer. His hair is long, straggly, dark, greasy and in a middle parting. Most of his face is covered in a straggly beard. He has bad skin, which is greasy and spotty in places. He wears grungy massive cloths (he cant buy much else because he is so fat)

Chicken’s bedroom room looks like a cross between a cab office in Romford and an army barracks dormitory. He has ancient pictures of Samantha Fox on his bedroom walls. In one of the posters, the word `Lesbian’ has been scrawled across Sam’s forehead.

Chicken answers the phone and immediately sighs with disappointment as he realises it is Des.


Chicken ya fat twat, did ya hear me right lad?

Chicken sighs with bitter disappointment and aggressively flicks a toy soldier off his computer desk, in a fit anger.


What now? You’ve already rung me six times and its only midday…

I told ya, I’m not gonna access that web site….ya can’t tap in the word

`Uranium’ in to the internet anymore. look what happened last

time I did that….me Mam aint forgiven ya for that one. She

had to explain all those men in black suits, to all the

neighbours. It were embarrassing.


Chicken, ya fat twat…move on lad! Forget that fucking

`uranium business’, it were ages ago and anyway we’re going on

‘oliday lad. I bet ya looking at a big old pair of ladies tities right

now ain’t ya? You’re a sick, fat, twat.

Chicken clicks on the mouse with his right hand, to get rid of the image of a pair of breasts, that he has been looking at.


I’m right ain’t I lad?

Chicken ignores Des.


Ya still there? `Ya aint put the phone down on me, have ya Jabba?


Just then a merchant banker, on Des’s stall (with an Oxford English accent) picks up a

mallard and holds it high in the air;


(looking at Des because his seen him on TV)

I say, can you give me some expert advice on how to cook a Mallard?

Des just ignores the customer and carries on talking to Chicken. The Posh Bloke, Merchant-Banker-Type, looks taken-a-back, by Des’s rude behaviour. He is totally unused, to that degree of rudeness. The Banker pauses for a few seconds before trying again.


Excuse me, can you tell me if this bird, was a male or female?

Des looks at the Posh Bloke baffled. Des screws up his face in amazement, at the stupidity of the question.


(talking to Chicken)

Hang on Chicken lad, I got a right fucking wanker here like.

Des looks at the customer, like his mad. The customer looks at Des like his mad.


What d’ya want man?


Did you just call me a wanker?


Nay. I called you a banker..........well ya are aren’t ya?

The Posh Bloke just looks very, very vacant. He can't believe Des has insulted him again. The Posh Bloke, nods his head a little.


Yes, yes…….but


Yes lad? get on wi' it.......I ain't got all day....sometime this year

it's Christmas.

The Posh Bloke, stays silent, just gawping at Des (he can’t get over being called a wanker and Des's brashness)


Spit it out man…..I told ya, I cant wait on you all day…I’m too

fucking busy.


I said….how would I know the sex of the Mallard?

Des immediately goes back on the phone, talking to Chicken.


Hang on will ya Chicken lad

(then addressing the customer, really aggressively)

What was that ya said?


I said, the sex…how do I know the sex of the mallard?


(looking thoroughly bored)

Why would you wana know that? Ya David Attenborough?





Pick it up and sniff its arse…If ya don’t like it, buy a Fucking

pigeon, ya posh twat..............(under his breath).......fucking


The Posh Banker can’t believe his ears. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. The man stands there his mouth open, paralysed with shock, still holding `The’ mallard in his hand.

Most of the other customers, who are waiting to pay, start laughing at him.

Foolishly the Posh Customer, suicidally proceeds to ask Des for a discount.

Des pretends not to hear him but he grimaces, trying hard to control his temper and not bite.


Chicken while at the other end of the phone, is left just looking at it, unable to understand

what is going on in the back ground.


I’m sorry are you ignoring me?


Yes, I am. Now fuck off I’m busy,before I break ya ribs………

( then trying to mimic the Posh Blokes accent Des says)

What sex is it? What a joke! What’s that got to do with the

price of fish....go on `Count Down' and do some numbers, if you

want something to think about....what sex is it?! Banker, fucking wanker.

Wasting my time! Talking a load of nonsense.

With that Des strides over to the Posh Bloke and maliciously grabs the mallard from out of his hand and throws it violently , in a bin. The Posh Bloke can’t believe it. He flinches back alarmed, at Des’s hostility and brutality.


I think you should review your business practises.

Des completely ignores the Posh Bloke.

All the other customers are still laughing at the Posh Bloke. Des gives him an evil look, before eventually speaking back down the phone to Chicken, who has heard the whole thing, as he has been hanging on for the whole time.


I said lad, we are going away…you, me and Peter. That’s before I `Review my

business practises'.......... like…

Des looks sadistically at the Banker, with his lip curled up, denoting his displeasure, at his comments.


(not understanding)

Do what?


Nowt lad nowt....numbers and `Count Down'


What are you talking about? Anyway Peter? Go away? His never gonna

pay to go on a holiday! He’s the tightest man in Cumbria and besides

that, he’ll never leave His bloody sheep. Look what happened last time,

he left them.


Aye Chicken, but that lad were prosecuted for what he did to those sheep.


(Continuing to look distressed)

Yeah but that were no consolation to Peter. He cried for a week, when

vet said that that sheep, had to be put down, because of internal

injuries and anyway I can’t afford to go away either, I’m on `Disability

Benefit' and I can’t leave mother on her own in this house either. She

keeps saying that she can hear father, calling her name all the



( raising his eyebrows to the heavens)

Oh for Gods sake! The only thing Ya father would be calling out, is

for you to go on a diet, ya fat bastard. Now fuck your

Disability Benefit! fuck ya Incapacity Benefit, fuck Mother and ya dead

Father! and fuck Peter’s sheep too……

(Des pauses unusually thoughtfully)

Well no, I won’t say fuck Peters sheep, cos that weren’t funny

when it actually happened like. ………….Now are ya coming or not?

I’m paying for ya. Now login uranium just for old times sake…………

ya fat bastard.

Des begins to laugh like a lunatic.


leave me alone….why would I go away with you? I’m never

going away with you again, after the school trip to Poole……

after what happened and what you did to me.

With that, Chicken hangs up on Des.

Des immediately rings him straight back. This time Des puts on a stupid Chinese voice.


Take away…I want take away

Chicken hangs up again. Des rings straight back.

(all the time in back ground, we see the bustling market stall and Des’s staff looking

completely desperate for help)






That flood and fire on the school trip, were nowt to do with me lad.


Yes it was, I saw you with the petrol!


Come on Chicken lad, its all water under the bridge.....literally

l....pardon the pun, anyway once those kids made it to the

bridge they were safe. Move on lad. I bet ya still looking at old

ladies tities, ain’t ya?...ya sick bastard…by the way that youth

hostel, needed burning down, it were a fucking dump and no

one drown….well, I know they had to rescue that old man

with a dingy but he were fine! Hypothermia don’t last

forever lad. He were fine! Like I said, move on Chicken lad,

move on!

Chicken, disgusted with Des, ends the phone call and collapses with his head in his hands, on to his computer desk. Chicken can’t believe, Des’s callous nature.

There is a small, quiet, knock at Chicken’s bedroom door.

(Chicken’s mother has been listening outside for ages)

Chicken ignores it. His mother knocks again. Chicken quickly closes down the web site that he has been looking at. The mammoth pair of breasts that have been up on the screen disappear. The knock on his door goes again. Chicken sighs wearily.


Come in mother

The old lady pushes open the door and walks into Chicken’s bedroom, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.


Saunderson son, I brought you a nice cup of tea. I know you’ve

been hard at it all day…have you found any jobs on the Internet yet?

Chickens mother lays down the tray of tea and biscuits on his bed. The tea is served up in a Royal Albert tea set and the biscuits are laid out prettily and daintily on a matching china plate. His mother then walks around to him and stands over his shoulder.


Nay mother, I’m exhausted. I haven’t found anything suitable. Still

I’ve got a lot going for me though, I’m a minority group remember.


(putting her hand on his shoulder)

Now son don’t say things like that


Nay Mam, times have changed. It’s a good thing these days.

In the eyes of the Left, its good to be fat, depressed,

unemployable and a morbidly obese minority. If I put on

some more weight, I might even qualify for a lottery grant. I’m sure

I’ll get a job soon. If I don’t.... I’ll sue the local council…or

someone, for something and ought. After all, that police

officer in London, who parents were descendants of second

generation, mixed heritage parents, keeps doing it! So far

the buggers had £6 million off the British tax payer……

for not getting a job with every company in London...


(looking concerned)

Argh we didn't have that in my day. Not to worry son…you don’t need a job,

you’ve got me. I’ll look after you. Now I’ve done all your washing and ironing

and I’ve got your favourite for tea. We can sit down and watch Coronation

Street tonight together, like always…Now shall I run you bath?


Nay Mother, I had one three day ago remember?


Oh yes, so you did son…so you did.

With that Chickens mother, kisses the top of his greasy head and looks down lovingly at him. Chicken realises that his mother has seen his phone. His mother pulls a face. Chicken looks at the phone too. It starts to ring but Chicken lets it go to answer phone.


(looking serious)

How many times is that today son? He’ll soon get bored

when he meets a girl…don’t worry, he cant be like this forever.

Chicken groans as he thinks about the ceaseless bombardment of phone calls. Chicken and his mother exchange thoughtful look. She smiles at him, as she walks out of his room. The phone starts to ring again. Chicken ignores it. He waits until it has rung off and then dials 901, to retrieve his messages. He has a message from Des.


Hello ya fat bastard, have you ordered a pizza yet today?

Des’s laughter can be heard reverberating in the background, as Chicken ends the call. Chicken despondently cringes and then switches the phone off altogether. Chicken collapses on his bed and switches on the watch TV, while he drinks his tea and eats his biscuits. Chicken switches on Channel 4. Channel 4, are showing a repeat of the TV programme;`You Are What You Eat’ with Gillian McKeith. Mckeith is wandering around Borough Market in London. McKeith stops to buy some fish from Des’s stall.

She begins talking about the benefits of omega 3 & 6 (even though Des doesn’t know what they are) she states that essential fatty acids, regulate the metabolism and so thus helps burn fat more efficiently. McKeith is accompanied by her miserable `client’ ( and the topic of the show) a fat woman from the East End, who weighs forty stone and is suffering from malnutrition.

Mckeith, begins interviewing Des. Chicken can’t believe his misfortune of having turned on the TV, to see Des. Chicken groans out loud and curses God.


(talking to himself)

I can’t get away from the bastard. I can’t believe this is happening to me.



(to Des)

So tell me Des, do you think the people of the Lake District, enjoy a better

sea food diet, than the Londoners? Rick Stein seems to think so…….


(Unusually deadpan)

Aye, quite possibly love


And in your professional opinion do you think that an abundance

of the healthy fats, the omega 6 & 3’s, in oily fish, do regulate

the metabolism and prevent obesity?

Des looks over McKeith’s shoulder, straight in to the camera. Bearing all his teeth and gums (and smiling like the lunatic, that he is) says


Oh no love……..I know some fat bastards up north too!

Des’s face instantly changes back to deadpan, while still looking straight into the camera and not moving a milimeter. McKeith looks stunned and mutters over her shoulder to the crew


We can’t use that.


Chickens bedroom. Once again Chicken groans like he is in pain. Chicken knows full well that Des is talking about him. With that Chicken takes off one of his slippers and throws it at the TV in anger. Chicken then rolls over face down and starts to cry into his pillow.


Back to Borough market. Des is still on his stall. This time Des is on the phone to Peter. ( In the back ground, Des’s staff are still being run ragged off their feet. The queue to pay, is about 25 people deep. The people in the queue are all huffing and puffing and looking at their watches. As the customers look at Des, He looks at them back and speaks to Peter)


Aye Son it’s me. I done it, I booked that thing that I told ya about.

That holiday. I’m paying, so shut ya tight arsed mouth, before ya say

no. Three weeks Friday, be ready…..Oh and before ya say anything….

sod your sheep, thou be coming whether you like it or not.


Peter stands alone on a desolate hill side in Cumbria, surrounded by sheep. Peter

hasn’t actually had time to get a word in edge ways, before Des puts the phone down, on him. Peter is left standing, holding his phone, just looking at it.


Des laughs at his own last remark, as he puts the phone down on Peter.


Peter puts his mobile back in his pocket, takes his flat cap off and scratches his head, looking slightly confused. He then turns and looks down to speak to one of his sheep;


Holiday aye? What d’ya think of that then? Best is, I’m not paying for it.

Grande that. Lovely a free ‘oliday…free! Bloody marvellous that

like… Grand….grand. I aint had holiday since 1989. Grande!

Peter smiles to himself, as a sheep baa’s and leaves a deposit at his feet. Peter puts his

flat cap back on and looks down at the sheep pooh.


(Talking to the sheep)

Hope that’s not an omen.


Back to Des at the Market. He puts his mobile phone back in his back pocket.


Des momentarily looks at his manically busy stall and his harassed staff. Not giving a toss, He looks across to his senior assistant Doug


Hey Doug, I’m going in the Market Porter for a pint lad.

Doug opens his mouth and raises his right arm, about to protest but Des is already striding off, across the market towards the pub. Des doesn’t care about his staff or his business.

ACT 11

The three pig farmers quickly arrange their first passports for their trip. Meanwhile, Chicken’s mother worries furiously, about his trip, as Chicken has never been away from home. Chicken reassures his mother by telling her, that they are going on a `Cultural Exchange’ with some pig farmers from Holland, that he has met on the Internet. Having heard stories in the village about the Internet, His mother becomes even more worried. Chicken reassures his mother that they will be OK. Chicken’s mother then rapidly and rather excitedly, buys her son: new cloths, new trousers, pants, shirts and a brand new suitcase on wheels.

Peter hurriedly takes measures to ensure his business runs smoothly while he is away. He rings his daughter to tell her he is going away and does she need anything. Peter is disappointed when his daughter tells him that she is fine and that if she did need anything, she would ask her in-laws


On the day of travel, Peter and Des drive to Chicken’s house. Chickens cottage is one of four. There is a beautiful communal grass verge outside the cottages, that is smothered in daffodils and is called the William Wordsworth bank. As Des pulls up, outside Chickens cottage, he pulls up on the verge, taking all the daffodils down with him.

Peter is mortified, that Des has ruined all the daffodils. Peter utters a few fruitless protestations (something about the National Trust) that Des basically ignores.

Once they are parked up outside, Peter covers his face with his hands. He hopes that no one will, recognise him. Meanwhile Des (having no guilt or decorum) rolls down the window, bibs loudly and repeatedly, shouting out from the van window.


Chicken ya fat bastard. Hurry up!

As Chicken does not come out immediately, Des places his hand on the horn and leaves it there, until he does.


Hurry up you fat twat.

All the people from the adjacent cottages, come out to see what all the noise and fuss is about. Des starts laughing, as all the neighbours, start going mad about the destroyed daffodil bank. As all the neighbours are going mad;


For pity’s sake Des, You’ve always got to cause trouble. You’ve

taken down all these flowers again, Can’t you just act normal for once

in your life? This bank belongs to the National Trust.


So what. Flowers grow again lad.


These old folk spend all year tending these flowers and in a

second, you’ve just ruined the whole beautiful bank. You know that that is, or was, The William Wordsworth bank, don’t you? DES

William who? Do I know him? You’d think I’d just started

World war three! The way these folk are going on. What’s the problem?

Peter turns his cheek away from Des and shakes his head.



Stop being soft lad. I can’t believe your worried about some

flowers. Shall I get out o’ van, and pick you a bunch? Your

turning into a right soft southerner, since we’ve

been down to Borough market! Soft as shit……mithering about some

flowers!….fucking! flowers! Where's it all going to end?

Des sits there shaking his head and making effeminate and camp gesticulations at Peter. While Peter sits next to Des, shaking his head at him in despair. Peter is even more mortified than he was earlier.

Just then, a really, really old man, with a stick, starts hobbling up towards the Van.


(seeing the old man coming, he hangs his head in shame)

Oh no!

Peter exhales loudly, as he watches the old man approach the van.

Then very, very slowly, Des turns his head to look at Peter. Peter knows that Des is

looking at him. Des then slowly turns back to look ahead, while keeping hold of the steering wheel. The old man eventually gets to Des’s side of the van and sticks his head in the window.


(to Des)

You were given an ASBO, last time you ruined The `William Wordsworth’

Bank. I’m going to talk to your Mother about this, this time.

Your nothing but trouble, with no consideration, for any other

folk than yourself. We spend months, tending them flower beds.

You should be ashamed of yourself! You've got no respect.


Flowers! What good are they to folk? When there’s that little lad

in village, who needs money to go to America, to get that operation

to save his life. I’d rather be giving me money to dying

kiddies, not fucking flowers. Listen old man, I’ll let you into a secret….

flowers grow back! Now fuck the flowers, I’m off on me holidays.

With that Des bursts out laughing.

The old man (in disgust) clenching his fist above his head, shouts



Show some respect. Tourists came from all over to see The, William

Wordsworth Flower bank....you...you... Bloody hoodie!

The old man shakes his head sorrowfully, before turning and hobbling back into his cottage. The rest of the neighbours are still huddled around in a circle together, shaking their fists too and starring bitterly at the men in the van. Des looks at Peter


Who’s Willy-Word-Of-Mouth?

Peter (who knows who he is) just gives Des a desperate look.

Meanwhile, Chicken has still not come out of the cottage. Much to the horror of Peter, Des puts his hand back on the horn and leaves it on there.

The elderly neighbours, unable to stand the noise, all disappear back inside their cottages.


Chicken comes running out of his Mother’s cottage (which is a unique spectre in its self, as Chicken never runs anywhere, his too fat) Chicken is closely followed by his mother. His Mother attempts to catch up with her son, so that she can have a go at Des but Chicken manages to jump in the van, just before his Mother can get to it.

She is left just shouting out behind him on the pavement.


Take care son…take care. Have you got your travel sickness pills?

Your headache tablets? Your anti diarrhoea tablets, the Boots First Aid kit?

your passport, the British Consulates number? Your travel insurance details? Your

money? And the boiled sweets for the flight?

Upon hearing Chicken’s Mothers parting words, Des and Peter start laughing loudly.

Then (on purpose to disturb the sound of Chicken’s mother even more) Des pulls away as fast as he can, producing an alarmingly loud wheel skid (which completely annihilates, any of the rest of the sea of golden daffodils, that are left) Chicken looks back at his Mother, in the wing mirror.

He sees her dabbing her eyes with her white linen handkerchief.

Peter looks at Chicken, as Chicken drops his head and appears to look nauseous.


Something’s not right. I got a bad feeling about this trip. I

feel like someone is walking over my grave.

Chicken shivers. Chicken stares back at his Mother from the wing mirror. For a long time, He is unable to take his eyes off her. Chicken sticks his arm out of the window and waves back at her, for as long as he can. Eventually she fades out of sight.


Walking over ya grave, ya say lad? That would be an Olympic sport

in itself! That Paula Radcliff, would have Her work cut out there lad.

If weather turned, they’d have to send for Ray Meers, to rescue folk.

Even then, folk might not come back alive, specially if they'd got stuck

on the peak! It would be miles back down!...fucking days....days! If folk think

worse things happen at sea, they ain't seen owt! Walking over ya grave indeed?

............Ya silly fat bastard.

Des laughs loudly to himself and does an impression, of a; lost, blind, cold and knackered hill walker. Des squints his eyes and puts his arms out in front of him, fumbling.



Oh weather changed! and we didn’t know where we were! and we

only had enough water for two days...it were awful!....we thought

we were gona die, on't peak!

Chicken looks even more upset, as Des laughs uncontrollably.

Peter’s face is unmoved. Peter does not laugh at Des’s piss take, of Chicken


(to Chicken)

Come on lad, Des is paying…cheer up. Take no notice of him.



Oh will ya look at you two! What a pair of Nancy boys. Hang on, let me

go back and pick ya both a nice bunch of Flowers…………Oh, hang on…Oh

no! I can’t, cos I’ve just fucking slaughtered, the Wordy Willysworth patch……..

what a fucking tragedy. It will be all over the evening news tonight! No

tsunami, killing thousands, just a bunch of dead fucking daffs………

……..what a tragedy! I hope that they have a support line, for

folk to ring in on, if their grieving for the dead daffs. Like that

``Take That line’’, they had when they split up remember?There were

teenage girls’ all over country, threatening to kill ‘emselves! and

what a load of Nancy boys they were too!....eh Chicken lad, you

should have been in that `I’ll Have A Bit Of This And That Group’

(Chicken starts groaning)

………oh but hang on……….You were too fat! Eh them lads, bet they

had a bit of this and that and everything else too...dirty bastards.

Des laughs at himself. Both Chicken and Peter just stare at Des emotionless.

Chicken turns to Peter, changing the subject.


Where is Amsterdam?


I…I’m…..um ..d’ya know lad, I’m not sure.







What d’ya mean, what? Where is Amsterdam?



How should I know? I bought a holiday. Does it matter? An Holidays,

an holiday, an holiday..in’t it? Where ever ya go, an holidays, an holidays

an holiday, right?

Peter and Chicken both ignore Des.

Peter and looks at Chicken.


Don’t worry Chicken lad, where ever it is, I’m sure it will be OK.


Aye, listen, don’t worry about nowt Chicken lad. I’ve already checked

it out. There’s no: benders, no beggars, no cripples, no flies, no hill walkers

and NO fucking dead daffodils! Ya happy now?


Des convulses in to laughter. Chicken’s dismay at Des’s ignorance, is almost tangible. He buries his head in his hands.


Back at Chicken’s mother’s cottage, (after surveying the totally ruined flower bed) Chicken’s Mam, cries even harder. Dejectedly, she walks back into the cottage. She wipes her eyes and blows her nose violently. She walks over to a large silver framed photograph of her dead husband and lovingly looks at it. She puts her finger on the picture of her dead husband.


Please look after our boy Cyril, I got a bad feeling, about this holiday, bad.

There’s only ever trouble, where, that Desmond Sainsbury goes…



Back in the van, Des is still laughing hysterically, at Chicken’s face (which is as long as a kite) Des looks at Peter


And you, you didn’t even want to leave ya animals, ya soft pile of shit.

Honestly the pair of you. You two should both go live in London. You’d be right

at home with them soft southern shites, with their boy bands, pink shirts,

fancy hair do’s and panic buttons.

Peter and Chicken look at each other (not pleased) Des continues to laugh like a lunatic.

A couple of silent seconds pass.

