The Complete Fawlty Towers

by John Cleese

  Polly (noticing Basil’s fixed stare): Are you all right, Mr. Fawlty?

  Basil: Mmmm? Yes, yes . . . thanks . . .

  Sybil: What’s the matter, Basil?

  Basil: Nothing, dear, just talking to . . . Dr. Abbott . . .

  Sybil: Oh, now, if I had the money to go to a psychiatrist he’s just the sort I’d choose, I can’t think of anything nicer than having a good old heart-to-heart, I’m sure they understand women . . .

  Basil: Sybil . . .

  Sybil: What, darling?

  Basil: Do you know . . . do you know what he asked me just now . . . out there?

  Sybil: What?

  Basil: He asked me . . . (whispers in her ear)

  Sybil: Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Basil.

  Basil: I’m telling you the truth, honestly, as God is my witness.

  Sybil: What’s got into you today?

  Basil: He turned round and asked me. Just like that.

  Sybil: Well, what did he say?

  Basil: He said . . . (whispers) . . . Then his wife said . . .

  Sybil: They’re talking about holidays, Basil . . . I was just saying to them about how difficult it is to get any . . .

  Basil: Twice a year!! Oh my God . . . What did I say?

  Sybil: It doesn’t matter.

  Basil: Well, how was I to know?

  He exits rapidly into the dining room, but the Abbotts have left. He sprints into the lobby, catching the Abbotts up at the main door.

  Basil: Hallo! You know, we were at cross purposes just now, there you were talking about sex and I thought you were talking about walks. Not sex!! Holidays. Holidays. Sex! Ha ha ha. No, my wife and I have one about twice a year—I mean holiday, a holiday, whereas so far as a good walk goes, well, we have a jolly good walk about two or three times a week, average . . .

  Dr. Abbott: Well, we’re just taking ours now.

  Basil: Thank you . . . well, enjoy it . . . The walk! The walk!

  The Abbotts go out. Basil turns to the reception desk, where Raylene Miles, a very attractive Australian girl, is waiting.

  Basil: I’m so sorry . . .

  Raylene: My name is Raylene Miles. I have a reservation.

  Basil: Ah yes, that’s right. Would you be so good as to fill this in . . . (she takes the card and bends over the desk to write on it; she is wearing a rather low-cut dress and Basil’s eyes stray downwards; she glances up at this very moment; he turns away embarrassed and then looks back) Very nice.

  Raylene: . . . Oh. Thank you.

  Basil: Your thing. I mean, your charms! Charm! (indicating her pendant) In the middle . . .

  Raylene: Yes, I know.

  Basil: May I ask what it is?

  Raylene (writing): It’s a Saint Christopher’s medal.

  Basil: Saint . . . ?

  Raylene: Saint Christopher. (she holds it up so that Basil can look at it; he affects great interest, and at this moment Sybil approaches) Patron saint of travellers.

  Basil: Oh, hallo dear. St. Christopher’s medal. (Sybil gives him a look and moves behind him at the desk) Protects travellers. (to Raylene) Very pretty.

  Sybil: Yes, isn’t she . . . where did you put the order forms, Basil?

  Basil: Er . . . down there, dear.

  Sybil: Where?

  Basil: Down here, dear . . .

  They both crouch down to look for them, and thus fail to see Johnson come in very cautiously through the main door. A pretty girl is with him, keeping out of sight. When he sees that both Basil and Sybil are occupied he signals to the girl, and she nips upstairs. He approaches the desk looking nonchalant.

  Mr. Johnson: Hallo. Could I have the key to number six, please.

  Sybil: Oh, you’re back early this evening, Mr. Johnson.

  Mr. Johnson: Yes, well I’ve got to be up early for mother.

  Sybil gives him the key, with much smiling. He goes upstairs.

  Basil (to Raylene): Thank you. We’ve put you in number seven.

  Sybil (ringing the bell): Manuel . . .

  Basil (moving round the desk to take Raylene’s cases): It’s all right, dear, I’ll take them up. (to Raylene) We have a Spanish porter—we’re training him at the moment . . . be quicker to train an (loudly, after Johnson) ape!!

  He leads off up the stairs, followed by Raylene. Sybil looks after them beadily. Manuel comes out of the bar.

  Sybil: Never mind, Manuel. (she spots a small carrier bag Raylene has left) Oh! (she picks it up and moves off; Manuel looks perplexed)

  The upstairs corridor. Johnson runs along it, opens the door to his room, letting the girl in. He closes the door behind them just as Basil and Raylene appear. They pass the Abbotts’ and Johnson’s rooms before coming to Raylene’s—all three rooms are on the same side.

