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CABINE PRESSURE

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CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 8:56 am

He visto que no había ningún hilo abierto para Cabine Pressure, una comedia radiofónica escrita por John Finnemore y protagonizada por el mismo (Arthur), Stephanie Cole (Carolyn Knapp-Shappey), Roger Allan (Douglas Richardson) y por supuesto nuestro Benny (Martin Crief)

A mi personalmente me encanta, así que he pensado que se merecía un huequito aquí.

Colgaré enlaces para descargar los episodios y la transcripción de cada uno para que sea más fácil seguirlos, aunque tratándose de un programa de radio la dicción es estupenda y se siguen fácilmente.

INDICE:

Serie 1:
Episodio 1: Abu Dhabi
Episodio 2: Boston
Episodio 3: Cremona
Episodio 4: Douz
Episodio 5: Edinburgh
Episodio 6: Fitton

Serie 2:
Episodio 1: Helsinki
Episodio 2: Gdansk
Episodio 3: Ipswich
Episodio 4: Johannesburg (Hacen una parada en España)
Episodio 5: Kuala Lumpur
Episodio 6: Limerick

Episodio Especial Navidad

Serie 3:
Episodio 1 Qikiqtarjuaq (Escuchar a Ben hablando inglés con acento francés no tiene precio, absolutamente para comérselo lol! lol! )
Episodio 2: Paris
Episodio 3: Newcastle
Episodio 4: Ottery St. Mary
Episodio 5: Rotterdam
Episodio 6: St. Petersburg

Serie 4:
Episodio 1: Timbuctú
Episodio 2: Uskerty
Episodio 3: Vaduz


Serie 1:

[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]


Cabin Pressure Series 1, Episode 1 – Abu Dhabi
(Bing-Bong)


DOUGLAS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, First Officer Douglas Richardson here. Just to let you know, we're making our final approach now into what I am fairly sure is Fitton airfield..unless it's a farm..or just possibly the A45. It's not the sea, because that's blue. I should perhaps explain that Captain Crieff and I have a sportsman-like little bet on today about who can fly the best after drinking a litre of Vodka through a straw. The Captain went first. You may have noticed the takeoff run was a little bumpy, particularly over the golf course. Now it's me to land, just as soon as I decide, which of these two runaways to aim for. And I'm happy to tell you that I feel lucky. So on behalf of all your crew today, may I just say, geronimo!


Opening Credit (by BC) - This week, Abu Dhabi!


MARTIN: Blessed.
DOUGLAS: Ah, yes, of course. May!
MARTIN: Hmm, yup. Cant!
ARTHUR: Here we are, gents. Coffee with nothing in it. Tea with everything in it. Great cabin address, Douglas? I love cargo flights.
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Arthur.
MARTIN: Ooh, Eno?
DOUGLAS: Ooh, Eno?
MARTIN: Ooh, Eno.
DOUGLAS: Ah..yes! Sewell.
ARTHUR: Oh, what are we playing?
MARTIN: Brians of Britain.
ARTHUR: Then there must be loads of them! Uh, um..
DOUGLAS: Well, not to worry, as they come to you.
ARTHUR: Oh, who's that guy? Hm, oh, gray haired, did that game show, "Can I have a P please, Bob?" Uh..what's his name?
DOUGLAS: Your hope being that it was Brian..?
ARTHUR: Yeah, Brian..Uh..Brian..
MARTIN: Bob Holness. It was Bob Holness.
ARTHUR: That's it! Oh..Well, does he count anyway?
DOUGLAS: Does Bob Holness count in our list of people called Brian. What the hell, yes, he does. Well done!


(over the intercom)
Tower: Golf-Tango-India, expect twenty min delay due runway inspection. Enter the hold at arden. Maintain seven thousand feet.
MARTIN: Golf-Tango-India, Roger. Hold at arden. Maintain seven thousand feet. Can you confirm delay only twenty minutes?
Tower: (exhales) Probably..All depends, really.
MARTIN: Thank you, Tower. Hugely informative as ever. Out. (turns off the intercom) Sorry, chaps, looks like we'd better divert to Bristol.
ARTHUR: Bristol? Why?
MARTIN: Fitton's got a runway closure. We'd have to hold for twenty minutes
ARTHUR: But Bristol, that's miles away.
MARTIN: Yes..Luckily enough though, we are in an aeroplane, specially designed to be good at going miles away quite quickly.
ARTHUR: Yeah..But my car's at Fitton.
MARTIN: Oh, well then, let us, by all means, circle round it until we drop out of the sky.
DOUGLAS: Do you know, Martin, all these years and I've never been to Bristol?
MARTIN: We'll get ready for a treat.
DOUGLAS: I don't know. I was rather hoping not to break my duck.
ARTHUR: Skip, are you sure there's not enough fuel to wait, because there's always a little bit left when the guage shows red.
MARTIN: Yes, oddly enough, Arthur, a jet aircraft isn't as precisely similar to a Vauxhall Corsa as a stupid person might imagine. We're going to Bristol.
ARTHUR: What do you reckon, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: We could go to Bristol, I believe. People do. However, we've easily enough fuel spare to hold for twenty minutes, maybe even thirty.
MARTIN: Yeah, I'm sorry, but we are diverting.
ARTHUR: Yeah, hang on a tick though, If Douglas reckons twenty minutes..
MARTIN: No, let's not hang on a tick. Let's listen to the Captain, shall we?
DOUGLAS: Of course, Martin, if you say we divert, then divert we shall.
MARTIN: Thank you.
DOUGLAS: Unless of course we were to smell smoke in the flight deck.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: I'm just saying, if by any remote chance, we smelt smoke in the flight deck, we would of course be duty-bound to land at the nearest available airfield with immediate priority. In this case, by a happy coincidence, Fitton.
MARTIN: Yes, maybe. But I don't smell smoke in the flight deck.
DOUGLAS: (lighting a match) How about now?
MARTIN: What are you suggesting, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: We tell the Tower we smell smoke which we do. We get to land straight away. They check the aircraft. Don't find anything. One of the life's little mysteries, but jolly good boys for taking no chances. Everybody is happy, and there's jam for tea.
ARTHUR: Right. That's, you know, that's really clever.
MARTIN: No! I'm sorry, but absolutely not.
DOUGLAS: I used to do it all the time at Air England.
MARTIN: Well, you're not at Air England now. Where you are now, is in a co-pilot seat, and on the way to Bristol. You'll like it. They have a lovely suspension bridge.
DOUGLAS: Well..Shall I just sat-com Carolyn before we make our final decision. It's rather an expensive diversion.
MARTIN: No! We have made our final decision. I have decided. And as Carolyn knows, whilst in flight, I am supreme commander of this vessel.
DOUGLAS: Golly! Captain Bligh flies again.
MARTIN: Douglas, I am not impressed by your Air England mates. When you are on Captain Bligh's aircraft, you could do it his way. But when you're on mine, you do it mine. Is that understood?
DOUGLAS: Yes.
MARTIN: Yes what?
DOUGLAS: Yes, it is.
MARTIN: Yes, it is what?
DOUGLAS: Yes, it is understood
MARTIN: Yes, it is understood, what?
DOUGLAS: Yes, it is understood, please.
MARTIN: I'm waiting.
DOUGLAS: Martin, you're not seriously asking me to call you Sir?
MARTIN: Yes, I am. Why is that so hard to believe?
DOUGLAS: Well, to select just one reason from the fifteen or sixteen that present themselves, I'm old enough to be your father.
MARTIN: Not unless you started very young.
DOUGLAS: I did.
MARTIN: Right. Well, I think your age and your previous role is giving you a rather skewed view of the chain of authority on this aircraft. Maybe a little observation of the formalities would help remind you which one of us is still the Captain. So--is--that--understood?
DOUGLAS: Yes..(pause) Sir.
MARTIN: Thank you! (flip on the intercom) Fitton approach, Golf-Tango-India, in view of your delay, request diversion to Bristol.



(Sound of a plane flying)
CAROLYN: Martin, you're a berk.
MARTIN: I'm not a berk, Carolyn. I'm an airline captain.
CAROLYN: Wrong on both accounts. You're a colossal berk and you are not an airline captain. I don't have an airline. I have one jet. You cannot put one jet in a line. If MJN is anything, it is an air dot.
MARTIN: Look, I'm sorry, Carolyn, but I can't just magic up extra fuel.
CAROLYN: Yes, and I can't just magic up seven thousand pounds to spend on you taking a scenic tour of the west country. And where were you in all this, Douglas? Don't tell me you voluntarily went to Bristol.
DOUGLAS: I did suggest an alternative plan to Sir, Carolyn. But Sir quite properly reminded me that Sir is in command and we should all obey Sir at all times.
CAROLYN: Who reminded you?
DOUGLAS: Captain Crieff, or as I'm privileged to call him, Sir.
CAROLYN: Martin, you are many things, but believe me, you are not Sir. If anyone is Sir, I am Sir. And as Sir, I'm telling you from now on diversions are out.
MARTIN: I see, so if an engine catches fire on takeoff, shrug shoulders, keep upper lip stiff, and press on for Portugal. Got it!
CAROLYN: All right, biggles, you divert if something goes very, very seriously wrong, and I'm talking, "Oh, dear, surely we had two wings when we started wrong." Otherwise, otherwise you press on like a brave little soldier and you stop treating my company as a bottomless money pit..
MARTIN: That is completely unfair.
CAROLYN: Is that right? I'll tell you what then, why don't you explain to me why you have the cargo hold heated at thirty degrees all trip?
MARTIN: Did we?
CAROLYN: Didn't you even know?
MARTIN: Well, the thermostat's in the hold, you see..
CAROLYN: You are allowed to look in there when you do the walk-around, you know. It's not a secret. Do you know how much it costs to keep a large metal room toasty warm thirty thousand feet up in the air. It is surprisingly pricey. So listen, next Thursday, you are going to Abu Dhabi, and you are going cheap. You will fly the most no-frills, most cost effective plane it is possible to fly. You will make easy jet look like Air Force One. Understood?
MARTIN: Yes, Carolyn.
DOUGLAS: And who are the lucky passengers on Scrooge McDuck Air.
CAROLYN: No passengers. Some oil exec has moved out there, and we're bringing them everything he owns, furniture, clothes, carpets, cat, the lot.
MARTIN: All right, what time's the pickup?
CAROLYN: There's not going to be, a pick-up.
MARTIN: What?
CAROLYN: Well you remember that thing I said fifteen seconds ago about no frills? Well, astonishingly that's still in effect. There will be no taxies. You'll get to my house at 6:30 and I'll drive you.
MARTIN: No! No, no, no, no! I'm sorry, Carolyn. You simply can't treat us like this.
CAROLYN: Fine, then do by all means, feel free to resign, Martin, and take a job with one of the many companies eager to sign up the only commercial pilot in the skies who took seven goes to get his licence.
MARTIN: Look, Carolyn, you cannot penalise me for taking a rational command decision based on reasonable air safety concerns.
CAROLYN: Yes, I can.
MARTIN: Well, technically you can, but..
CAROLYN: Good! Then technically I will. Now please, go and be somewhere else.
DOUGLAS: Well done, Sir. That's her told.


(Carolyn is washing her dog in the bath room)
ARTHUR: (knocks at the door) Morning, Mum. Can I come in?
CAROLYN: Do you have coffee?
ARTHUR: (answers outside the door) Yes.
CAROLYN: Can I have the coffee without talking to you?
ARTHUR: (answers outside the door) Not really.
CAROLYN: (sighs) Oh, come in then.
ARTHUR: Here you go (passes over the coffee). Do you need a hand?
CAROLYN: Yes, pass me the shampoo and catch hold of this. All right, good girl..(dog barking) Oh..Who's going to be a lovely clean doggy!
ARTHUR: You know the chaps'll be here soon, don't you?
CAROLYN: What time is it?
ARTHUR: 6:15. Oh, damn.
CAROLYN: What?
ARTHUR: I'm trying to train myself always to talk in 24 hour clock like Martin. But I keep forgetting.
CAROLYN: What should you have said?
ARTHUR: Well, 6:15. But not the 6:15 I was thinking of. You see, I was thinking of one there's two of. But when you do it right, there should only be one. And what I was..
CAROLYN: Arthur..Arthur, Arthur, light of my life. Do please shut up.
ARTHUR: Right. Yes, sorry, sorry..Mum, I'm just so excited about that trip.
CAROLYN: Arthur, you've been on hundreds of trips. Hasn't that novelty worn off a little?
ARTHUR: No, never! It's just always exciting. That amazing moment when twelve tons of metal leaves the earth, and no one knows why.
CAROLYN: Yes, we do.
ARTHUR: Yeah, but, you know..Not really. I mean, we know you need wings and engines and.. a sticky up bit on the end for some reason. But it's not like we actually know why a plane stays in the air.
CAROLYN: No! No, Arthur, we really do. We, we do. We do know that.
ARTHUR: Oh, how then?
CAROLYN: Well! Er, because..will you give me that towel? Yup, okay, okay, good doggy, keep still (the dog whimpers and struggles). Hmm, because, there're four forces acting on the plane, and so long as two of them are bigger than the other two, the plane flies.
ARTHUR: Mum, I don't mind that no one knows.
CAROLYN: But we do! We do! That's it, what I said. That's how.
ARTHUR: Well, what are the four forces then?
CAROLYN: Yes! Well, I will tell you what they are, lift, weight, er..
ARTHUR: Up and down?
CAROLYN: No, no, no, no, no..Those, those, those are up and down. No, it's lift, weight..
ARTHUR: Left and right?
CAROLYN: No, no, no, no..Lift, weight..
ARTHUR: Engines?
CAROLYN: No, no..Well, yes, yes, yes..sort of. Um, thrust, thrust..Lift, weight, thrust, and..
ARTHUR: Time?!
CAROLYN: Drag! Lift, weight, thrust and drag. So the weight and dr'g are overcome, because the engines give the plane thrust and the wings give it lift. And that’s--how--a--plane--flies.
ARTHUR: How do the wings give it lift?
CAROLYN: What?
ARTHUR: The wings are really heavy. How does bolting two ginormous lumps of metal to a ginormous lump of metal give it lift?
CAROLYN: Oh, because they are wings. They're like birds' wings.
ARTHUR: Yeah, but birds' wings flap. Ours don't flap. They've got flaps, but I once watched the flaps, all the way to Stockholm. And take it from me, they're seriously misnamed. So, so why does having wings make the plane leave the runway?
CAROLYN: (not knowing how to answer, and the door bell rings) Ah..They're here. Now go and wait in the car with them. I need to clean my teeth.
ARTHUR: Yeah, but how do the wings..
CAROLYN: Answer the door!
ARTHUR: Okay, I'm going. I'm going. (slams the door)
CAROLYN: (the dog whimpers) There we are. Snoopadoo, who's a lovely clean girl. Hoho, go free. (The dog runs away.)


