The Bedsitting Room

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The Bedsitting Room Page 1

by Spike Milligan




  Spike Milligan

  Ireland, 1918-2002

  The Bedsitting Room

  1970, EN

  Playscript for a work first staged in 1963, which was very surreal, even by the late great Spike Milligan’s standards. If you never saw the play, now’s your chance to find out what happened after Lord Fortnum changed into a Bedsitting Room as the result of a nuclear holocaust. And if you did see the play – well, you still want to find out.

  Table of contents (9)

  Foreword

  Intraducshun

  Act One

  Act Two

  Interval Sketches (1)

  Interval Sketches (2)

  Act Three

  Cast List

  Prop List

  Foreword

  The contents of this book defy description, so don’t expect me to tell you what it’s about. It’s that tremendously successful play which was first staged at the Mermaid Theatre in 1963, moved on to the Duke of York’s and the Comedy, and then took off round the country. If you never saw the play, now’s your chance to find out what happened after Lord Fortnum changed into a Bedsitting Room as the result of a nuclear holocaust. And if you did see the play – well, you still want to find out.

  ♦

  I think you’d better buy a copy and read it, or ask at your library, or borrow it, but best of all, buy it because if you borrow it you won’t give it back, and you’ll feel guilty and you’ll lose a friend or get fined so buy it and read it.

  Intraducshun

  So I rang Spike an sed wat about a staj play for us sumtime. An he sed wot with orl these fred scripts on my plate, sum opes. But he sed there iz wun of our lads as a gud ideer for a staj play an e mite rite you wun, iz name is John Antrobus, and i wil sen him roun ter see you, so i sed rite.

  An I sed i eer you av got an ideer for a staj play, an he sed that iz rite. An he sed it is about a man oo gets changed into er bedsitin room. And I sed that souns vry promisin an i would like yeu to get rite doun an rite it for us. And i pade him wot is corld an advarnse, which iz sumthin ter be going on with, an orf he went and I never seed the culer of im agen fer 9 munths.

  An then he cum roun an sed he woz getin on with it, an I sed abowt time to! An orf he went agen, an it woz anuthr 7 munths bifor I seed im a gen. An then he sed it woz cumin on an I sed wood you lik a bit mor ter be getin on with an he sed no i am orlrite.

  An then cum Treshur Hand time, larst crismus but wun, an Spike woz Bengun the best that ever woz or wilbee, tho i sey it muself who am a carikteracter, an a vry jelus wun an envyus too! God fergive me! An sudnly ther wos John and Spike in Spikz dresin rume with the dor lokd an a tipriter goin like mad. Thowz of yeu oo no Treshur Hand will reeliz the part of Bengun iz a short wun, rite in the midl of the play, mor lik a lekcher. An there is plenti of time orl roun it for the acter to do somthin els besids. So there woz John an Spike typriterin awa lik mad in Spikz dresin rume, an showtin at eechuther, an Spike woz bangin the tabel. An wen I tuk them in ther foud, an sum paper, an sum noo tipriterin ribihs, ther wox Spike on th flawr compozin, an John woz compozin bak at im an typriterin it doun. And it got to such a pich I had ter go owt of th roum becos they wood not be gainsed. An I arskd if thay wood lik sum mor muni to be goin on with, but John sed no pis orf! So orf I pist! I am sorry to be rood but thats how it woz an I no yeu wil want the troom, wich iz sed to be more preshus than roobiz.

  An thats how th bedsitin room got dun. An it woz tride owt at Kantrbry at a theatr cald the Marlow an Mister Tynan oo rites the peesix in the ‘Observar’ went doun an give it iz akerlade, wich is considered enuf fer any play in all conshuns. An now it is here, but not the same, becoz it is biger an they have put in a lot mor stuff to mak it betr, an we hope it wil now be orlrite.

