BOTTOM
S,UP
Scene 4. The Tent.
[Night-time. The moon is full. Eddie and Richie are squeezed next to each
other in the tent. The sign that says "DOGS TOILET" is inside the tent.]
Richie: Right. Well. Here we are Edward. You sure you didn't sneak a quick
peek at my underpants when I was getting into my sleeping bag?
Eddie: Absolutely Richie. I give you my word of honour. [formally] I
didn't get even the slightest glimpse of your gaudily stained
love-blob containers.
Richie: All right. Good. Well, nighty-night, then... [lies back; looks
around; somewhat at a loss] What do you normally do when you got
to bed, Eddie?
Eddie: I normally have a bit of a kip.
Richie: You're so concise. I mean, what's your going-to-bed routine?
Eddie: Ah, routine. Well, I normally... get into bed... and then I have a
bit of a kip.
Richie: Wonder what's on telly right now. Probably missing Emmerdale Farm.
Matt'll have his arm up some cow's backside by now. Lucky bugger.
Eddie: We'll miss The Late Show of course. Cor, [clicks teeth] that
bird in the red specs... [puffs appreciatively]
Richie: Eddie, are you carrying a torch for her?
Eddie: [looks down] No, it's just the way my trousers ruck up.
Richie: Oh. [looks around idly; notices Eddie has started reading] What
are you reading, Eddie?
Eddie: I don't know, I'm too drunk to focus.
Richie: [sigh] Bored now... [sigh] You ever been hang-gliding Eddie?
Eddie: Nope.
Richie: No, nor me. Well that's exhausted that one, then. Hooh. I can't
think of anything else to talk about you know--
Eddie: [forcefully] Well night-night then!
Richie: Yes, I suppose so.
Night-night. Sleep tight.
Hope-the-bed-bugs-do-not-bite.
If they do, do a poo, put it in a Cornish stew.
Into the ambulance, dring dring dring,
Fish trousers elephant in Peking.
Saw a busy bee, tiddle-diddle-dee,
Daddy's an accountant just like me.
Night-night, God bless. [closes eyes]
[pause; opens eyes] I'm still not asleep you know... You know, I
think it's this sleeping bag. [wriggles uncomfortably] It's
letting in a draft.
Eddie: Oh, my heart bleeds. [indicating his lack of bag]
Richie: Come on Eddie. I'm more sensitive than you are. Do us a favour, me
old pal. Grab a hold of my drawstring and give it a bloody good
yank.
Eddie: [slightly shocked] I beg your pardon?
Richie: Here, here.
Eddie: Oh.
[Eddie pulls the string tight around Richie's neck.]
Richie: [strangulated] Okay, fine, fine! Good. Right. Night-night, then.
Mmm... [leans over to kiss Eddie, suddenly realises it's
inappropriate] Oh, no, no, no! [sighs] Put the light out Eddie,
would you?
[Eddie starts to snore, his book over his face. Richie looks at him
resignedly.]
Richie: Oh... [tries to escape from his bag] Oh my God, I can't get out.
I'll have to do it meself.
[Richie wriggles over to the lamp and tries to blow it out, inching closer
to it. He falls forward, burning his face on the lamp.]
Richie: Aaarh, aaarh! [tries to blow upwards onto his face] Huh--oh,
God, who'd be me? Haahh. Night-night then world.
[He closes his eyes... A storm starts with a clap of thunder and flashes of
lightning. He sits up, startled, panting slightly. Rain pours down. A
rather unconvincing owl hoots.]
Richie: Eddie, Eddie! There's someone outside, doing owl impressions.
[owl hoots again] Not very good ones, either. Eddie!
[Another thunderclap. Eddie starts thrashing around in his sleep.]
Eddie: Daah, daah, daaaaah!
[Richie hits him repeatedly with the cooking pot, holding it in his mouth.]
Eddie: What are you doing that for? I was having a dream.
Richie: I know. It sounded harrowing.
Eddie: No! I was in bed with Kim Basinger. It was fantastic. Let's get
back to sleep very quickly. [they shut their eyes; Eddie suddenly
wakes up, yelling] Where the bloody hell am I?!
Richie: No Eddie, calm down, you're in a tent... you're in a tent.
[worried] Listen, Eddie, I think there's something outside.
Eddie: Yeah, well there's bound to be something outside, Richie. You
can't expect the universe and its entire contents to be contained
within the confines of a small canvas tent.
Richie: You're very philosophical for this time of night, Eddie.
Eddie: Yeah, well I've had half a bottle of Scotch, what do you expect?
Richie: No, listen! [owl hoots again] No, Eddie, I'm serious. I'm
getting a sense of something magnificently evil, black, and foul
hanging in the air waiting to destroy us.
Eddie: Yeah, that'll be the fish repeating on you. [owl hoots]
Richie: There it is again... what do you think it is? A wolf? A bear?
Eddie: Oooh -- Wombles!
Richie: [alarmed] Wombles! Oh, oh-oh-oh, oo-ooh, oh, look, Eddie, Eddie,
why don't we bring the fire inside the tent to ward them off?
Eddie: Well that'd be a bit dangerous, wouldn't it?
Richie: No, it's gone out.
Eddie: Well what's the point then?
Richie: Eh--oh... oh yes, silly me!
Eddie: Hey, yayayayaya -- why don't we light a small fire inside the
tent?
Richie: All right, just a small one.
Eddie: Oh, you know me. A tiny itsy bitsy teeny one.
Richie: Good old Eddie.
Eddie: Now, where's the paraffin? Ahhh... here we go. Ahhh... [starts to
drink it]
Richie: No! No, Eddie, don't drink it, we need that!
Eddie: [shakes the paraffin onto the ground] Now, stand well back.
Richie: What do you mean, "stand well back"? I can't get out of this
bloody sleeping bag, can I?
Eddie: [lighter in hand] Here we go.
Richie: No--Eddie, change of plan!
[Exterior shot. Fire bursts out both ends of the tent.]
Richie: [sarcastically] Nice one, Eddie. That should ward 'em off.
[Richie and Eddie's faces are burned and red. There is a rumble of thunder;
a menacing shadow moves across the tent wall.]
Richie: Oh! Eddie! Look! Help me get out of this sleeping bag!
Eddie: There's no time!
[Eddie zips down the tent entrance. The zipper is raised slowly from the
other side. Eddie and Richie cower in abject terror. Our friend, the crazy
flasher, now totally nude, thrusts his love spuds into the tent, laughing
hysterically. Eddie and Richie scream. A lot. Eddie zips down the tent
forcefully. The flasher runs off screaming, dragging the tent with him.
Richie and Eddie are left in the rain.]
Eddie: [understated] Right, well, that's about it for me. I'm off.
[Richie tries to inch after him like a worm in his sleeping bag.]
Eddie: What, are you not coming?
Richie: Well I can't, I can't move, can I?
Eddie: Now that's a point. [picks up the mallet ]
Richie: Eddie, no!
[Eddie whacks him; he falls over. Roll credits.]