Des opens his glove compartment and grapples for a `Bee Gees, cassette tape. Des finds the tape he wants. He sticks it in and forwards it to;`More than a Woman’ Once the music starts, Des begins to sing along, all effeminate, pretending to be gay. Within 10 seconds, Peter, Chicken and Des are all laughing and singing along camply together. They stop at a set of lights and a mini metro pulls up besides them. The people in the mini metro, can’t stop staring at The Farmers', as they all sing along to the Bee Gee’s `More Than a Woman’


The Farmers' arrive at Manchester Airport. At the airport, Des begins his complete and total annihilation of Chicken. Des does the following:

  • Goes through Chicken’s suitcase and cuts out all the crutches from his new trousers

  • Rings Chicken’s mother to say that he is worried about Chicken, as he’d been drinking tequila. As Des put the receiver down, He tells Chicken’s mother that he has just seen Chicken `Sprinting up an escalator’

  • When Des discovers a stag party in the airport bar, He informs them that Chicken has a

`Liking for thin, small, Mancunian boys’


  • When they check in Des loudly makes a whole big scene, to embarrass Chicken. Des asks if the plane is big enough for Chicken’s weight and luggage.

  • Des tells the girl, who is checking in Chickens luggage,

that Chicken hasn’t packed it himself and his been in flight school in Florida.

  • On the flight, Des tells all the male stewards, that Chicken is gay and after their telephone numbers.

Meanwhile after having a drink, Farmer Peter begins wallowing in self-pity, about everything. Peter moans about:

  • Money and how expensive London is.

  • How expensive the beer is.

  • How expensive and useless women are (in particular his deliriously happy ex-wife)

  • His lost opportunity to provide Harrods food hall with bacon.

  • The farming industry.

  • The Government.

  • Tax

  • Japanese and American tourists in the Lake District.


Des spends most of the flight, laughing at Peter and Chicken and continually taking the piss, out of them both. All The Farmers', proceed to consume vast amounts of alcohol, as they seem to believe that it is compulsive, while flying. Chicken stays silent and embarrassed, as Des and Peter loudly quiz him about paedophilia on the Internet. Des states that all the other passengers on the flight are `weird’, as he constantly catches people staring at them. After totally getting drunk, Des then gets angry and asks anyone and everyone, whom he catches staring at them


What ya fucking looking at?

The Farmers' fall out of the airport (very drunk) and hail a taxi.

Des gives a piece of paper to the taxi driver, with the details of the hotel on. The taxi driver, raises his eyebrows in surprise, when he sees the name of the hotel. With out saying anything, He takes them straight to it.

Des knows nothing about the hotel, as he hasn’t read any of the paper work or brochures. The taxi driver stops outside the magnificent hotel and The Farmers' stumble out of the taxi.

Chicken falls flat on his face and causes a scene.

Initially Peter and Des try to get him up but alas, it takes five men to pull him up: The concierge, the Bell Boy, the taxi driver, Des and Peter. Des keeps repeating



Eh lads, his not dead, his just fat.

Eventually, they make their way into the hotel. Just before they finally get into the hotel, they briefly notice an unfortunate Tramp who is sitting outside, on an old Heineken crate, with a crazy dog. The Farmers' laugh at The Tramp briefly but think no more of it.

Once they enter the hotel, they are physically knocked back by its sheer opulence. It is a five star hotel. They have never seen anything like it before. They are momentarily dumb struck. Their mouths drop open wide. They can’t believe how fantastic the hotel is. They literally stagger to the front desk, whereupon they get another unexpected surprise; the hotel’s Receptionists', who all look like super models. The Farmers' have never seen such beautiful girls’ before. Peter, Chicken and Des immediately loose the power of speech, as they stare avidly at The Receptionists'’ remarkable and magnificent faces and cleavages.

The ever helpful eastern European Bell Boy, pushes Chicken backwards, on to a large luggage trolley. The Eastern European Bell Boy can’t help giggling at The Farmers' because they are the funniest and worst behaved guests, he has ever seen.

After an historically unsurpassed lapse of time, spent staring at The Receptionists', (with Chicken siddled up besides them, on the trolley ) Farmer Peter makes a Freudian slip (while still staring at the receptionist’s breasts)


(to The Receptionists'’)

Do I have to tit, the Bell Boy?

By this time, there are many other guests at the hotel reception.

An attractive young business woman, tuts loudly at Peter’s Freudian slip. A few other guests snigger. A middle-aged business man, blatantly bursts out laughing and the rest of the guests, just stare in amazement at the incongruous farmers.


A hideously embarrassed, pretentious Hotel Manager appears from nowhere and holds his out his hand to Peter.

Peter and Des just look at him, up and down and ignore his pleasantries.

The wholly amused Bell Boy, hovers, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

After a considerable lapse of time has been spent, where all the men have been starring at each other (and Peter is still staring at The Receptionists', magnificent breasts') The Manager prompts the `tit-struck’ farmers, to make their way to their suite.


Good evening. Would you like me to escort you to your `Royal Suite?

Both Peter and Des, take a physical step backwards and look shell shocked, in response to the words `Royal Suite’. Chicken looks up quizzically from the trolley, to the Bell Boy.


(questioning in stunned unison)

Royal Suite?


Yes gentlemen, The Royal Suite,.


Yes The Royal Suite.

Des and Peter take another step back, while a stunned drunken Chicken, looks up from his trolley, at his new mate the Bell Boy. The Bell Boy happily nods his head, in confirmation at Chicken.


Yesz zee Royal zsuite




The Farmers' take another step back, as they are even more astonished that they have been referred to as `gentlemen’.

In reaction to the surprised reaction of The Farmers', the Hotel Manager and The Receptionists'’ also simultaneously, physically flinch backwards, surprised at the fact that The Farmers' do not recognise themselves, as `gentlemen’ and also cannot come to grips with the fact that they are staying in The`Royal Suite’ Furthermore the Hotel Manager and The Receptionists'’ are also taken aback, by The Farmers' strange, colloquial behaviour, traditional farm dress and mannerisms. These are not the hotels typical clientèle. The hotel staff have never met people, such as these, let alone had anyone wheeled in on a trolley because they are so drunk, that they cannot stand up. The three Farmers' look at each other, still stunned.

The Receptionists'’, the Hotel Manager and the Bell Boy, all look at each other amazed and then look back at The Farmers'. The Farmers' are still looking at each other. There is a brief period of silence. Then taking charge of the situation, the Hotel Manager slowly walks out from behind the desk and walks forward, gently taking Des’s elbow, in order to guide him towards the elevator. Des (who has no manners, no social skills, no decorum and is unused to being touched by anyone) flinches violently, withdrawing his elbow from The Manager’s touch.


Take ya fucking hands off me lad, before I knock ya, into the middle of

next week. What’s ya game?

The Manager looks highly offended and embarrassed.


Sir, I am merely doing my job and that is to make you, as comfortable

as possible and to offer you the best possible service.

Just then the small, cheeky looking, Eastern European Bell Boy (who looks about 16)

reaches out to grab, Des and Peter’s bags



What the fucks that little ponce doing? Step away from me bags

lad, or I’ll smash ya face in too.

Des steps forward and physically removes the Bell Boys hand from his luggage, quite brutally. The Bell Boy giggles (Des is a novelty to him) The Hotel Manager raises his eyebrows, straightens his posture and takes another very deep breath.

The Receptionists' can check no other guests in, for they are still staring at The Farmers' and observing the unfolding scenario.


Sir, we are trying to help you, to your Royal Suite. Please allow us to

carry your luggage.

Des and Peter quickly survey the reception area. They notice that all the other guests are standing still, just staring at them.

Chicken is still paralytic on the luggage trolley.

The Bell Boy seems to be the only staff member, with a sense of humour; he cannot help but giggle to himself.


(Quietly to Des, so no one else can hear)

Shut up and just cooperate

Des (remarkably) let's the Bell Boy, load the bags on top of Chicken. Chicken looks mildly astonished that the luggage is being loaded onto him but he doesn’t make any protestations. Realising The Farmers' are going to cooperate, the smarmy Hotel Manager, nods his head and walks on ahead, guiding them to the elevator. Just as they are about to get in the elevator, Des (accidentally on purpose) shoves The Manager forward. The Manager goes flying to the back of the elevator, colliding with the mirrored back wall. Peter while smirking, very quickly catches on and bundles in, so that The Manager cannot escape. The quick witted, Eastern European Bell Boy (realising what Des has done) pushes the trolley in quickly, behind them all. The Bell Boy cunningly positions the trolley, so that The Manager is pinned to the back of the elevator, by Chicken’s fat legs. The Manager is well and truly squashed. It takes The Manager a minute to get himself together after banging his head. He puts his fingers to his nose and checks his face in the mirror, for blood. The Farmers' struggle unsuccessfully to conceal their laughter. Chicken is so pissed he cannot help but laugh, anyway. The Bell Boy tries his best to not laugh but does so too. The Manager looks scared, humiliated and angry. Then to further exacerbate matters, Des’s idea of a joke, is to very, very, slowly edge backwards. Peter and the Bell Boy, look at each other and then do the same. The Manager’s eyes dart back and forth, as The Farmers' edge further and further back. Soon enough The Manager looks terrified. Des then perform his `piece de resistance’ and farts. All three Farmers' and the Bell Boy burst out laughing, at the noise.

As the elevator pings open. The Manager looks like a yapping Jack Russell, suffering from a bad case of claustrophobia, as he fights to get out of the elevator. Eventually The Farmers' move their shoulders and let him past.

The Manager collapses against a wall, gasping for breath, while waving his hand in front of his face (because of the smell of the fart) The Farmers' continue to laugh at him, until he gets himself together. Chicken drunkenly looks up at The Manager, from the trolley.


(slurring because his still pissed)

We’re only having a laugh man. No harm done.


(looking serious)

Yes…..very funny, that famous English sense of humour, I suppose.


Think ya self lucky, we didn’t do owt else to ya man.

The Manager pulls a pink comb from his back pocket, combs his hair, adjusts his immaculate suit and clears his throat.

Des continues to make funny faces, behind The Managers back. Chicken is in drunken hysterics, flagellating about (on the trolley)As Chicken’s limbs move in all directions, the bags keep coming off, the Eastern European Bell Boy, has to keep loading them back on top of him. Astonished guests keep looking at Chicken and the Bell Boy.


The place is most certainly, going down hill. Riff raff, riff raff!

This comment is much to the detriment of The Hotel Managers, mental health. Upon hearing this comment, The Hotel Manager's face crumples.


Des (taking the piss out of The Manager) does an effeminate Larry Grayson impersonation. In falsetto, He throws forward a limp wrist, throws all his weight on to one leg and screws up his mouth.


Can you feel a draft lads? I swear the temperature has dropped. I

can feel a cold breeze. Shut that door………..shut it!....shut…..that……

fucking door!

P  Peter collapses on top of Chicken, the bags and the trolley with laughter.

The Manager (knowing full well that they are taking the piss) burns bright red. He is shaking and seething with anger.


(Observing The Manager’s red face)

Keep ya knickers on mate, it’s a joke but you don’t have jokes..in…

er…where ever we are like?….What’s this place called again lad?


Holland Sir. Holland.

Des, Peter and Chicken all raise their eyebrows and look at each other surprised. They all then look back at the Manager.


Nay lad, that weren’t what it were called……travel agent said it were

something else… …beginning with an A….not that I’m bothered

or owt, I mean it’s only a holiday after all…….

In response to this comment, The Manager just raises his eyebrows, infuriated by Des’s ignorance. Des leans in closer to Peter and whispers


Where are we again? I already forgot what he were saying


'cos it were that interesting!

Peter just nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders.


Dunno. Can't remember myself lad ( then looking serious) Does it matter?


Nay lad, nay, It don't matter and anyway I don't give a fuck

where we are, do you? We're on holiday that's all I care about.


(shaking his head agreeing)

Nay, thy be right there. I'm not standing in sheep shit, so I'm happy.

(turning to The Manager)

But for Christ's sake, can we get in our room.


(turning o Peter)

I'm sorry Sir, what was the last word you just said?



Room lad, room lad. What's the problem, with that like?


My dear man, `rooms' are for B&B's, this is The Royale Suite.

The Manager, with a strange expression on his face, struggles to comprehend The Farmers'. Ignorance. He then moves forward to open `The Royal Suite' for them.


(still bright red)

Gentlemen…your Royal Suite and once more, you are in HOLLAND.

The door opens. The Farmers' however are still silently staring at the Hotel Manager.


(nodding towards The Suite and extending his arm)


The Farmers' stare into `The Suite'. They all do the biggest `double take', in the world. They all remain in the door way, completely and utterly speechless, as they cannot believe their eyes. They are in total awe, of the magnificent, majestic, resplendent, ostentatious, pretentious, cream and gold Suite. Chicken slides off the trolley and on to the floor, in shock.

The Bell Boy looks at The Farmers' faces and giggles to himself. The Bell Boy can’t take his eyes off The Farmers', He is enchanted moreover enthralled by them.


Right I will leave you gentlemen (raising his eyebrows)to unpack.

With that The Hotel Manager smiles insincerely, sticks his nose in the air and leaves.

The Farmers' are still standing in the door way, with their mouths open.

The Bell Boy pushes the trolley around Chicken, with all the bags on top of it, into The Royal Suite. The Bell Boy then hangs about grinning, waiting for his tip.

Des and Peter, look briefly at The Bell Boy. They double take him too. They know what he wants. Peter and Des then try to stare him out. In response to this, The Bell Boy, begins to optimistically jangle the loose change in his pockets, still smiling and waiting for a tip. When the Bell Boy, realises that his not going to get a tip, His face drops by a full ten foot.

Just then an elderly and tiny Japanese couple walk past them in the corridor and let themselves into the Suite next door.



(tipping his hat to the Japanese couple)

How do.

The Japanese couple, politely stop and bow down respectfully.


(Mistaking their greeting, screams)

Quick, help them lads, they’ve dropped something on’ t floor.

Peter drops to the floor and begins looking for the non-existant, something.

Des ignores all this and squints, looking suspiciously at the Bell Boy.

The Bell Boy, starts grinning, as he knows that Peter has mis-interpreted the Japanese couples greeting. The Japanese couple look at each other, stunned.


(looking down at Peter)

Lad, ya won’t find any loose change down there,

(Des points directly at the Bell Boy)

to tip this poor bugger with.

The Bell Boy raises his eyebrows, realising that The Farmers' are talking about him.

Peter looks up at Des from the floor and begins trying to justify his non-existent tip;


( Pointing at The Bell Boy, albeit aggressively)

I’m not going to give the lad money, his done nowt to earn it!....NOWT

I say! Nowt!..I'm not Simon bloody Cowell.

Chicken’s head is rolling about, as he attempts to look up at: Des, Peter, the Japanese Tourists and the Bell Boy, from the floor and follow their conversation.


(looking at Peter but pointing at Chicken)

Nowt you say? His been pushing that fat bastard around for the

last half an hour… that’s an advanced cardio-vascular work out,

in itself! It must be the equivalent of running, the London

Marathon. Poor bugger must be knackered.


I am



Not you! You stupid, fat bastard. The Bell Boy…him

(Des points at the still smiling and ever optimist Bell Boy)



Yez I amz. How youz say......knackezed.

Des jumps on the spot because he is astounded that the Bell Boy is and has been following their conversation. The Bell Boy starts panting theatrically and begins comically wiping his brow, to simulate that he is indeed knackered. He then holds out his small hand and smiles hopefully at The Farmers' again, waiting for a tip.


(under his breath)

Aye up, the lad ain’t as stupid as he looks.

The Bell Boy looks at Des.


No mez not.

Des, highly amused, chuckles at the cheeky Bell Boy and then pulls a fifty pound note, out of his pocket and gives it straight to him.

The astonished Bell Boy’s eyes, light up like a Christmas tree.

Peter’s eyes do the same, as he cannot believe how much Des has given him.

Des looks down to Peter, who is still on the floor. Des shakes his head at him in a derogatory manner.


(to Peter)

I know, I know nowt about owt but at least I know when to tip. Your a tight


(Des looks back at the Bell Boy)

There lad, now go and buy yourself a barrel of ale. knock yourself out.

Des and the Bell Boy, look at each other and laugh .

The Bell Boy then bends down to Peter (who is still on the floor, looking for whatever the Japanese couple are supposed to have dropped) and peels off a label from his back.

The Bell Boy hands the label to Peter.

Peter stands up and reads it out loud (slowly)


`I’m ....a.... tight.... bastard’................. Oh I am, am I?

Des starts laughing loudly.

The Bell Boy then turns to Chicken


Fairz well myz friend. I will nevezr forget you Because youz fattest evezr!

Des laughs even harder, at the Bell Boys remark.

Peter meanwhile after reading the piece of paper, viciously screws it up and throws it down at the feet of the Japanese couple.

The Japanese couple jump and look suitably shocked.

Des continues laughing. Peter gives Des a filthy look, as the Japanese couple disappear into their own suite. All the while this is going on, The Farmers' are still standing outside, The Royal Suite, Chicken is still laying by the door way and the trolley still has all the bags piled on top of it. Chicken still looks pissed and puzzled, as he tries to comprehend the departing Bell Boy’s words to him. The Farmers'’ fall quiet, as they concentrate on looking inside The Royal Suite. They are all still gob-smacked, by it’s sheer opulence and luxuriousness. Finally (another minute) a drunken, slurring Chicken speaks.


We can’t stay here…it’s too posh for usssss


Aye lad, it be posh alright......that it be........... its possshhh

More silence from The Farmers'. They are still speechless. They have never seen anything like it, in their entire lives.


At end o’day lads, it’s only a fucking hotel room. I paid for it, so let’s enjoy it.


(both look at each other and agree simultaneously)




I don’t care where I sleep me. Some nights I sleep with me sheep,

some nights I sleep with me pigs, some nights I sleep on me own. What

I mean is, Des is right, it maybe posh but it’s only a roof over our heads.

It’s no better or worse than anywhere else, ya get ya head down at. A beds,

a beds, a beds.


Yep………..Jesus he lived in a barn.

Des and Peter look at each other with screwed up faces because they are so astounded with what Chicken has just said. Both their mouths drop open and they start shaking their heads. After a couple of seconds, Chicken, realises that he has just said something really stupid. Chicken then starts to try to justify himself, intelligently.


Or something like that…………… a manger,or a zoo…something ta do

with animals and being poor and desperate. What I mean is, that

you said, that it’s only a roof, this Royal Suite like…………Jesus, well

he just had a barn…it’s just a bed for night…….right?...just like

Pete said; a beds, a beds, a beds. Just because It’s posh……….don’t mean

it’s too good for us or that we’re not good enough for it.

(Chicken pauses thoughtfully and then states quietly)

Although I don’t suppose they’ve had many pig Farmers from Cumbria

staying here but to tell you the truth, I’d be happy, just here on’t floor,

or trolley.......happy enough me....anywhere really, I'm not fussed.



Wise words from a fat, drunk, bloke, jackknifed off, a luggage trolley and I don’t

suppose they’ve had many of them in here either!.......ya silly...fat twat!


Chicken lad, you don’t seriously believe all that stuff? It’s

all made up love and anyway, Jesus didn’t live in a barn, he were

born in one....I think.



You just said it were all made up!


He didn’t make it up. You are a drunk, fat, bloke, jack-knifed off

a luggage trolley. Anyway it weren’t a barn, a farm, or a zoo,

it were a stable! Even I know that! even though it’s all made up. Anyway

Chicken lad, How did you go from `Royal Suite’ to Jesus Christ,

superstar? Ya know your problem? You’ve been looking at that Internet too

much lad…..it’s fucking bad for ya…..all sorts of stuff happens to folk, who

use the Internet…I’ve seen it wi’ me own eyes.

Peter looks at Des strangely, as he knows full well, that Des knows nothing about anything, let alone the Internet.


Oh aye. What do you know about Internet?

Des stares studiously at Peter for a prolonged amount of time. Eventually Des says;


You were never going to give that poor lad a tip, were you? Your a tight



(shaking his head despondently and looking at Chicken )

See why I like sheep and pig, more than folk, Chicken lad.

More silence from The Farmers', who are all still standing outside `The Royal Suite’.


I’ve never been somewhere so posh… look at it. Us in there! Me Mam will

not believe this like. Us! Me! Peter! and you Des, in this place! This must

be what Buckingham Palace looks like!


Here we go again. Chicken talking about; his Mam, Jesus fucking Christ

superstar, Fuckingham Buckingham palace! and now here I am with Peter

going on constantly about work, pigs, daffodils. Where’s it

all going end? Please we’re on holiday lads. Chicken lad, I’ll give you half me

pig fortune, if ya can get either one of those Receptionists', back ‘ta room.

Tell ‘em you’re a virgin Chicken lad, they’ll feel sorry for ya lad….ya fat, Jesus

loving, daffodil talking twat!....why the fuck, did I come away wi’ you two for aye?

I must be fucking mad.


(getting angry)

Shut up for once! You don’t know what your talking about!


Ya mean your not a virgin?Or that Jesus wasn’t born in a zoo,or whatever it

were in them days and daffs don’t grow back?


Yes you know I’m a virgin but stop going on about it!

Peter and Des look at each other and raise their eyebrows.


OOOH! I Didn’t know you had it in ya lad…keep ya big fat knickers

on, I aint gona to tell anyone….well not yet any road.

Des stands there starring at Chicken, soon enough a devilish glint, appears in his eyes. Slowly Des breaks into a broad grin, which ends up covering the whole of his unique face.


Aye………right then lads….. I’ve had enough of this, bickering wi` you two

Nancy's, I’m on me holidays…..let’s be having it!

With that Peter, Chicken and Des, break into jubilant smiles. The Farmers' grab their cameras and their money, from their bags, haul Chicken to his feet and go straight out for the night. They leave everything as it is, in `The Royal Suite’ unpacked.


On their way out of the hotel, The Tramp stops The Farmers'’ and holds his hands out begging for money


Mr, money, money, money Me need money….MONEY….moneyyyyyyy

The Farmers' laugh their heads off at The Tramp. Peter looks at Des horrified.


Des, I thought you said there were no beggars here! Folk ain’t stopped

asking us for money, since we’ve got here! It's worse than the `Big Issue'

sellers at London Bridge!

(Peter turning on The Tramp, viciously)

Y’a ain’t getting nowt from any of us! Now sod off and get a job.

The Tramp initially won’t take no for answer. The Tramp, follows The Farmers'’ for a brief period. While following them, The Tramp pulls a myriad of: unique, surreal and sublime facial expressions. The Farmers' can’t stop laughing at him because he is so ugly.

Des points to The Tramp’s boots.