  Basil: I was just wondering—are you in fact Australian, at all, by any chance, may I ask?

  Raylene: Oh dear, is my accent that strong?

  Basil: Oh, no, no, no, it’s just that you’re quite tall, so I thought . . . (they go into Raylene’s room; Basil puts the cases down) Here we are, this is your room. I hope it’s to your liking, view of the English Riviera down there behind the trees. (she admires the view; he admires her) This is your bathroom . . . here we are . . . (he turns the bathroom light switch, which is just outside the door, on and goes in; then comes out again) Oh . . . light’s not working. (he goes into the bathroom) I’ll just fix it . . . have you had a tiring journey?

  Raylene: Seven hours in the coach. (she starts doing some yoga-type relaxing exercises, rotating her head) Is the dining room still open?

  Basil (from the bathroom): Well, the chef leaves at nine I’m afraid. We could always do you sandwiches.

  Raylene (moving to the wall by the bathroom door): I’d like a hot meal, really. Is there a restaurant near here? (she stands against the wall and does a knees-bend)

  Basil: Yes, there’s an awfully good little Welsh place, Leek House, about five minutes walk—you’d have to go straight away.

  Raylene: Oh, that’ll do fine. (she stretches her arms up)

  Basil: Just turn left out of the gate and straight on and it’s on your right.

  Without looking, he reaches out of the bathroom for the switch. His hand engages Raylene’s left boob. He tries to switch it on, senses something is wrong, and feels it. Raylene looks down in disbelief just as Sybil enters the room. Basil leans out of the bathroom, sees where his hand is, looks at Raylene and then turns and sees Sybil. He snatches his hand away. There is an embarrassed pause.

  Sybil (to Raylene): You left this downstairs.

  She turns and leaves. Basil stares after her, then turns to Raylene.

  Basil: I’m sorry . . . I was trying the switch . . . I’m sorry . . . (he rushes out after Sybil)

  The corridor. Sybil turns as Basil comes out of the room, her hands on her hips.

  Basil: Sybil, Sybil, Sybil, I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was there, I was trying the switch . . .

  Sybil: It’s pathetic, Basil.

  Basil: No, no look, Sybil, I was reaching for the switch . . .

  Sybil: Don’t bother . . .

  Basil: Look, the lights weren’t working in the bathroom, right, OK? So I went in, checked the fitting, which was loose . . .

  Sybil: I’ve read about it, Basil. The male menopause it’s called. Oh . . . and one word of advice. If you’re going to grope a girl, have the gallantry to stay in the room with her while you’re doing it, mmm?

  She turns and leaves. Basil starts after her but gives up. He goes back to Raylene’s room.

  Basil: I’m sorry, I do apologize for . . . I was feeling for the switch.

  Raylene: Oh, I realize, that’s perfectly all right. I hope your wife didn’t . . .

  Basil: Oh, my wife, no, no, she’s been on about that switch.

  Raylene: Where was that restaurant again?

  Basil: Out of the gate, turn left, five minutes, on your right. Leek House.

  Raylene: Thank you.

  Basil: Not
at all.

  He leaves. As he walks down the corridor he passes Johnson’s door.

  Mr. Johnson’s voice: . . . ‘Pretentious? Moi?’

  Basil stops. He hears a female laugh. He listens at the door for a moment, then moves back just before the door opens and Johnson comes out.

  Basil: Yes? Can I help you?

  Mr. Johnson: Um . . . I was wondering if I could get . . . um . . . a drink now.

  Basil: A drink.

  Mr. Johnson (closing the door behind him): Well . . . a bottle of champagne.

  Basil: Champagne?

  Mr. Johnson: Yes.

  Basil: I see . . . you are aware of our rule about visitors, are you?

  Mr. Johnson (innocently): Mmm?

  Basil: No visitors in guests’ rooms after ten o’clock.

  Mr. Johnson: . . . Oh.

  Basil: . . . Of the opposite . . . um . . . sex.

  Mr. Johnson: No, I wasn’t.

  Basil: Ah.

  Mr. Johnson: But I am now. So you’ll send up the champagne, will you?

  Basil (surprised): What?

  Mr. Johnson: . . . The champagne.

  Basil: You’re drinking it on your own, are you?

  Mr. Johnson: I guess I’ll have to.