ARTHUR: (opens the door) Hi, there, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Morning, Arthur. You are revoltingly chirpy for half six in the morning. Where's your mother?
ARTHUR: She's just brushing her teeth. She says to wait for her in the car. (opens the car door) Uh, where's Martin?
DOUGLAS: Who can predict the movements of the supreme commander? Perhaps God wanted to pick his brains about something.
ARTHUR: How do you mean?
DOUGLAS: Never mind. Ah, what's this. (Martin approaches) Who is this commanding presence hoving into view? Can it be Sir? It can.
MARTIN: Morning..(not cheerfully)
DOUGLAS: Greetings, oh, Sir.
MARTIN: Don't call me Sir, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Sir's mind is fickle and changeable. I shall endeavor to remember, Sir, but from time to time, my natural awe at the majestic figure cut by Sir may bubble up, uncontrollably here. And..
MARTIN: Thank you, Douglas. Truly you're an hilarious pilot. Where's Carolyn?
DOUGLAS: Sharpening her teeth.
ARTHUR: Brushing.
DOUGLAS: Brushing her teeth. Yes, sorry. Well, in you get then, Sir of Sirs. You are letting the cold in.
MARTIN: I can't. You are in my seat.
DOUGLAS: Your seat? You have a seat?
MARTIN: Yes.
DOUGLAS: In Carolyn's car?
MARTIN: The front seat is my seat.
DOUGLAS: What? Did you call shot gun?
MARTIN: Didn't need to call a shot gun. Im the Captain.
DOUGLAS: The Captain gets the front seat in the aircraft, Martin, because he's driving it, not in any vehicle he happens to be in.
MARTIN: I always sit in the front seat in a taxi.
DOUGLAS: Only because the taxi goes to your house first. This time I got here first and so here I am, voila.
ARTHUR: Tell you what, if it makes it easier, I can go in the front.
DOUGLAS & MARTIN: Shut up, Arthur.
ARTHUR: Right.
MARTIN: Douglas, I've got to do the briefing. How am I supposed to give the briefing from the back seat?
DOUGLAS: I'll still be able to hear you. I'll be in the same car, and everything. And, my legs are longer, yards longer.
MARTIN: But, I don't..
DOUGLAS: Oh, all right, I'll toss you for it.
MARTIN: Hey, no, that's not fair. You know about me and coin tosses.
DOUGLAS: Heads or tails?
MARTIN: Oh, bloody hell, tails then.
DOUGLAS: (toss a coin) Oh, that's odd.
MARTIN: Did I win?
DOUGLAS: (Sighs) Uh..
MARTIN: Did I actually win? That never happens. That's the first time in a run of about five hundred.
DOUGLAS: Oh, just get on with it.
MARTIN: (changes the seat and enjoys) Oh, now, that is nice. Comfy. Ah..Now, listen up, chaps, here is the briefing, fairly straightforward. Weather is good . Clear skies expected in Abu Dhabi. Our alternate is Dubai. I'll operate out. Douglas, you'll operate back. Trust that's all clear?
DOUGLAS: Aye, aye, Captain Ahab.
MARTIN: I Suppose he's a friend of Captain bligh's, is he?
DOUGLAS: The three of you should go for a drink sometime.


(Carolyn comes and enters the car.)
CAROLYN: Ok, team useless. We're late.
MARTIN: But, that' because you were..
CAROLYN: Shut up and listen, here's your briefing. Douglas will operate out, Martin back. Clear skies at Abu Dhabi. Your alternate is Bahrain.
MARTIN: Carolyn, I've already done..
CAROLYN: No, really, shut up and listen. Alternate Bahrain, but of course you don’t need an alternate. Because today is the day we try running MJN as a profitable business, rather than a charitable sanctuary for rubbish pilots. Oh, no, wait, wait, wait a minute. Martin, swap seats with Douglas.
MARTIN: What?
CAROLYN: He's too tall. I can't see out of the back window. Now, come on, chop, chop!
MARTIN: I don't believe..
CAROLYN: I'm going to count to one..One!
(The two swap the seats)

DOUGLAS: Look at all this lot, carpets, vases and a storage heater.
MARTIN: Why would he want a storage heater in Abu Dhabi?
DOUGLAS: Well, there is a lot of heat to store
MARTIN: Right, we're done. Arthur, we're done.
ARTHUR: Coming, Skipper (outside the door).
MARTIN: What are you doing back there?
ARTHUR: Trying to soothe the cat. (sound of cat miaowing, screaming and biting) Ah..
MARTIN: God! What happened?
ARTHUR: I..failed.
DOUGLAS: Good heavens, are you all right?
ARTHUR: I think so. He's sweet, really. He was just playing.
MARTIN: At what, being a leopard?
DOUGLAS: I wouldn't have thought he could get his paws through the bars?
ARTHUR: Nor did I. He really can, though.
MARTIN: Do you want to go and sew yourself back together?
ARTHUR: No, I'm fine. Ish, are, are we done?
DOUGLAS: It seems so. And now it's back to the boring old plane flying.
ARTHUR: Oh, yes, about that, um, I wanted to ask you something, Skipper. Mum was telling me this morning the planes fly because they've got wings.
DOUGLAS: Is there anything that woman doesn't know?
ARTHUR: But she didn't really explain, why the wings lift us up.
DOUGLAS: Ah, well, essentially..
MARTIN: Uh, Douglas, he asked me. Listen carefully, Arthur. The wing is curved on top but flat on the bottom. When it meets the air, its split in two. The air that goes over the top has further to go, so it has to go faster to keep up with the air underneath, that reduces pressures above the wing, giving us a lift.
ARTHUR: Ah, fantastic! Thanks, Skipper. I, I totally get it now.
MARTIN: You are welcome.
ARTHUR: Except, why does it have to?
MARTIN: Why does it what what?
ARTHUR: Why does the air on the top have to keep up the air at the bottom? Why don't they just..split up?
DOUGLAS: For the sake of the kids?





MARTIN: Fuel system checked?
DOUGLAS: Checked.
MARTIN:Hydraulics checked?
DOUGLAS: Checked.
MARTIN: Transponder checked?
DOUGLAS: Like a picnic table cloth.
MARTIN: In general plane not broken?
DOUGLAS: The plane is, so far as one can tell, not broken.
MARTIN: Great. I'll go and do the walk-around then.
DOUGLAS: Not forgetting of course to check that the cargo hold temperature..
MARTIN: No, obviously not forgetting that. Douglas, do I have to remind you again who's in command?
DOUGLAS: Could it by any chance be you, Captain Queeg.
MARTIN: Queeg? You're just making them up now?
(The plane starts.)


TOWER: Bonjour, Golf-Tango-India, maintain 340 direction.
DOUGLAS: Mais oui, mon ami (French). Out. (flips off the intercom)
MARTIN: Post takeoff checks complete, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Captain Perkins.
MARTIN: Oh, knock it off, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Knock what off?
MARTIN: Yes, all right, I've never heard of Captain Perkins. Happy now? You win again in the game of referencing fictional captains I don't recognize. But do you know, that's because instead of reading the adventures of Captain Perkings in my Punt At Eton college Oxford. I was re-reading Principles of Climatology for pilots and underlining bits in red. All right?
DOUGLAS: All right. Feel better?
MARTIN: Yes.
DOUGLAS: Good. I said, thank you Captain Perkins, Brian Perkins.
MARTIN: Oh, right..Hanrahan.


ARTHUR: Lunch is served, gents.
DOUGLAS: Ah, excellent. What have we today?
ARTHUR: Oh, heaps of deliciousness. I spent hours on it.
MARTIN: Arthur, I very much hope that you mean by that you spent hours removing the lids from our delicious catered food.
DOUGLAS: Which to be fair, w're perfectly prepared to imagine of you.
ARTHUR: Okay, uh, you see, the caterers were one of the things Mum thought we could tighten our belt around. She thought that, with me not having terribly much to do on cargo flights, I could try my hand at doing the meals.
MARTIN: Did she?! Did she really? And what have you prepared?
ARTHUR: Well, uh, two separate meals as per. For someone, this..(takes off the lids)
MARTIN: My God!
ARTHUR: I call it my orange platter.
DOUGLAS: Really? I wonder why.
ARTHUR: Oh, because everything in it..
DOUGLAS: Yes..Arthur, I can see why.
MARTIN: What makes the mashed potato orange?
ARTHUR: Cooking it in the same saucepan I used to curry the baked beans.
MARTIN: And the other option?
ARTHUR: Aha, my signature dish. Behold! Surprising rice.
DOUGLAS: Good lord!
MARTIN: What're..those bits?
ARTHUR: Ah, you see, Skipper, if you don't mind me saying so, that question is entirely against the spirit of surprising rice.
DOUGLAS: Arthur, you are aware the point of giving us separate meals is so that we can't both get food poisoning? There's really not much point if you're just going to poison us in two different ways.
ARTHUR: Oh, come on, chaps. I tried my hardest, you know.
MARTIN: That's what we're afraid of. Arthur, sorry, but please take these away, humanely destroy them, and see if there's any edible on the plane. Douglas, sat-com please. (talks over the intercom) Carolyn, what the hell are you trying to do?
CAROLYN: What's the matter? Has Arthur told you about the accommodation already. I told him to wait until you landed.
MARTIN: What? No! What about the accommodation?
CAROLYN: Oh! Nothing, nothing. You'll love it. It has olde worlde Bedouin charm. What did you want then?
MARTIN: The food, Carolyn! We're skilled professionals, doing a difficult and dangerous job. We need proper catering.
CAROLYN: Skilled professionals don't go to Bristol. Ask anyone. Skilled professionals don't forget to check the cargo-hold heating. Speaking of which, did you check it?
MARTIN: Yes. Yes, of course I did. How can I forget with everyone reminding me twice a minute. I checked it before the walk-around and I checked it the after walk around. And it was definitely, definitely off.
DOUGLAS: On.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Sir means on. Naturally, it was on. Whoops, must go now, Carolyn. Here comes a mountain, cheerio! (flips off the intercom)


MARTIN: Douglas, is this some half baked revenge attempt? Because if so, it's really pointless. What would she believe I deliberately turned it on?
DOUGLAS: Why indeed? But I have the sort of feeling you might hope she did, what with the cat in the hold. And all?
MARTIN: Oh, God.
DOUGLAS: Precisely, I did try to remind you.
MARTIN: Oh, God.
DOUGLAS: Yes.
MARTIN: Do you think it's dead?
DOUGLAS: No, no, definitely not. Not yet.
MARTIN: Oh, God!
DOUGLAS: Probably feeling the chill though.
MARTIN: What flight time have you got?
DOUGLAS: A little under eight hours.
MARTIN: (sighs) How long can a cat survive, in an unheated hold at thirty-four thousand feet?
DOUGLAS: Oh, I used to know this one. It's always coming up at pub quizzes.
MARTIN: Yes, all right.
DOUGLAS: Now then, is it 3 hours and 28 seconds or is that a weasel in the submarine?
MARTIN: You don't know?
DOUGLAS: I regret not, but I wouldn't hold on too much to hope for the answer being eight hours?
MARTIN: Oh, God! I'm going to have to kill--the--client's--cat.
DOUGLAS: It's looking that way.
MARTIN: I can't kill the clien's cat.
DOUGLAS: That's also true.
MARTIN: What else can I do?
DOUGLAS: I suppose you could always..
MARTIN: I can't! I can't divert. She'll hunt me down. She'll actually hunt me down with knives?
DOUGLAS: Whereas if we carry on and freeze the client's cat to death.
MARTIN: Also knives. Big knives. If we, if we did carry on and the cat didn’t make it, do you think they’d be able to tell how it died?
DOUGLAS: Again I fear you flatter my knowledge of cat pathology.
MARTIN: Well, I don't see how they could. I mean, it's not as if it's gonna freeze into a block of ice, is it?
DOUGLAS: Not unless it's a cartoon cat. No.
MARTIN: I mean, it's not as if the cat CSI is going to descend on us.
DOUGLAS: I wouldn't have thought so. They're so busy these days.
MARTIN: I mean, I know it's a bit rotten, for the cat, but ten thousand pounds to divert is quite a lot, isn't it?
DOUGLAS: A fair bet, and Carolyn?
MARTIN: And knives. Yes, so, what do you think? Is that reasonable? That's reasonable, isn't it? Isn't it?
DOUGLAS: It's a command decision, Sir. All yours.