  Plees do not think John an Spike ar wikid men oo rite such stuf. An plees do not think we are wikid pepel for putin it on. Reely they luv england, an th pools, an th old aj penshuners, an parliment, an Misis Topham, an the TUC, ancetra, ancetra. An John woz at Sandherst, an that iz wear he lernt a lot of the stuf that iz in thiz play, but no wun nos wear Spike lernt wot he lernt cos he iz vry uneddikated man with a big sole…a bit to big if yu arsk me! An sumtimes you feel lik kickin im up the arse, but yoo wil be glad to heer he still has as much hope as will cuver a sixpence. So God bless yoo orl an joly gud luk.

  p.s. So you see it woz reely comishund, an rote, an racked owt heer, an partley brawt to bein, an we ar prowd to be wun of its consideribel midwyvs.

  p.p.s. An I shud tell yeu it neerly ment a sizarian!

  Bernerd Miles

  Act One

  Back projection of moving (but silent) film of explosion of H-bomb at an atoll. Taken from the sea level, then from the air. Sound with the above: A baby cooing in its pram. Black out.

  Spotlight on piano. Enter PIANIST on rostrum wearing evening dress. PIANIST talks gibberish as though announcing what he will play. He then sings ‘When the Lights go on again all over the World’ (at the same time accompanying himself on piano). During songs, large placard is lowered from above with the words: BUDDHISTS USE ESSO! (Try to use the same typography as the Esso signs use.) This placard obscures the PIANIST. There enters a man in black cloak, black hat, with a long pole on the end of which is affixed a white-gloved pointing finger, the index finger being larger than necessary and slightly bulbous at the tip. He also sings in harmony with the PIANIST. A second placard is lowered advertising…Before each placard is lowered the PHANTOM shouts

  Phantom:

  Lower Awayyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

  and points to the placards.

  He then walks to a charred black tree, the branches of which appear to have grown barbed wire; in its branches is a black-headed vulture. The PHANTOM opens a small door in tree, inserts a key, winds up (sound of winding), then prods the vulture.

  Phantom:

  Come on little birdie.

  Sound: A sweet twittering noise is heard.

  Voice over loudspeaker interrupts all the proceedings.

  Voice:

  Ladies and gentlemen, the curtain will be rising in one minute. Will you kindly take your seats.

  The effect of this announcement on the man in black coat is to make him break down in dismay and exits crying. The placards are flown. Black out.

  Sound over P.A.: ‘Housewives’ Choice Music’. From inside the pyramid of boots, the light is faded up, showing translucent red. Stage lights come up. Enter stage right CAPTAIN PONTIUS KAK. He wears a brown overall and a ‘Macmillan Moscow hat’ (under his overall he wears officer K.D. hot climate uniform, long trousers), has a small portable transistor radio slung over his shoulder. Carries a small, rigid, hand-held Union Jack. He climbs up the ladder against the side of the boots. Plants the Union Jack.

  Captain Kak:

  (to audience) Why? Because it was there!

  Sound over P.A.: ‘Housewives’ Music’ stops. Three pips. Pause. PONTIUS KAK hits the radio. It emits another pip.

  Girl understudy:

  (microphone side stage over the P.A.) This is the Radio Caroline Service of the BBC. The time is ten-thirty and here is the news read by Mrs Wedgwood Benn. Parliament resumes its debate on debates about questions and quosthions were asked. Mr Fnockington Crapologies asked the Defence Secretary: “Who was that lady I saw you with last night?” The Minister declined to answer and said: “The matter is being looked into.” Mr Wilson, Prime Minister of no fixed politics, then made the following statement.

  Spike:

  On this the first anniversary of the Nuclear Misunderstanding which led to World War Three, I’d like to point out that under a Labour Administration, this was the shortest World War on record, two minutes twenty-eight seconds precisely, including the signing of the Peace Treaty, which is
now on sale at Her Majesty’s Stationery Office. The – er – the – er – Great Task of burying our forty-eight million dead was carried out with cheerfulness and goodwill, so characteristic of the Labour Party. When this terrible incident occurred, I was at the UNO Disarmament Conference with President Johnson. I flew home immediately and was greeted on the steps of N°10 by a Mr Breznief…who invited me in. There followed some pretty hard bargaining and he finally agreed to fix the rent of N°10 at an undisclosed figure of Bloody Incomes Policy I…I want my tea…

  Sound off of obvious coconut shells: impressions of horse approaching.