Eh lads, look at his boots! That's one of the funniest things

I've ever seen! Rubber soles made out of elastic bands! Hey

Peter lad, that's cheap as chips that, patent that and make

some money lad, so ya can send ex-wife and that student ponce,

some maintenance......ha!

The soles of The Tramp’s boots, are kept from falling off, by millions of elastic bands, which are wound tightly around his boots. Des continues laughing and pointing at the boots. Des thinks that the bands are absolutely hysterical.


Don't talk to me about maintenance lad...

Des and Chicken, acknowledge the desperate, bleak look upon Peters face and make no further mention of it.


The Tramps dog, is attempting to mount Chicken’s leg, much to the delight of Des.


(to Chicken taking the piss)

Looks like that’s the only thing that will shag ya!

Ask The Tramp where he lives Chicken lad?






I said, ask The Tramp, where he lives.


(to Des)

What are you talking about?


(To both Peter and Chicken this time)

I said, ask The Tramp, where He lives? A barn? A stable? A zoo?

Fuckingham Palace? or in a Royal Suite with Jesus Christ Superstar?

And while your at it, ask the smelly bastard if he knows if Wordy-Willys-is-


Chicken is totally un-amused, as Des and Peter fall about laughing. Chicken looks embarrassed because he feels nothing but empathy for The Tramp.

Eventually The Tramp gets bored trailing The Farmers' and gives up. The Farmers' soon loose him.

Once out and about in Amsterdam, The Farmers' spend the whole night, disgusted and outraged by all the sights and sounds that they see in the red light district.

Chicken and Peter give Des grief about where he has brought them. Des gets stressed (he is wound up easily because he is thick)

To further exacerbate matters, while standing outside a sex shop, The Farmers' have the sudden realisation, that there are far too many homosexual people around.


What’s that behind you Des?

Des spins around quickly and he notices a giant, pink vibrator in a shop window. Then The Farmers' witness, two butch, Dutch women kissing in the street.


I can’t handle this. What’s going on here like? Two men snogging?

It’s fucking sick! A giant penis? What's all this about? I'm sure

that's illegal and no one's even arrested them. Where's all this going to end?


Where have you brought us Des? It’s awful and I thought it couldn't get

any worse, than that year you took us to Blackpool. The country’s mad and them

there men, you are actually talking about, are women, WOMEN!

Des spins around looking at the two gay women kissing.


And while we're talking about Blackpool.......



(pointing viciously at Peter)

Let me just stop you there lad....don't even think about mentioning that

donkey. If you say one word about that donkey.......well


Well what Desmond?


What did you just call me Lad? Don’t call me Desmond, if you

want to get back to England alive. Remember what happened last

time, you did that lad.

Peter appears scared and flustered. He looks to the ground and out of frustration, he kicks an empty can of coke, which hits a teenage boy in the head. The teenager runs off crying.

Next, Chicken (who appears, just to be talking to himself says) lifts his head up into the

night sky and says


Me Mam wouldn’t like it here. I don’t even like it! In fact I’m quite scared.

The three men all seem to be at odds with each other now. Just then;


(putting his head in his hands)

Oh! No! What are those two men doing over there, with those nipple

rings? Surely you shouldn't use your teeth to do that.



We don’t get this up north! I feel sick, like. I thought we were going

on a `Cultural Break’……..well that’s what the Travel Agent called it.

I didn’t realise that that, were a euphemism. Cultures this and cultures

that. …….I had no idea it meant perverted sex. Sick bastards in London,

it’s full of fucking culture down there.….I should have known. Eh, that

Boy George, the greedy bugger, he had a Culture club of his own! in his

Mam's cleaning cloths! ….any excuse for it in London like. Bloody culture.

Least I know what it means now. Bloody cockneys!.....their sick bastards!


I told ya that ages ago….don’t trust those Cockneys, they’re different

to us and now we know…why.....look at that Simon Cowell! What's

that telling ya? Listening to kiddies sing all day for a living? He

needs to get a proper job, working on the land. Eh, he wouldn't be

pulling his trousers up so high after that! he'd be too bloody

knackered to do owt!...owt! OWT! Listening to kiddies singing, I ask

ya?That's never a real days work....he needs to shovel some

manure, on't land.......bloody singing! Choir boys sing!


Where do that Annie Frankie lass come into the equation? That lass

in Hush Puppies, on't plane didn’t shut up about her. Annie Frankie this and

Annie Frankie that. She's part of Amsterdam culture, apparently. Eh lads,

she must be a prostitute. I wonder if that’s her over there, in the lime

green, crutchless catsuit.

The three Farmers' stop talking, to watch an outrageously dressed prostitute, in a lime green catsuit, walk past them. It is at least a couple of seconds, before the stunned Farmers' can speak.


Honestly, Annie Frankie, Jesus-Christ-Superstar, My- Willys-Worth-It;

the fucking daffodil man himself…Where’s it all going to end lad? You don’t

even know any of these people! I don't even know any of these people! Peter

dont' know any of these folk either! it’s doing my head in! Peter tell him

will ya. His talking fucking nonsense. Nonsense! I'm meant to be on me

holidays, here like......and I'm stuck wi' you two, mithering on like

two Nancy's. God have mercy on me!

Peter and Chicken shake their heads and shrug their shoulders vacantly. Des just looks disturbed.

Just then, wo obese, ridiculous looking, female prostitutes, walk past the Farmers'. The Farmers' burst out laughing at them and that breaks the uneasy atmosphere, between the men.


The Farmers' go on an extremely messy bar crawl.

The three Farmers end up in a bar, getting stoned for the first time in their lives. Wasted beyond belief and in constant hysterics, they continue their futile philosophical debate,

about: a roof over your head, rich or poor, Jesus and his barn yard and whether he lived in a `Suite’ and would Anne Frankie, think Willy-was-Worth-it, especially if she got a bunch of daffs.


On their way back to the hotel, The Farmers' find themselves lost.

After a few minutes, The Farmers' proceed ask two Australian tourists for directions. The two Australians (who are wasted beyond belief) forget that they are in Amsterdam and give The Farmers', directions for Earls Court in London.

Eventually two hours later (and still savagely cursing the Australian tourists) The Farmer’s find their way back to the hotel. The Farmers' take back with them: some grass joints, a bottle of hemel nitrate, two bottles of vodka, texilla and a bottle of brandy.


As The Farmers' approach The Hotel, Des has an epiphany. He stops dead in his tracks, as if he’d been touched by the hand of God himself. Slowly he turns to his friends and tells them his epiphany.


Eh lads…. ya know it don’t matter about the roof over ya head thing

and what we been talking about earlier….

Chicken and Peter look blank, having no idea of what Des is trying to say. They look at each

other puzzled.


(Attempting to gesticulate with his hands to convey his point)

…..Ya know lads….about being happy wherever ya are? and getting ya

head down for t’ night and don’t matter, as long as its just a roof? Cos

it is just a roof…….rich or poor and all that….what we said like?

Peter and Chicken look at each other, entirely bewildered. They have not the slightest idea, of what Des is talking about. Chicken and Peter, vacantly look at each other.


(talking to Peter about Des)

It must be those drugs we smoked. His not making any sense

and he don’t even sound the same! His talking like normal folk do

and that's a worry....a big worry

Chicken and Peter look back at Des, mystified.


(to Des)

By heck lad, I've never heard thou so serious, in all my life. Are you ill?


(Breathing out a sigh of frustration)

Nay! Nay! I’m talking about that roof thing, that you two Nancy’s have

been going on about.

Chicken and Peter look at each other, still baffled.


You’ve lost us.


For fuck sake you two!!!…why don’t we sneak that Tramp………back into `The

Suite? He’ll fucking love it like. He won’t believe it! Well get him pissed and

stoned and He’ll wake up and see `The Royal Suite’ and he’ll think his gone

to heaven with Chicken's mate, Jesus Christ superstar ……………….

………..For a laugh like lads? What ya think?

Chicken and Peter look at each other again and then look back to Des. Des in return, looks intensely at Peter and Chicken. The three inebriated Farmer’s, all stand starring seriously at each other, swaying ever so slightly. After a few moments, their weather beaten, pig farmer faces, light up with joy. Slowly Peter starts to laugh and then Chicken and then Des begins to roar with laughter himself.


(looking serious)

Lad, that’s the best idea you’ve ever come up with. Even better

than Borough Market and even better than me leaving the wife.


It’s the only idea I’ve ever came up with. You thought of Borough Market and

your wife left you…….ya stupid twat.


(turning to Des)

That’s out of order saying that


Nay lad, she should have left him years ago, his a right miserable

bastard and a tight one at that.


(shaking his head profusely)

No! I’m not talking about Peter’s Wife, I’m talking about The Tramp!

I said isn’t it out of order taking The Tramp back , to The Hotel?..it’s

probably kidnap or some other criminal offence…



Stop mithering lad……it’s just a laugh, a laugh, remember what that is lad?


(in a drunken stupor)

Well I didn’t think it were that funny. The night she left, she asked me for

fifty quid for the cab…...it were a bloody cheek…….…after all I did for

her that’s gratitude for you. Bitch!



Oh for fuck sake! It’s like going on holiday with a couple of old women and

a broken FUCKING RECORD!!!!!!! Is anyone listening to what I’m saying?


(Bringing his attention back to Des)

What are ya saying lad?

Des looks exasperated and shouts.


I’m saying….The Tramp! the Tramp! Let’s get him back t’ room.


(Correcting Des)

It’s not a room lad. Rooms are for B&B’s. It’sThe Royal Suite. and I’m up

for it, why not? Let’s get the bugger back. I aint’ giving him no money



(Relieved that Peter has agreed)

Argh. We all know that. What d’ya say Chicken lad?

Chicken looks worried but none the less, he concedes to pressure from Peter and Des. Chicken knows he has no choice but to go along with them, otherwise he won’t hear the last of it.


But what if we get in to trouble? Isn’t it technically kidnap?

Chicken looks more and more nervous.


(astonished by Chicken’s remark and rolling his eyes)

You what lad? with all that we’ve seen going on in this town, tonight?

Prostitution and drug pushers, I doubt it…it’s not a crime…is it? What,

are ya Chicken? Chicken lad?

Peter, starts doing an impression of a Chicken, running around in a circle, flapping his arms about like wings and making chick noises. Des is laughing harder than he has all weekend.



(looking distraught)

Leave me alone, I’m the voice of reason, in crazy, sorry scenario.


Chicken…. shut the fucking fuck up OK.

States Des laughing.

Chicken drops his shoulders and makes a few whinging, child-like noises. Chicken is clearly not happy with the situation and goes along with the plan under duress.


But I don’t want to smuggle a tramp back into The Hotel by force, its out

of order!


(Looking at Chicken)

Fucking hell fire!...live a little will ya? Ya might be dead this time next week,

with a heart attack, thou be that full of fat!

(Des nods to Peter)

Right let’s get on with it then lad.


Aye lad….let’s get on with it then.

As Chicken drops his head and groans, Des and Peter start walking ultra quickly and

suspiciously, towards the sleeping Tramp. Chicken has to run to catch up The Farmers'’, as

they approach The Tramp.

As usual, The Tramp and his dog are outside the hotel, sleeping like babies.

As Des and Peter approach The Tramp, they are momentarily knocked back by the stench. They stop in their tracks and wave their hands in front of their faces, appalled by the gross smell.


Is the bugger dead? Because it certainly smells like it.

The Farmers' giggle and then slowly move in closer to The Tramp.


Aye lad I dunno if I can do this,He stinks to high heaven! Is that

shit I can smell?.....but what type of shit is it though? dog shit? Tramp shit?

Someone else's shit?or all three types of shit mixed together?

(thinking to himself)

Now by rights, that'd be a shit cocktail..........Argh this is evil...evil!


(looking at Peter in astonishment)

Since when have you been bothered about shit? Your surrounded by pig

and sheep, all the time and all bloody day long! You never made this much

fuss when the child support agency, caught up with you, for that one night stand

you had .....argh! The pair of ya! Where’s it all going to end? I’d have more

fun on ‘oliday with Joey Deacon. Bet he wouldn’t keep moaning, about

the smell of shit.


(looking defensive)

That’s cos his been sitting in his own shit, all day long.


You heard yourself? Thou sounds like a big fat Nancy boy!

Peter’s face turns scarlet with rage.


Desmond, you’re a twat

Des flushes bright red.


Did you just call me Desmond?




Aye, that I did lad, Desmond. Desmond, Desmond, Desmond.

Des lunges at Peter, in a rage. Both men start fighting in the street, in front of the sleeping Tramp. Chicken doesn’t know what to do. He spins in a circle and makes a few whimpering noises and generally looks scared, as the punches fly. As Des and Peter fight, Chicken does not know what to do, Chicken waits a few minutes, before attempting to beak them up. Chicken manages to separate them but not before getting punched in the face, with a punch that was intended for Peter.



Pack it in! You’ve hurt me eye!

With a rush of adrenaline, with more strength than he knew he had, Chicken manages to part Des and Peter. All the time in the background The Tramp continues to snore. Peter and Des glare angrily at each other, as Chicken holds the pair of them back.


Why are you fighting? I thought the pair of you wanted to get the

Tramp back t’room…….I mean Suite. I mean…….The Royal Suite.

The three Farmers' look down at The Tramp and his dog. Peter and Des both instantly forget their scrap. Des looks at Peter…


Come on lad…let’s get on with it, before we get arrested.

With that Peter and Des (gingerly looking around, to make sure that no one is watching) step forward and shake The Tramp. After 60 seconds of trying to wake him up, they are unable too. The three Farmers stand back and look at each other and then shrug their shoulders.



Argh come on lads…leave him be.


(getting annoyed)

I’m going to wake this fucking, stinking, Tramp up, if it’s the last

thing that I do.

With that Des starts shaking The Tramp harder. This does not work and so as a last resort, Des quickly looks around, to make sure that no one is watching and then kicks The Tramp,

(Chicken and Peter wince, as he does it)


Unbelievably, The Tramp is still snoring. Des looks at Peter and Chicken.


What’s wrong with this fucker? Eh, it might be dead after all.

...lets see...

Des viciously kicks The Tramp again. This time, The Tramp wakes up. As the Tramp wakes, he instantly jumps up, assuming the Kung-Fu-fighting position.

As it’s master wakes, so the dog does too. It soon becomes evident that the dog, is also crazy, as it starts growl in the most bizarre manner.

Des points to the dog and collapses on the pavement laughing. As he collapses, he grabs The Tramp and takes him down with him.

Peter and Chicken try to get the two of `them’ (The Tramp and Des) to their feet again but keep getting repulsed by the smell. The dog keeps jumping up and barking.

Meanwhile, the posh uniformed door man from the hotel keeps looking over. He can’t properly see what is going on because they are in a dark corner.


Calm it down! the doorman keeps looking over! We’re going to

get in trouble!

The Farmers' try to get themselves together. They are trying their best to stay quiet. They spend 3 continuous minutes, sssssssh-ing. Unbelievably The Tramp suddenly becomes their comrade and also starts ssh-ing. This makes The Farmers' laugh, even more.


(pointing to the dog)

What about that dog lads? It looks like a hyena. Where would you

get a dog like that? What’s wrong with its fur? It looks like its been

dipped in superglue… Is it a Hyena? d’ya think its got rabies?

Peter stops laughing, starts rubbing his chin and looks gravely at Des, pondering his remark about Rabies. After much thought, Peter takes off his flat cap and scratches his head.


Well I know nowt about rabies but I know plenty about foot and mouth…



(rolling his eyes at Peter and cutting him off mid sentence)

And don’t we fucking know it. Your not going to mention; sheep, cows, pigs

or work again are ya lad?


(looking embarrassed)

Well all I was going to say was……..Nay, I’m not going to say nowt now, forget it.


Good. We all know the foot and mouth outbreak, was a disaster

but can you stop going on about work. Work, work, work. Work this,

work that. Prince Charles this and Prince Charles that and

what he did for the farming community! We’ve heard it all million times.

Now switch off or fuck off. Your driving me FUCKING mad lad, MAD!

Meanwhile The Tramp (who is still in the fighting position) starts shadow boxing, around Des


(looking at The Tramp)

Hey lads, look at this bugger, he wants a fight. Hey Tramp d’ya wanna

come back for a drink?


The doorman keeps looking over. The three Farmers' stop and look at the doorman.

The dog also sees the doorman and starts crying. The Tramp puts his arms down by his sides,seriously, as he too eyes the doorman suspiciously.


Oh no! the door man keeps looking over, I told ya we’re going to get in

trouble. He’ll ring the police now.


For fucks sake, we’re not breaking any laws! We’ve done nowt! Nowt!

(Looking sheepishly at Peter)

Well not yet anyways.............

The Farmers' continue laughing and giggling. Then The Tramp says something in Dutch and starts looking scared and anxious. The Farmers' look back and forth between the doorman The Tramp and the dog. They also start to look scared and anxious too.


Right lads, are we going to do this or not?

The Farmers' look flustered and frustrated. They are still eye balling the door man, who is by now constantly looking over because of their suspicious behaviour .


(talking to Peter)

Wait until the silly wanker in the uniform looks away and we’ll get the smelly

bastard in then.

As the doorman walks over to a cab, to help out an attractive young lady in a short skirt , The Farmers' physically pick up The Tramp and his dog (obviously against their will) and a fair amount of rough and tumble ensues, as The Farmers' try to be as inconspicuous as possible. Des grabs Chicken’s extra, extra large `Welcome to Sellafield’ sweat shirt and pulls it over The Tramps head. Chicken moans briefly about the stench of The Tramp. Peter bungs the dog under his coat, even though the dogs two back legs are hanging out. The Farmers' then attempt to rapidly escort the pair (against their will) back into the hotel.

Des manoeuvres Chicken to the elevator, pushing and shoving him behind plants, luggage, people and floral displays ect. Because Chicken is so fat, people in reception try to be polite

and not stare and so the dog really makes no difference to him at all….until it barks. Immediately, one of the super-chick-Receptionists' looks up at Chicken. Chicken gulps guiltily, turns bright red but manages to keep a straight face. Chicken maintains continued eye contact with the Receptionist. Embarrassed and appalled at the same time, the Receptionist begins to budge about uneasily in her seat. Chicken continues to stare back at her. After a couple of seconds, she looks back down to her book, believing she misheard the bark. The dog barks again.


Hell fire! Shut that dog up will ya!


(To Des under his breath)

How am I meant to do that Desmond?

Peter clutches on to the dog for dear life. Des does a double take at Peter, for calling him Desmond. Des’s face drops and is just about to lunge for Peter again, when Chicken shouts out.



Everybody in reception looks up at The Farmers'. The Farmers' freeze in their tracks and stare back at everyone. Next The Tramp starts moaning and trying to fight his way out of Chicken’s sweat shirt. Des (from over the top of Chicken’s sweat shirt) clamps his hand over The Tramps mouth, to try to muffle his cries.

Meanwhile the eastern European Bell Boy (who is skiving behind a large plant) has quietly observed the whole episode and is laughing his head off.


(Whispers to The Tramp, from over the top of Chicken’s stomach)

Ya fucking stink man, ya smell worse than one of me pigs….now

keep quiet and you wont get hurt.

As soon as Des says the word `hurt’ The Tramp starts freaking out. He begins to struggle violently, in a vain attempt to get away. Des then manoeuvres The Tramp into a headlock, under Chicken’s shirt. This all looks very, very strange indeed. Everyone in reception is still starring at them. Most people look horrified.


(whispering to Des through clenched teeth)

What do ya mean hurt? What do ya mean? What did you say that for?

Why? What you are you gona do to the poor bastard? What d'ya mean?

Oh no!…this is out of order! It’s bad karma! I don’t know what me Mam

would say about this!

States Chicken with tears in his eyes, as he holds The Tramp under his sweat shirt. Everyone in reception is still looking over to The Farmers' and the scene they are making.


(to Chicken through gritted teeth)

If you don’t shut up, I’ll maim you too, you fat bastard. Now

shut up and chill out, we're on 'oliday.......remember!

The three Farmers move slowly through reception, in a bid to get to the lift.

Once they stand by the lift, they are not really concealing anything. Everyone can see the dogs legs and the body of The Tramp, from under Chickens sweat shirt.

At this upmarket hotel, everyone appears too scared to say anything or to approach the Farmers'. As the elevator comes down, the doors open and the bell pings loudly. The doors open, to a young, honeymooning couple, who are snogging passionately in the elevator.

Peter dives forth into the elevator, arms stretched out in front of him and grabs the couple violently (by both their collars) and drags them out, as fast as possible. As the couple are so in love, they fail to realise that they have just been dragged out of the elevator and happily carry on snogging, as they are flung out in reception.

Finally The Farmers' get The Tramp and the dog, in to the elevator. The Farmers'’ endure an agonising couple of seconds, starring straight ahead into reception, waiting for the doors of the elevator, to close.

Everyone in reception is still staring speechless at them. While enduring these agonising couple of seconds (waiting for the elevator doors to close) Peter can’t take his eyes off the snogging honeymooning couple. He tries desperately to turn away but he can’t. He huffs, puffs and tuts loudly,out of; bitterness and jealousy and also self-hatred because he can’t stop looking at them. Des clocks him doing this and laughs at him.

Meanwhile the husband of the snogging honeymooning couple, begins to passionately kiss, all the way down his wife’s neck. The Farmers'’ eyes nearly pop out of their heads, as the honeymooning couples passions, know no bounds. As the woman starts to moan with pleasure, Peter himself, exhales a loud moan.


(rolling his eyes)

Oh no! that’s all we need.


(observing Peter thoughtfully)

You’re a bitter bugger, aint ya lad?

Des bursts out laughing at Peter.

Just then The Tramp belches loudly from under Chicken’s sweat shirt. Des and Peter look at Chicken’s stomach. Chicken looks down at his own stomach.

The startled, snogging, honeymooning couple, stop kissing and look at The Farmers'.

Peter (who has the dogs legs hanging out under his jacket) raises his eyebrows to the ceiling and shakes his head and exhales again loudly, Before looking back at the couple and saying


How do.

Des stands rooted to the spot, smiling through gritted teeth, like an escaped mental patient and Chicken (knowing he must do something drastic) slowly smiles at the honeymooning wife and lasciviously licks his lips, in a sexual manner.

The honeymooning couple look horrified. The elevator doors close just in the nick of time, to save their skins.

Once the doors close, The Farmers' more or less collapse with relief!

Peter drops the dog and we hear it yelp and Chicken removes his `Welcome to Sellafield’ sweatshirt, from The Tramps head.