  Basil: Very well. One bottle of champagne for one.

  Mr. Johnson: Thank you.

  Basil: And one glass.

  Mr. Johnson: That’s all I need . . . unless you care to join me.

  Basil: No thank you. Not when I’m on the job.

  Mr. Johnson: Oh, that’s when I enjoy it the most.

  He goes inside the room. Basil hurries down the stairs and calls.

  Basil: Manuel! (Manuel appears) A bottle of champagne and one glass. Quick!

  Basil darts off upstairs again and stands by Johnson’s door listening hard. Miss Tibbs and Miss Gatsby come up behind him.

  Miss Tibbs: Mr. Fawlty.

  Basil (jumping slightly): Mm?

  Miss Tibbs: Did you know there’s a psychiatrist staying?

  Basil: . . . Yes, yes I did.

  Miss Gatsby: Has he come for the Major?

  Basil: What?

  Miss Tibbs: Has he come for the Major?

  Basil: No.

  Miss Gatsby: Oh good!

  Miss Tibbs: We were rather worried. (they start to move away)

  Miss Gatsby (to Miss Tibbs): I’m sure they have them in Birmingham too.

  They go off up the corridor. Basil moves to listen at the door again and as he does so it opens and Johnson is standing there.

  Basil: Good night, ladies. (to Johnson) It’s just coming. (he stands there; Johnson stands looking at him; he has to move off) Won’t be a moment.

  He moves away and Johnson closes his door. Basil pauses by the next door, looks around, unlocks it, and slips in. It is the Abbotts’ room. In the dark he closes the door behind him and goes over to the wall contiguous with Johnson’s room. Putting his ear to the wall he listens intently. The Abbotts walk in and switch the light on. He sees them and starts, reacting a second time when he realizes that the man is the dreaded psychiatrist person. He goes smoothly into a wall-checking routine, tapping it in the manner of a doctor sounding someone’s chest.

  Basil: This wall . . . er, we had some complaints from downstairs . . . I’m just giving it a check, OK? . . . yes, I think that’s fine . . . Hang on . . . (pauses dramatically) No! No, we’re all right. Fine, well, sorry to disturb you. Good night. Good night. (he slips out of the door)

  The Abbotts: (bemused) Good night.

  In the corridor, Basil sees the coast is clear and puts his ear to Johnson’s door. Mrs. Abbott comes out of her room. Basil sees her and sounds the door a couple of times, just as he did in the Abbotts’ room.

  Basil: Ah . . . (turns to Mrs. Abbott) Can I help you?

  Mrs. Abbott: The bathroom?

  Basil: Yes. Second on the left.

  She moves off. The door opens and Johnson is standing there behind Basil.

  Mr. Johnson: Yes?

  Basil: It’s just coming.

  Johnson gives him a very meaningful look and closes the door. In his room, he indicates to the girl, who is sitting on his bed, that someone is hovering about in the corridor. He bolts the door. In the corridor, Manuel runs up with a tray with a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and a glass on it. Basil takes it, puts his other hand on the doorknob. Takes a deep breath and turns the knob and hits the door with his shoulder. As it’s bolted he bounces back dropping the tray. Manuel neatly catches the ice bucket with the bottle in it; the tray and glass drop noisily. Johnson’s door opens. Basil sees Johnson and slaps Manuel on the head. Manuel drops the ice bucket.

  Basil (to Manuel): Stupidissimo! You continental cretin! (to Johnson) I’m sorry. I’ll get another. (to Manuel) Un altero. Pronto! Pronto! Pronto! (he waves Manuel away)

  Dr. Abbott (looking out of his room): Everything all right?

  Basil: Yes, fine, thank you. I’m afraid that Spanish ape . . . sorry . . . person . . . bungled it again. Dago bird brain! God knows how they ever got an Armada together. Still, I’ll clear this up . . . right, well, if you’d like to go back to your rooms, thank you.

  The good Dr. Abbott disappears and Johnson also closes his door. Basil steps back for a moment and the Major hurries up to him.

  The Major: Fawlty!

  Basil: Yes?

  The Major: Here, here . . . I thought you ought to know . . .

  Basil: What?

  The Major: There’s a psychiatrist in the hotel.

  Basil: Yes, I know.

  The Major: You know?

  Basil: Yes.

  The Major: Oh! Well apparently he’s dressed up as a guest.

  Basil: Well, he is a guest, Major. (the Major wanders off; to himself) Perhaps he has come to get you.

