Written by Skoob1999
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Sunday, 6 February 2011

image for Up The Buses! - Part Four More Fucking Buses. This Morning. On Euston Road.

Act 3 - Scene 1

Interior. Stan's house. Stan, Mum and Olive are sitting at the breakfast table. Mum is looking at Stan with a concerned expression.

MUM: 'Ere Stan love...are you all right boy?

STAN: (Obviously feigning being in serious discomfort) I'll be all right mum. It's just me blinkin' cor blimey back...(Stan winces) I'm just a bit tender at the moment.

MUM: (Concerned, maternal) Ooh Stan! You should have a nice lie dahn on the sofa love! That's the trouble wiv chasing all that crumpet - it ain't good for your spine...

STAN: It ain't chasin' the crumpet wot does the damage mum - it's when yer catches 'em! Cor blimey...I feel like I've been blinkin' stretched aht on one o' them medicalevil racks or summink...

OLIVE: (Dreamily) My Arthur made me feel like that once...

STAN: Do what sis? Just the blinkin' cor lumme bleedin' once?

(CUE HYSTERICAL CANNED LAUGHTER)

OLIVE: (Hesitantly) Well...when I say "once" - I suppose wot I'm really sayin' is "nearly."

STAN: (Laughing) Cor blinkin' blimey Olive! You'd 'ave been better off buyin' a bleedin' Alsatian dog than wot you would marryin' your Arfur!

MUM: Oohh! I say! Our Stan! That was a bit naughty wonnit?

STAN: Wotcha mean Mum?

MUM: Talkin' like that Stan! It ain't right! That sort o' talk's gonna make my Olive fink she'll never get her lady engine proper lubricated...

STAN: Do wot?

OLIVE: (As if resigned to her fate...) Stan's right Mum. I would've been better orf wiv an Alsatian...

MUM: Ooh Olive! Wot a terrible fing ter say!

OLIVE: (Bursts into tears. Emotional.) It's alright for you and Stan Mum - always larfin abaht crumpet an' makin' smutty incommunicados. But I 'ave to live it wiv Arfur...and I would 'ave been better orf wiv an Alsatian! You don't 'ave ter clean up after a bleedin' Alsatian - or do it's blimmin' laundry...and from wot I've 'eard - they're always up for a sniff...which is more than wot my Arfur is! (Olive bursts into full blown tears)

STAN: Cor blimey an ting mavver - wot's got into our Olive?

OLIVE: (Wailing loudly) Nuffink our Stan! That's the blinkin' cor blimey problem innit! Whenever my Arfur gets a bleedin' sniff it puts him to bleedin' sleep! (Regains composure) (Sniffs) Anyway our Stan...wot you talkin' patois for? You int Jamaican - or what evvah - innit?"

STAN: Cor blimey! 'Ow the 'eck did our Arfur ever look at our Olive as being crumpet? He must have been stark starin' bleedin' bonkers!

MUM: Ooh! Our Stan! You oughta be ashamed o' yo'sef innit G?

STAN: Oh mah Gawd - we is losin' da plot 'ere innit Blood? Me could kinda use a knock on de door innit. An ting. Me homies see dis discumbobulation an ting me ganna lose aaaalll me cred innit. An dat. Sin. Ya knarr wot I mean an ting?

MUM: Stan?

STAN: Yo, wossup baby momma?

MUM: I tell you waddup blood...

DIRECTOR: (Enters stage left, waving his arms about) CUT! CUT - What the fuck are you doing? I'm not fucking Guy Ritchie! This ain't Bethnal Green! Just do it as per the script! Right?

(SFX - A FRANTIC KNOCK ON THE DOOR.)

STAN: Who's that?

OLIVE: (Wistfully) I dunno. I 'opes it's somebody wiv a big package or summink. Coz I could do wiv a portion. Larst time I had a decent portion was up the 'Ong 'Kong Garden takeaway.

(ENTER JACK. THE HORSE FACED LOTHARIO, AS MUM ANSWERS THE DOOR)

(CUE HYSTERICAL CANNED LAUGHTER. JACK MILKS IT FOR ALL IT'S WORTH, STRIKING POSES AND GURNING FOR THE CAMERAS.)

JACK: Hey Stan, me old mucker...saved you from a fate worse than death here I have...

STAN: What you mean Jacko?

JACK: (Gurning for the cameras as he lights a cigarette, leans against the door jamb looking casual...) Well mate - It's like this, me old china - the way I look at it - I haven't only stopped your entire family from talking shit in Ja-fake-an patois, I mean - how fahkin pretentious is dat an ting? (Resumes casual air) but I just thought I'd give you a quick heads up that Blakey's on his way to pay you a visit. To see how your back is and that...

STAN: Blakey? Oh my Gawd! He can't! There's got to be some union law against it! For Gawd's sake help me aht here Jack!

JACK: Sorry mate - no can do. He already knows you wuz orf wiv der crumpet larst night up in that field by the lido. So he's on his way rahnd 'ere to make sure you ain't shirkin' an' that innit...(Jack pauses. Shakes head. Says to camera:) Crikey! They got me doin' the Ja-fake-an patio now! I'm blinkin' well orf!"

(JACK MAKES A HASTY EXIT. CUT TO MUM GAZING LOVINGLY AT STAN...)

MUM: Don't worry mah precious little angel. You ain't got nuffink to hide. You've got a bad back wiv chasing crumpet and bonkin' 'em senseless in fields dahn by the lido wot is probably full o' dog turds anyway. So romantic...my boy draining his sack into a dirty slapper in a field full of shit...in the moonlight...oh Stan...

STAN: Nuffink to hide? Mum! Blakey's coming rahnd here! And...erm...I've got a confession to make...

MUM: What, like in them 70s sex comedies?

STAN: For Gawd's sake Mum! Every blinkin' blasted fing we got in the arse has been nicked from the bus depot! All of it!

MUM: Nah...

STAN: Listen to me! For once in yer life, yer silly bint! The furniture is reupholstered bus seats from the depot. Wiv nicked material wot I wangled out of Nobby from the stores. Unless we can cover that up - Blakey's gonna have a field day! Everything we've got in this arse is nicked! I won't just get the bleedin' sack - they'll throw me in the chokey for a blitherin' five stretch!

OLIVE: Somebody once really stretched me over a skip by the lido...good it was too...wish my Arthur had as much enthusiasm for crumpet...

STAN: (Stan and Mum exchange bemused glances) It wasn't me sis. I swear. It don't matter how misted up me beer goggles is - I can still tell the difference between me own sister and a complete stranger...crumpet wise that is...

OLIVE: (Dreamily, wistfully) He said his name was Jack and that he'd have to go up the tradesman's entrance coz the condom machine was broke...(sighs) ...most romantic time I ever had being rogered rotten by a randy bus conductor up against a skip...

(CLOSE UP - MUM AND STAN GAWP IN DISBELIEF AS OLIVE GAZES INTO THE DISTANCE)

STAN: Oh...my...blinkin'...Gawd...

(SFX - A KNOCK ON THE DOOR. STAN AND MUM APPEAR TO BE PANICKING)

MUM: (Peeking out of the window) Stan...it's Inspector Blake - and by the look on his dial, he's gunner 'ave your guts for garters...

STAN: Oh mah Gawd! What're we gonna do!

DISSOLVE

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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