The Tramp falls on the floor, gasping for air, looking like his having an asthma attack. Eventually after the farcical struggle of a lifetime, The Farmers' successfully smuggle both The Tramp and the dog, back into their `Suite’.

Once in The Suite, The Farmers' more or less collapse with relief.

As soon as The Tramp enters the Royal Suite, he freezes on the spot. His face drops, he realises that he has had a result. The Tramp breaks into a broad smile, as he lovingly surveys the magnificent, resplendent `Royal Suite’. Then as if anticipating the crazy weekend ahead of them, all three men and The Tramp, slowly turn to face each other and big smiles stretch across their faces. On queue (as if by magic) the dog barks, in seeming agreement.


Basically (Upon Des’s orders) all four of the characters proceed to sit on the carpet and get stoned and drunk. They play snap with some sordid pornographic cards, that Des had bought that day. In the middle of them having a right laugh, Chicken picks up the phone and orders room service for The Tramp (who is literally starving) The Tramp, jumps forward and snatches the phone from Chicken and orders himself a veritable feast, in fluent Dutch. When Room Service arrive, four waiters stroll in pushing four different trolleys filled with gourmet food. Peter is horrified.


How much is this gonna cost?

He moans, rubbing his scalp and sobering up in a nanosecond.


Shut up! you pay for nowt in the village, NOWT… you tight twat.


The poor man's starving, your not going to begrudge him food?

I’ll pay for it. Let the poor bugger eat...how can you be so


The Farmers' all sit and stare at each other in silence. Chicken looks upset, Peter looks pissed off and Des just shakes his head at Peter. Then they just sit and avidly watch The Tramp and his dog, hungrily moreover frantically, tucking in to the mountain of food. They stare at The Tramp, as if they are watching TV. After about 15 minutes Des says;


Aye lads, I told you this were a good idea. I’ve never had a Tramp in

me company before.


Me neither…well you can’t count running one down on your quad bike can ya?


Nay lad, your not still worried about that are ya ?

That were an accident remember. Tramp shouldn’t have been asleep on ya

Dad’s land and anyway, Coroner said it were `Accidental Death'….nay

lad don’t be still troubling yer self over that incident anymore!

And anyway, I'd have mowed down the bugger too, if I'd have found him

on my land. Now let's forget that episode and aye Des, this is the first time

that I've had a tramp in me company too and hopefully the last. I can

see its going to be costly.


Oh stop mithering both of ya! Peter stop thinking about a pound note for

a change and Chicken lad, you heard what Coroner said..…….alright we know

ya mowed him down, cos ya couldn’t drive that new quad bike but it could

have been an accident, so move on Chicken lad, move on! Who cares about Tramps

aye? No fucker does. Not their families, not the Government. Come to think

of it….you done the bugger a favour, killing him. Pete lad, ring back

down to room service and order yourself a `Shit Cocktail'

The farmers start to laugh but soon enough they are back staring at The Tramp.

Chicken, pulls a sympathetic face. Peter now has a frown on his face and Des is grinning like a lunatic.

The Tramp briefly looks up at The Farmers', does a double take, smiles at them and bares his blacked teeth, gratefully. The Tramp looks even uglier when he smiles.

The Farmer’s primarily, recoil in undiluted horror, at the sight of The Tramp's teeth.

The Farmers' are then Paradoxically mesmerised, by the utter decay and spectre of the; horrid, decaying, blackened and yellow teeth. The Farmers' all lean in closer, to get a better look at them. The Farmers' are thus consumed by boundless, uncontrollable and hysterical laughter.


(laughing to Des)

I’ve never seen teeth like it!……it’s….it’s…their rotten!


(disagreeing with Peter)

Aye, lad but it’s fucking magic. Get a good look at them while ya can, cos we’re

never going to see owt else like it, ever again, owt! Who's teeth ever looked like

that? That's what a corpses mouths must look like.


Is that what that smell is?


Aye it must be....Is it Gangrene that dead people get?


How would I know?



Shall I try to telephone a dentist?


(jumping to his feet and throwing his hands above his head and screaming manically)

What!!!!! Are you mental? Where would they start? No one would go

near that! And anyway, you'd need a mortgage! A mortgage!

It would cost a fortune! Fortune! Listen lad, you wouldn't

need a mere mortal dentist, for a dental job like that! You'd need

Isumbard kingdom Brunel! Even he wouldn't take a job like that on!

His not industrious enough! and in his defence, its a bloody good job his

dead! Do you really think ANYONE dead or alive, would put their hands

in THAT mouth? and..and haven't Dentists' got the highest suicide rates,

any profession? Even normal suicide wouldn't cover that! The

dentist would have to turn into a suicide bomber, to purge himself. Never

mind Al Queda, Chicken lad, we'd have something far more serious

on our hands, than that lot,! Chicken, you have to toughen up love....that's..

that's just madness! Madness! Please don't ever say anything stupid, like

that again!, I'll have a bloody brain haemorrhage.

Chicken looks disappointed by Peter’s response. Chickens shoulders drop, as he hangs his head and looks sad. Des looks perplexed at Peter.


Who the fucks Isabeard?You know some funny people you two

twats, don’t ya! Is-got-a-beard who? And Kingdom did you say?

I’ve heard it all now; the Willy’s-Worth-it-daffodil-man, Annie

Frankie the prostitute from t’plane and Jesus Christ superstar!

Why don’t I know any of these folk? Where’s it all going to end? Where

I ask ya? where?....it's that Internet aint it!

Peter and Chicken say nothing, as Des shakes his head in despair. After a few seconds, Des becomes totally engrossed with watching The Tramp again. Because of this, Chicken attempts to sneak away, to the other end of The Suite, to phone his mother. Just as Chicken picks up the phone.


Hello Mam

Des (who has followed him and is standing directly behind him) catches him.


Oh no you don’t, you fat bastard!

Des, snatches the receiver off Chicken and slams it down. Chicken becomes distressed.


Back in England. Chicken’s mother, is left holding the phone. She looks pained and puzzled. Realising that it was her son on the other end of the phone.


The Farmers' spend the rest of the night, drinking and watching The Tramp. Eventually after all three men have finished, drinking and smoking copious amounts of grass, they all pass out on the carpet. They fail to make it to the beds. The dog accidentally knocks over a bottle of amyl nitrate and it soaks straight into the luxurious carpet.


The Three Farmers' wake up. The Tramp and the dog are still comatose. The dog is on his back, in an unusual position and The Tramp is spread-eagled, mouth wide open, snoring like crazy. The Farmers' remark on the stench of The Tramp.


Hurry up lads, I want to catch the all inclusive free breakfast

Des and Chicken look at each other and shake their heads at Peter but then with no more thought to him or The Tramp, The Farmers' rush out and put the ``Do not disturb sign’’ on The Suite door.

The Farmers' spend the day; drinking, eating and sight seeing. Finally in the late afternoon, tired, they stagger back to the hotel. The Farmers' swagger through reception (laughing and shouting loudly) the other guests, The Manager and the Receptionist’s, are rendered dumbfounded, by their; loud colloquial speech patterns and traditional farmer’s dress. The

more people stare, the more Des plays up to it, talking about inseminating pigs and slaughtering sheep. Audible gasps can be heard coming from the other guests.


Two really camp transvestites, dripping with diamonds, walk through the reception area hand-in –hand, decked out in gold Versace, with matching accessories. One has a tiny, hairless pooch, shoved under his arm pit.

Des sees the couple and stops dead in his tracks. Standing motionless, He slowly lifts his finger and while pointing at them directly, He states loudly, for the entire world to hear;


Jesus Christ and Mary Mother of God!… What the fuck is THAT? look at

t`state a THAT! …..one looks like a lad, dressed as a woman, trying to act

as a hotel manager and t’other looks like a lad, dressed as a woman,

dressed as a lorry driver. What the fucks..going on in this place

like?…. It’s that culture thing again, aint it? Where have I bought us?

Ya don’t get this up north! One false move in the village, dressed like that

and ya’d get knocked into the middle of next week and if ya' get a dog,

get a dog…. I’ve seen bigger rats than that, in Borough Market, London!

Me father would have that dog on toast for his tea…literally! I’ve

never seen owt like it. Has the dog had chemotherapy? That’s what

it looks like. It’s got no hair!......Hey and if this is what you call

culture, you can stick it up ya arse!


(in all seriousness)

I think they already do.

Des double takes at Peter, shocked and appalled. Chicken cringes.


(looking embarrassed)

Well so I’ve heard. Not that I would know like.


(Horrified when realising what Peter means)

So you’ve heard from whom? The Willys-Worth-It-man I suppose?

His probably got a dead daff, stuck up his arse too. Any how, how

d’ya get into a conversation like that lad?


I read it in `The Sun ‘ newspaper.


You can read joined up writing, can ya like?


It’s in print.



The three Farmers' look vacantly at each other for a couple of seconds before returning to stare at the ostentatious, gay couple, as they walk through reception. After a couple of seconds, Des and Peter burst in to hysterical laughter. Chicken just looks away, very

embarrassed. As the two pretentious, Versace clad, perma-tanned, bleached blonde individuals, pass The Farmers', they stop dead in their designer tracks and look down their noses at Des, Peter and Chicken. Des wrinkles up his nose, at the overbearing smell of perfume and blatantly waves his big rough hand, in front of his face, in protest at the pungent smell.


(directly to the two transvestites)

I’ve seen ex-coppers with better dress sense than you two.

The two transvestites, momentarily stunned by Peter’s remark (as its the worst insult that they have ever had) stop and stare at him for two seconds and then they stick their noses in the air again and continue walking past, just as if they were on a catwalk.


(to Peter)

I’m fucking speechless man….wait until I get me hands on that poncey

travel agent I’m going to kill him! ...he must be one of them….too…

in that `Culture Club'. I’m gona kill the ponce, when I get back t’ market.

Des is still pointing at the two men, as they leave the hotel.

Just then the two Japanese tourists from the suite next door, pass by. They look at each other and shake their heads dismissively, at Des’s bad manners.


An extremely embarrassed Hotel Manager (who is quite clearly homosexual himself) quickly steps forward from nowhere. He is flushed bright red with anger, after watching the whole

scenario, from behind the reception desk. Chicken notices him coming towards them, before anyone else.


(to himself and just under his breath)

Oh no!

As The Manager approaches The Farmers', he struggles to manifest a synthetic smile. Inside He is absolutely seething at their homophobia.


(to Des)

Sir….this is Amsterdam. Now would you mind keeping your voice down, for

the sake of the other guests.


Fuck the other guests, don’t tell me what to do, I’m a paying customer

and I’m on me ‘olidays. Now get lost and pester someone else.

The other guests, that are milling around in reception, look shocked by Des’s brashness.

Des and The Manager stand squaring up to each other, as if they are two boxers.

The Bell Boy (who is pretending to tie his shoe lace, so that he can listen in and watch the action) bursts out laughing.

The Manager, sees the Bell Boy and so shoots him a filthy look. The Bell Boy (in a desperate attempt to impress his boss and to make himself look busy) wrestles a giant Louis Vitton bag out of the hand, of an unwilling female guest. A frantic tug of war ensues between the Bell Boy and the woman.

The Manger turns his attention back to The Farmers'.

For fear of losing it with Des, The Manager, takes a step back, inhales a very, very deep, long breath and stops to twiddle with his ultra fine, handle bar moustache. After composing himself, He addresses Des.


Perhaps Sir could be a little more discreet?


(turning to Peter)

What the does discwreet mean?

Chicken is mortified.


(turning to the Manager quickly)

Sorry about this but we’re on holiday and a bit drunk. We’ll go straight

to our room.

The Hotel Manager, physically flinches backwards and his idiosyncratic facial tick, instantly kicks in, as soon as Chicken, has said the word `Room’. Peter and Des's facial expressions, express their surprise reaction to The Manager's ` Tick' and they too physically jump back, alarmed.


(adjusting his collar anxiously)

Sir, as I have said, it is not a room. Rooms are for B & B’s. Yours is

a `Suite’….The Royal Suite, in fact. The last person to stay in The

Royal Suite, was the Sultan of Brunei, I’ll have you know.

Des looks supremely unimpressed. Peter just looks bored and glances at his finger nails.


A sultana stayed in our room?


(under his breath)

Oh here we go.

The Managers face is a picture. He is bright red and seething, looking as if he is at breaking and boiling point. His whole body looks as if it will go into a convulsion, at any moment. Luckily Peter intervenes before Des can do anything else, to provoke him.


(stepping forward to the Manager)

Keep ya knickers on lad. You looked as if you’d had a death in the

family; when lad only said the word `room’……………it ain't end of

world like......go to Afghanistan if ya need a real problem.

(Turning his head towards Des, while referring to The Manager, Peter says under his breath)


Peter and Des look at each other and burst out laughing, even Chicken laughs.


What was that you said Sir?


(raising the level of his voice and lifting his chin in the air)

I said lad, the customer is always right. Now we’ve got as much right

as any other `sultana’, to be here, so if ya don’t mind…we’re on our

holidays........(under his breath again) and I said ` twat'. Come on lads,

let's get t'room, before the army starts recruiting homosexuals.

The Manager starts shaking, as Des laughs loudly in his face. Chicken keeps his head down and Peter just continues to shake his head, deadpan,at The Managers: pretentious, arrogant snobbery. Peter pushes Des towards the elevator.


(not looking pleased, while talking to Des)

Come on lad, before we get in to trouble......like we did in Blackpool... not that

I'm mentioning, owt about owt or owt about donkey excrement.


I knew that you'd bring it up! Look How was I to know, that that went flying

in the direction of the `Salvation Army'......fucking religious folk.....

they should learn how to duck.


Five hours I were in that Police cell, FIVE hours!


It weren't my fault, that they didn't see me throw it.


You could have owned up!


What would have been the fun in that? We were on holiday.


(pushing Des into the elevator)

Just get in lift lad and stop causing trouble.

Chicken follows on. The Farmers' get in the elevator. Once the doors close, Peter, Des and Chicken remain silent.


Naturally The Farmers' assume that once they get back to `The Suite’ The Tramp will have let himself out. Wrong. When they get back to The Suite, The Tramp and the dog are still passed out on the carpet. What is plainly obvious is that, since The Farmers' have been gone;

  • The Tramp had finished off the last bottle of vodka and the mini bar is completely dry.

  • The Tramp has eaten everything.

  • The Tramp has ordered more food, from room service. (for himself and for the dog)

All The Farmers' can do is laugh. They notice that The Suite is slightly smelly, but apathetic about the status quo, unshaven, unwashed and in good spirits, they grab some more cash and leave `The Suite’

The Farmers' spend the rest of Saturday night clubbing, bar hopping and laughing at the red-light district. The Farmers' have terrible trouble with `The Culture’.

During the evening Chicken makes several attempts to sneak off and phone his mother. Des catches him every single time. Upon catching him for the last time, Des grabs Chicken’s mobile phone and dials Chicken’s mother’s telephone number. It starts to ring. She picks up.








Is this Chicken’s mother?



Yes it is Desmond. What do you want?



I am just phoning to tell you, that your lad has diarrhoea, sickness and

alcoholic poisoning and he wants to come home but there’s a small problem,

I’ve thrown his passport in sea. Cheerio then…

Des ends the call and promptly throws Chicken’s mobile into the road, into the path of an oncoming Heineken Lorry.




Of a lorry going over the phone and then of Chicken’s mother (in Cumbria) looking at the phone before she puts it down and bursts into tears.


Chicken looks devastated, while Des laughs like a lunatic. Peter looks at Chicken with some sympathy.


  • The Tramp has come around from his coma and ordered more room service.

  • The Tramp and the dog have literally eaten themselves sick. (The Tramp in the B Day, the dog in the corner)

  • The Tramp has smoked ten cigars, from the box that Peter had bought from duty free.

  • There is now a substantial pile of dirty plates and over flowing ashtrays everywhere.

  • The Tramp and the dog have helped themselves to a bath. Post-bath; the bathroom is completely trashed. All the Egyptian cotton towels had been used.

  • Nearly all The Farmers'’ toiletries have been used.

  • There are rings and rings, of dirt around the bath. The plughole is blocked with human and K9 hair.

  • All the toilet rolls have been utilised for something horribly unknown.

  • Mud, dirt and splashes of dirty water are everywhere, over the tiles, the ceiling, the walls, the mirrors and the floor (due mostly to the dog shaking himself).

  • The Tramp has cut his and the dogs toenails. There is a pile of, thick, yellow, toenail clippings, in front of the television.

  • The Tramp had been through Peter’s bag and is now decked out in one of Peter’s most expensive shirts.

  • The Tramp has washed all of his cloths in the bath and has run a washing line (made out of the curtain tie backs) from one side of the hotel suite to the other, in front of the huge beautiful, ornate windows.

  • The Tramp using Peter’s expensive electric shaver, has cut his and the dogs hair (badly) and broken the saver.

The carpet therefore is now strewn with;

  • fleas (from the dog and The Tramp)

  • Human and K9 Yellow toenails.

  • Human and K9 dirty hair.

  • Elastic bands (from The Tramps boots; which are now

rested on top of the television)

  • Dirty foot and dog prints.

  • Dirty towels.

  • Dirty water.

  • Dirty plates and glasses.

  • Spilt ashtrays and cigarette burns.

  • Empty bottles of everything, including alcohol, amyll

nitrate, aftershave and shampoo are everywhere.

  • Dog’s excrement, urine and vomit.

  • Tramps vomit.

After all the above action, the exhausted but newly bathed and fed, Tramp and dog, retire into one of The Suites Queen-sized beds. The Tramp and dog alike, suffer from constant flatulence.

The spectacle of The Royal Suite is exceptional, unique, smelly and highly entertaining. It is more or less, totally ruined.



The three Farmers open The Suite door, to the stench and the ghoulish spectre, of the now more or less, completely trashed Suite. Just a second before The Farmers'’ are about to walk in to their Suite, the Japanese couple, from next door, are also walking back to their suite. The Japanese couple, stop, smile politely and bow their heads in respect. They then catch a very brief glimpse, of the inside of The Farmers'’ Suite, through a gap in the door. Shocked at what they have seen, the Japanese couple stop dead in their tracks and throw their hands up over their mouths in repulsion. Panic stricken, the Japanese lady frantically searches through her handbag, to find their door pass, so that they can get away from The Farmers'’, as quick as they possibly can.

Des turns to peter


What the hell’s wrong wi’ her like?

Peter shakes his head vacantly and shrugs his shoulders.


Their foreigners, what d'ya expect?

The three Farmers have still not looked inside their Suite yet. The Japanese couple slam their door shut and so The Farmers'’, turn to walk into their Suite.

They are then hit with the unexpected spectre of the devastation. Momentarily The Farmers'’ stagger backwards, open mouthed and incomplete shock. After 60 silent seconds of surveying the damage, The Farmers'’ turn to each other and collapse in absolute hysterics. Eventually they stop laughing. Peter (his face dropping deadpan to the floor) steps forward and points slowly to something on the other side of the Suite. At first he opens his mouth to speak but nothing will come out. He mouths silently, until a squeaky sound eventually comes out but it’s still incoherent to the other Farmers. Eventually after several attempts;


(to Des and Chicken)

W...w....what’s that?

Des and Chicken, have not yet noticed, to what Peter is referring. Des and Chicken, look around The Suite but shrug their shoulders because they do not know what Peter is referring to. Next Peter starts walking slowly , towards the front of The Suite. Peter still has his arm in the air pointing to something unknown. Des and Chicken follow his line of sight. The three Farmers, all walk silently forward, until they get to what Peter is pointing to. `It' is a `washing line’. On it, is pegged an assortment of badly decaying clothing. Once they see the washing line, Des and Chicken gasp in shock and disgust. Peter, remains standing, still pointing and still in shock. Des turns to Peter, who is standing ridged, expressionless and speechless.


What’s wrong with that lad? It’s only a washing line.


A What?


It’s a washing line lad. You wouldn’t know what one was, ‘cos ya wife done

nowt, before she fucked off with that posh, student ponce.


(Sarcastically to Des)

Least Peter had a wife.


(turning to Chicken)

What ya saying lad?




And what would you know about wives and washing lines?...ya cheeky fat bastard.

You don’t need a wife anyway, Ya mother does everything for you, including

pegging, your dirty, great, big, fat pants, out on the line. Shame we can’t

harvest the wind power, they generate when they’re blowing on the line.

We wouldn’t need any wind turbines, off the coast of Cumbria then….

Chicken lad, ya pants are the countries answer to renewable, green energy.

See Chicken lad, you could be good for something.


(agreeing with Des)

Aye, renewable power pants...magic that.


(Ignoring both Des’s and Peters comment)

We’re in trouble now..I knew we would get arrested again. I cant

believe it…a washing line, in this room!


(being sarcastic)



Sorry.... I meant, I mean Suite. The Suite, The Royale Suite


Aye lad. Remember rooms are for B&B’s. Anyway Des, if you think I’m paying

for the damage..I’m not paying for owt! And even if we did pay for it, we’d be

bankrupt! The curtains alone probably cost £10,000!.....I hope you

didn't pay a deposit?

Des's face drops. Peter and Chicken, both look at him concerned.


(to Peter winding him up)

Nay lad. You don’t pay a deposit. It ain’t fucking Butlins. but I did

book it all in your name.

Just before Peter has time to react. Des notices something out of the corner of his eye. Then in barely a whisper, Des points to something and says


Those aren’t what I think they are, are they?

Des starts walking slowly and sombrely, towards the window, until he is standing in front of the washing line. Des is pointing to a garment which is hanging on `the line’.

Peter and Chicken also silently step forward. All are rendered dumbfounded. Chicken slowly lifts a trembling pointing finger to garment in question.


(in a whisper)

Underpants, they’re underpants.

Peter nervously takes his flat cap off and looks at Des, waiting for his reaction.



(to Chicken)

Aye lad that they are...and and their a big pair at that.


I’ve seen the lot now…I thought I’d seen some bad pants in my

time, including the pheasant plucker’s at Flockborough but…them there, have

got to be the worse pair, I’ve ever seen in my entire life!! Have a look

at the undercarriage! That’s disgusting that is! What’s the point in ’em,

they’re barely still together. There must be every colour of the rainbow, in

them! They’re disgusting and the best of it is, is that they be hanging in

my fucking, stinking, dirty, smelly, room…



(Cautiously correcting Des)

Suite…………Des Suite.

Des turns frowning to Chicken. Peter says nothing but keeps shaking his head, empathising with everything but thinking only about the financial implications, of the destruction of The Suite.


Eh, I tell ya what though lads, that’s got to be the funniest thing I’ve

ever seen in my entire life. A washing line, with the worse pair of pants

in the world on em’, running through my fucking, Louis fandango-


.......I mean Suite. It were worth paying the money, just to see that!...

that’s unique that there. You can't put a price on that! Priceless!