  Manuel hurries up with another tray with champagne and a glass on it. Basil takes the tray and knocks on Johnson’s door. In Johnson’s room, the girl is sitting on the bed. She nips into the bathroom and he lies nonchalantly back on the bed reading a newspaper.

  Mr. Johnson: Come! (Basil enters; everything looks normal) Thank you. On the table, please. Thank you.

  Basil puts the tray down, having a good look round. He spots an ashtray.

  Basil: Ah! (he empties its contents into his hand, glances round once more and goes to the door) Thank you. (he goes out; there is a pause, then he suddenly re-opens the door) Yes?

  Failing to catch Johnson doing anything he closes the door. In the corridor, he opens his palm and peers at the ashes. He holds a cigarette butt up close to his eye. Dr. Abbott comes out of his room behind Basil. Basil sees him after a moment, puts his hand behind his back suspiciously and then produces it again and opens it to show he is not behaving suspiciously.

  Basil: Filthy habit. (dusts the ash off his hands)

  Dr. Abbott: The bathroom.

  Basil: Oh, second on the left.

  Dr. Abbott moves off. Basil creeps up to Raylene’s room, opens the door and slips in. It is dark. He makes for the wall. But Raylene is asleep on the bed, and just as he gets there she wakes and screams.

  Raylene: Aaaaaah! Who is it?!

  Basil: It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s only me! Please, please, it’s only me!

  Raylene: What are you doing? What do you want?

  Dr. Abbott comes in and switches on the light.

  Dr. Abbott: What’s going on?

  Basil: Nothing! I didn’t know she was in here. Just came in to check the wall. (to Raylene) Do you mind? . . . Sorry . . . I thought you’d gone down to the restaurant. (he sounds the wall)

  Raylene (puzzled): I was just so tired.

  Basil: No, that’s fine. Well, sorry to disturb you. (to Dr. Abbott) Bloody walls. (he leaves)

  Dr. Abbott (to Raylene): Are you all right now?

  The corridor. Basil comes out. Sybil is hurrying up.

  Sybil: What was that?

  Basil: What? Er . . . nothing, dear . . .

  Sybil: Why was s
he screaming? What were you doing?

  Mr. Johnson (looking out of his room): What’s going on?

  Basil: Nothing. She thought there was someone in her room.

  Mr. Johnson: Someone in her room?!

  Basil: Yes, someone in her room!

  Mr. Johnson: Oh . . . you’ll have to charge her double then.

  He goes back inside. Dr. Abbott comes out of Raylene’s room.

  Sybil (to Basil): What were you doing in there?

  Basil (to Dr. Abbott): Is she all right?

  Dr. Abbott: She’s all right now. (he goes into his room)

  Sybil (taking Basil’s arm): What were you doing in there?

  Raylene comes out of her room.

  Raylene: Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Fawlty. I didn’t realize it was you.

  Basil: That’s all right. That’s all right. (to Sybil) I’ll tell you . . . I’ll tell you later. (he hurries off; Sybil is looking distinctly thoughtful)

  Raylene: Silly of me, sorry, I didn’t know it was him. He came in to check the walls.

  Sybil: To check the walls?

  The lobby. Manuel is standing eating an ice-cream. Basil hurtles down the stairs.

  Basil: Manuel! Manuel! Quick! Come on!

  He flies out through the main door. Manuel puts his ice-cream down and follows. They run outside. Basil picks up a ladder lying on the ground and they position it beneath a lighted window. In Johnson’s room, Johnson is pouring champagne into a plastic mug for the girl. Outside, Basil starts to climb the ladder. Manuel follows, until Basil motions him back. He slides down. In Johnson’s room he and the girl are drinking their champagne. Outside, Basil reaches the top of the ladder. He peers in through the window. However, it is the Abbotts’ room he is looking into. Mrs. Abbott, in her nightdress, is brushing her hair. Dr. Abbott is undressing. Just as Basil realizes his mistake they see him. They stare. He smiles wanly and starts sounding the window. He reaches too high and overbalances out of sight. The ladder falls back. Basil lands on his back with the ladder on top of him. He groans.

  Manuel: Help! Help! (he rushes back into the hotel)

  In the lobby, Sybil is just coming down the stairs.

  Sybil: Basil! Basil! (she goes into the dining room)

  Manuel (running in): Mrs. Fawlty! Oh, Mrs. Fawlty . . . Mr. Fawlty!

  Sybil: What?

  Manuel: He hurt. He fall off ladder.