(Arthur opens the door and enters.)
ARTHUR: Right, I found some biscuits and some strepsils. Who wants what?
DOUGLAS: I think we can probably risk both having the biscuits.
ARTHUR: Skipper, are you all right?
MARTIN: Yes..
ARTHUR: Are you sure? You are sort of gray colour. And you didn't even try the surprising rice.
MARTIN: I'm fine.
ARTHUR: No, really. Is there something..
DOUGLAS: Arthur, you were asking why the air over the wind has to keep up with the air underneath..
ARTHUR: Oh, yes, do you know?
DOUGLAS: Indeed, I do. Attend. The air is not passing over the wing. The wing is passing through the air. So the curved upper side stretches the air forced over it apart, reducing pressure, producing lift. The lift pushes up. The weight pushes down. So as long as the lift is more than the weight, up we go and that, my friend, is how an aeroplane flies.
ARTHUR: Got it! Right. Yes. Cracking. I completely get it now.
DOUGLAS: Good. You see, is that quite easy to grasp when it's explained properly by someone who understands..
ARTHUR: So that's why planes can't fly upside and down?
DOUGLAS: Uh..Yes, they can.
ARTHUR: Can they?
DOUGLAS: Well, of course they can. Haven't you seen the Red Arrows?
ARTHUR: But doesn't that mean the curved side of the wing is on the bottom? So the lift is pushing down as well as the weight. How does that work?
MARTIN: Yes, Douglas. How does that work?
DOUGLAS: Well, Arthur, there's a very simple explanation. But just to finish what we were saying, Martin, I think it's entirely up to you whether you let the cat in the hold freezed to death.
ARTHUR: What?!
MARTIN: Douglas!
ARTHUR: Skipper!
DOUGLAS: No one wants to hear the explanation. What a shame!


ARTHUR: Why?! Why would you do that?
MARTIN: I'm not doing it on purpose, Arthur!
ARTHUR: Then why are you doing it at all?
MARTIN: Seems the cargo hold heating may not have been turned on.
DOUGLAS: Masterly use of the passive voice.
ARTHUR: But, Skipper, it's really cold as high up as this.
MARTIN: Yes, thank you, Professor Science.
ARTHUR: So we should turn the heating on.
MARTIN: Yes, okay, good idea. You could do it. Just climb out over the wing and wrench open the hold door, swing yourself in and adjust the thermostat.
ARTHUR: Okay, how will I..
MARTIN: Not really!
ARTHUR: Oh, oh, I've got an idea. We could divert. If we landed now, the cat might be okay.
DOUGLAS: Well done, Arthur! Why didn't we think of that, Martin?
MARTIN: Arthur, I know he's a lovely cat. But it, it costs thousands and thousands of pounds to divert. You remember your mother and her thoughts about that?
ARTHUR: Right. Yes. But, you know, i's just a sweet little pussy cat..
MARTIN: It's not. I's a crazy psycho-cat. Look at yourself, Arthur. You have open wounds.
ARTHUR: Yeah, I, I suppose so. But, it's going to get really cold,
MARTIN: (Sighs) Uh..
ARTHUR: And, you know..Die.
MARTIN: So, you want me to divert? Is that it? You want me to ditch in Nowheresville Normandy? You want me to tell Carolyn I do have the absolute cast iron excuse she demanded for diverting and it goes Miaow.
ARTHUR: Yes, please.
MARTIN: All right, fine. Fine! All right. It's only a job. There'll be other jobs. (flips on the intercom) France control, this is Golf-Tango-India. Request immediate diversion to nearest airfield.
France Control: Roger, Golf-Tango-India. Do you have an emergency?
MARTIN: Well, uh..(sighs) We've got..
DOUGLAS: One moment, please, Tower.
MARTIN: What is it, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Captain..(lights a match) I do believe I can smell smoke in the flight deck. Can you smell smoke in the flight deck, Captain?
MARTIN: Yes..Yes, I can, Douglas. Could you request an immediate diversion, please?
DOUGLAS: Certainly, Sir.


Closing Credit


Última edición por Darsel el Sáb Oct 13, 2012 10:54 am, editado 4 veces
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:01 am

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CABIN PRESSURE 1x02 BOSTON

------

CAROLYN: Your seatbelt fastens like this. And unfastens like this. An invaluable lesson there for any of you who have never been in a car. In the very unlikely event of an emergency landing, your inflatable safety jacket is under your seat, and that is precisely where I recommend it stay, given that the largest body of water between here and Luton is a open-air swimming pool in Daventry. Finally, please keep your mobile phones switched off for the duration of the flight. Obviously, they have no effect whatsoever on our navigational equipment or we wouldn’t let you have them, but they drive me up the wall. Thank you, and enjoy your flight.

------

[Opening Credits]

“This week: Boston!”

------

MARTIN: Fitton approach. This is Golf Echo Romeo Tango India, climbing to six thousand feet, left turn, direct Luton.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Okey dokey, have fun.

MARTIN: Carl.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Roger, Golf Tango India.

MARTIN: Thank you.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: You’re welcome. Don’t fly into anything I wouldn’t fly into.

DOUGLAS: Post take-off checks complete.

MARTIN: Thank you, Douglas. Could you balance the fuel please?

[Silence]

MARTIN: Douglas, the fuel.

DOUGLAS: Sorry, Captain, can’t help you.

MARTIN: [sighs] Simon says, ‘could you balance the fuel?’

DOUGLAS: By all means. You know, you can give up anytime you like. It’s been six trips.

MARTIN: No, I can get you. Besides, I want another go. I know I can do better than last time.

DOUGLAS: What, even better than, “Shall we play Simon Says, Martin? Okay, I’ll go first, Douglas. Tell me when you’re ready, Martin. I’m ready, Douglas – ugh.” I don’t know, Martin, you’ve set the bar punishingly high.

[Door opens]

CAROLYN: Ah, gentlemen.

MARTIN: Oh, dear.

CAROLYN: What?

MARTIN: It’s always trouble when we’re gentlemen. I prefer it when we’re imbeciles.

DOUGLAS: Or dolts.

MARTIN: ‘Dolts’ is good, yes.

CAROLYN: No, this is good news. I have another job for you.

MARTIN: We’ve already got another job this week.

CAROLYN: Indeed you have. So stand by for another ‘nother job. The fine people at Algonquin Charter Air have excellently grounded a Gulfstream at Luton, which leaves them with a whole parcel of cross Americans who aren’t in America, but would like to be. And guess who’s making their dream come true? Our very own selves.

MARTIN: We can’t do it.

CAROLYN: We can do it, we will do it, and we are doing it. Does that answer your question?

MARTIN: It wasn’t a question, Carolyn. It was a statement. The Istanbul trip is Thursday night.

CAROLYN: I know. We get back Thursday morning.

MARTIN: But we have to have twelve hours’ rest between trips.

CAROLYN: I know. Because you are lazy, lazy pilots. So, we get to Boston Wednesday morning, twelve hours break. Fly home Wednesday evening, arrive Thursday morning, twelve hours break. Off to Istanbul. Perfect.

MARTIN: But – I’ve got my easyJet interview on Wednesday afternoon.

DOUGLAS: Ah well, easyJet, easy go.

CAROLYN: You can still do that. I don’t care what you do in your twelve hours. You can sleep or try to sneak away from my company like a sniveling rat. It’s all the same to me.

MARTIN: Douglas, help me out here.

DOUGLAS: Aw, nice try.

MARTIN: Damn!

CAROLYN: Please tell me you’re not still playing Simon Says.

DOUGLAS: I’m afraid I can’t do that – for two reasons.

------

[Passengers murmuring]

ARTHUR: Good evening, sir. Welcome aboard today. Good evening, madam. Welcome also to you today onboard. Good evening, sir. Welcome to being onboard to you today. Oh, er, sir? Excuse me?

PASSENGER: Yeah? What?

ARTHUR: May I inform yourself that MJN does run a fully comprehensive non-smoking service, and as such result of this, all cigarettes, cigars, and cigarillos must be extinguished upon embarkation and retained in a state of extinguishment until termination of disembarkation. Thank yourself for your cooperation.

PASSENGER: I’m not cooperating.

ARTHUR: [pause] No, not yet. But… I’m sure you’re going to in a minute. And then… thank you.

PASSENGER: Do you know how much I paid to be on this flight today?

ARTHUR: Oh, I bet it was loads.

PASSENGER: Yeah, good guess, it was loads. It was so much that it seems to me that uh [inhales] I can pretty much smoke where I like, okay?

ARTHUR: But – it – it’s very dangerous to smoke on an aeroplane.

PASSENGER: No, it’s not.

ARTHUR: [pause] I don’t know what to say now.

PASSENGER: How old are you, sonny?

ARTHUR: Twenty-eight-and-a-half.

PASSENGER: Well, I was smoking on airplanes for twenty years before you were born. Why do you think the ‘No Smoking’ signs go on and off?

ARTHUR: Actually, ours don’t mostly. Although one of them flickers. And there’s one we can’t turn on at all because it makes the cabin smell of fish.

PASSENGER: Well, that sure gives me confidence. So, uh, [inhales] we’re all done here, right?

ARTHUR: Yep.

PASSENGER: And I can smoke.

ARTHUR: Er –

CAROLYN: Hello. Welcome on board. It’s my pleasure to serve you today. Please do let me know or a member of my team know if we can help you at any time, such as, for instance, by extinguishing that cigarette for you.

[Cigarette fizzles]

PASSENGER: Hey!

CAROLYN: Oh, dear. Arthur, get this gentlemen a fresh glass of wine please. This one seems to be a bit [chuckles] cigarette-y. Thank you so very much and please do enjoy the rest of your flight.

------

[On the flight deck]

MARTIN: Douglas, could you give me the fuel check at the last way point?

[Silence]

MARTIN: Simon says, ‘give me the fuel check at the last way point.’

DOUGLAS: Certainly. Ten minutes early and seven hundred kilos up on flight plan.

MARTIN: Nearly got you though, didn’t I?

DOUGLAS: No.

[Alarm beeps]

DOUGLAS: Ah, here we go again. Let’s see what vital part’s fallen off the old girl this time. Ah!

MARTIN: What is it?

DOUGLAS: Shall I tell you an interesting thing about this thin metal tube full of petrol we’re flying hundreds of miles above the Atlantic Ocean?

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: It’s on fire.

MARTIN: Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Master caution fire, Captain. Smoke detector, passenger loo.

MARTIN: Ah. [ding] Carolyn, we’ve got a –

CAROLYN: Yes, I know, I know. Keep your goggles on. It’s just stroppy Mr. Lehman in 3B. Hang on.

------

[CAROLYN knocks on the door of the loo]

PASSENGER: It’s taken!

CAROLYN: Sir, please extinguish your cigarette, take the paper cup off the smoke alarm, make a mental note that that trick never works, and return to your seat.

PASSENGER: Nope!

------

[Door opens]

CAROLYN: Martin, give Douglas your hat.

[Pause]

CAROLYN: Do it.

MARTIN: You didn’t say ‘Simon says.’

CAROLYN: I am not playing your game. The man in the loo refuses to come out, so give Douglas your hat.

MARTIN: I’m sure to you those two sentences follow another naturally, but I don’t quite see the logi –

CAROLYN: I don’t need you to see. I need you to give Douglas your hat.

MARTIN: I don’t want to give him my hat.

DOUGLAS: If it helps, I don’t want to take his hat.

CAROLYN: Oh, for goodness’ sakes! Why don’t people just blindly obey anymore? He needs your hat because I want the captain to go down there and strike terror into his heart.

MARTIN: But I’m the captain!

CAROLYN: I am only too painfully aware that you are the captain, Martin. But Douglas actually looks and sounds like a captain. You’re not going to strike terror into anyone’s heart. Unless you chat them up in a bar.

MARTIN: Right. Well, let’s just see about that, shall we?

------

MARTIN: Mr. Lehman?

MR. LEHMAN: Yuuup?

MARTIN: I notice you’re no longer in the toilet cubicle, sir.

MR. LEHMAN: Aw, I bet the guys call you ‘Captain Hawkeye!’

MARTIN: Are you aware that ten minutes ago I was on the point of aborting the flight?

MR. LEHMAN: Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Looks wet down there.

MARTIN: Because, sir, I was under the impression that the aircraft was on fire.

MR. LEHMAN: No, it was just me [inhales] smokin’.

MARTIN: Yes, I know.

MR. LEHMAN: Right, so you weren’t on the point of aborting anything now, were you?

MARTIN: Sir, as the commander of this vessel, I must demand –

MR. LEHMAN: Okay, that’s about enough. What are you gonna do, Commander? Have me arrested? No. And I’ll tell you why not. Because your tin pot, little one-airplane outfit needs me and my business about a zillion times more than I need you. You think you can scare me by marching down here in your Fisher Price, when-I-grow-up-I-want-to-be-a-pilot costume? Give me a break! You’re not the commander of anything! You’re a little guy who can’t get a game with the big boys and wears a uniform like a rear admiral’s to make up for the fact that he’s basically just a flying cabbie! Am I right?

MARTIN: NO! No! You’re not right! You’re – a very rude man! You can’t speak to me like that. I’m the captain!

MR. LEHMAN: Okay, Captain. You run along now and uh [inhales] try not to cry into any important equipment.

MARTIN: [tearfully] I’m not crying! Your smoke got in my eyes.

------

[Door opens]

DOUGLAS: How did it go?

MARTIN: Fine! Fine! Fine! Fine! Fine! ...Arthur?

DOUGLAS: Well, anything you say five times is obviously true.

ARTHUR: Yes, Skipper?

MARTIN: Right, right. Arthur, did you see me inform Mr. Lehman about our non-smoking policy?

ARTHUR: Er. Well, I wasn’t – I wasn’t really looking. I mean… I certainly didn’t notice if he made you cry. Or not. I mean, he probably didn’t.

MARTIN: I was not crying. His smoke got in my eyes.

DOUGLAS: [singing] Smoke gets in your eyes…

MARTIN: Shut up, Douglas! Now, Arthur, we’ve already had one fire scare on this trip; we can’t afford to take chances, and since we know that Mr. Lehman has been fully informed of the policy and therefore certainly won’t be smoking in the loo again –

ARTHUR: Actually, I think he might.

MARTIN: No, Arthur, he won’t.

ARTHUR: Mm. The thing is though, Skip, with all due respect, but what I’ve got that you haven’t is that Mum sent me on a course on understanding people in Ipswich.

MARTIN: And if I ever want the people of Ipswich understood, you’ll be the first person I call. Meanwhile –

ARTHUR: Yeah, yeah, but it means I can now read people. You know? Like a book.