  Mate:

  Whoa back, whoa…

  Enter LORD FORTNUM. He is dressed in a silk black top hat, with a Revolving Radar Scanner protruding from the top. Long, tatty, velvet-collared black overcoat, wearing a Harrow tie, white shirt, striped City trousers; from the knees down his legs are covered with newspapers held in place by string. Slung over his shoulder is a large packet of Lux. He pulls a portable (on wheels) shop window, mid stage in front of the pile of boots. FORTNUM peers through the shop window, he takes a fish from under his arm, holds it up and says (in the grand manner)

  Lord Fortnum:

  Ah! This must be the Plaice! (Aside) Not my favourite opening line actually. My favourite is ‘Lady Teasdale by all that’s damnable!’Yes, I’ll try that.

  Holds up fish.

  Lord Fortnum:

  (aside) I prompt!

  Bob Todd:

  (off) Lady Teasdale by all that’s damnable!

  Lord Fortnum:

  What? That’s my line!

  Note: The fish is the length of an umbrella, and has an umbrella handle protruding from out of its mouth. FORTNUM taps on shop window to attract KAK’s attention.

  Lord Fortnum:

  I say you – you up here…

  KAK looks down at FORTNUM: from here on, whoever is BEHIND the shop front window (that is, up stage) always mimes the words of his dialogue.

  Captain Kak:

  (mime) Did you call me?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Can you come here…

  Captain Kak:

  (descends ladder) I can’t hear what you’re saying…

  Lord Fortnum:

  Are you Captain Pontius Kak?

  KAK is now right behind the window and is miming that he cannot hear.

  Lord Fortnum:

  (shouting) Are you…Oh, it’s no good, I can’t hear a…

  He walks behind the window. At the same time KAK comes to the front of the window.

  Captain Kak:

  …Oldest consenting male adult?

  Lord Fortnum:

  (shouting in mime) For God’s sake. I’m trying to find out who you are.

  Captain Kak:

  I wonder if he’s saying happiness is egg shaped?

  KAK opens the door in between the shop windows: immediately we hear FORTNUM in mid-sentence.

  Lord Fortnum:

  …is egg shaped!

  Captain Kak:

  Please don’t stand out there shouting – people will talk.

  FORTNUM is entering.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Sorry. Are you – er – Captain Pontius Kak?

  Captain Kak:

  Yes. Pronounced Kak as in ‘You dirty swine’.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Good. I’ve been advised to come and see you.

  Captain Kak:

  Certainly – which part would you like to see first?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Preferably me.

  Captain Kak:

  Good, now do you want Psychiatry or Army Surplus?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Both, I want Surplus Army Psychiatry.

  Captain Kak:

  Go Ooooooooo

  Lord Fortnum:

  OOOOOOOOO

  KAK puts his own finger in FORTNUM’S mouth and wobbles it.

  Captain Kak:

  Anything else?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, a small brown loaf.

  Captain Kak:

  Don’t say Brown, say (Prices and Incomes) Queer.

  Lord Fortnum:

  (furtive) All right, a small Queer Loaf (or Prices and Incomes Loaf).

  Captain Kak:

  You got here just in time.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Why?

  Captain Kak:

  We haven’t got any. Is that your Horse-Drawn Rolls outside?

  Lord Fortnum:

  I suppose it’s all right to say yes?

  Captain Kak:

  Yes.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, I acquired it from Lord Montague; he just bought a horse-drawn Mercedes from Lord Snowden.

  Captain Kak:

  Not the Lord Snowden?

  Lord Fortnum:

  No, a Lord Snowden.

  Captain Kak:

  Ah! The woods are full of them. Now – er – I didn’t quite catch your name.

  Lord Fortnum:

  My card (Pronounces ‘M’Card’. Hands card across)

  Captain Kak:

  MacCard? Scotsman, eh? Wait, this card’s blank.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, I suffer from loss of memory. Actually my name’s on the back.

  Captain Kak:

  Damn silly place to have it printed.

  Lord Fortnum:

  I let one side for advertising.

  Captain Kak:

  (turns card) Ahh. Lord Fortnum of Alamein?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, I bought the title off an old soldier who found himself on hard times.

  Captain Kak:

  (looks at FORTNUM’s radar topper) Did the hat go with it?