Aye lad..your right there. I seen nowt like it ever and I wouldn’t

want to again either. What are we going to do about the damage? Like I

said, I'm not paying for it.

Peter begins anxiously scratching his scalp, stressed. Chicken just stands shaking his head, looking scared.


(turning to Peter, thinking that he is going to get some support)

I knew it was all gonna end in tears this! I shouldn’t have come!…if only I’d

listened to me Mam . There’s always nowt but trouble with you Des.

I saw it coming, just as if it were a big bloody freight train!

Des looks at Chicken with contempt but unusually, he refrains from commenting, as he, Peter and Chicken, are all still standing motionless, in front of the pants.


Unknown to The Farmers', the Bell Boy has been standing directly behind them, in the door way and has been silently observing them.


Des charges towards The Pants (like the silver back gorilla that he is) and snatches them from `The Washing Line’ and in a fit of anger and disgust, he venomously throws them, through `The Suites’, open French windows and into the street below.

Chicken, Peter and the Bell Boy, race towards the balcony, in a bid to witness the descent of `The Pants’. The Farmers'’ still haven’t noticed the Bell Boy is in their Suite yet.

Once the three Farmers' and the Bell Boy are all out on the balcony, they look down into the street below and see that `The pants’ have fallen, on to the head of a passing Senior Citizen, who is walking his sausage dog. The Farmers'’ watch in hilarious incredulity, as the Senior Citizen, appears to have the nearest thing to an anaphylactic shock, as he proceeds to writhe, jump and fling himself about, in a furious attempt to dislodge `The Pants’ from his bald head. After a while, the Senior Citizen, manages to get `The Pants’, off his head. There is the added entertainment value, of watching the Senior Citizen’s scream, as he discovers what has actually hit him and had been on his head. The Senior Citizen is now shaking and shouting. The Farmers' laugh out loud at the old man. Not wanting to be seen, The Farmers' run back inside `The Suite’ and collapse on to one of the beds laughing hysterically like naughty schoolboys. As yet The Farmers' have still not realised that the Eastern European Bell Boy is in the Suite with them.


Zat funny…very good..you boys funny

The Farmers' immediately cease to laugh. Their faces drop. They all instantly sit up on the huge bed and look at the Bell Boy. All the men do an astonished and shocked double take, at the presence of the Bell Boy. The Bell Boy meanwhile continues to lay on the bed blissfully laughing.



What the fuck you doing in here!

Peter and Chicken jump off the bed to their feet. The Farmers' start flapping about panic bound. The Bell Boy stops laughing and sits up looking at The Farmers' concerned faces. Des waits for an answer.


I followz youz in.



Oh no! NO!


(to Des)

The lad’s gonna grass us up!


No no! thiz funny…I like youz EnglishZ.....


Farmers lad. We’re pig farmers,


YESZ pigsZ. I knowz

Peter’s voice trails off, as deep in thought, he contemplates that they, may very well, be seen as pigs, in the eyes of the staff.


Yez whatever youz zay iz funny.

The Bell Boy remains as smiley and jovial as ever. This is in stark juxtaposition to Pe

ter’s tormented psyche. Peter is used to dealing constantly with hostility and so he is completely fazed by the Bell Boys, remarkable and totally unrelenting cheerfulness. Peter crinkles his brow, thoughtfully and stares at the Bell Boy fascinated, as he has not ever encountered someone as pleasant.

Des double takes at Peter’s unusual facial expression. When Des realises that Peter is completely enthralled by the Bell Boy and unlikely to close the Suite door, he runs to do it himself and slams it shut. The slamming of the door,jolts Peter out of his hypnotic state. The Bell Boy is still sitting up on the bed, grinning broadly.

Des, starts frantically pacing up and down, stressed out because of the presence of the Bell Boy.



(Innocently and curiously pointing to the sleeping Tramp and dog)

Who iz zis?


(in despair)

Oh no! hell fire! We’re in trouble now.


(clasping his hands, to his temples)

And there’s me half an hour ago, thinking things couldn’t get worse…I’m

such a fool....such a fool!


Aye ya not wrong there lad.



The completely irate and hysterical Senior Citizen, marches straight into the hotel reception, and slamms ‘The Pants’, the: grey, disgusting, holey, withered, stained and worn out pants, onto the magnificent marble reception desk.

Both glamorous Receptionists'’ scream simultaneously as they are both: hit with the spectacle of `The pants’ and frightened by the Senior Citizen, who they suspect to be a twisted pervert.

As a reflex action against The Receptionists' screams: the Senior Citizen’s dog, rears up on its minuscule back legs and starts yapping manically and the Senior Citizen starts hyperventilating, shaking and sweating, with rage and shock. Their screams also cause the, Hotel Manager to drop the flower arrangement that he is lovingly positioning in the middle of a beautiful table. The vase smashes and water, glass and flowers, cascade everywhere.

Two elderly American tourists (in Burberry macks and dark sunglasses) freeze in their tracks, as their entrance into the elevator is momentarily suspended by the bizarre and unfolding incident.

In the unfolding scenario, it becomes hard to distinguish, who is more afraid of whom. The Hotel Manager flounders desperately, in an extreme, effeminate pickle. At one stage, he more or less spins in a complete circle as: the dog, the Senior Citizen, both Receptionists', the two voyeuristic Americans and the other guests in reception, all try to comprehend what is happening. Instantaneously, the camp Manager runs to the ultra Grande reception desk. When he gets there, he sees for himself, for the first time, `The pants’ which are smack bang in the middle of the desk (ironically, next to the visitors book)


(Shouting at the severely distressed Senior Citizen)

Sir! Are those your pants!

The Senior Citizen (bright red and indignant) rears up (just like his small dog)



Certainly not, how dare you!..I’ve never been so insulted in all my life!

...I’d have to be classed as clinically insane, to wear those!

The Hotel Manager looks physically taken a back, as the Senior Citizen, attempts to explain what had happened.

The two Receptionists' stare at each other for 30 seconds, with their lip gloss laden, surgically enhanced, mouths open. The Receptionists' then look back and forth

between, The Pants, The Hotel manager and the Senior Citizen, like spectators at Wimbledon


I was taking my trusted companion, Caesar for a walk, when someone

from this very hotel threw `THOSE’ from the balcony, of one of YOUR

rooms. Sir… they landed square upon my head!

The Senior Citizen took a quick look down at his dog Caesar, before pointing to his very red, shiny bald head. The Receptionists', stare in fascination at his bald head. While bang on queue, The Manager’s facial tick, kicks in, at the Senior Citizens misuse of the word `rooms’


First of all Sir, they are not rooms. Rooms are for B&B’s. We have

a selection of Suites’ Sir….Suites here.



Do you think I care about what your rooms are called? Most certainly

I do not. Now are you going to let me finish, with out interrupting me Sir?


(Nodding his head regally)

Yes Sir, sorry Sir……. do continue.

The Senior Citizen takes a very long, deep and melodramatic breath before he continues;


Sir I have lived in Amsterdam all my life, and believe me, I have seen

some things in my time, including `The Hermaphrodite Convention Of

1992', but never ever, have I seen anything, as outrageous! and

disgusting! as this!…that…those!’

The Senior Citizen shouted loudly and aggressively, while stabbing the festering pants, with his index finger, as he elucidated each point.

The Hotel Manager, The Receptionists'’, the nosey American tourists and everyone else who is watching the who-har in reception, all recoil in horror, each time the Senior Citizen, stabs the festering pants, with his finger. Every time the Senior Citizen’s finger, stabs the pants, one of the Receptionists' says; `Ooh!’ Then in a camaraderie of sorts, the other receptionist, bursts into tears and runs off to the lavatory. None of this is wasted upon the elderly American tourists', who are in voyeuristic utopia.


(turning to his wife)

Gee, I didn’t think this sort of thing happened in Europe.

Then giving in to his curiosity, the American tourist, gingerly saunters closer to the reception desk, for a closer look. He crooks his neck and intimately inspects `The Pants', where upon, he appears to silently and philosophically, ponder the situation. After quite a few pregnant seconds,He shakes his head, in a depressively derogatory manner. After taking a deep breath, he takes one fleeting look at his wife and then stretches over and writes a brief paragraph in the `Visitors Book'. After acknowledging his own words, with a brief shake of his head and a tiny chuckle, He looks around, at his overly glamorous wife and says


Come on Martha..lets get out of here….I don’t care much for

this place. Let’s fly to Paris. We can go stay at The Ritz! and better still!

we can go visit, where Princess Diana was killed!


That would be Great! Just great!

Exclaims an over excited, macabre Martha.

The rest of the guests in reception, just look at the American in horror, as he mentions Diana. But just before the American tourists' leave entirely, the gentleman takes his Cannon camera from around his neck and leans even, closer to `The Pants’ and takes a photograph of them.

Everybody in reception makes suitable noises of disgust and astonishment. The Manager clutches his chest, as if he is about to have a heart attack. Nobody can believe that he has just taken a picture of `The Pants’. The American gentleman, glances up and sees the looks of repugnance, on the faces of the other guests (in particular, the Senior Citizen)

Then by way of an explanation he says;


That’s for the grand kids…they love British toilet humour, they

think it's adorable.

The Manager silently mouths the word `adorable' to himself, as he tries to rationalise it, in his brain.

The American couple, then turn their backs on the reception area, hold their heads high and walk away, completely vindicated. The Manager is just speechless. He looks at the Senior Citizen. The Senior Citizen looks at him.


Really!...how disrespectful and thoroughly repulsive and rude!...

This isn’t a joke and what’s so Funny about British toilet humour?

I think it’s nauseating!......nauseating!

Shouts the Senior Citizen even more disgusted and irate than before! Now the Senior Citizens regal composure, is beginning to crumble. The one remaining receptionist, stifles a giggle on the back of her perfectly manicured hand. Then;


`The Pants’ begin to very, very slowly, slide off the sleek marble reception desk. People begin to catch their breath but No one dares catch the pants and so they fall on to the head of Caesar, the sausage dog. Caesar starts going nuts.


Someone call the Dutch equivalent of the RSPCA, quickly!

Caesar begins running in a circle, trying to dislodge `The Pants’ off his head. Caesar eventually manages to shake the pants off. He then begins to savagely attack them. The Senior Citizen screams fanatically.


(to his dog)

Caesar….. drop the pants!

The dog is going mental, growling and foaming at the mouth, as he savages `The Pants’. Meanwhile, some more guests begin to arrive at the hotel. Those who do not realise what is going on, practically run back out of the hotel reception. The Hotel Manager sees this and gets himself in even more of a state.


A frantic `tug of war’ struggle ensues; between The Senior Citizen, his companion Caesar and `The Pants’. The dog viciously bites down on to the pants with his teeth, not letting them go, as The Senior Citizen grips what he can of `The Pants’ tightly with his finger tips. Gasps of `Ooh ’and `Argh’, come from the many spectators, of the `pants tug of war’.

It comes to the point where the Senior Citizen looks exhausted. He is sweating profusely and bright red but he cannot get the pants back off his dog. Eventually the Senior Citizen, puffing and out of breath, successfully wrestles `The Pants’, euthorically off the dog. He holds them up in the air and waves the; grey, holey ,baggy, marked, smelly and stained pants triumphantly and above his head, like a flag. The Senior Citizen causes a terrible scene. Guests are fleeing in all directions, believing that a mad man is on the loose.



Look! Everyone….look at them! Just look at them!’

The Manager looks beside himself with fear.

The Senior Citizen, continues to shout and make a terrible scene. Just then (obviously exhausted from all the stress) the Senior Citizen’s head spins, his eyes cross and He staggers back two paces and looks as if he is going to pass out. The Hotel Manager attempts to go the Senior Citizens aid but the dog (who is still snarling) won’t let him get anywhere near his master. The Hotel Manager knows that the presence of `The Pants’, a dead Senior Citizen and a crazed rabid dog, are going to offend more guests and ruin the reputation of the hotel and so he is desperate to remove them all from reception, as quickly as possible.


(Authoritatively screaming like a New York cop)

Sir, I ask you to, immediately step away, from the Pants. Please, step

away from The pants!


Save yourselves and re-new your hepatitis shots, for Christ's sake!


After the terrible MALESTROM, The Manager guides the emotionally drained Senior Citizen, (sobbing) and his sausage dog (crying) into to his opulent, over the top, pink office.

Once in the office, The Manager tries desperately to placate the Senior Citizen.

The Manager attempts to give the elderly gentleman, a brandy and Caesar the dog, a bowl of water. However in his haste, The Manager mixes up both the water and the brandy and ends up giving Caesar, a bowl of brandy and the Senior Citizen a glass of neat water.

After a brief conflagration of doom, in which the dogs back legs are rendered temporarily moribund (as he refuses to give up the bowl of brandy and the Senior Citizen ends up accusing The Manager, of trying to kill his dog, thereby annihilating any forensic evidence, that may been in the dogs mouth) The Manager manages to get the Senior Citizen outside on to the pavement, to show him exactly where he was, when `The Pants’ hit him.


To The Manager’s face, as he looks up towards The Royal Suite, that The Farmers' are occupying. The Manager looks up with a look of sheer concentration on his face. He spends a

couple of minutes thinking, stroking his immaculately trimmed moustache, while smugly nodding his head.


talking to himself

I thought so…I thought so

The Manager remains calm, almost lost in thought, as he kindly places his arm around the Senior Citizen’s back and escorts him gently, back inside the hotel. As the shot fades, the Senior Citizen begins to sob gently on to The Manager's shoulder.


The three Farmers', have soon forgiven the Bell Boy for encroaching into their territory and they are all now laughing at the: destruction, The Suite, The Tramp, His manky dog, the Senior Citizen, his dog Caesar, The Pants and the Bell Boy himself.

As the Bell Boy, forgets his work ethic, he goes to help himself to a stiff drink from the mini bar. The Bell Boy sees that it is empty and is disappointed. Peter hands the Bell Boy a small bottle of vodka, that he had hidden. As the eternally grateful Bell Boy takes a large swig from the bottle, Peter takes out his camera.



Eh lads, I’m just going to take few pictures, for prosperity and

anthropological purposes. The boys from the abattoir will love this,

when they see it!

Chicken and Des nod their heads solemnly in agreement and then carry on laughing. Peter then orders The Farmers' and the Bell Boy, around the sleeping Tramp and takes a group photo. Laughing all the men migrate to the balcony, to look over and see if anything is going on.

After a few seconds, a now bored Des, leaves the group of men and saunters back over to the bed where The Tramp is still sleeping. Des leans over The Tramp and takes a good long hard look at him.


You smelt the breath on it?… I knew a paddy builder once, who used

to smell like that…….shocking. T’dog smells better than Tramp.

That breath could take paint off t’walls! Who’d be a fucking

Tramp? that’s what I wana know….who?

The other men are still standing out on the balcony,talking to themselves and so are not taking any notice of Des.


Des (fascinated by The Tramp) leans even closer to him. He studies The Tramps face, at great length. Whilst on closer inspection, Des looks down to The Tramps chest and is shocked to see a pair of big saggy breasts through Peter’s expensive shirt. Des’s face does summersaults as he comes to the realisation that The Tramp is in actual fact a WOMAN. At first He can’t believe it and so continues to look at the breasts for ages. Des has a look of sheer horror upon his face.

Eventually, Des throws his hand up over his mouth and literally jumps back in terror. Des looses the power of speech. Chicken and Peter look over at him, surprised at his reaction

but don’t yet know what is wrong with him. Des turns white and starts to shake. He wanders back over to Peter, Chicken and the Bell Boy.


(his voice unnaturally highly pitched)

Hell fire………… it’s a woman!

Des screams, pointing at the breasts, mortified. The Bell Boy drops Peter’s bottle of vodka and rushes over to the bed.


(to Des)

Don’t be soft lad, you’ve had too much ale and too many of those recreational

drugs. It’s never a lass.......can't be

Peter looks over at the Bell Boy and then points to the dropped bottle of vodka.


That weren’t cheap lad. I don’t know how much vodka costs in your country

but it's quite expensive, where we come from.

The Bell Boy looks at Peter.


Mez sorry…I getz youz, no probs more.


(screaming at Peter)

Fuck the vodka you tight cunt! I’m telling ya, there are tits, on this,



(laughing nervously)

No way, your mistaken.


(Screaming louder and in an even higher pitched voice)

There are…. tits!….tits!…it’s a woman! And I’m not taking

any notice of what you say Chicken lad, cos you’ve only ever seen

a pair on't the Internet and page 3! You know fucking nowt!

Peter and Chicken also run over to inspect the sleeping Tramps chest. The four men, all stand over the sleeping Tramp, looking at her chest.


Nay lad, their not, they can’t be. The old bugger's just fat…..aint he?


Right, watch this then.

With that Des (strong as an ox) shakes the bed upon which The Tramp is sleeping. The three Farmers' and the Bell Boy, look down and watch (in alarm) the Tramps breasts, as they;

wobble, shake and bob up and down of their own accord. All four men look at each other, in a state of complete shock and guilt. Chicken catches his breath loudly, which then metamorphoses into a sob.


Aye, those be breasts alright, there’s nipples on’t end of them………and

big ones at that!



It can’t be a woman!….it doesn’t look like a woman! It doesn’t sound

like a woman! or act like a woman! Or smell like a woman! And if..if.

if, they are breasts, they're terrible ones at that! They’re all long

and saggy….an…an…he..I mean she, drank all that tequila. Oh I don’t

like this like……….I’m getting scared. I don’t know what me Mam

would say about this!, she’d have a heart attack!......It can’t be a woman!…

It just can’t be!….it’s them drugs we’ve smoked!.......we’re high on

drugs and drink, that's all…….I don’t like this at all!........it ain't

right! And those tits on the Internet and page 3, don’t look like

that, at all!!


Oh for fucks sake! Shut up! Go and phone ya Mam, ya big fat,

twat and real women’s tits do look like that….ya stupid….bastard


We’ve done something really wrong here, if it is an old lady….it

isn’t right..its not right! We made her play pornographic cards last night!


Stop fucking panicking, it’s Amsterdam remember. It’s in their culture.

No one gives owt about owt over here,so what if it is an old woman?…she

had a good time last night…she had a banquet and got off her head!…

That’s all Tramps like to do like….init?...that why she’s a Tramp lad, all she

wants to do is get wasted and sit in shit all day. It’s their job description like.


(looking philosophical at The Tramps breasts)

Me Mam had a pair like that. It's Eight kids and a Cumbrian farming,

life do that to a lass…Its bloody tragic…tragic I say…….It

shouldn't all end like that but that's farming and childbirth for you.

The Bell Boy looks seriously at Peter and nods his head in agreement.


Women inz Romania get zame, what youz call? Titzs? For me, myz


(Bell Boy places his hands near floor)

herz…down zere…near ground…..in harvestz youz have to bez careful.

notz to…how you sayz….pick upz ze titzs wiz ze vegeztable.

The Bell Boy then cups his hands and bounces them up and down, near the carpet, just as if he is holding an imaginary, large pair of breasts. Chicken looks appalled at this gesticulation and henceforth, screws his face up, beyond all recognition with repugnance. Peter meanwhile, nods his head at the Bell Boy, complying in empathy.

Des then (shocked at Peter’s apparent pathos) double takes at him again. Des opens his mouth, just about to speak to Peter but before he has time;


(To Des solemnly, talking about the Tramp)

You kicked her hard in the stomach, outside the hotel.

Des gulps looking uncharacteristically guilty.


Aye I did Chicken lad, I did..and it were fucking hard too....poor

old cow.


I don’t like this one little bit, she’s a poor old lady…we’ve done things to

her, that I’m not proud of……..I feel sick. She could be my mother!

I want to go home..I don’t like it here....at all.

Des, Peter and the Bell Boy (who still has his arms flung down low, like an Orang-utan, cupping an imaginary pair of breasts)look at him, only slightly concerned. Chicken then bursts out crying and runs to the bathroom, looking as if his going to throw up. All the men, silently and guiltily look at each other, before looking back down to the sleeping Tramps tits. The Bell Boy puts his cupped hands back into his trouser pockets.


Chicken runs out of the bathroom, at top notch speed, screaming hysterically at the top of his voice.


The bathrooms ruined! Ruined! Ruined! The bathrooms ruined! ruined!

Des, Peter and the Bell Boy all run into the bathroom, to take a look for themselves.


We see the bathroom as it is, completely trashed. Mud, dirt,hair, nails, dirty water, used mashed toilet roll everywhere, filthy mirrors, black towels, empty bottles of mini shampoos and the like everywhere, the toilet is blocked, the water is right up to the bowl and the BDay contains dirty washing. The men stand with their mouths open, speechless, shocked and appalled. While Des, Peter and Chicken remain quiet. The Bell Boy collapses in hysterics.


I can state categorically, right now, it won’t be me paying for

this damage! It’s going to cost a small fortune to put right!...

that’s if it can ever be put right…….how on earth did he,

get that mud and dirt on't ceiling?

Des remains silent. Chicken carries on sobbing. The Bell Boy interrupts and corrects Peter.


She, getz mud onz ceilingz, she not he.


(looking ashen at Des, while pointing to the Bell Boy)

This buggers on thin ice. I need a bloody drink me. A bloody big

drink at that! And he dropped the last bottle.

Peter throws his flat cap on the carpet in anger and viciously stamps on it.


The Bell Boy instantly chirps up.


(to Peter optimistically)

I getz more for pigzs, no problemo. Seriousz, I getz for youz……………

alcohol. I goz downstairsz…..now howz Ausztralianzs sayz...noz

worrizz mate

With that the ever buoyant Bell Boy, runs off swiftly, still smiling. The Farmers' stand motionless, in the bathroom door way for a long time, just shaking their heads. A million things race through their minds. They all look confused, to the point of dementia. After a couple of minutes they naturally gravitate back to the sleeping Tramp and stand, just staring over her.


Des lad, you went out with a lass from Kendal who had tits like that. 1985

I think it were.



Aye, I did lad and if I remember rightly, you went out with the mother

……. she dumped you on a trip to the Laurel & Hardy museum in Ulverston,

`cos she couldn’t get you to part with a pound note....... ya tight bastard.


The Tramp farts loudly. The Farmers recoil in horror, which then metamorphosizes into hysterical laughter.



Can’t believe it’s a woman, I can't


(looking suddenly serene and changing the subject)

It’s great here Amsterdam! I love it! I might sell up and move here, lock,

stock and barrel. I might even bring sheep with me.…………..their

no trouble at all them sheep. No trouble at all….I couldn’t be wi`out

`em…listen lads, there comes a time in every sheep or pig farmers

life, when he loves them sheep or pigs more, than his own wife.