DOUGLAS: Have you ever read a book, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Yes, actually! White Fang! Twice! Anyway, bringing my people reading skills to the table, I’m able to reveal to you now that Mr. Lehman didn’t show any of the five indicators of true resolve to change his behavior patterns, and therefore, in a nutshell, I reckon he might smoke in the loo again.

MARTIN: Listen carefully, Arthur, he definitely won’t. And therefore, if the smoke alarm does go off again, it can only be a real fire. And so I’m authorizing you, in that unlikely event, not to waste time knocking, just to override the door lock and immediately discharge the fire extinguisher into any flame you see.

ARTHUR: Ahhh, any flame I see.

MARTIN: That’s right. Even if it’s just a little tiny, glow-y one.

ARTHUR: Aye, aye, Skipper.

------

ARTHUR: [whispers] Okay, he’s up.

[MR. LEHMAN humming]

ARTHUR: He’s on the move.

[Door opens and closes as MR. LEHMAN enters loo]

ARTHUR: Okay, he’s in.

MARTIN: Okay, Arthur, standby.

ARTHUR: Okay.

MARTIN: Standby.

[Alarm beeps]

MARTIN: [very fake] Oh, no! Emergency! Emergency! The plane is on fire! Arthur, for the love of God, save us all!

ARTHUR: Yes, Skipper!

[Door opens]

MR. LEHMAN: Hey! What the –

ARTHUR: Fiiire!

MR. LEHMAN: Wha – Ahhh! Oh – dahhh! Oh! Oh, God, oh, my chest, oh, ahh –

[Thud heard as MR. LEHMAN collapses]

ARTHUR: Fire’s out.

[Bing-bong]

MARTIN: Good evening. This is Captain Crieff speaking. I’m sorry to have to tell you, a passenger has been taken ill, so if there is anyone with medical training on board, could they please come to the flight deck door. Thank you.

[Door opens]

DOUGLAS: Okay, we’ve moved him to the galley.

MARTIN: How’s he looking?

DOUGLAS: Well, he’s covered in foam and he’s had a heart attack. Otherwise, great.

MARTIN: [sighs] I – I was just thinking, maybe we ought to turn the plane round.

DOUGLAS: Well, yes, of course, we should! Haven’t you done it yet?

MARTIN: Oh, right, right, because on the other hand, obviously, Carolyn’s not going to like it much.

DOUGLAS: Martin, that’s irrelevant. It’s a serious medical emergency. You ditch into the nearest airfield, and we’re what… twenty minutes off midway, so forty minutes closer to home. There’s no question we have to turn round is the decision I imagine you have come to, Captain.

MARTIN: Yes, it is, exactly.

[Beeps]

MARTIN: Shanwick, this is Golf Echo Romeo Tango India. We have a serious passenger medical emergency and wish to return as soon as possible.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Roger, Golf Tango India. Standby. I’ll coordinate.

MARTIN: Okay. Carolyn will understand, won’t she? I mean, a life’s at stake. I’m sure I saw a doctor on the load sheet. Here we are! 7A. Dr. Thomas Price. Where is he?

DOUGLAS: Lying low, I should think.

MARTIN: What? Why?

DOUGLAS: Too scared of being sued.

MARTIN: You’re joking.

DOUGLAS: No. Especially going to America. If he tries to treat him and anything goes wrong, he’s looking at a huge malpractice suit.

MARTIN: But surely no one will sue someone for trying to save their life!

DOUGLAS: Let’s face it. If anyone would, Mr. Lehman would.

MARTIN: Go and have a quick look at him for me, would you?

[Silence]

MARTIN: [sighs] Simon says, ‘go and have a quick look at him for me, would you?’

DOUGLAS: Then Simon shall be obeyed.

[Door closes]

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Golf Tango India, very little traffic on your track this evening. Maintain three-three-zero, turn right to Reykjavik, and when in range, contact Iceland, one-one-eight-decimal-zero-five.

MARTIN: Oh, Reykjavik. Really? I was thinking we could just go back home.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Well, Reykjavik’s much closer. I thought you said it was a medical emergency.

MARTIN: Okay, right, yeah. Roger.

[Bing-bong]

MARTIN: Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Crieff here again. I’m sure you’ll understand that as we have a passenger on board in need of urgent medical attention, we will have to make an unscheduled stop today in, erm, in Reykjavik. I do apologize for the inconvenience. And, once again, if there is a person with medical training on board, please do make yourself known to us. Thank you.

[Bing]

[Door opens]

CAROLYN: Reykjavik!

MARTIN: Carolyn, hello.

CAROLYN: Reykjavik! Reykjavik! REYKJAVIK!

MARTIN: Carolyn, you sound like you’re coughing up a hairball.

CAROLYN: Why in the wide world are we going to Reykjavik?

MARTIN: Because – and I know on a busy flight, you might have missed this – your son hosed a passenger down with a fire extinguisher and gave him a heart attack. So I thought it might be a touching gesture if we tried to get him to a hospital.

CAROLYN: And what’s wrong with the hospitals in Boston?

MARTIN: Nothing’s wrong with them! They’re terribly good! But they’re fifteen hundred miles away.

CAROLYN: But do you have any idea what it’ll cost to land in Iceland? And find everyone accommodation and reroute tomorrow and miss Istanbul?

MARTIN: A man may be dying back there!

CAROLYN: A horrible man.

MARTIN: Carolyn, just because a passenger is rude to you doesn’t mean they deserve to die.

CAROLYN: Okay. Martin, listen. We are almost halfway. Boston can’t be more than what… just… forty minutes further. And putting aside the thousands and thousands of pounds it will cost, look at it from his point of view. He lives in Boston. If we carry on, he goes to hospital in his hometown. His family and his friends are right there –

MARTIN: Friends?

CAROLYN: He’s rich. He’ll have friends. If he goes to some hospital in Iceland, he’ll be alone in a foreign land, his family will have to fly over to be with him – maybe they’ll be too late – all for the sake of forty minutes.

[Beep]

MARTIN: Shanwick, this is Golf Tango India. We wish to cancel our emergency. We’d like to continue to Boston.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Oh, all better now, is he? That’s nice. Roger, Golf Tango India. Route direct to fifty-one North thirty West and resume your previously cleared track.

CAROLYN: Good command decision, Captain. See you later.

[Door opens and closes]

[Bing-bong]

MARTIN: Sorry to disturb you again, ladies and gentlemen. Just to let you know that we will after all be continuing our journey to Boston. And, I repeat, if there’s a doctor on board, and they retain even a hazy memory of their Hippocratic Oath, it would be really super to see them in the galley. Thank you.

DOUGLAS: What are you doing, Martin?

MARTIN: I’m trying to flush out Dr. Price.

DOUGLAS: No. Why are you turning back to Boston?

MARTIN: Oh, well, I was just thinking it over, and I realize it’s actually almost as quick to –

DOUGLAS: Carolyn got to you, didn’t she?

MARTIN: What, no, she didn’t get to me. She just happened to make a couple of valid points and –

DOUGLAS: Martin, turn the plane around.

MARTIN: No, I’ve made a command decision.

DOUGLAS: It’s the wrong decision. Boston’s an extra forty minutes away.

MARTIN: Yes, well, forty minutes, that’s not all that –

DOUGLAS: If he dies thirty minutes out of Boston, just as he would be getting into the ambulance in Reykjavik, what are you going to tell his family?

[Beep]

MARTIN: Hello, Shanwick. It’s Golf Tango India here again.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Ah, if it isn’t the bouncing bomb. Where can we tempt you with this time? Tenerife’s very nice this time of year.

MARTIN: Reykjavik will be fine, thank you.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL: Are you sure now? I mean, don’t rush into anything because I have literally nothing better to do with my time than ping you around the Atlantic Ocean all the live-long day.

[Bing bong]

MARTIN: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Crieff once again, just to let you know that I misspoke a little just now. We will in fact be diverting to Reykjavik Airport as planned.

[Groans heard]

MARTIN: Oh, I know, trying to save someone’s life is such a chore, isn’t it? Speaking of which, if there is in fact, and despite the deafening silence so far, a doctor on board, and if that doctor has quite finished his chicken casserole, blueberry cheesecake, and – ooh – coffee with milk no sugar, then maybe such a hypothetical doctor might like to stop flicking through the duty-free catalog and thoughtfully pulling on his sandy mustache, and walk the hypothetical seven rows to join me with the patient here in the galley. But, if there isn’t a doctor on board, then never mind.

[Bing]

------

[Curtains pushed aside]

MAN: Hello?

MARTIN: Oh, hello! Mr. Price, is it?

DR. PRICE: Doctor Price.

MARTIN: Oh, a doctor! Good Lord, what a stroke of luck! The very thing we’re looking for. Well, this is the patient.

DR. PRICE: Okay, let’s have a look, okay. Uh huh.

MARTIN: What do you think?

DR. PRICE: I think, probably…a bridge.

MARTIN: A bridge?

DR. PRICE: Yeah, a tunnel’s obviously out of the question, but if you really need to get past him, you can use a couple of drinks trolleys and a stretcher to rig up a rudimentary cantilever bridge - that at least is my professional opinion as a Ph.D. in Civil Engineering. Or has one of us made some sort of really embarrassing mistake?

MARTIN: Wha – Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…

DR. PRICE: Yeah. Oh, and by the way, I dunno anything about medicine, but this guy doesn’t need a doctor.

MARTIN: What?

DR. PRICE: Not anymore.

------

CAROLYN: Turn the plane around.

MARTIN: You’re not listening to me.

CAROLYN: No, and far more importantly, you’re not turning the plane around. Do it, now.

MARTIN: I can’t turn the plane around.

CAROLYN: Martin, if there is one thing you’ve proved on this trip, over and over again, it’s that you can turn the plane around. Or were we just caught in a slow motion hurricane?

MARTIN: But, Mr. Lehman –

CAROLYN: Is dead! God rest his grumpy soul. So he doesn’t need an ambulance; he doesn’t need a hospital. All he needs is to be taken home. To Boston.

MARTIN: Douglas.

DOUGLAS: You could tell her we no longer have enough fuel left to get to Boston safely.

MARTIN: Yes, thank you! Carolyn, we no –

DOUGLAS: But we do.

MARTIN: Thank you so much.

DOUGLAS: Sorry, but she’s right. We should go to Boston.

CAROLYN: Ah-hah!

MARTIN: Fine, fine. We’ll go to Boston. But only if…

CAROLYN: Yes?

MARTIN: Douglas talks to Shanwick.

CAROLYN: Douglas?

DOUGLAS: My pleasure.

[Beeps]

DOUGLAS: Hello, Shanwick. Greetings once again from the merry men of Yo-Yo Airways.

------

ARTHUR: Well, goodbye then. I feel someone should, erm, say a few words. Hamilton R. Lehman. Born 1943 in… America, probably. Died 2008 in the sky… definitely. Non-vegetarian option. I didn’t know you for very long, Mr. Lehman, but I’ll always remember you as a shouty man. You loved to shout. Shout and smoke. Those were your twin passions. And so, in a way, I suppose you died doing what you loved: shouting and smoking and covered in foam. I don’t know if you liked that. You probably didn’t. Still. Goodbye. Rest in peace. Thank you for flying MJN Air!

------

MARTIN: D’you think we’ll make it in time?

DOUGLAS: Remember how I didn’t know three minutes ago? No new information has come in since then.

MARTIN: Right. [sighs]

DOUGLAS: You all right?

MARTIN: Yeah. It’s just, you know, it hasn’t been a great trip, has it? And I think possibly I made a few – well, I didn’t exactly – I’ve got this interview when we get back – if we get back in time, which I doubt, and I just wondered if, as a captain, as… things – [sighs] I mean, I only ask because, of course, you were a captain for a while, and I just wondered if – I mean, this is a bit difficult, but – could you give me some advice?

DOUGLAS: Well, the main thing is, you’ve got to stop asking for advice.

MARTIN: Great, thanks.

DOUGLAS: That’s okay. You can start as soon as I’ve given you mine. You’re the captain, Martin. And one of the many excellent things about being captain, along with the irresistible sexual magnetism and first crack at the cheese tray, is that you’re always right. So by all means, take opinions, but remember: You don’t have to listen to Carolyn. You don’t have to listen to ATC. You don’t even – and savor this because I shall never say it again – you don’t even have to listen to me. You’re the boss. What you say goes.

MARTIN: Yes. Yes, you’re right. Okay. Thank you. But, er, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: Simon says, ‘could you give me some advice?’

DOUGLAS: [groans] Well done.

MARTIN: My turn! My turn!

DOUGLAS: All right. Tell me when you’re ready.

[Silence]

DOUGLAS: Simon says, ‘tell me when you’re ready.’

MARTIN: I’m ready.

DOUGLAS: Come again?

MARTIN: I’m ready – oh!

------

ARTHUR: Goodbye! Thank you for flying MJN Air. Goodbye! Thank you for flying MJN Air. Goodbye! Thank you for flying MJN Air. Goodbye! Tha – oh, that’s it. Hold on, Mum!

DOUGLAS: And we’re all finished at the pointy end with a cheeky little twelve minutes in hand before we go out of hours.

CAROLYN: Great! Well… The paramedics are back there in the galley with Mr. L., so as soon as they’re ready –

[Curtains pushed aside]

CAROLYN: Oh, speak of the devils. Well, the angels.

PARAMEDIC: Are you Carolyn Knapp-Shappey?

CAROLYN: Yes.

PARAMEDIC: Did you call up an ambulance and crew, Ma’am?

CAROLYN: Yes, I did.

PARAMEDIC: And why did you do that?

CAROLYN: Why? Well, because, I – well, I mean, look at him.

PARAMEDIC: We are looking at him, and we’d like to know what you expect us to do with him?

CAROLYN: I have to tell you, I really don’t mind. Once he’s off my plane, as far as I’m concerned, you can let your imagination run wild.