  Lord Fortnum:

  No no, this is the new four-minute early-warning hat. It – er – it (gleefully) gives you that extra minute in bed.

  Captain Kak:

  (pause. Looks) Yes. Step into the Surgery, will you?

  FORTNUM steps into a white chipped enamel wash basin which is centre stage next to couch. KAK walks around FORTNUM.

  Captain Kak:

  Now answer these questions. Do you think sleeping alone is contagious?

  Lord Fortnum:

  I don’t know. I’ve never had it.

  Captain Kak:

  Right, now let’s have you up on the couch.

  FORTNUM lies on a couch; a feather is suspended over his midriff from a coiled wire attached to side of couch. KAK agitates the feather.

  Captain Kak:

  This self-same couch was invented by one of the Earls of Warwick, for some strange…foul and perverted reason!!!!!

  As he says the last sentence he becomes obsessed and trembles. FORTNUM leaps from the couch holding his trousers.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Now see here! There’s a limit to what I’ll do.

  Captain Kak:

  Well, we’ll go as far as that then, shall we????

  FORTNUM grudgingly lies down again. KAK re-agitates the feather.

  Lord Fortnum:

  …I say, it’s not unpleasant.

  Captain Kak:

  No, it’s only when the convulsions start that–

  Here FORTNUM goes to get up.

  Captain Kak:

  There, there. (Holds him down) Now…

  KAK walks to head of the couch, goes to sit on an empty space. At the last moment a DICKENSIAN CLERK holding a chair under himself slides underneath KAK, so that KAK is seated in his lap. This is all done in one smooth movement.

  Captain Kak:

  Now then, start at the beginning, tell me all.

  Lord Fortnum:

  My paternal ancestor Lord Crapologies Fel de Minge.

  Captain Kak:

  (quietly without stopping FORTNUM speaking) Did he?

  Lord Fortnum:

  What? Came over with the William The Conqueror, first class of course…it was Hastings Ten Sixty-six…

  Captain Kak:

  (writes down on pad) Hastings Ten Sixty Six. Right, I’ll
phone him later.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, he’ll bear me out…, Well, he was a tall man with garnished ginger knees and several ways about him. On Sundays they say he took a spotted woman to church…Now in the late autumn of 1066, during an attack of Coptic Gadfly on the Knack-eeeeee.

  Captain Kak:

  Yes yes, needn’t go back that far. How do you spell Knack-ee?

  Lord Fortnum:

  I don’t. Could you – er–

  Captain Kak:

  Oh, I’m sorry. (He re-agitates the feather) Now tell me something more recent.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Well if you must know, everything was going swimmingly until they dropped this terrible…

  Sound of mule raspberries. Groans. Everybody on stage leaps up and starts swiping at invisible flying things. The PIANIST, who up to now has been reading a paper behind drawn curtains, pulls back the curtains and launches into a furious version of ‘When the Lights go on again’. At the same time a SMALL MAN in a leopard skin, Army boots, great ginger wig (and it must be ENORMOUS) and great red beard, enters with a great club with which he batters the stage in a frenzy. The noise stops, the LITTLE MAN exits in tears. PIANIST pulls the curtains on his platform. All reverts to normal.

  Captain Kak:

  The H-bomb?

  Lord Fortnum:

  Yes, that’s the one. Ever since then, I’ve been strangely troubled.

  Captain Kak:

  Did the noise keep you awake?

  Lord Fortnum:

  No, I slept like a log, I do tree impressions as well. When I came to I discovered a marked change. As was my wont I toddled along for lunch at the Constitutional Club, and it had gone – rubble, nothing but rubble, and such small portions. I saw Lord Hailsham standing outside stark naked waving a Union Jack and shouting ‘Vive le Sport’. I could see his membership had lapsed, so I ignored him. I wrote a stiff letter to The Times, then, they broke the news to me. While I’d been asleep, they’d had World War III. (Walks forward, looks up) I didn’t get a chance to join the regiment.

  Captain Kak:

  There, there – that part of it came as quite a shock to me too; fortunately I managed to get there in time for a disability pension.

  Lord Fortnum:

  Well, since the bomb I haven’t eaten a thing.

  Captain Kak:

  Why not?

 

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