Des turns to Peter.


That’s why ya wife left ya and we know you love

your sheep more than you loved your wife because you told Rick

Stein and half the fucking country when you went on his

programme!....Your a stupid twat and a right tight one

at that……now stop talking about ya fucking sheep, before I

wring ya neck, ya tight, sheep loving twat.


(looking upset)

Alright lad. Don’t get ya knickers in a twist…. I didn’t tell Rick Stein that,

did I? ….. I hope it didn’t come over, that I don’t love those sheep,cos

I know I’m pissed…but I do love those sheep..love ‘em! any day o`week’,

over any woman…………women! Ta!.....All they want is ya money and for

you to make love to them….``touch me here’’ and ``touch me there’’

and ``give me an orgasm’’. It's all too much pressure! I can’t be

bothered making love!.…I’d rather be on a hill with me sheep………

and that’s it….like…..that’s it lad for me…I can't be bothered.

Bloody women. Their all over TV as well, laughing about things.

Chicken looks at Peter appalled and astonished, while Des ends up nodding his head in agreement.


(to Peter)

Lad, I make Ya right. Sheep cost nowt. Nowt! Have you seen the women

in London? have ya seen em in Borough market? hair, nails, clothes, shoes

and handbags! handbags! Cockneys spend the price of new fucking

tractor on handbags!…….my Mam just had a `Lyptons' carrier bag,

when I were a kid. They spend money like water Cockneys! Water!


Bloody women… All they want is sex, a farm house in France, the

house, then your money and everything else in between……………….I’m a

right wanker me, I’ve ended up like Ray Parlour….ME!

(Peter turns to a gob-smacked Chicken)

Be a bachelor Chicken lad….save ya self for animals……..them’s all that

matter. Animals never let you down lad….. well until ya slaughter

'em. Eh! I got an idea, I might offer that Ray Parlour a job on me

farm, labouring......He’d be happy as a pig in shit……literally ! Ha!

Eh that were funny!

(Peter laughs at his own statement)

(Des and Chicken remain deadpan)

and not a WAG in sight! What's that Nancy Del-some-it-or-other-

O. What's that all about? Is it human? It looks like something

from Madame Tussades. What's she in fancy dress? and

it speaks all kinds of rubbish! Imagine trying to give her an orgasm?

Why put yourself through it? I'm not up to it. Sheep is all I need.

Peter’s train of thought trails off, as he shakes his head to himself and keeps repeating;

Nancy-what-is-that-Dell-what-O? Des and Chicken look at him slightly concerned.


Thou ain’t having a nervous breakdown, is thou?

Peter looks up at the ceiling whimsically and wipes a tear from his eye.



Nay…..just thinking lad...just thinking


Well stop thinking, it don’t suit ya.


Eh, Sven could come on farm too, if he wanted to get away from it all....


Pete lad...let it lie aye?


The Bell Boy has returned, waving a couple of bottles of vodka about in front of The Farmers'’ faces, as he eagerly tries to ingratiate himself with them.


I lovez pigsz, sheepz, animalsz… Miaow…miaow..PIGSz! anything

Yezs at home in Romania, I hadz a dogz…..miaow…..woofz.

The three Farmers' look at the Bell Boy, as he throws his head back and laughs, at his own impressions. The Bell Boy continues to smile at The Farmers', taking no offence at all, to the way they stare at him blankly. Des and Peter grab the two bottles of vodka out of his hands, without any expressions on their faces and begin swigging the vodka, neat out of the bottle.


As Des’s has just taken a swig of vodka from the bottle, his face turns ashen. Des slaps Peter on the arm.


That..THAT! item on the washing line before….


What about it lad?


That item…must have been……a big old pair of ….under crackers…….

Chicken drops his head in to his hands and shakes it in despair. Peter instantly drops his bottle of vodka on his toe and screams out in pain, before Des promptly collapses on the floor laughing.


(to Chicken)

What iz underzcrzers?


Knickers lad. KNICKERS.

Chicken attempts to try to use his hands, to demonstrate to the Bell Boy what knickers are. Chicken points to his crutch area and then pulls down an imaginary pair of knickers. The Bell Boy promptly ceases to smile and appears; surprised, shocked and a little bit scared.

Chicken looks at the Bell Boy with concern;


Things are getting worse. I bitterly regret the day, I ever agreed to come

to Amsterdam. I should have listened to me Mam, She’s always


The Bell Boy shakes his head not really understanding. But still, He starts to smile again anyway, optimistically.


There is a knock at The Suite door. The Farmers' stop instantly, look at the door and catch their breath. Even The Bell Boy catches his breath. The three Farmers' look at each, vacantly and frown. They assume that if they ignore the knock, it will go away. Wrong. After a couple of minutes, there is another knock. This time it is louder.


(Whispering to the others)

Who’s that d’ya think?



How the fuck should I know?


(panic stricken)

Ignore itz


We’d better open it.

Des, Peter and the Bell Boy, all look at each other and roll their eyes in response to Chicken’s stupid comment. Des leans close to Chicken and says


Thou should have been born down South lad, your soft as shite.

There is another knock at the door.


Of Chicken who has beads of perspiration running down his forehead.


Of The Hotel Manager, who is standing directly outside The Farmers' Suite.


Back to The Farmers' and the Bell Boy. This time The Farmers' really do look as if they are starting to panic.

The knock comes again.

Just then The Tramp starts to stir, awoken by the knock at the door. Des looks at Peter


That’s all we need!

Des runs over to The Tramp and throws his hand over her mouth.

From outside The Suite (knocking again)



Chicken, Peter and Des watch the Bell Boys face, register with horror.


(As he looks at The Farmers'’)

You say Fuck… itz ze boss!



What ya saying lad?



Itz bossz

The knock comes again. By now The Tramp has come around and she starts to panic, as she realises that Des has a hold of her.


Oh no!

The Tramp starts to struggle.


(to The Tramp)

Shut ya face man....I mean...forget tit, I mean forget it, lady

shut it....Oh fucking hell fire, it's all going wrong here!...I sound

like Chicken!

From behind The Suite door, The Manager hears Des’s remark



What was that Sir?


(Defensively and aggressively)

Who’s that there?


It is The Hotel Manager Sir

Chicken, Peter, Des and the Bell Boy stand riveted to the spot in terror, like 4 naughty school boys. The blood drains from their weather beaten faces. Des still has the struggling Tramp, pinned under his big hand.


The dog starts to come around and make some noise.



Hello Sir, this is the Hotel Manager



What do you want?


I was wondering…if you have lost an item of clothing from your





Of the Managers face, as he stands outside The Suite.

Chicken and Peter whisper amongst themselves, not knowing what to do. Peter whispers to Des to let go of The Tramp. Des says no and then Chicken starts sobbing. The Bell Boy tries to contribute to the situation, by swearing in Romanian.


The Managers ears prick up, as he recognises the Bell Boy’s voice. He knows something is going on. The Manager places his ear to The Suite door, just as an attractive business woman walks by. She stops and looks at him, up and down disgusted. He removes his ear away from the door and smiles politely at the attractive business woman. She tuts at him and walks off.


Peter, Item? What’s he talking about?

( pauses to think)

Oh no! The under-crackers! The little ponce, has The Tramps

pants...I mean knickers, I mean the under crackers!...we are in



( looking terrified)

No! No!

The Bell Boy, starts to laugh hysterically, as he cottons on. The Farmers' stare at him angrily.


The Tramp is still struggling furiously to free herself, from Des. She is getting redder and redder. The dog, watching its masters predicament, is becoming more distressed. It runs around in circles and starts behaving very oddly.

Riveted to the spot and not knowing what to do about the dog, the Bell Boy starts looking scared and then stops laughing. Des double takes at the Bell Boy's straight face.



Sir, can you open the door please?

Des gives up, He releases The Tramp from his grip. The Tramp jumps off the bed and starts running around panicking, chattering, and generally making a lot noise but not making any sense.


(Angrily to Des)

You’re a stupid bastard! We’re in trouble now….Every time you get

us in trouble….I’ve had enough of it and of you! I don’t want

anything more to do with you, when we get home…..Mam’s been right

all along, your nothing but trouble...an...an. your as thick as two short


With that Des’s face abruptly changes and takes on an evil expression. Des fly’s at Chicken

and pins him up against the wall, wrapping his hands, tightly around Chicken’s neck.

(As Chicken is thrown up against the wall, a painting falls off with a deafening

thud and the glass smashes)

A small silent scuffle ensues, as Peter and the Bell Boy intervene, trying desperately to prise Des off of Chicken, before he kills him. Chicken starts to turn mauve and he gasps for air, as Des’s fingers tighten, around his throat. The Bell Boy gets a rosary out and starts to pray. Chicken looks even more alarmed, as The Tramp falls at the Bell Boys feet and crosses herself religiously and starts praying herself.

The Manager hears the: thud, the smash of the picture, muffled voices, the dog, The Tramp running around and the praying Tramp and Bell Boy. Meanwhile, Peter is still trying his best, to prise Des off Chicken but Peter is struggling, as Des is so big and strong.




Let him go Des! Your going to kill him.


Of the Hotel Manager outside, who’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, as Peter, screams at Des, not to kill him.

Des reluctantly, let’s go of Chicken. Chicken slides down the wall and collapses on the floor, coughing, spluttering and gasping for air.



I say ………Sir…..SIR! what’s going on in there! open the door at once!

Open the door! I can hear you all! We do not allow second guests in our Suites.

What are you doing in there?…Is one of my staff in there?

Peter hangs his head and mutters to himself `Oh! No!’ over and over again. Des by this time, doesn’t know what to do, he is just pacing up and down uneasily and his body language, portrays his unease and helplessness at the unfolding scenario.

The Bell Boy and The Tramp are still fervently praying.



The Manager starts banging his fists on the door.


(now getting angry and agitated)

For fucks sake, What d’ya want man? I’m on me holidays?

Just then, the dog barks.


The Manager nearly collapses when he hears the dog bark, he can’t believe his ears. The three Farmers, the Bell Boy and The Tramp, all look at each other with dread.

Des breaks into a sweat. Looking evil, he grits his teeth and grabs Chicken and hauls him to his feet and with the other hand, he grabs Peter. Des pulls the two men close to him and in a whisper, through clenched teeth, he tells both men.




Chicken looks at Des, terrified. The Bell Boy starts shaking, thinking of Jeffrey Damer.


I can’t, what about me bad back?


Outside the hotel Manager now has his ear back on ,The Suite door.


I’m sorry, what was that you said Sir?

The dog barks again. Des leans even closer to Chicken and turns fuchsia pink.

Chicken swallows hard, as he realises he is about to see the side of Des which terrifies every: man, woman, child and video shop owner, in the village.


If thou don’t get that mutt, that smelly Tramp and that

ponce in the silly uniform, in that wardrobe now, I’ll beak ya fucking

back me self lad..……. ya fat twat…. just DO IT!


(Talking to himself whilst looking utterly distressed)

Oh dear! This is far worse than the foot and mouth outbreak, only

saggy tits, filthy under crackers and a destroyed `Suite’ are marginally

more entertaining than economic ruin and destitution.

Des looks over at Peter with condemnation and shakes his head bitterly.


Hells bells! Your still going on about work and money are ya?...

Peter ignores Des and looks up at Chicken.


Chicken lad, you get the dog and I’ll grab The Tramp and lad.

Without further ado, Peter grabs The Tramp and Bell Boy, with one hand each. The Bell Boy looks shocked, as he is lifted off his feet and he trails ten centimetres, above the carpet. As Peter picks up The Tramp, with the other hand, one of the several hundred elastic bands, that The Tramp has wrapped around her boots, to keep the soles from falling off, pings off and flicks the Bell Boy directly in the eye. The Bell Boy cries out in pain and as a reflex action, his head flinches back and he head butts Peter. Peter cries out in pain too. Then the Bell Boy and Peter start laughing. Peter does not at any point, let go of the Tramp, he only wobbles briefly, for couple of seconds. The Tramp, thinking he is about to be dropped, starts gibbering away in Dutch. The dog sees the distress of its master

and struggles furiously in Chicken’s arms. The dog gives Chicken a nasty scratch, right across the face, before escaping free and running in Peter's direction.


Ow! that bloody hurt

Chicken raises his fingers to his face and touches the blood on his cheek.

The dog attacks Peter’s leg. Peter screams in pain and drops The Tramp. The Tramp cries out in pain, as she bangs her head on a small occasional table. The Bell Boy is still laughing.

Des and Chicken then run to Peter’s aid, to try to prise the dog off his leg.

Des has the dogs head, as Chicken grabs it from behind.

Becoming frightened, The Tramp starts to fart. Her flatulence soon develops into a sequence of; quick fire, short, sharp farts.

All three Farmers (with tangible fear) look at The Tramp and then the door, knowing the Hotel Manager will still be listening outside.


Oh no!…I don’t believe it, the Tramp is farting in Morse Code.


Forget the Morse Code, Get this dog off me NOW!!!!!!

Des (seeing the desperation and pain in Peter’s eyes) kicks the dog as hard as he can. The dog yelps loudly and then runs under a table. Chicken yells loudly, upset by Des’s cruelty to the animal. Chicken places his head in his hands and starts to weep again.


(Whispering to Peter and Chicken)

Pick that dog and Tramp up and get them in the wardrobe…

now and take that silly ponce with ya

(Pointing to the Bell Boy)

The Bell Boy looks upset. Peter moves the table and Chicken tries to push the dog towards the wardrobe but the dog won’t budge. Upon Des’s instructions, Chicken and Peter quickly change tactic. Instead of pushing the dog, Peter and Chicken get either end of it. Peter has it’s head, Chicken has its backside. As they simultaneously bend down to pick up the dog, both men bang heads. They cry out loudly `Oww!’ and fall onto the floor, rubbing their heads.



For fucks sake, you pair O’ twats




What’s going on in there? Open the door.

The Farmers'’, The Tramp and the Bell Boy, all look towards the door. The Tramp is rubbing her head and generally looking sorry for herself, The Bell Boy’s eye is red and watering profusely from the elastic band, Peter has a bruised egg developing on his forehead and blood on his trouser leg, from the dogs bite, Chicken is bright red, dripping with sweat, has a scratch on his face, welts on his neck and looks like he will have a heart attack any second. Chicken keeps repeating over and over again `We are in so much trouble’ and Des looks unusually and unnaturally nervous.

The Manager who is still outside, hears the: bark, the cries, the bang of Des’s head on the wall, the thud of The Tramp being dropped, the growls and yelps of the dog, Peter’s and the Bell Boy’s cries of pain, the weeping and the Morse Code flatulence.


( now unreservedly banging his fists on the door and not caring)

Open up!

With that the Bell Boy looks at Des with sheer desperation.



Heez must not seez me…I no jobz zthen.

Des raises his eyebrows and feels empathy for his fellow proletariat. Sensing his desperation, Des says


Ok lad, keep ya crackers on. Don't worry, I'll get you a job at

abattoir or me farm, if ya lose this.... what kind of job is this

anyway? It's not mans' work, is it lad? You'll end up like

Simon Cowell, if your not careful. Let me get you a job in abattoir

anyway;it'll make a man of you. What d'ya reckon?

The Bell Boy looks at Des puzzled and not really understanding what he is talking about.

The Manager is still banging on the door. Des starts to feel desperate.



(shouting through the door to The Manager)

Look LAD ,I can’t open t’door cos I got a woman in here. Its me

`Human Right’…..now fuck off and go and arrange some flowers……..

or….what ever homosexuals do.......


The Manager looks at The Suite door, infuriated. He opens his mouth a few times to say something but then words escape him. He lingers outside. He doesn’t know what to do next but is desperate to get into `The Suite’.


The Farmers'’ and the Bell Boy, silently and hopefully look at; each other, the wardrobe, The Tramp, the dog, The destroyed Suite and The Suite door.




I’m just checking to see if everything is aright with your Suite’

The Farmers', The Tramp and the Bell Boy all look at each other, in a state of suspense.


Royale Suite (sarcastically) It will be when you fuck off…I didn’t pay

this kind of money to have a trumped up little twat, like you knocking `ont door

every five minutes.…I aint on some school trip to Wales… Now I’ve got a lass

in here, so if you don’t mind…....fuck off.


The Manager’s eyebrows arch violently, as Des says `fuck off’. He is practically spitting venom. The Manager silently mouths the word `Wales?’ to himself puzzled, because He has never heard of it before.


Inside The Suite. The three Farmers’, the Bell Boy, The Tramp and the dog, all walk over to the door and stand nervously, silently, listening and waiting, for a reply.


The Manager puts his ear to the door. He has an intense expression on his face.


Well, if you are sure that you haven’t lost any of your possessions

over the balcony?


The Manager hesitantly presses his ear to the door.


The Farmers', the Bell Boy and even The Tramp, cautiously press all their ears to the door. The dog even intuitively, pricks up its ears and perceptively tilts its head, to one side.


Nowt…lad…aint lost nowt….......nowt


Des’s eyes become, big and wide, Peter looks pissed off, Chicken looks scared (sweat continues to pour down his face) The Tramp looks confused and the Bell Boy now looks apathetic, appeased by Des's job offer .


The Manager slowly and regretfully, moves away from The Suite door. He sniffs belligerently. He is gutted. He dearly wants to catch The Farmers', `at it' whatever that is. He knows that they are up to no good. He also knows very well, that `The Pants’, came from their Suite. Furthermore he blames The Farmers'’ for the complete annihilation, of the Eastern European Bell Boy’s work ethic. Ever since Des’s run in with the `Two Versace clad individuals’ the Bell Boy has become a borderline anarchist. The Manager already hates the Farmers'. The Hotel Manager, takes a pink linen handkerchief from out of his top pocket and buffs the paintwork on the door, where his ear has been. As The Manager turns around to walk away. Just as he does so, he turns to find the Japanese couple are standing directly behind him (in their pyjamas) wholly un-amused. The Manager jumps with fright, as he sees them. The Manager is shocked and embarrassed to have been caught, by them. By way of an explaination he says;


Health and Safety check,Madame Sir…..It’s our policy………..the law.

The Japanese couple look unimpressed. They give The Manager, the dirtiest look, before walking straight back into their Suite disgusted.

The Manager’s face shows a multitude of emotions but professional as ever, He quickly straightens his back and his immaculate pink tie and smooths downs his equally perfect hair

and moustache. Just before he leaves, he quickly looks around to see if anyone is looking and quickly puts his ear back to The Suite door. The Manager is just in time to hear Des viciously state;


If I see that twat again, I’ll fucking brain him….I need just one excuse, to kick

the shit out of him…..coming up here, telling me who I should and shouldn’t

have in here…..If I want a silly little ponce in a uniform and a smelly,

rotten Tramp, in here,

(The Tramp and the Bell Boy look at each other)

I will! I’ve got a pig fortune. Why’s the twat giving it to me? I hate

snobs. …………bloody cheek…….I’ll have that little TWAT! You watch!

I'd like to kick him round every street, til he looks like that!

(Des points at The Tramp)

The Tramp looks highly offended, even though she pretends not to understand.

The Hotel Manager is momentarily alarmed at not only the comment but by the sound of unadulterated laughter, which ring forth, from The Suite. Totally emasculated, he gulps deeply, before walking away.

The Farmers', the Bell Boy and The Tramp, wait quietly for a while, until they are sure that The Manager has gone. After a couple of minutes, Des slowly opens the door to make sure that he has gone.


His gone lads, we can relax

The group of men and The Tramp breathe a collective sigh of relief. The Tramp slides to the floor. As Peter picks up The Tramp by her collar, his new electric razor, electric toothbrush,

Blackberry, pocket torch and wallet fall from her disintegrated pockets.

Peter looks down and turns ashen. Peter looks at Des and Chicken. The Tramp just smiles and silently shrugs her shoulders, as she dangles in mid-air. Peter completely loses his temper, shouting and generally going nuts about: The Tramp, the dog, the destruction, her stealing and the prospect of a huge hotel bill for damages. In a fit of anger he drops The Tramp and kicks the wardrobe door. The Tramp cries out in pain and her dog starts going nuts again and the wardrobe door, falls from its hinges and crashes to the floor.


Oh No! Be careful, that’s an old Lady remember.

Says Chicken wincing, while nervously ringing his giant elasticised waist band, with this fingers.


(Impersonating The Hotel Manager with limp wrists and in his Larry Grayson voice)

Be careful that's an old lady remember

(then in his normal voice)

Let me tell`ya, Chicken lad,that ain’t no old lady.

Des glares at Chicken. Des doesn’t seem to care if The Tramp is dead or alive, a man or a woman. Chicken meanwhile, hangs his head and looks even more upset than normal.

Peter calms down. Then he starts smiling to himself.


Aye sod it, lets get wasted again… We’ll be back at work, day

after tomorrow, slaughtering pigs and sheep. Let's just go for it.

Des agrees nodding his head seriously.


Aye we will Pete lad. Chicken won’t because his a lazy bastard but

aye you be right son. Let’s enjoy rest o’ holiday, let’s get wrecked

again. Nothing else can go wrong now, can it?

Chicken stands there just shaking his head, devastated by Des’s nasty remark. Before Chicken has time to think of a reasonable excuse or plan to evade another drink and drug binge, Des grabs the bottles of alcohol, that the Bell Boy has brought up. To The Farmers' delight, The Tramp snatches one of the bottles with pure brute strength and takes a hearty swig. The Tramp appears pissed almost instantaneously, much to the delight of The

Farmers'. Once again The Farmers' take great joy in getting wasted and laughing at The



I mustd go, so boz notz thinkz I be here.....Yez?

The Bell Boy scurries out of the Suite, like a little Cockroach.


They all get more pissed and more stoned.

Des puts his Old The Bee Gee’s cassette tape on loud.

While The Tramp isn’t looking, Des makes the dog sniff the hemel nitrate. The dog is sick and then goes nuts and begins to chew up a beautifully upholstered chair. When The Tramp sees the dog, she starts to cry.

Chicken attempts to calm her down. He offers her the menu for more room service. She smiles gladly and instantaneously, forgets about her ill dog. Looking hopefully at Chicken, She points to the dessert menu. Upon her command of holding up 3 fingers, Chicken phones down and orders: 3 hot fudge Sundays. Chicken makes a point of asking the operator, to make sure the food is left outside. When the food turns up, The Farmers' sit in front of her and watch her eat again. They are highly entertained because she is pissed and the sundays end up everywhere. All over her face, cloths and the carpet. As she reaches for her third one, she accidentally knocks it over.