PARAMEDIC: Ma’am! He’s dead. He’s been dead for some time. We are an emergency service. This guy: not so much an emergency.

CAROLYN: Well, what am I supposed to do? Carry him to the hospital over my shoulder?

PARAMEDIC: Ma’am, you need to contact the coroner’s office. They’ll send out a vehicle.

CAROLYN: When?

PARAMEDIC: I dunno. When they can. You just give them a call tomorrow morning. See when they can do.

CAROLYN: Tomorrow morning?

PARAMEDIC: Yeah. They’ll be all closed up now.

CAROLYN: So what are we supposed to do? Just leave him here until they’re ready for him?

PARAMEDIC: Absolutely not!

CAROLYN: Good!

PARAMEDIC: You’re gonna need to remain in attendance.

CAROLYN: What? What – w–w–we can’t! We can’t!

MARTIN: Just one moment if you please.

CAROLYN: Martin, don’t.

PARAMEDIC: Sir?

MARTIN: Madam, I don’t think you appreciate that I am the captain of this aircraft, not her.

PARAMEDIC: Yeah. And?

MARTIN: And – and – I just saw him move.

PARAMEDIC: No, you didn’t.

MARTIN: I absolutely did.

PARAMEDIC: This man’s been dead for some time, sir.

MARTIN: I don’t think so. I am telling you, I just saw him move.

PARAMEDIC: What movement did he make?

MARTIN: He did a little wave.

PARAMEDIC: I don’t think so.

MARTIN: Well, I do think so. And I am an airline captain, the commander of this vessel, and I am willing to swear anywhere that he absolutely did. He gave me a little wave, and then he pointed at you, and then he tapped his watch as if to say, “Why aren’t I in the hospital already?,” and then he relapsed into his unconscious state. So, it seems to me you can either refuse to take him, and I can while away the hours I spent waiting with him filing a complaint against you for negligence, which will tie us all up in endless red tape, until I eventually agree that maybe what I saw was just rigor mortis. Or, you can take him with you now, in your big empty ambulance, to the hospital, to which you are going anyway, and we can all hope and pray he doesn’t die on the way.

PARAMEDIC: Okay. Lucas, patient seen exhibiting vital signs. Get him on the gurney!

MARTIN: Thank you so much.

------

CAROLYN: Where is he?

DOUGLAS: Well, if last night’s anything to go by, he’s telling the whole story to every third person he meets. It slows him down a tad.

ARTHUR: While we’re waiting, can I just have a quick look in duty free?

CAROLYN: No, Arthur, you do not need any more Toblerones.

ARTHUR: Mum! They’ve got the white ones!

MARTIN: Ah hah, there you all are! Good morning, good morning, good morning, good morning.

DOUGLAS: Good morning, Martin! Still feeling pretty chipper, I see.

MARTIN: And whyever not? Twelve hours restful rest, a beautiful blue sky to fly in, and a certain sense of a job rather well done.

CAROLYN: Yes, Martin, we’re all delighted by your newfound butchness. Now can we please just get through customs and go home?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: Is this your bag, sir?

MARTIN: Yes, yes. I’m sorry, Carolyn, do I detect a note of tetchiness? Surely, you haven’t already forgotten how I single-handedly saved you from losing out on a trip worth tens of thousands of pounds?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: I’m just gonna take a look through it.

MARTIN: Yeah, fine.

[Luggage unzipped]

CAROLYN: Not yet, you haven’t. We’ve still got to get back on time.

MARTIN: You needn’t to worry about that, Carolyn. Clear skies, no wind, no pesky passengers to peg out midway. Istanbul awaits us. As indeed do the good people of easyJet – await me anyway.

CUSTOMS OFFICER: What’s this?

MARTIN: What?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: What’s this?

[Electric buzz]

MARTIN: Well, since you ask, it’s a nose hair clipper. Okay?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: It can’t go in your hand luggage. You need to put it in the hold.

MARTIN: [laughs] But they’re nasal clippers. What am I supposed to do with nasal clippers?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: I’m sorry, sir, that’s federal law.

MARTIN: [laughs again] You do realize we have an axe on the flight deck, don’t you?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: What?

DOUGLAS: Of course, Captain, there is a time and a place for the strong-arm tactic –

MARTIN: We have a fire axe. So you’re stopping me from equipping myself with the deadly power of the nose hairs’ trimmer on board a plane where I can, should the mood take me, brandish an axe.

CUSTOMS OFFICER: I am not sure what you are telling me, sir.

DOUGLAS: He’s not telling you anything. He doesn’t want his silly old clippers anyway, repulsive object. Come on, Martin, before you say anything you might –

MARTIN: [interrupting] And besides that, I’m the one flying the bloody thing. If I want to crash the plane, I don’t even need an axe. I just need to push on the big metal column in front of me – Agh!

[Thud heard as CUSTOMS OFFICER tackles MARTIN]

DOUGLAS: And there it is.

CUSTOMS OFFICER: Sir, I am arresting you under Section Six of the Antiterrorism Act of 2002.

MARTIN: What?

CUSTOMS OFFICER: You were heard in the presence of witnesses to make a threat against the safety of the aircraft. Please come with me, [MARTIN grunts] sir!

CAROLYN: You idiot, Martin! You colossal idiot!

MARTIN: But – but I’ve got to fly the plane in forty minutes!

CUSTOMS OFFICER: Oh no, sir, I don’t think so. Come with me! Please!

[Sounds of struggle as CUSTOMS OFFICER drags MARTIN away]

CAROLYN: Come back! Come ba – bring him back!

[Footsteps as CAROLYN gives chase]

DOUGLAS: So, Arthur, shall we take a look at those Toblerones?

------

[Closing credits]
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:07 am

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Series 1, Episode 3: CREMONA

(bing bong!)

DOUGLAS: Good evening. This is First Officer Douglas Richardson. Just to let you know we're now making our final preparations to Fly You To The Moon.
While we're airborne I do hope you'll take advantage of the opportunity to play among the stars; those of you sitting on the left-hand side of the aircraft should have an excellent view of what spring is like on Jupiter . . . and on the right-hand side, Mars.
In other words, hold my hand; in other words, baby, kiss me.
Cabin doors to automatic.


OPENING CREDITS [BC]: This week: Cremona!


MARTIN: [chuckles] Very good, very good. Okay, my turn.

DOUGLAS: All right. Do . . . "Come Fly With Me".

MARTIN: [clears throat] (bing bong!) Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of MJN Air I'd like to invite you to [sings] Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly awa—

CAROLYN: [intercom] Martin! Martin, what on earth are you doing?

MARTIN: Carolyn! I—oh—yes! Nothing!

CAROLYN: What's going on in there? You've been on stand for half an hour! I've been waiting for you in the portacabin!

DOUGLAS: Yes, we saw your light was on and we thought you might still be there.

CAROLYN: But you didn't come in!

DOUGLAS: No, we saw your light was on and we thought you might still be there.

CAROLYN: Well, come in now. I want to talk to you. Well heaven knows that's not true, but I have things to tell you.


[In the portacabin.]

CAROLYN: Ah! At last. Now then, guess who's got a job tomorrow? I'll give you a clue: it's us.

DOUGLAS: And they called Hitchcock the master of suspense.

CAROLYN: Anyway, you'll like this trip. You are taking a film star to Italy.

MARTIN: A film star?

CAROLYN: Mm-hmm.

MARTIN: Which one?

CAROLYN: Hester Macaulay.

MARTIN: Oh, yes, wasn't she—

ARTHUR: HESTER MACAULAY?!

DOUGLAS: Good lord, Arthur, I didn't know you were here!

ARTHUR: Hester Macaulay?! The Lady of the Lake?! In my cabin?!

MARTIN: What were you doing behind there?

CAROLYN: And what are you talking about, idiot child?

ARTHUR: She was Griselda, the Lady of the Lake! In Quest for Camelot!

CAROLYN: Oh, was she.

ARTHUR: YES! She's the one who tells Arthur to bring her Excalibur!

DOUGLAS: Bring her Excalibur? Surely she gives him Excalibur.

ARTHUR: How could she give him Excalibur? Excalibur's a person.

DOUGLAS: Right. Keen Arthurian scholars, were they, these filmmakers?

ARTHUR: Well, I say person; obviously it famously turns out he's a vampire!

CAROLYN: Arthur? There's something on your face.

ARTHUR: Oh. Got it?

CAROLYN: No, no, lower, it's hanging off the bottom of your face. It's a sort of huge shelf of bone and flesh, and it's flapping about making a horrible noise. Will you make it stop?

ARTHUR: Right. Yes. Sorry, Mum.

CAROLYN: Thank you. Now scatter to the winds, all of you. Martin, flight plan; Douglas, load sheet; Arthur, coffee.

ARTHUR: Right.

CAROLYN: Fly, my pretties, fly!

MARTIN: Come on, monkey face.

ARTHUR: Right-o! [They exit.]

DOUGLAS: Cremona? So I imagine we're staying at the Excelsior?

CAROLYN: Then carry on imagining, Douglas, because that's as close as you're getting. Ms Macaulay will be at the Excelsior. You will be over the road at the Garibaldi.

DOUGLAS: Oh, no! The Garibaldi's an absolute dump!

CAROLYN: A dump, yes, but a keenly priced dump.

DOUGLAS: If this was a proper airline we'd be staying at the Excelsior.

CAROLYN: Agreed, and if you were proper pilots you'd be flying with a proper airline. Impasse. Now go and do me that load sheet. One passenger, and a dozen shirts.

DOUGLAS: One of our sweatier actresses, is she?

CAROLYN: No, the film's set in Fascist Italy. And apparently the studio needs some extra black shirts for the, um . . .

DOUGLAS: Extras?

CAROLYN: Yes, playing . . .

DOUGLAS: Blackshirts?

CAROLYN: Precisely.


[The next day, in the portacabin.]

MARTIN: "Good moooorning, madam, and welco—" No. 'Ma'am.' "Good morning, ma'am, and welc—" No, she's not the Queen! Hmm. "Good morning, Ms Macaulay, and wel—" No, 'madam'.

[ARTHUR and DOUGLAS enter, with the sound of voices in the background]

ARTHUR: —thing is, is it unprofessional to tell a passenger that you once made a collage of her face out of pasta shapes?

DOUGLAS: Hmm. I really don't know.

ARTHUR: You see, part of me thinks—

DOUGLAS: Oh, I'm sorry, did I say 'know'? I meant 'care'. I don't really care. 'Morning, Martin, you're looking very smart.

MARTIN: No I'm not, no more than usual, this is how I always look, what are you saying?

DOUGLAS: Yes, you're quite right, it was an unforgivable compliment, I do apologize. Now then, Arthur, spot test.

ARTHUR: Oh, great! I love these.

DOUGLAS: What can you tell me about the group of people we passed just now waiting outside the portacabin?

ARTHUR: Right. Um, I didn't really notice them. Um . . . Mostly men, I think. Uh, I think one of them had a beard . . . that's it.

DOUGLAS: There are about thirty of them, all wearing homemade suits of armour, and singing a song about a dragon.

ARTHUR: Yeah, now you say that . . .

MARTIN: Suits of armour? Why on earth—

[HESTER MACAULAY enters, accompanied by the strains of the crowd singing "as it was written, so it shall BEEEEE . . . !"]

HESTER: Thank you, thank you! Yes, thank you. [door slams shut] Oh. Hello. MJN Air?

MARTIN: Yes! Hel-lo. Er, good morning, miss—madam, and well, m-m-madam Macaulay, miss Ma—mmMm—Ms Macaulay!

HESTER: Ooh! Thank you. But please, call me Hester.

DOUGLAS: Yes, the full title's rather a mouthful, isn't it?

MARTIN: Th-th-th-this is First Offi—I mean, I'm . . . Captain Martin Crieff, but this is the first officer, Douglas Richardson, the co-pilot.

HESTER: Pleased to meet you, Mr Co-Pilot. Is that like being a co-star?

DOUGLAS: I suppose it is, yes.

MARTIN: [laughs] Well not really, I mean, 'co-star' is equal with the other co-star whereas the co-pilot is junior to me.

HESTER: Oh yes, I'm sure he is, Captain Crieff.

MARTIN: Please, call me madam—MARTIN!

HESTER: Thank you, Martin, I will. And who is this?

ARTHUR: Hello! I am Arthur.

HESTER: What.

ARTHUR: Er . . . I'm Arthur?

HESTER: "King of the Britons"?

ARTHUR: Steward of the Aeroplane.

DOUGLAS: He, er, he really is called Arthur.

HESTER: Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry, Arthur. I thought you were one of those . . . idiotic fans. Now, I wonder if I could just have a quick word with the manager?

MARTIN: Oh yes, yes, of course! Just through that door there.

HESTER: Thank you so much, Captain—ah, Martin.

MARTIN: Oh, you're quite welcome, Hester.

[HESTER exits.]

DOUGLAS: Oh, quite welcome, Hester. Quite, quite, quite.

MARTIN: Jealous!


[In CAROLYN's office.]

CAROLYN: Oh! Hello. You must be Ms Macaulay. How splendid to meet you.

HESTER: Where's the manager? I want to speak to him.

CAROLYN: Well, I'm her. Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, owner and manager.

HESTER: Right. Then what the hell is going on here? I arrive at what I'm assured is a competent and discreet private charter firm to find the entrance thronged with my fans.

CAROLYN: Would you call them a throng?

HESTER: Through which I have to fight my own way!

CAROLYN: I'm not sure thirty's a throng. A gathering, maybe.

HESTER: Because no one is there to meet me, to help me from the taxi, to take my luggage, to show me to the—

CAROLYN: Oh I'm so sorry, I had no idea. We'll make arrangements immediately. Now may I ask the precise nature of your disability?

HESTER: What? I'm not disabled!

CAROLYN: Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you said you couldn't get out of a taxi without help.

HESTER: Listen. Have you even flown a film star before?

CAROLYN: We took Norman Pace to Farnborough. He's a lovely man.

HESTER: Well, I am not Norman Pace.

CAROLYN: I was beginning to suspect as much.

HESTER: Listen to me, dearie. One more crack out of you and the executive producer of this film will cancel the contract and re-book me on a flight with a professional company.

CAROLYN: [after a pause] I'm so sorry if I have in any way offended you. Nothing could be further from my intention.

HESTER: That's better. And another thing—is that strange little red-faced man actually a qualified pilot? I mean, am I safe to fly with him?

CAROLYN: I can assure you that Captain Crieff is very nearly the best pilot in the company.


[Later, in the flight deck.]

MARTIN: . . . and beside that we have the artificial horizon.

HESTER: Gosh, yes! What does it do?

MARTIN: Well, it just tells you if you're flying level, or . . .

HESTER: Ah!

MARTIN: . . . or, or, or-or not level. And if you're not flying level you can correct it on the basis of that. And fly more . . . more . . .

DOUGLAS: Levelly?

MARTIN: Levelly!

DOUGLAS: Lovely.

MARTIN: And these are the altimeters—

HESTER: Really? They sound like a nice middle-class couple, don't they?

[DOUGLAS and HESTER laugh; MARTIN joins in.]

MARTIN: H-how d'you mean?

HESTER: You know. "Oh, do come in, lovely to see you. Now, have you met the Altimeters?"

MARTIN: Oh! [laughing, finally relieved to get the joke] I see! Yes, that's very good! Yes, the Altimeters! Mrs Altimeter and Mr Altimeter! "I'm-I'm-I'm Greg Altimeter and this is my wife, Katherine Altimeter!"

HESTER: . . . Exactly, yes. Why do you need two?

MARTIN: Um, just in case one goes wrong.

DOUGLAS: That's the theory, anyway. In practice, it's like Confucius says, "Man with one altimeter, always know height; man with two, never certain."

HESTER: [laughs]

MARTIN: Oh, I know loads like that! [laughs, puts on horrible faux-Chinese accent] "Confucius, he say . . . " [pause] Oh, they've, um, they've all gone out of my head.

HESTER: Oh, never mind. I probably ought to go back now, actually. Thank you so much for showing me around up here.

MARTIN: Yes. Right, yes, of course. Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Who knows, maybe you can show me around a film set one day.

HESTER: [after a beat] Maybe. Who knows.

MARTIN: "Never eat yellow snow!"

HESTER: What?

MARTIN: Confucius! He—well, t-that's . . . not one of the best ones.

HESTER: Okay. [Exits.]

MARTIN: [sighs] What a lovely woman.

DOUGLAS: Oh, did you like her? You seemed rather cool and distant.

MARTIN: Oh no! Did I? Really?

DOUGLAS: No.


[In the passenger cabin]

ARTHUR: Hello.

HESTER: Oh, hello.

ARTHUR: Might I ask yourself at this time if yourself would care to partake of the enjoyment of the in-flight entertainment system we do provide on the aircraft today?

HESTER: What?

ARTHUR: Shall I put the telly on?

HESTER: That's sweet of you, but I'm quite happy reading my book. Thank you.

ARTHUR: You're welcome.

HESTER: Is that all?

ARTHUR: Yes, that's all. Except . . . I'm-I'm sorry about that thing when you met me and you thought I was a fan.

HESTER: Oh. No, no, no, I . . . I should apologize to you. It's just . . . those ridiculous Camelot idiots. They follow me all over the world singing and chanting and telling me they're my "biggest fans". It gets to one a little sometimes, you know?

ARTHUR: Right. I see. Still, though, I just want to say: I am your biggest fan.

HESTER: Oh really?

ARTHUR: Absolutely!

HESTER: Enjoy my Clytemnestra, did you?

ARTHUR: Your Clyte . . . ?

HESTER: My career-defining Clytemnestra at Stratford. Or perhaps you preferred my Olivier Award-winning performance in A Doll's House?

ARTHUR: You performed in a doll's house?!

HESTER: No? Well, perhaps you're more of a movie buff.

ARTHUR: Yes! I just loved—

HESTER: No, don't tell me, I'm keen to guess. A Light Shines Darkly? Tails, You Lose? Fardel's Bear?

ARTHUR: No, I loved—

HESTER: Because I hope you weren't about to suggest that you're my biggest fan based on two miserable weeks I spent up to my bosom in pond weed filming some ridiculous fantasy dreck I only agreed to because my little cat needed a dialysis machine!

ARTHUR: Right. No, I like the other ones. Did your cat get better?

HESTER: No, she died.

ARTHUR: Oh dear. Still, you know what they say about cats.

HESTER: What?

ARTHUR: They've got nine lives! So, maybe . . . she's still alive!

HESTER: GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!

ARTHUR: Right-o!

[Enter CAROLYN.]

CAROLYN: Everything all right in here?

ARTHUR: I'm just getting out of a client's sight! [Exits.]

CAROLYN: So often the key to a happy flight.

HESTER: Do please explain to me what the hell is going on here?

CAROLYN: Difficult book, is it?

HESTER: Not the book! The fact that, having assured me I would have no more trouble from my weird fans, you appear to have assigned me one as my steward!

CAROLYN: I apologize, madam, but . . . Can I congratulate you on the hard-line manner in which you dealt with the menace?

HESTER: What?

CAROLYN: Oh, it's just that so many people, faced with someone shyly telling them they liked their work, would simply have smiled and said "Thank you" but not you. You let the bastard have it with both barrels! Well done, you!

HESTER: Listen. It's not too late for me to walk out on you, you know.

CAROLYN: That's true, so long as you can phone your executive producer before we take off. May I just remind you all electronic equipment must be switched off until after we take off?

HESTER: I am the executive producer.

CAROLYN: How can I make madam's journey more comfortable?

HESTER: That's better. I want that Camelot freak kept out of my sight. You can do my stewardessing, and you can start by bringing me a lemon tea.

CAROLYN: Instantly, madam. [draws the cabin entrance curtains back] Arthur, put the kettle on and dig out those lemon hand wipes!


[In Cremona, at the Excelsior.]

ARTHUR: Wow, this hotel's amazing! Look, that whole wall's a waterfall!

MARTIN: Don't get too attached to it, the Garibaldi is pretty different. Though to be fair, it does also have water running down the walls.

DOUGLAS: Ms Macaulay, may I present . . . the Excelsior.

HESTER: Oh, it's lovely, Douglas. Thank you so much.

RECEPTIONIST: Buon giorno, signor!

MARTIN: Oh. Buon giorno. Um, do you speak English?

RECEPTIONIST: Of course, sir.

MARTIN: Good, great. One room, please.

RECEPTIONIST: Certainly. What name is it?

MARTIN: Ms Hes—

HESTER: Martin?

MARTIN: Yes?

HESTER: I don't use my real name. The fans, remember?

MARTIN: Oh, yes, of course! What name do you use?

HESTER: Oh, various ones. Often cartoon characters.

ARTHUR: Oh, wow, did you nick that one off Notting Hill?

HESTER: They nicked it off me.

MARTIN: So what name shall I use?

HESTER: You choose?

MARTIN: Ah . . . yes. One room, please, for Ms . . . Jessica Rabbit.

HESTER: Martin!

MARTIN: Oh God, no! I mean, I didn't mean you look like—not that you don't look like—well, that, that you do—but—um, not Jessica Rabbit; Mrs . . . Snoopy!

HESTER: But why only one room? Where are you all staying?

DOUGLAS: The Garibaldi.

HESTER: Oh no. No, you mustn't stay there, it's ghastly. They tried to put me up there when I did Who Do You Think You Are?.

DOUGLAS: Oh, you have Italian relatives?

HESTER: God no. But when the BBC offer to fly you to wherever your family are from, you don't say Kidderminster. The Garibaldi is the most awful dive. I insisted they move me.

DOUGLAS: Oh dear. Well, Carolyn can't have known that when she booked it for us, can she, Martin?

MARTIN: No.

HESTER: If I were you I'd just stay here! Oh, unless you have to.

DOUGLAS: Captain?

MARTIN: No, no we don't have to, good lord, no. Erm, three more rooms, please.

RECEPTIONIST: Certainly, sir. What names?

ARTHUR: Oooh oooh can I be Goofy?

MARTIN: Douglas Richardson, Arthur Shappey, and Captain Martin Crieff.

RECEPTIONIST: Ooooh, you're a capitan?

MARTIN: That's right, yes, I'm an airline captain.

RECEPTIONIST: So, did you want a suite?

MARTIN: What?

RECEPTIONIST: Well, generally when the air crews come, the capitan, he likes a suite.

HESTER: Oooh!

MARTIN: Yes! Er, the thing about that is—

RECEPTIONIST: No, sir, I ask because I'm sorry, we have no left today.

MARTIN: Oh! Oh, well. Well, yes, I would have liked one. I mean, obviously I'm an airline captain. And frankly this is very shoddy. I mean, I'll rough it this once in one of your normal . . . five-star rooms, but I'm very disappointed.

RECEPTIONIST: Well, you could always take the staterooms.

MARTIN: What?

RECEPTIONIST: The staterooms, on the fifth floor. The whole of the fifth floor.

HESTER: Oh yes Martin! Why don't you?

MARTIN: Right. Yes! I will! Yes! Yes!

DOUGLAS: Nonchalantly done.


[In the elevator]

MARTIN: . . . And anything else I can do, you have my number, so don't hesitate to call! [elevator pings closed]

ARTHUR: Wow, Skip, five-star hotel, eh? This is the life!

MARTIN: No it's not.

ARTHUR: Isn't it?

MARTIN: No. We're going straight back down to the lobby, refunding those rooms, and we're going back to the Garibaldi. I'm so sorry to disappoint you.

ARTHUR: No, it's fine. I don't like big hotel rooms, anyway. Too many drawers.

MARTIN: Drawers?

ARTHUR: Yeah. 'Cause, you know, you gotta put something in every drawer, haven't you? Or it doesn't feel like home. And sometimes in these places I have to split pairs of socks.


[Back in the lobby, at the front desk]

MARTIN: Ah, hello. I was here fifteen minutes ago, I—

RECEPTIONIST: I remember you.

MARTIN: Yes, I imagine you would do.

RECEPTIONIST: It's very exciting for us, you know. We don't often get to rent out the staterooms in the winter.

MARTIN: No, I bet you don't. The thing is, I, um, I've been up to have a look at the room—the rooms; and to be honest, they're a little . . . stately.

RECEPTIONIST: They're staterooms.

MARTIN: Yes, I appreciate that, but there comes a point that you feel when a stateroom crosses the line from being a nice, stately room for a statesman to . . . lie in state and becomes, you know, just terrifyingly huge and expensive. So . . . if you could possibly just refund me the—

RECEPTIONIST: Oooh.

MARTIN: I don't like the way you said "Oh". Please tell me it's a cultural thing and that's just how you begin the sentence (mimics RECEPTIONIST's accent) "Oooh, don't worry, sir, that will be no problem-o at all!"

RECEPTIONIST: No, the problem is, somebody just tried to rent the staterooms, and we had to turn him down.

MARTIN: Great, he can have it.

RECEPTIONIST: No, no, he's gone now. We don't know where.

MARTIN: What did he look like?

RECEPTIONIST: Oh, he was a-a big . . . man, with a big . . . coat, and . . . a . . . big . . . beard!

MARTIN: Right. So in the eight minutes since I was last here Brian Blessed strolled in, tried to rent the most expensive suite in the hotel and then left disappointed for destination unknown.

RECEPTIONIST: I didn't get his name.

ARTHUR: Bluto?

MARTIN: Despite you just telling me you never get any bookings for it during the winter!

RECEPTIONIST: What can I say? We were lucky.

MARTIN: Yes, well, you make your own luck, don't you? How about the other two rooms, the normal-sized ones. Can you refund those?

RECEPTIONIST: This maybe we can do.

MARTIN: Right, great. [a mobile phone rings] Oh, for heaven's sake! Arthur, go to Douglas's room. 312. Stop him unpacking, I'll meet you there.

ARTHUR: Right.

MARTIN: [phone beeps] Hello?

CAROLYN: [over the phone] Martin, my favourite aviator.

MARTIN: [pained laugh] Oh God, what have I done now?

CAROLYN: Nothing, nothing! You simply find me in a rare good humour!

MARTIN: Certainly rare.

CAROLYN: I'm in Italy on a sunny day, my flight home is not till midnight, the studio have coughed up the money like lambs, and generally all is rosy. Unless you were about to tell me otherwise.

MARTIN: No, no, everything here's fine.

CAROLYN: Excellent! Well, such a good mood am I in, I thought I would treat you three to dinner tonight.

MARTIN: Well, that's very nice of you—

CAROLYN: And not only that, but at the Excelsior.

MARTIN: Ohhhh. No, no! The Garibaldi will be fine!

CAROLYN: Oh, don't be ridiculous. The Garibaldi is far from fine or you wouldn't be staying there.

MARTIN: No, actually I had a look at the restaurant—they do a very nice Italian . . . burger . . . thing. Looks good.

CAROLYN: I don't know what you're playing at, Martin, but stop it. For reasons of my own I particularly want us to eat at the Excelsior this evening, so that is where I shall see you. Seven-thirty sharp. [hangs up]

MARTIN: Oh, terrific.


[On the third floor.]

MARTIN: . . . Three-ten, three-eleven . . . ah, three-twelve. [knocks, door opens]

DOUGLAS: Ah, Martin, hello. No.

MARTIN: No what?

DOUGLAS: No way, absolutely out of the question, José.

MARTIN: You don't know what I'm going to ask!

DOUGLAS: Oh, but I do.

ARTHUR: Hello Skipper! Don't worry, I filled Douglas in.

MARTIN: Oh well done!

DOUGLAS: So, if Arthur could be relied upon, which I can see is far from a given, you're going to ask if, to save your skin with Carolyn, I will leave this lovely five-star hotel room and go to the Garibaldi.

MARTIN: Yes.