(so far The Tramp has not spoken English at all. All communication

with The Tramp has been done through body language, smiles, nods

and pointing ect)

After many hours, of more drinking and smoking drugs, The Farmers' all pass out watching the TV. The dog curls up next to its master.


All The Farmers' wake up the next morning. They are all hung over, badly. As Des goes to the bathroom, for a shower, Chicken makes a break for the phone, to call his mother. However Des has tricked Chicken (because he knows that he will try to call his mother) and jumps out of the bathroom, pouncing on Chicken and snatching the phone from him. Des throws the phone at the wall. It smashes an expensive antique mirror.


Oh no!’

Peter and Chicken hang their heads sorrowfully, while looking at the mirror. Drowning in self-pity, Peter tragically says.



Not another 7 years bad luck….. I don’t know if I can take anymore.

Chicken hangs his head in sheer misery. He feels as if a black cloud is descending over him. Chicken wants to go home. He is desperately missing his mother.

Des looks at Peter and Chicken’s faces and laughs out loud, like the mad man that he is.

The crash of the mirror wakes the dog. The dog starts jumping up and running around like crazy. Des screams at the dog. Scared, the dog runs back into the corner and finishes manically chewing up, the beautifully upholstered chair.



Oh No! What we going to do about that mirror. It's massive


Don't worry about it lad……I’ll throw it off the balcony, the hotel will never know.

Peter and Chicken catch their breath horrified.


That were a joke lads, I’ll put it in the lift and send it to another floor…

or better still, I’ll stick it on the roof.


(under his breath)

I can't believe it!


(to Chicken)

I feel like I’m going down on the Titantic! You were right Chicken lad,

it is definitely all going to end in tears!


For fucks sake, stop mithering you two, your like a couple of women.

You two worry too much. Chill out. Come on we’ll miss breakfast.

With that Des starts laughing.


In their haste to catch the `free’ hotel breakfast, The Farmers' grab their cameras and some more money and run out of the door. As The Farmers' flee, they put the `Do not Disturb’ sign on the door.

The Tramp, is still asleep and the Farmers' have left on her own again.

While running down the stairs, The Farmers'’ see The Hotel Manager coming towards them. The Manager does a serendipitous double take, as he sees The Farmers, coming down the stairs.

The Bell Boy is trundling along beside The Hotel Manager His arms are full of cases and he

is sporting a shiny black eye. The Bell Boy winks and smiles at The Farmers' cheekily.

The Farmers' look terrible. None of them have had a proper wash or shave, since they’ve been in Amsterdam moreover each of them has some kind of injury (either a cut or a bruise)


(looking stunned at their dire appearance)

How is your accommodation gentlemen?You all look as if you've

been staying in aYouth hostel...I..mean... bail hostel.

The Bell Boy bursts out laughing.

The Manager turns around and gives him a filthy look.

The Bell Boy straightens his face.

The Manager turns back around to face The Farmers'.

The Farmers' laugh in his face, ignore him and carry on down stairs, past him to breakfast. Des stops on the stairs, bends his body over in an effeminate manner and with a limp wrists, he does his best homosexual Larry Grayson impersonation.


Oh! Look at the muck in here and shut that door! Shut it. Shut

that fucking door.

Peter collapses in hysterics on the stairs and even Chicken, laughs loudly and uncontrollably, at Des’s impersonation.

The Bell Boy also bursts out loud laughing.

The Manager shoots the Bell Boy a terrible look.

The Bell Boy sees the Managers reaction and straightens his face, again.

The Manager stops in his tracks, turns and follows The Farmers'’, back down stairs because he is livid, at the impersonation.

Des looks over his shoulder and sees him coming back down the stairs towards them.


(under his breath)

Here we go lads


I said Gentlemen, how is your accommodation?

Des turns and faces The Manager.


You talking to me lad?


Yes Sir.

The Bell Boy turns on his heel (still bogged down with all the cases) and happily moreover eagerly skips back down stairs.

The Hotel Manager is waiting for Des to reply.

Des ignores him and carries on walking to the restaurant.

Enraged The Manager realises that if he has words with Des, Des is likely to, physically and verbally attack him.


The two Japanese tourists are about to pass The Farmers'’ and the Manager on the stairs. The Japanese tourists, both bow in respect to the Manager but as The Manager is so stressed and upset by Des’s impersonation, he barges past them and ignores them. The Japanese couple are appalled.


(in Japanese)

How rude, we’ll never stay here again….

The Farmers' (still laughing) make their way to the restaurant to have breakfast.

The Manager and the bag laden Bell Boy, are still skipping along behind the Framers.


(To the Bell Boy)

This is ridiculous. I can't carry on like this..I'm a professional.

I need a drink.

With that The Manager disappears into his office.

The Bell Boy is left on the stairs, looking vacant

After eating breakfast (which they do without any decorum or manners, much to the distaste of the other guests) The Farmers' wander outside and again spend the day, much the same as they have spent the other days: drinking, smoking, sight seeing, starring and taking the piss out of the Dutch

During some point in the day, DES has another epiphany. Des stops in the street.


Chicken lad, go and phone your Mam.




I said, go and phone ya Mam.

Chicken looks at Peter.


(talking to Des)

What was that you just said to him lad?


For crying out loud..I said...


Go and phone ya Mam?



Suspicious and not quite believing it, Chicken sprints off anyway, to find a phone box before Des changes his mind.

Des and Peter, watch the spectacle of Chicken running off.


That vision were unique.


Aye lad, that it were

Once Chicken is out of sight, Peter turns to Des


What’s going on?


let's go to the red light district and get a prostitute for Chicken.

Poor bastard will die a virgin other wise.

..Peter looks at Des horrified. As far as Peter’s concerned, this is a new low for Des.


Argh no! Look where your ideas have got us so far! It's a miracle we

haven't got arrested......Nay lad, its not a good idea....nay.


Why not? We’d be doing him a favour. You do realise that His going to

die a virgin otherwise… well....... unless he has it off, with one of your

sheep, that's if He hasn't already done it mind.

Peter looks appalled.



Hey now, don’t bring me sheep into this lad.


Keep ya fucking knickers on lad. At end of day , there’s only two

possibilities, as far as potential partners go for Chicken, sheep

and prostitutes. That's it. Look He'll never go abroad again, after

this weekend, so he'll never have chance, ever again………………come on

Pete, the fat bastard can't die a virgin and...and while we're in........where

are we again?



Holland weren't it? Or is it Luxembourg?


Who knows and to be honest, who cares but there's prostitutes here.

Peter begins to look unwell. He rubs his face. He figgets on the spot, shuffling his feet and crossing and re-crossing his arms. Des continues to stare at him. Peter sighs heavily.


Well I wouldn’t want to inflict any emotional turmoil on me sheep, after

what happened last time and considering that Chicken is still a virgin with

NO prospect of ever getting a shag, I might as well agree to your

plan......I don't like it though, its sick.

Des clenches his fists and jumps up in the air in a brief celebratory dance. Peter looks very unhappy with the decision and just shakes his head at Des, as he celebrates.


Eh what about that Annie franko prostitute, that folk keep going on about.



I thought she's having it off, with the Wills-Worth-it-Man?


Argh piss off, very funny.


(Des puts his hand on Peter’s shoulder)

Right listen, we'll wait till he comes back and then we’ll casually slowly

wander to the red light district…..Ok.


I'm not sure. This would kill his Mam, if she ever found out.


How the fuck is that going to happen?


OH ! I don’t know.


Shut up! Stop mithering. No wonder your wife ran off.

Des and Peter stand in silence, waiting on the corner for Chicken to return.

When Chicken comes back, Des takes them for a slow walk up and down the Red Light district. Chicken thinks it strange, as the two men have not yet suggested going into a bar.

Chicken starts to realise, that the two men are acting out of the ordinary. Des and Peter remain silent, as they continue walking up and down, for what is longer than necessary. Chicken believes his suspicions to be real, when he keeps catching, Des and Peter whispering between themselves.


After seeing the reflection of Des and Peter point through a window and nod to an overtly muscular, 6 foot 4 nun, Chicken, finally cottons on to what they are planning. Chicken is mortified. He panics, quickly becomes distressed.


You two must think that I'm stupid. I know what your up to!

With that Chicken throws a paddy and storms off. Incoherent with sadness and outrage, Chicken misjudges the space between a lamppost and a man on a push bike. Accidentally (and with cataclysmic force) the Dutch bicyclist is knocked off and flung into the road like a rag doll. Even though the bicyclist screams blue murder, Chicken does not even realise what he has done. Chicken is walking as fast as he can.

Des and Peter observe Chicken and the bicyclist’s extraordinary sufferings. Slightly perturbed but not overly concerned about Chicken or the cyclist, Des and Peter ignore the incident and Instantly forget their plan to get Chicken a shag. Both Farmers' shrug their shoulders and carry on walking.


Leave him Peter, he’ll be alright. Come on lad, let's find a café, Im


As Des and Peter are walking along, they see a sign outside a brothel that reads;

`Equal Opportunities Brothel’ They stop. Des creases up his forehead thinking hard.



(looking at Peter)

All prostitutes are `Equal Opportunities' aren’t they?

Peter remains silent and shrugs his shoulders.


Well of course they are lad, they’ll sleep wi`anyone who will pay them, so

that means Equal Opportunities don’t it?Do they mean that not all brothels

are Equal Opportunities?


(looking at Des)

Don’t ask me lad, I know nowt. But I know that its illegal to

discriminate..and I know it's illegal to have sex....


Not here though..they're proud of it.


I really couldn't tell ya, anything about anything any more. I

know nothing..........It's all so confusing.


Eh lad it’s a bit of a worry aint it? ….I’ll have to ask me member of

Parliament about Equal Opportunities, next time I see him


Peter looks at Des astounded.


You know our local MP?…You Des Sainsbury know our local MP? You

know nowt about politics and you never voted in your life! You wouldn’t

even know the Houses of Parliament, if they bit you on the arse!

you never read……anything!


(getting angry)

Just cos I’ve never voted, don’t mean I’m not interested in politics. I

know what Equal Opportunities is.

Peter looks exasperated by Des’s answer. Peter exhales loudly, looks up at the sky and puts his hands deep in to his pockets.

Des presses his nose, back up against the brothel window. He turns to look at Peter.


Eh, apparently local copper, you know lad wi' flat feet? he’s

been having a bit of `Equal Opportunities’ himself, with woman wi' the big

earlobes, from the Post Office. It ain’t no good having `Equal Opportunities'

wi`someone, if their married with four children, by five different

fathers, is it?



How's that work then?


I don't fucking know but ain't that what happens, when ya have a bit

of `Equal Opportunities' wi everyone? Every one's had a bit, or gets a

bit and so it's all fair. Listen lad, I can't add up and I ain't at school.

If you wana go on `countdown' go for it but I'm on me holidays, so

can we drop it? I've got a FUCKING headache now.

Des's expression changes. He looks seriously at Peter for a moment and then continues.


Hey Pete lad, you’d be pleased to having a bit of `Equal Opportunities’ with

anyone, wouldn’t ya lad. How long has it been? Ya not having it off

wi' ya sheep, yet are ya?


Very funny, shove off!


Inside the brothel, the bemused prostitute from the `Equal opportunities’ brothel (who has been watching Des and Peter the whole time) calls to a colleague


Come and watch these two typical British tourists

Another prostitute comes to the window. Both prostitutes', simultaneously light up cigarettes and stare at The Farmers' from inside the brothel.


(shouting to the prostitutes)

`Get back to work’.


(Simultaneously shout back, still smoking)

We're on a break


Outside the brothel, Des and Peter stare in and frown at the two prostitutes. The prostitutes stare back at them bemused.


Chicken, who is extremely upset and on his way back to the hotel, stops to phone his Mother. They have an extremely intense, emotional phone call. At the end of the call;



Are you crying petal?




No Mam…..nay Mam. Mam by the way, I love you and miss you


I know son but you’ll be home soon. Don't fret.


Bye Mam


Bye son. Home soon aye?



Chicken puts down the phone, collapses on his forearms and sobs his heart out. After a while, he stops crying and looks across the street and becomes fixated with a young couple. He watches the young man, brush the hair out of his girl friend’s eyes and run his finger down her cheek. It is an intimacy that Chicken has never experienced. Chicken begins to think, about his weight, his virginity and the lack of a loved one. Chicken feels isolated and depressed. As he turns to walk away, Chicken catches a reflection of himself in a brothel window. Ironically the prostitute (in the brothel window) thinks that Chicken is looking at her. As she blows him a kiss, a single tear runs down Chicken’s cheek, as he looks at his fat reflection. Chicken looks down at his feet, as several people stop to look at him. To further exacerbate matters, a loud and outrageous stag party stumble past (the handsome and slim groom, is dressed as a fairy) Chicken wonders whether, he will ever find a soul mate, be in love and get married. In the middle of a black depression, Chicken then decides to go into a bar, on his own for a drink. After ordering and drinking a bottle of red wine almost immediately, a kindly prostitute (who has been watching Chicken, the whole time from the bar) recognises his pain and walks over and gives him some pure M.D.M.A. Chicken (having already lost the will to live) takes it, without knowing what it is. He briefly locks eye contact with the prostitute. and they share a brief spiritual moment, full of empathy, meaning and understanding. Chicken gratefully takes the MDMA. he smiles a sad smile at the prostitute, says thanks and then begins to make his way back to the hotel.

Fairly quickly, Chicken becomes severely off his head and loved up. Just before he gets back to the hotel, He briefly falls in love with a tree and has to be moved on, by two understanding Dutch policemen (who have been to Findhorn and have seen the phenomena of tree hugging themselves)


Des and Peter have been having a brilliant time, in a great bar but all of a sudden (Brought on by smoking skunk) Des begins to feel paranoid and terribly guilty, as he realises, that they have forgotten Chicken. Peter is not suffering the same paranoia and so is not worried, about Chicken.



Shall we go back t’ hotel, see if we can find Chicken?


(after doing a shot of tequila )

Ney, leave him, I want another drink.


but.......d'ya think he'll be ok? On his own? (getting really paranoid)

....what if his missing us? What if his just missing?Or got lost

What if some hard bastard, picks on him? The fat bugger can't

fight. What if he's fallen over and is in hospital? Or had a heart attack

and died? Or been run over?? Or stabbed? Or been arrested?

Or what if his sold his kidney to a Korean? Or, or or, what if his

fallen pray to one of them Russian girls? He could very well, be up

at Bond Street now! blowing his pig inheritance, on, on on...some.

some, one of them...em or ! WHAT if his gone in an Internet Cafe

and met some Thai girl on-line; that all ends in tears. What if

authorities think his an asylum seeker and put him in a detention

centre and....and someone sets the centre on fire, or him on fire?

Or, or what if an intravenous drug user.............................




Intravenous ya say? that's a bloody big word for you



I know, it must be the drugs. what if he's been stabbed with a needle?

What if his caught really bad diarrhoea and hasn't got any loo paper?

Or what if someone's accused him of being an Accrington Stanley supporter

or what if his been a victim of `Identity Theft'?


Oh for pitys sake! WHO? would want to steal his identity? Tell me?

Who would want to be that fat bastard? Who? Some twisted, sick,

masochistic, psychopathic, or, or, or Gary Glitter perhaps?

Peter curls his lip up in disgust.


(looking absolutely terrified)

I'm terrified man..here's the worst case scenario though;.....what...what if,

his gone really barmy and got on a ferry to go back home but got on a

ferry to Wales, by mistake?



(finally taking Des seriously, while appearing panic stricken)

Oh no!….. we'd better find him quickly! QUICKLY, I say!

Des and Peter, without finishing their drinks, run out of the bar. The pair of them hysterically chase through the streets of Amsterdam, looking in; bars, cars, shops, phone boxes and anything else that they see or find. Eventually emotionally drained and practically exhausted, Des and Peter finally stumble back to the hotel.

The two men walk silently disheartened, through reception. Their faces are as long as kites, their despondent pathos, is apparent for all the world to see.

The Hotel Manager, who is talking to a French Canadian couple notices, The Farmers' and double takes at their expressions. The Manager rudely halts his conversation about the `Waldorf Astoria' in New York and follows, the Farmers' with this eyes.

The Bell Boy who is desperately trying to flatter `a woman of a certain age' in the hope that he will get a big tip, also stops in mid conversation.

Des and Pete silently get in to the elevator. They do not talk or even look at each other, until they are outside The Suite.

Peter attempts to open the door. Peter finds it impossible to open it. Des then silently takes the card off of Peter and tries to open the door himself. When Des cannot open the door either, Peter takes the card back off him and has another go himself. He is unsuccessful.

Peter and Des look at each other. They initially think that it's because they are so pissed, that they can not open the door. Peter trys the door again, while Des struggles with the handle. They still cannot not open it. Still drunk and out of breath, they both have a brief rest, upon the wall. Peter drops the swipe card and starts softly giggling. Des gives him some verbal grief.


Ey up lad, we're like a couple of soft Southerners', trying to open this

bloody door...like a couple of Cockneys', taking two hours, to pick a

single tomato, in't Borough Market....We can't do it lad. Maybe we've

been down `sarf' too many times!.....I might as well kill myself!

They both find it funny and start laughing.


Eh, it was like this when I first got married, trying to get wife's brassier

off and find the magic spot!.....eh lad, I couldn't do that either! No

wonder she left me.

Both men laugh for another few minutes.

They both have a go at the door again but give up. Eventually they call out to Chicken.

As they do, they hear some kind of muffled sound.


Des and Peter's ears prick up. They both stand perfectly still and lean upon the door with their ears pressed to it. Des and Peter both look at each other,with eyes wide open in shock.


Chicken ya fat twat, open t`door



As Peter and Des with both their ears still to the door, look at each other seriously.


Peter and Des, violently raise their eyebrows. Simultaneously a thought registers,

in both their minds. The penny drops. Both their faces explode with hilarious incredulity, as they realise what is going on. Des starts to laugh like a mad man. Peter still completely deadpan and not making a sound, quickly takes his camera from around his neck and with a slow smirk, gets ready to use it.


Stand out of way lad, I’m knocking this, poncey, poofy,fucking door down.


Aye lad, I'm ready when ever you are.

Then with all his might, with the force of the Silver back that he is, Des rams himself against the door.


From inside `The Suite’ they hear


No! no..no..Don’t come in!……….Don’t come in!…wait a minute!…hang on!...

don’t come in yet......................wait!...... wait!

With one last burst of Neanderthal energy, Des throws his 15 stone muscular frame, against the door. Peter has his camera ready, at eye level. As the door is finally broken down, Peter and Des are faced with the vision of; Chicken facing them full on, about two foot from the door, shagging The Tramp, doggy style from behind.

As The Tramp, is being shagged dog style, she looks even more horrendously ugly. Her face is viciously contorted, in the `mother’ of all crazy facial expressions.

The dog is sitting right next to the Tramp, unnervingly, unnaturally and perceptively facing Peter and Des straight on. Before Des, Peter, Chicken, The Tramp or the dog, has time to react, Peter takes one step forward and takes `The Perfect’ picture. It is the picture of a lifetime; Chicken shagging the Tramp, doggy style. Chicken and the Tramp, are looking straight into the camera.



Complete pandemonium breaks out, as all realise the consequences of their actions.

Peter and Des scream and laugh hysterically as; Chicken panics.

Chicken then unchivalrously pushes The Tramp, face forward on to the carpet. The Tramp skims her way forward, moving quickly towards Des and Peter. As Des and Peter jump out of the way, all they can see is, a big white expanse of white Tramp buttock, facing them.

The Tramp comes to a halt and then timidly looks up at Des and Peter. She has two fresh, red, carpet burns, which run the entire length of her face cheeks.

The dog starts barking and then decides to attack Chicken, for pushing his master. This makes it impossible for Chicken to pull up his gigantic, elasticised trousers.

Punctuated in-between Peter’s and Des’s crazed laughter, Des keeps calling Chicken a `Sick, fucking, twisted, bastard’


Even Gary Glitter didn't go this far..your a sick man.


The Japanese couple next-door, ring down to complain about the noise that the Farmers' are making.

From reception, the Hotel Manager proceeds to make his way up to, The Farmers' Suite. Once the Hotel Manager reaches The Farmers' `Suite’, The Manager finds the door is a-jar. The Manager gingerly pushes the door open and then is physically knocked back by the catastrophic vision, of the completely destroyed `Suite’. his jaw literally drops to the floor, in shock. One can tell that He is struggling desperately, to comprehend, the extent of the damage. His face is an absolute picture. Several times he attempts to speak but his voice fails him. Several times he attempts to move, but his body fails him. The Manager freezes in horror. To his amazement, he watches as:

  • Chicken continues grappling with his huge elasticised Y-fronts, in an unsuccessful attempt to pull them up.

  • Des collapses inside The Suite, totally incapacitated by laughter.

  • The Tramp is running around helping herself to money and any of The Farmers'’ belongings, that she can get Her hands on.

  • The dog is running around barking and growling fanatically. The dog locks eye contact with The Manager, cocks it's leg up against the chewed up chair and urinates against it.

  • Peter continues to take photographs of; The Tramp, Chicken, Des, the dog, The Suite and the pompous, camp Hotel Manager.

Much to the bewilderment of: Des, Peter, Chicken and The Manager, the Tramp starts laughing, really laughing hard. The Farmers' find this paradoxical, as they had been laughing at her and now she is laughing at them! As she laughs, she clutches her belly and throws her head back and forth and bends her body, backwards and forwards, in complete hysterics. The Farmers' and The Manager, look at her totally flabbergasted.

As The Tramp stamps her foot hard on the floor (laughing) one of the elastic bands from her boot, pops off and pings, in The Manager's eye.



On purpose and to antagonise The Manager (who is still standing in the doorway) Peter steps forward and takes a close up picture of his contorted face. As the flash explodes, in the Managers face, he shrieks again.




(To Peter seriously)

Oh no, don't do that, you'll make things worse!


(laughing in disbelief)

Worse? Worse? How is that possible?

The Manager blinking furiously, as Peters flash had gone off in his face,

looks down to see the dog sitting at his feet growling. The Manager’s face slowly begins to redden and spasmodically and involuntarily twitch. Chicken looks at The Manager and is getting scared. Peter then regrets taking the photo, as he too also begins to realise that The Manager is about to explode. As Peter stops laughing and Chicken becomes silent, even Des becomes slightly worried and stops laughing too. The dog also senses the vibe and stops growling and begins to cry.

The Manager is getting redder and redder and redder. Finally, The Manager gives vent to his utter, furry and revulsion. The Manager’s repugnance is stated unequivocally.