DOUGLAS: While you stay here in a five-star hotel stateroom suite. Well, obviously I'll have to think long and hard about this one! No.

MARTIN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: Sorry, I like it here. I have two fluffy dressing gowns in case one of them goes wrong, and a complimentary mixed nuts which is charming—

MARTIN: Well, I'm sorry, but I've returned this room to the hotel. You can't stay here.

DOUGLAS: Fair enough. Then you go to the Garibaldi and I'll have the staterooms.

MARTIN: No, Douglas, I'm trying to tell you you're right!

DOUGLAS: So glad we agree.

MARTIN: You're right, you can't trust anything Arthur tells you. Of course I'm not staying in the staterooms. I got them refunded too.

ARTHUR: What, after I'd gone?

MARTIN: Yes, after you'd gone.

ARTHUR: Oh, well done, Skip. I must say I'm surprised because that receptionist seemed pretty firm—

MARTIN: I'm very persuasive. So, all the rooms are refunded and we have no choice but to go to the Garibaldi, okay?

DOUGLAS: . . . [huffs] Spoilsport. All right, give me ten minutes, I have things to pack.

MARTIN: You can't have unpacked already.

DOUGLAS: I didn't say they were my things.

MARTIN: Don't forget the mixed nuts.

DOUGLAS: As if I would.


[At the Garibaldi.]

ARTHUR: Gosh. It is different here, isn't it? Are those real?

DOUGLAS: No, no. They're decorative stuffed cockroaches. Ah well, see you at dinner then, chaps.

MARTIN: 'Bye. . . . Is he gone? Right. [to the RECEPTIONIST] Buon giorno. Excuse me, I made a mistake—I just want one room, please, if we can return these two?

RECEPTIONIST: [releases a put-upon groan.]

MARTIN: Thank you.

ARTHUR: What's going on, Skip?

MARTIN: All right, Arthur, listen really carefully.

ARTHUR: Oh dear. I hate these.

MARTIN: You and I aren't staying here tonight. We're staying (whispers) in the Excelsior! In the staterooms.

ARTHUR: but I thought you managed to return—

MARTIN: NO, of course I didn't return them! But here's the important thing . . .


[On the way back to the Excelsior.]

MARTIN: . . . you mustn't tell Douglas that we're staying at the Excelsior, you mustn't tell Hester we're staying at the Garibaldi, and above all you must not tell Carolyn . . . anything at all, got that?

ARTHUR: . . . No.

MARTIN: Okay. Look, here we are, we might just be able to pull this off.

[ARTHUR and MARTIN run into a crowd of HESTER's fans, singing "as it was written, so it shall BEEEEE . . . !"]

MARTIN: [shouting above the din] Arthur, you promised me you didn't tell anyone where she was staying!

ARTHUR: I didn't, honestly I didn't!

MARTIN: You must have done! Oh God, d'you think she's seen them? [his mobile rings] Hello?

HESTER: [over the phone] What. Have. You. DONE?

ARTHUR: Yes I do.

MARTIN: Ah, Hester! I was just—

HESTER: Don't "Hester" me, you ridiculous incompetent little man.

MARTIN: B—

HESTER: Just explain to me how it is that—no, actually, don't explain.

MARTIN: Bu—

HESTER: I don't want to hear any more of your stuttering and toadying. I just want you to make them all GO AWAY! [hangs up]

DOUGLAS: Well. She's no Norman Pace, is she?

MARTIN: Douglas, what are you doing here?

DOUGLAS: Oh, I saw you beetling off and I just had a hunch this might be an interesting place to come and have a drink. The horde of knights is an unexpected bonus.

MARTIN: What am I gonna do?

DOUGLAS: About what in particular?

MARTIN: About everything!

DOUGLAS: Ah, everything in particular. Well, as I see it your problems are: a vastly expensive non-refundable stateroom suite, a hotel lobby's worth of gormless fans, and a furious actress.

MARTIN: Yes!

DOUGLAS: And your assets are: a dozen black shirts.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Well. The answer's obvious, surely.

MARTIN: Not to me!

DOUGLAS: Ah! Interesting. Because it is to me. So, suppose I were to sort all this out for you and suppose once it was sorted out there was still a nice Excelsior hotel room left over . . .

MARTIN: Yes, yes you can have it.

DOUGLAS: Excellent. [To the KNIGHTS] Attention, o spotty knights! I have a proposition for you. Am I right in thinking that you're here lying in wait like grubby leopards for Hester Macaulay?

KNIGHTS: Yes!

DOUGLAS: Well, as the more astute—or the least un-astute of you—have noticed, she's not coming down until you go away.

KNIGHT: Well, we're not going away until she comes down!

KNIGHTS: Yes!

DOUGLAS: What a delicious metaphysical conundrum. And one to which, luckily, I have the answer. I can arrange for twelve of you to not only meet Ms Macaulay [The KNIGHTS gasp], but to actually shake her hand [a louder gasp] after first washing your own sixteen or seventeen times, naturally. On condition that the rest of you immediately go a really really long way away.

KNIGHT: But how do we pick which twelve?

KNIGHT: Oh, well, we could cut cards for it!

DOUGLAS: Oh, come, come! What sort of opportunity does that give you to demonstrate your strange, unsettling devotion?

KNIGHT: You mean you want us to fight for it?

DOUGLAS: No, no, no! I want you to bid for it. Do I hear, for instance, five hundred euro?

KNIGHT: Five hundred euros! [The other KNIGHTS start clamoring with their own bids.]

DOUGLAS: It seems I do.


[In the hotel. The elevator pings open.]

DOUGLAS: After you, Ms Macaulay. [The elevator doors close.] Ms Macaulay, on behalf of us all at MJN Air, allow me to say how sorry we are for all the trouble and inconvenience you've suffered.

HESTER: Well you bloody well should be.

DOUGLAS: Indeed we bloody well should be and so we bloody well are. Firstly, let me assure you that the mediaeval contingent have now been entirely vanquished, and furthermore, in recompense for your suffering, I have been authorized to procure for you perhaps the most luxurious accommodation in Italy not already bagsied by the Pope. Behold [elevator doors ping open] your staterooms.[Doors close.]

HESTER: How did you time your speech so that it ended precisely on the ding?

DOUGLAS: I rode up and down the lift a few times, practicing.

HESTER: Well, it's a nice room.

DOUGLAS: It is a nice room, and beyond lies an even nicer room, which leads into a frankly astonishing room, and beyond that . . . an airing cupboard, which I admit is an anticlimax.

HESTER: This is certainly more how I expect to be treated.

DOUGLAS: Well of course it is. And not only that, but we have paid for the hotel to lay on a team of staff who'll be exclusively dedicated to looking after you during your stay. Allow me to introduce [opens door] your butler!

"BUTLER": Let us a—

DOUGLAS: Sadly, none of them can speak any English.

HESTER: Pleased to meet you. [The "staff" titter.]

DOUGLAS: Then this is your under-butler, your under-under-butler and your under-butler-butler. And this is your chef, your wine waiter, your pastry cook, and your . . . pudding-smith.

HESTER: Pleased to meet you.

"PUDDING-SMITH": [through a strangled giggle] Pleased to meet . . . you.

HESTER: Are you all right?

DOUGLAS: That's Cremonese dialect for "Pleasure's ours." Finally, your laundry man, your knife-and-boots boy, the man whose job it is to fold the end of your loo roll into a V-shape, and your . . . stable lad.

HESTER: Why on earth would I want a stable lad?

DOUGLAS: Don't you? Umberto, you're fired. [UMBERTO: Aww . . . ]

HESTER: Isn't there a maid of some sort?

DOUGLAS: Oh yes, of course! Umberto, you're re-hired. [UMBERTO: Woohoo!] Now all of you, get out. [The "staff" complain vociferously] OUT! [They exit.]

HESTER: Curious uniform they have.

DOUGLAS: Yes, I rather like it.

HESTER: If I was an Italian hotel manager, I wouldn't give my staff black shirts.

DOUGLAS: Ah, but that's the beauty of it. Gives them an exciting ninja look, don't you feel?


[In the hotel dining room.]

DOUGLAS: It's perfectly simple. Hester stays in your staterooms, paid for by the proceeds of the handshake auction, I stay in Hester's old room here, you stay in my old room at the Garibaldi.

ARTHUR: And me?

DOUGLAS: Also in my room at the Garibaldi.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! Bagsie I get the floor.

MARTIN: Why would you want the floor?

ARTHUR: Are you joking? I sleep in a bed every night! . . . Ooh, there's Mum!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn? I thought she was flying home!

MARTIN: Not till tonight. She was very keen to take us for dinner here first, God knows why—Carolyn! Hello.

CAROLYN: Martin, what is going on?

MARTIN: Nothing, nothing! Everything's fine! Hester's happy, the accommodation budget's balanced, everything is absolutely fine!

CAROLYN: Where are all the fans?

MARTIN: You heard about that, did you? Well, we did have a momentary glitch with some enthusiasts, but don't worry, we sent them all away!

CAROLYN: You sent them away? Why on earth did you send them away? They were my revenge!

MARTIN: What?

CAROLYN: Yes! Why else did you think I told them where she was staying?

MARTIN: You told them?

CAROLYN: Of course I told them! As soon as the studio paid up. No one calls me "dearie" and gets away with it! And then I specifically booked this table for us to survey the mayhem! Douglas, didn't you explain this to him?

DOUGLAS: I . . .

MARTIN: Douglas explain it?

CAROLYN: Yes! It was his idea in the first place!

MARTIN: DOUGLAS!

DOUGLAS: . . . Mixed nut?
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:09 am

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Series 1, Episode 4: DOUZ

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Good afternoon. This is your captain speaking. Just to say there is absolutely nothing to worry about.

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Hello. Captain Crieff here again. Still no need to panic. I repeat, there is no need to panic. Or to look out of the windows. Everything's fine.

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Actually, I wasn't being entirely straight with you just now. You see, it's this damnable sleeping sickness of mine. [Yawns.] Normally I control it with a mysterious stimulant from South America but blast it, my supply's run out. I'm afraid our only hope now is if by some chance someone on board knows how to prepare this stimulant and could—

CAROLYN: Yes, we get the message. Arthur, take Martin his coffee.


OPENING CREDITS: This week: Douz!


ARTHUR: Here you are, skipper! Wow, is that the Sahara?

DOUGLAS: The vast sandy thing on the ground? That's the chap, yes.

ARTHUR: Wow. It's brilliant!

DOUGLAS: Always at hand with the mot juste, aren't you, Arthur? Yes, the Sahara Desert is brilliant, just as the Niagara Falls were brilliant, the Northern Lights were brilliant, and that chap from RyanAir burping the theme to the Muppets was really brilliant.

ARTHUR: Come on, that was brilliant. Wow, camels!

DOUGLAS: And how would you describe them, in a word?

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

DOUGLAS: Thought so.

ARTHUR: What are they all doing there?

DOUGLAS: Filling up. Douz is the last town in Tunisia before the desert. It's like a big camel petrol station.

MARTIN: [scoffs] What would you know about petrol stations?

DOUGLAS: I've . . . seen them; I drive past them; sometimes I stop for a Kit-Kat.

ARTHUR: What, doesn't—doesn't your car need petrol, Douglas?

MARTIN: No, Douglas's car does not need petrol.

ARTHUR: Wow. Well, maybe I should get one—

DOUGLAS: Yes, Arthur, you keep lumbering on after the uptake. It's sure to tire eventually. What Martin's getting at (and this isn't for your mother's ears) is: you know how we have to run off a couple of litres of fuel before every trip to check for water droplets? Well, there's nothing in the book to say where you have to run it off to.

ARTHUR: Ah.

MARTIN: I think there's a general understanding that they didn't mean "into the tank of the first officer's Lexus".

DOUGLAS: Then they should have said so. I'm not a mind reader.

ARTHUR: What, you can run a car on aviation fuel?

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes! It's a bit like giving a bunny rabbit cheetah food, but it doesn't half make it go—as I imagine it would do the bunny rabbit.

DOUZ ATC: Golf Tango India, good evening. You're cleared to land at your discretion on 2-7. Wind is 200 at 25.

DOUGLAS: Roger. [switches off radio] Ooh, breezy.

MARTIN: You still happy to take the landing, or shall I?

DOUGLAS: Oh, I suspect I'll muddle through, Martin. I was doing my logbook the other day and I noticed that this happens to be my 2,000th landing.

ARTHUR: Oh, wow! Is that true? That's amazing.

DOUGLAS: Oh. Not "brilliant"? I'm crushed.

MARTIN: No, it's not true, Arthur, it's just another transparent attempt to remind me what a mighty Sky God he is.

DOUGLAS: Of course it's true! Why would you doubt it?

MARTIN: Well, my suspicions were first aroused by the use of the phrase "I was doing my logbook". The last time you did your logbook, you could've had it signed off by Douglas Bader.

DOUGLAS: Don't listen to him, Arthur. Two thousand landings precisely.

ARTHUR: Wow. And how many takeoffs?

DOUGLAS: Oh, nothing like as many.

ARTHUR: Right.

MARTIN: Mmm, because of course takeoffs are cancelled all the time; landings almost never.

DOUGLAS: That's right.

ARTHUR: Ah, yes. Of course.

MARTIN: [warning beep] Oh, hang on, we've lost one of the hydro systems.

DOUGLAS: Mmm, possibly. The thing about Gertie though, bless her, is she is rather The Aeroplane Who Cries Wolf. I particularly enjoyed her last ground proximity warning—the one when we were on the ground.

MARTIN: The contents have fallen to zero. Stand by Pump 2 on, check pressure . . . Pressure's falling. No, we really have lost No. 1 hydraulic system!

DOUGLAS: Oooh, what fun!

MARTIN: Right. Er, right, right. Erm, No. 1 hydraulic system lost. Uh . . . no special procedures! "Notes: lack of rudder will reduce max crosswind limit to 25 knots."

DOUGLAS: Won't it just! Arthur, break the emergency glass! I require my Biggles hat.