Never, ever, ever, have I had the experience of seeing or hearing

about, a hotel Suite anywhere in the world, being trashed so badly.

Even the Sex Pistols and the Rolling Stones, didn’t manage this in the

1970’s…this room is ..is appallingly, disgusting,..repulsive..repugnant,

heinous and filthy dirty. You are not men, BUT animals!

ignorant, insular, unintelligent animals! You have no decorum,

no manners, no morals

(pointing at The Tramp)

no respect. You are an affront to any decent human being and any

civilised European citizen. You are a waste of perfectly good skin and

organs and furthermore, I find myself disgusted and embarrassed

to be categorised, in the same gender as you three and what makes it

worse, is that You’ve prayed moreover exploited

(pointing to The Tramp again)

this poor, defenceless, vulnerable and weak, old Tramp. Gentlemen, one

has a duty to protect, societies needy poor and disadvantaged. I just

pray that this person recovers, from what ever you’ve done to him.

(The Tramp nods in agreement with The Manager)




Her actually. Him is a her


(in disbelief)

W.W.W.W. What? What?


(unequivocally and categorically)

He is a female. Tramps a woman.

The Hotel Manager, shakes his head furiously, trying to absorb the knowledge.


I….am just speechless...madame you've been sleeping outside this hotel for years

and I thought you were a man! Please I don't want to know any more.

But above all else, I just don’t understand how you could have done

the damage that you have, to this Suite. Animals!

animals, couldn’t have managed this. It’s destroyed!……completely destroyed!

and in the most spectacular of ways. I…..I…just don’t understand….

its ruined, ruined RUINED!

The three Farmers' and The Tramp look at each other and then gaze slowly around The Suite at the damage. The Hotel Manager, witnessing their innocent and vacant (butter wouldn’t melt looks) becomes even more annoyed by their insolence. Des shrugs and Peter laughs.


You three are ANIMALS…. PIGS!!!!!!!


(Finally looking offended)

Hey now, there’s no need for that, pigs are clean animals, clean. I’ve seen

‘m with me own eyes and their clean…clean! Bloody cheek. Did you hear

that Des?


(in agreement with Peter and looking at The Manager)

Aye. Clean are pigs CLEAN!

The Hotel Manager (in response to their comments) looks totally exasperated, he furrows his brow and shakes his head, in a blatant lack of understanding.

Des who has been uncharacteristically quiet for a while, then says to The Manager;


(Pointing at The Tramp)

She started it.

The Tramp, looking at The Manager innocently,throws her hands up straight above her shoulders, like someone giving themselves up to the police. As she puts her hands up, Peter’s Rolex watch drops from her grasped hand. The Rolex bounces on the carpet. All the men in the Suite, look at the watch. The Tramp looks at Peter and shrugs her shoulders.


(Looking at The Manager but pointing at he Tramp)

See lad, I told ya she started it. She’s the one taking liberties, look at it.

He, believe it or not (pointing to Chicken) were a virgin until that dirty

bitch got her hands on him and now look what’s happened. The fat bastard’s

been sexually abused!

Chicken drops his head in shame.


OH NO! Don't tell him that!

The Hotel Manager, looks even more horrified. He actually looks as if he is going to breakdown.


Oh! Dear God, please do not tell me anything more….it's all so disturbing.

Des turns away from him and looks at Chicken


Chicken lad, Where’s it all going to end? Eh Pete, What room is that Annie

Frankie staying in? We’d better keep our eye on Chicken lad, in. Now his

on a roll. He might want to shag every lass he can. Hope you took precautions

Chicken lad!

Chicken groans with embarrassment, not knowing where to look or what to do. The three Farmers and the Hotel Manager, all look at The Tramp.

The Hotel Manager, catches his breath and raises his eyebrows to the ceiling.


(pointing to The Tramp)

Oh please! That’s not going to get pregnant.


(In perfect English and defensive in tone)

I might.

The three Farmers’ look at The Tramp, shocked and opened mouthed.

Chicken starts weeping quietly.

Des looks at the Hotel Manager.

Pete looks at The Tramp with contempt, as he bends down to pick up his Rolex watch, from the floor.


Typical woman. she’s used us for, sex, money, shelter, food, drugs,

and alcohol and now she’s going to prey on some other mugs, for the

weekend and bleed them dry too!

Des and The Tramp start laughing at Peter.

Peter shoots the pair of them a dirty look.


Gentlemen I’m really not interested in the details of your sordid soiree.

Des moves closer to The Hotel Manager.


Is that ‘cos you’re a mincy little poofter?

The Manager can’t believe his ears, nor can The Tramp. she catches her breath and shifts about uncomfortably on her feet, in reaction to Des's statement.


(to Des)

WHAT? What! did you just say?

The Tramp, slowly looks the Hotel Manager up and down, in complete homophobic disgust:


(in perfect English to The Manager)

Errrrrr that’s disgusting, your a homosexual? Yuck.

The Hotel Manager physically flinches back astounded, at the Tramps homophobic

prejudice. The Manager can’t believe his ears. Now He, shakes his head, screws up his face and tentatively takes slow, silent, steps forward, towards The Tramp. When hovering just millimetres in front of her, he studiously examines her awful face and then says



I’m sorry Madame, are YOU passing judgement on ME? YOU! The Tramp.

The Tramp.

The, smelly, fowl, Tramp, who sits outside my hotel, eating rubbish from

the hotel waste! You The Tramp who stinks and sleeps, in human and dog

excrement! and You the Tramp who finds it acceptable to have sex

with the ½ a ton man here?

The Hotel Manager points directly at Chicken.

Des and Peter both look at Chicken and catch their breath in sympathy , at the Hotel Managers offensive `fat-ist’ remark.

The Hotel Manager laughs, as he sees the shock and denial in all The Farmers' faces.


(talking to Chicken sarcastically)

I’m sorry Sir, did you not know that you are a morbidly obese, SEXUAL

DEVIANT? I thought it was plainly obvious just like it’s plainly

obvious that this Royal Suite, is RUINED!!!! RUINED!!! RUINED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


EH! Listen mate your going too far now, this rooms not that

bad…………is it? A lick of paint and a few new wardrobes from Ikea,

now that won’t cost owt lad, owt!



For the last time…its NOT a room, it’s The Royal Suite! I mean it


( The Manager points to the scratched, smashed and scratched wardrobe)


Revolution, only to be destroyed by a Tramp, a dog and some

English, Celtic Pigs.


Alright lad keep ya knickers on! I don’t care what you say,at end `o day,

it’s only a room.

To The Managers horror, Des, Peter, The Tramp and Chicken all start smirking. All of a sudden the Hotel Manager’s attention, is taken to the dog, who has just wandered over to him and is cocking his leg up him and urinating. The Manager is then reduced to a sob, as he realises that his bosses are going to kill him. The Managers face starts to boil up. His body goes ridged and then into spasm. He kicks the dog. It yelps. Then;



GET OUT!!!!!!!!!NOW!!! Get out the lot of you! Your all a poor excuse for

humanity! I’ve never been so repulsed in all my life…..GET OUT..GET OUT!!!!!

The Manager plunges his face in his hands, as The Farmers' try to grab what they can.

(The Bee Gee’s record `More than a woman’ starts to play)

As The Farmers'’ run out of the door, The Manager chases them down to reception, to make sure that they leave.

While running through the hotel, The Farmers' (with their bags over their shoulders) pass the Japanese couple in reception and (with out knowing it) Chicken and his bag, knock them flying.

As The Farmers' leave the hotel. Des and Peter are laughing their heads off. Chicken looks mortified.

The Manager (by this time not caring about anyone or anything) stops at reception and the briefly collapses on to the marble reception desk. His head is in his hands.

The glamorous Receptionists' look very surprised and very bewildered. They have never seen, the Manager’s professional façade slip before. Much to The Receptionists' alarm, The Manager continues to make small whimpering noises and rolls his head back and forth, upon his arms. He remains at reception like that for at least one minute.

The Japanese tourists pick themselves up from the floor and look at him in astonishment. They mutter something quietly between themselves and then step forward and write something in the ``Visitors’ comments book’’, which is on the marble reception desk.

When The Manager eventually elevates his head, he looks straight into the eyes of one of The Receptionists'.



Have one of you got a cigarette?


Yes....I have..


Well……. can I have one.........


What now?


Yes now!


But Sir this is a non-smoking hotel


I know that

(while tapping his foot rapidly and drumming his fingers on the reception desk)


Anyway didn’t you give up last year Sir?


Yes I did, so what? Call the police!



Both Receptionist's turn and look at each other, astounded by The Managers rude behaviour. The Receptionists' both look back to The Manager.


I don’t really care. I need a cigarette (screaming) now!

Shocked Receptionist 2, fakes a desperate smile and reaches in to her hand bag and gives him a cigarette. Receptionist 1 leans forward and lights the cigarette for him, with a diamonte, crystal, encrusted lighter.

Grateful, The Hotel Manager takes a very, long, satisfying, desperate, drag. As The Manager exhales the smoke from the cigarette, his expression changes and he looks as if he hasn’t got a care in the world.

Both receptionist look at each other. They are shocked and worried by his sudden character change.

an antique. Unbelievably it made it past The French
The Royal Suite. And IKEA? This wardrobe, that you have ruined


Are you alright Sir?

The Manager slowly sucks on the cigarette and then exhales once more.


No Helga….I’m not. In a graded classification system of sorts, I've swung so low that this

is really an illusion. In another dimension and I'm already living and working

in a backpackers hostel in Australia......

Both Receptionists' look at each other nervously.


(talking to Receptionist 2)

Do you think that he has taken some Acid?


What shall we do?


How do I know? Should we call a doctor? What does a nervous

break down look like?

The Hotel Manager, chuckles to himself as he listens to the Receptionists' talking about him. As they whisper between themselves, he casually leans across the reception desk and picks up the visitors comments book. The last two written entries are from the American tourists and the Japanese tourists.


As the Manager reads the entries, his face contorts into a mask of rage and then hysteria. The Manager screams hysterically and throws the book across the reception and then stubs the cigarette out on the marble reception desk..

Both Receptionists' catch their breath in shock. All the guests who are watching the unfolding scenario, in the reception area, catch their breath in shock too.

As The Manager throws The book, it accidentally hits a German tourist, on the head.

Shocked gasps resonate around the reception area.

The German tourist literally does not know, what has hit Him. His knees buckle but he does not fall over fully. He staggers comically on the spot, for a few seconds.

Urgently, desiring to quell the maelstrom in reception;


(shouts to the Bell Boy, who is watching behind a statue of Venus)

Quickly, go and get a large brandy for The German tourist.

The Eastern European Bell Boy, scurries off to the bar.


It's Xenophobia! Xenophobia I tell you! ...I've faced this before! I know it.

I warn all you other guests, stay here at your peril! Peril!

The Manager observes silently, shaking his head a little more, in disbelief.

The Bell Boy comes back with the brandy for the German Tourist. Before The Bell Boy has time to hand it to The German Tourist, The Hotel Manager grabs it for himself and downs it in one.

Everyone in reception, catch their breath again.

The Bell Boy then starts to laugh loudly and freely.

The German tourist looks even more furious.

The Hotel Manager ( putting his empty brandy his glass on the marble reception desk) hands the `Visitors Comments Book’ to the German tourist.


There you go…be my guest…..knock yourself out. Write what you like,

I’ve lost my job anyway.

The German Tourist silently accepts the book. The German tourist seems perfectly pacified

by this gesture and he so begins to exude a calm vibration.

The Manager looks back to the Receptionists'


All Germans are art stealers anyway!

The Receptionists' catch their breath once more, at this demeaning insult and so does anyone else who is hanging about in the reception area, listening.

The German Tourist, can utter not one protestation in reaction to this discriminatory slur, as he is busy writing away in the visitors book.

The Hotel Manager laughs to himself, as he finds himself in a state of diminished responsibility.

By this time the Bell Boy, has just emerged out of the bar, nursing and swigging (to himself) a very large brandy. He walks up to Receptionist's 2 and bums a fag off her. As he drags on the fag slowly, while leaning on the statue of Venus, he starts to laugh his head off, as he enjoys the show.


(looking at The Receptionists')

I’m gladz I left Romania. I nezer saz thingzs so Funny! What roomz is

Anniz Frankiz staying in? I fanzcy a bit.


(to the Bell Boy)

I suppose you think that that's funny too! Well it's not! More xenophobia!

And at one of the worlds top hotels too! It's outrageous! Where can I be safe?


Notz in Royalez Suitze, thatz for sure

The two Receptionists'’ look at The Bell Boy astonished, as he takes another liberal swig of brandy. They are outraged by his slur, on such a famous, Dutch, historical icon.


Still laughing, the Three Farmers’ are all standing outside the Hotel. They have been unsuccessful in attempting to hail a cab. As The Farmers' stand in the road, they notice that The Tramp and her dog have resumed their original positions back outside the hotel. The dog is actually sitting in Chicken’s brand new suitcase. The Tramp remains peaceful and ethereal looking (wearing most of Peter's cloths) while lovingly stroking her dog. It is as if nothing at all has ever happened.

The three Farmers’ stare at The Tramp, with their mouths open, absorbing the spectre.

Peter attempts to do a parody of the film `Titantic ’

(the scene when the ship is sinking and Kate Winslet turns to Leonardo Decaprio)

Peter looks at Chicken, deadly serious, clasps his hands above his head, as if he is hanging on to the stern of the sinking `Titanic' and pointing to The Tramp, he says;


(doing a feminine Kate Winslett impersonation)

Chicken this is where we first met

Peter then throws his arms out,trying to replicate the scene where Kate and Leo are at the front of `Titanic ' .


Chicken........ I’m flying!

Des and Peter laugh like a couple of lunatics. Chicken, in a state of complete devastation, just morbidly shakes his head groaning.

After Des and Peter finally stop laughing, Des points out to Peter, that The Tramp is wearing: his expensive T M Lewin shirt, Barber jacket, walking boots and Aquascutum scarf.

Peter begins to look as morbid as Chicken.


Bloody Tramp…those clothes cost me a fortune, fortune!


You’re a tight bastard Peter.


(coming out of his druggy haze and looking at Peter)


Peter and Des look at each other seriously and then back at Chicken. Chicken repeats himself wearily, with sadness


Avarice. That’s the reason you lost your wife.


What you talking about? Those drugs you took must have been bloody

strong lad,


Avarice. It’s one of the seven deadly sins. A man filled with avarice can

only come to no good. Status, greed and possession. He ends up caring

for no other because all he loves is money. Where does avarice lead?

to destruction and loss of all and everything.

Peter and Des stare at Chicken in silence. Peter looks fretfully at Chicken.


What are you talking about? Thou sounds like David Ike? Next you’ll

be saying your the son of God….... I think the Lad’s gone bonkers Des.

Des (completely ignoring Peter) points to The dog, who has a customised pair of Chicken’s Y-fronts, around its body as a coat.


Peter, Chicken can loose it all he likes,I don’t care about his state of mind.

In my mind, this Holiday were worth every penny; what with that dog, those

pants, the washing line, that hotel wanker and Chicken shagging that dirty,

rotten Tramp…It were magic. I'd pay a million pounds, to see all that again.

Ya can’t ask for more than that can ya eh? Aye, it were magic this 'oliday,

magic. Best I've ever had.....I might give that Travel Agent, a bit more

offal next time I see him....skinny twat.

Peter takes another photograph of; The Tramp and the dog.

Des looks at Chicken and points to The Tramp.


Eh...Chicken lad, did you buy that lass a bunch of daffs?


Very funny

Des shakes his head at Chicken


Where's it all going to end Chicken lad? Where?

Chicken starts to get angry.


I tell you where it's ended, it's ended here! here! Here! With me doing

something so revolting and wrong. It's ended with me loosing my virginity,

to a down and out. It's ended with me abusing someone vulnerable and weak.

It's ended with me probably catching a fatal, sexually transmitted disease!

And all I've ever wanted to do was to save myself for someone special..........................



Special? You?

(Des looks at Peter)

Peter lad,your right, he has gone bonkers.


We're going to be arrested for that damage and then I'll get a criminal record

and then we'll be bankrupt! It'll kill me Mam if she knew any of this and.... and

the Dutch will think that all English tourists, are animals. I feel sick.

When we get home, I don't want anything to do, with you again Des. Me Mam

were right all along...........your bad, BAD! through and through.....I hate you.

Your an ignorant pig. I may be uneducated but I'm not stupid. You on the

other hand are spectacularly so,

Peter manages to hail a taxi. It starts to pull up.


Come on…… quick lads. We've got one, before police turn up. I don’t want

to get thrown in a foreign prison….who knows what could happen?

Chicken looks at Peter as if he has three heads.


It has happened! You two just don't care, cos it happened to me!

As the Farmers get into the taxi, The Eastern European Bell Boy, is leaning at the entrance to the hotel. The Bell Boy is still laughing loudly, while still swigging back brandy.

The Bell Boy shouts over to the Farmers', to wave them off.


I lovezzzzzz you pigszz! Lovez you. I will nezer forgez you! Listen

`` If I diez a piece of Mez, will always be forever Englandz''

Goodbyez forevzer! To you, myz pig friendz, farewell!


(looking back over his shoulder at the Bell Boy, in amazement)

What’s that silly fucker going on about? Is everyone on drugs here like?

Des turns back to Chicken. He looks at him for a while before shaking his head and saying


You maybe a sick, twisted, fat twat but lad, at least you ain’ a virgin

any more…but how could ya do it? Even lads' in abattoir wouldn’t have

stooped so low and they'll shag anything, dead or alive!

As the taxi pulls off, The Bell Boy waves them off euphorically. Then placing his hands on his heart

The three Farmers' who have been watching The Bell Boy, turn around to face forward in the taxi. There is a couple of seconds silence before;


You wont tell anyone about this will you? Not my Mother or anyone

else in the village. This would kill me Mam! Kill her! I couldn't live

wi' myself. Please promise me, you two, please, I'm begging, please.

With that Chicken rolls down the window of the taxi and throws up,out of.


The Tramp observes the three Farmers' departure. The Tramp then lights up a fag and turns to her dog and in perfect English says;


Bloody British tourists, all they want is sex…drugs…... rock n’ roll

The Tramp then takes Peters wallet from out of the Barber jacket and lovingly strokes it. Next she pulls Peter’s Rolex, from her pocket, looks at it, puts it on and rubs it. The dog barks and lays It's head affectionately next to its master. The Tramp then begins to laugh. Long hard and hearty.


ACT 111

A relived Chicken returns home to his Mother.


Chicken walking up his Mothers front path. The sun is shining and the cottage looks beautiful. He has no luggage. Chicken's Mother who has been looking out for him,

opens the front door.


Welcome home son. I've missed you.

Chicken falls into his mothers arms and starts to weep. Alarmed, Chickens Mother closes the door.



I'm never going away again Mam....never...EVER!

Chicken’s mother instantly knows that, something has happened to her beloved boy.

he has no luggage and she can see the marks on his face and the red welt around his neck.



Where's all your luggage son? I bought you a new case.



Customs and Excise seized all my luggage and I’ve been ill with some

stomach bug. Then I got attacked by a Cockney on a stag weekend

and that's why I've got all these marks. I don’t want to talk about

the `Cultural Pig Exchange'….it were shite. Oh Mother! I'm never

leaving you again. I've had a terrible time, terrible.


Chicken then flees, straight to his room and throws himself on the bed, sobbing.


Chickens Mother watches her son do this. She does not do or say anything but her face, is pained.

Chicken remains in his room for a week. He tells his Mother, that he has a migraine. Really Chicken is suffering from post-traumatic-stress-disorder. He keeps having flash backs, about shagging The Tramp and uncharacteristically, completely goes off his food. Chicken starts losing weight. Instinctively Chicken’s Mother knows that something is terribly wrong.

Two weeks later, Chicken’s Mother finally phones Des’s Mother


Chicken's Mother picking up her phone and dialling Des's Mother.


Hello love, its Saunderson's Mother here


Hello flower, hows thee?


Oh! not so good. Sorry to ring you but I'm worried sick, about my boy.


OH no!.......is it the usual?


I think so. I've never seen him this bad though! He hasn't been

out of his room for two weeks! I'm really worried, because the

lad ain't eating. Can you try and find out what Des has done to him,

this time please?


Not eating you say? Desmond has gone too far this time. Oh love

I'm so sorry. I'll have a go. Keep your chin up flower. I will

ring you, as soon as I know anything.


Oh thanks love. I can't do owt with him!


Chicken's Mother puts the phone down.


Des's Mother dials Des's number.


Des picks up the phone. Des talks sternly and aggressively





Son, what have you done to Saunderson this time?


Des laughs hysterically and then just rudely hangs up.


Des’s Mother holds the phone out and looks at it. She looks furious and dials Chickens Mothers number.





I'm so sorry, he put the phone down on me. You'd better prepare for the

worst, as knowing my Desmond, he's probably done something terrible’


Chicken's mother cannot say anything. She looks devastated. Very,very slowly, she hangs up the phone. Chicken’s Mother breaks down in tears.



While in the middle of inseminating a pig, Des takes his mobile out of his pocket and phones Peter.


Peter’s mobile rings. Peter is standing in a field amongst his sheep, also working. Peter looks at the phone and sees Des’s name. Looking very serious, Peter removes his flat cap from his head and scratches his scalp and then He answers his phone.




Aye lad, I was just thinking `bout Chicken and Tramp………….when are the

photos ready?

(pig squealing noises and sheep noises can be heard in the background)


Peter dramatically sighs and shakes his head, looking like he wants to forget the whole episode. Then resigned, Peter very, very seriously says



I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.

Both farmers put their mobiles back in their pockets. Des quietly laughs to him self, while Peter shakes his head


(talking about Chicken)

Poor bastard.


Peter pulls up in his van outside Des's farm and honks his horn.

Des is waiting in the road for him. Des jumps straight in.

The two men say nothing to each other and drive along in silence, until they get to the village.

They arrive and Peter pulls up outside of Boots the chemist. Peter parks badly, on double red lines. The two Farmers jump out of the van and walk into Boots. They get to the photographic counter.

A young shop assistant greets them.


Afternoon lass, I’ve got to pick up these.

Peter hands the assistant, his slip-receipt. Both farmers stand still in silence looking desperately serious and not moving a millimetre.

The Boots assistant double takes at The Farmers' because their behaviour is strange.

The Farmers' stare back at her deadpan.

Meanwhile a second Boots assistant walks out on to the shop floor. As the second shop assistant, approaches her colleague, she begins waving her hand about manically, in front of her face.


Cor! What’s that awful smell?