MARTIN: Douglas, this is serious!

DOUGLAS: [beep] Douz tower, this is Golf Tango India, we've lost our No. 1 hydraulic system, no operational effects, we continue to make our approach.

DOUZ ATC: Roger that, Golf Tango India. We'll have the fire truck on standby.

DOUGLAS: You're quite the little ray of sunshine, aren't you, Tower? [beep] (bing-bong!) Hello Carolyn, this is the pointy end. Just to let you know I'll be landing today without No. 1 hydro.

CAROLYN: WHAT? Why?

DOUGLAS: Oh, I don't know, just to see if I can. All right, everyone, hang on, we're going in!

MARTIN: I have control.

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: I have control. I have control! Control, I have it!

DOUGLAS: Martin, you gave me this sector, and I'm well within my limits—

MARTIN: I know, I know, I'm sorry, but we can't be too careful.

DOUGLAS: Too careful?

MARTIN: [forcefully] I have control.

DOUGLAS: How do you mean, "too careful"?

MARTIN: [firmly] Douglas. I have control.

DOUGLAS: . . . you have control.


[On the tarmac in Douz.]

MARTIN: . . . and shutdown checks complete. [Breathes a sigh of relief.]

DOUGLAS: Well done, Captain.

[Flight deck door opens.]

CAROLYN: Good lord, Douglas. You made a right old meal of that, didn't you?

DOUGLAS: Not really.

CAROLYN: What? You did two go-arounds, then you finally slammed it onto the ground like you were trying to wipe out the dinosaurs.

DOUGLAS: Oh, I'm not denying a right old meal was made of it, but I was not the chef du jour. Captain Crieff kindly took control.

CAROLYN: What? Martin landed it? With a hydro failure and a crosswind? Martin, you get flustered trying to parallel-park! Why on earth would you take control?

MARTIN: I'm the senior pilot on board, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Yes, but Douglas is the better pilot on board. You do see how "better" trumps "senior", don't you?

MARTIN: For your information, a firm landing is generally the safest.

CAROLYN: If that landing had been any safer it would've killed us.

DOUGLAS: You know what they say—a good landing's any landing you can walk away from. A great landing is one where they can re-use the plane.

ARTHUR: Mum, I was just taking a look outside and, um . . . the company who sub-contracted to us, are they called Panda Charters?

CAROLYN: Yes, why?

ARTHUR: And they're hiring us because they have a tech failure?

CAROLYN: Yes, why?

ARTHUR: Look over there. It looks like quite a big tech failure.

CAROLYN: Good lord.

DOUGLAS: That is a very broken plane.

ARTHUR: Do they have hyenas in the Sahara?

MARTIN: Not big enough to attack 737s, but I take your point.

[A pause while everyone digests this piece of information.]

CAROLYN: Well, let's turn this 'round as quickly as possible. I'll be back in an hour, and watch out for anyone trying to steal our engines.

DOUGLAS: Have no fear! Martin will be in control throughout.

[CAROLYN opens the door to be greeted by, if it was at all possible, the sounds of the sizzling Sahara at high noon.]

CAROLYN: Whew!

ARTHUR: Are you all right, mum?

CAROLYN: Gosh, it's hot!

DOUGLAS: Ah! Sahara not only brilliant, but hot! I see where Arthur gets his way with words.


[Back in the flight deck.]

MARTIN: So . . . they're officially the national cricket team?

DOUGLAS: Apparently. Of Scotland.

MARTIN: Didn't think Scots played cricket.

DOUGLAS: It seems at least eleven of them do.

MARTIN: And the Scotland-Tunisia cricket match, is that a regular thing?

DOUGLAS: A hotly-contested Hiberno-African derby, I've no doubt.

[A buzz, then the click of a camera.]

MARTIN: What are you doing now, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Oh, nothing! You two carry on. Act natural.

DOUGLAS: Why are you taking our pictures?

ARTHUR: Mum's reprinting our company brochure, and she said I could have a go at taking the picture of the cover.

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, does that mean we're losing the current one?

MARTIN: The one with Carolyn strangling a customer?

DOUGLAS: I always thought that summed up MJN Air rather well.

ARTHUR: She's adjusting his pillow! . . . But yeah, it does look a bit strangle-y.

[There is a knock at the flight deck door, which then opens.]

DOUGLAS: Hello?

HABIB: Hello, captain. Compliments of the airfield manager and would you please be able to settle the bill?

MARTIN: Yeah, actually I'm the captain. Hello, the one in the captain's seat wearing the captain's hat?

HABIB: Sorry, captain. Compliments of the—

MARTIN: Yes, all right, give it here. [Flips pages] Yes, fine, fine . . . what's this?

HABIB: Um . . . fire truck.

MARTIN: Yes, I can read what it says. What does it mean?

[Another click of the camera.]

DOUGLAS: Really, Arthur? The front page of MJN's brochure, our gallant captain quibbles over a bill?

MARTIN: I'm not quibbling, Douglas, it says three hundred dollars here for a fire truck!

HABIB: I don't know, it's not usual.

DOUGLAS: Oh really? [lowers voice] You know, Martin, these little airfields do rather try things on sometimes if they suspect you're not . . .

MARTIN: What? Not what?

DOUGLAS: Oh . . . nothing.

HABIB: Would you like to speak to the airfield manager, sir?

MARTIN: Yes, yes I would. I'll show him whether or not I'm . . . that.


[In the airfield manager's office. MARTIN knocks on the door, then enters.]

AIRFIELD MANAGER: Entrez! Ah, you have.

MARTIN: Hello. Are you the airfield manager?

AIRFIELD MANAGER: I am, yes. Yves Jutteau, at your service. You must be the captain.

MARTIN: No, actually I'm the—oh. Yes. Martin Crieff.

YVES JUTTEAU: I am delighted to meet you.

MARTIN: Are you French?

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! My cover is blown. Originally, yes—you're not the only ones who used to have an empire, hein? Now, will you take café?

MARTIN: No, I don't want coffee.

YVES JUTTEAU: Oh, then café you shall not have. So, how can I help you?

MARTIN: It's this bill.

YVES JUTTEAU: Yes?

MARTIN: Well, firstly you're charging us for three hours on stand—we've only been here, what, one hour fifty-four?

YVES JUTTEAU: I regret we charge per hour. Or per part of per hour.

MARTIN: That's still only two hours.

YVES JUTTEAU: You're expecting to leave within the next six minutes? You'd better, if I may attempt an idiom, get your skates on? [Chuckles] But yes, by all means, between friends, let us call it two.

MARTIN: Thank you. Now, this weather report. Eighty dollars?

YVES JUTTEAU: Yes.

MARTIN: It's a very glossy folder—

YVES JUTTEAU: Thank you.

MARTIN: —containing one sheet of A4 printed off from Google Weather Maps!

YVES JUTTEAU: You would prefer two sheets?

MARTIN: Which says it's going to be hot!

YVES JUTTEAU: It is going to be hot.

MARTIN: D'you really think that's information worth eighty dollars?

YVES JUTTEAU: Without it, you cannot take off! So . . . I would say so. Anything else?

MARTIN: Yes, actually. Fire truck.

YVES JUTTEAU: Yes?

MARTIN: Well, what do you mean, "fire truck"?

YVES JUTTEAU: I can find no words that describe a fire truck better than "fire truck".

MARTIN: But why are we paying for it?

YVES JUTTEAU: Because you called it up! You radioed you were landing with a hydraulics failure. We mobilized the fire truck.

MARTIN: But we don't pay for that!

YVES JUTTEAU: Then who pays for that?

MARTIN: Nobody pays for that! It just happens!

YVES JUTTEAU: I don't know what your fire trucks do, Captain, but our fire trucks do not "just happen".

MARTIN: Oh, I suppose you think I'll believe anything, do you?

YVES JUTTEAU: I'm sure you will believe almost nothing. However, if you pass me the bill, I will send you an amended one.

MARTIN: You're taking off the fire truck?

YVES JUTTEAU: No, I'm taking off the third hour. The fire truck remains.

MARTIN: Right. Well, I've made my point, anyway.

YVES JUTTEAU: You've made it. I have disagreed with it; I'm going to do nothing about it.


[On the tarmac at Douz airfield. The Scottish national cricket team is singing rather loudly inside the minibus. Something about whiskey and a loch.]

CAROLYN: Gentlemen! Gentlemen! I don't mind the singing, but if you could possibly all keep to the inside of the minibus, that would be super!

RANDOM SCOT: On yer bike, hen!

CAROLYN: Thank you! A very spirited bunch, aren't they? I was expecting the Scottish cricket team to have a certain dour quality.

CAPT. JESSOP: Well, you can't blame them. They're just delighted to be getting home. We all are. Really, on behalf of my crew, I can't thank you enough. We are so, so grateful.

CAROLYN: Oh, [chuckles] thank you! Really, really there's no need.

CAPT. JESSOP: Oh, but there is! We can't get over it—it's so public-spirited of you! So generous!

CAROLYN: [slams on the brakes] What? How do you mean, "generous"? What's "generous"?

CAPT. JESSOP: Well, to come and rescue us like this.

CAROLYN: Well, it's my job, isn't it? I mean, I'm getting paid.

CAPT. JESSOP: Oh, really? Who by?

CAROLYN: What? By your firm, Panda Charters!

CAPT. JESSOP: Er . . . no, I don't think so. I mean, they went bust, you know. You did know that, didn't you?

CAROLYN: No, I did not. They omitted to mention it.

CAPT. JESSOP: That's why we're here. The airport manager wouldn't let us leave without paying our bill. Oh incidentally, don't cross him, whatever you do—he's a right bastard.


[Back in the flight deck.]

DOUGLAS: Ah, Martin. How did you get on?

MARTIN: Oh yes, pretty well. They're just sending out the new, amended, lower bill now.

DOUGLAS: Gosh, well done.

MARTIN: Oh, it's nothing really, just a matter of showing them who's in control. He's a nice enough fellow—really, he's just one of those little men who've got a little job and so have to spend the whole time proving they're just as good as anyone else, you know the type.

DOUGLAS: It rings a faint bell.

[CAROLYN enters.]

CAROLYN: Right! Come on then, let's get out of this hellhole! [camera click] ARTHUR WILL YOU PUT THAT DAMN THING AWAY BEFORE I MAKE YOU EAT IT!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum.

DOUGLAS: Everything tickety-boo, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: No, it's not. We're doing this whole damn trip for free! Panda Charters went bust! That's why their plane looks like that! The airfield manager stripped it of parts in lieu of payment.

DOUGLAS: Goodness, that's hard-core.

[The door opens again, this time more politely.]

HABIB: Excuse me, Monsieur Jutteau's compliments, and the revised bill.

MARTIN: Right! [Flips pages] A-ha! Two hours! See, not so hard-core as all that, not when stood up to.

DOUGLAS: And the fire truck?

MARTIN: [quickly] Doesn't matter about the fire truck.

CAROLYN: What about the fire truck?

MARTIN: Nothing! Doesn't matter. [To HABIB] Right, do you have a card reader, or . . .

DOUGLAS: Er, what's this? Safety infringement penalty: six hundred dollars?

MARTIN: Wha—What?!

HABIB: Yes, er, the manager anticipated you might like to talk to him about that. He is on the radio.

MARTIN: [switches the radio on] "Safety infringement"—what safety infringement?

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! Good afternoon, Captain Crieff. I hope you are enjoying your free hour?

MARTIN: Never mind about that—what's this about a "safety infringement"?

YVES JUTTEAU: Sadly, there was a small one.

MARTIN: What, it wasn't there on the last bill!

YVES JUTTEAU: Indeed not. But when you did me the honour of visiting my office to complain about the last bill, you crossed the apron, did you not?

MARTIN: Yes.

YVES JUTTEAU: And were you wearing the regulation yellow reflective safety vest?

MARTIN: I . . .

YVES JUTTEAU: Voila.

MARTIN: But it's a deserted airfield. In the middle of the day. In the Tunisian sunshine!

YVES JUTTEAU: Nevertheless, it is wise to be in good habits.

MARTIN: Well, we're not paying for it.

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! Then we have a problem.

MARTIN: Yes, we do.

CAROLYN: No, we don't.

MARTIN: Carolyn! I'm dealing with this—it's under control!

CAROLYN: Shut up, Martin. We're already thousands of pounds down on this trip; all I want to do is get home. Monsieur Jutteau, hello! So sorry about the misunderstanding. Yes, of course we'll pay the bill.

YVES JUTTEAU: Well, if you'll just give your credit card to Habib there—

[sounds of transaction]

MARTIN: Well, well done, m'sieu! It's a good week for you, isn't it? Bankrupted these guys, fleeced us—hope you feel really big now!

YVES JUTTEAU: "These guys"? The gentlemen from Panda Charters? They are with you?

MARTIN: Yes they are, poor sods, because you wrecked their business and pulled their plane to shreds—

CAROLYN: Martin, that is enough!

MARTIN: Hello? Are you listening to me?

YVES JUTTEAU: I'm sorry, I was just . . . arranging something . . .

CAROLYN: Hello? The payment's gone through.

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah, excellent. Thank you. Regrettably, though, as you are carrying Panda Charters's crew and passengers, I must hold you responsible for their debts. I'm afraid you may not leave until they are paid off.

MARTIN: Oh now, come on!

CAROLYN: How much?

YVES JUTTEAU: Twelve thousand three hundred and six dollars. But let us call it twelve thousand.

MARTIN: Yes, well, nice try, but that's entirely illegal.

YVES JUTTEAU: That's debatable.

MARTIN: Unfortunately we don't have time to debate it, must be off now, see you in court. Maybe.

YVES JUTTEAU: Of course, what is not debatable is whether it is illegal or not to take off without clearance from air traffic control. It definitely is.

MARTIN: Who's gonna stop us?

YVES JUTTEAU: No one is going to stop you. But when you get home, your national authorities (whom I would notify) would immediately suspend your operator's licence. [Suddenly there is the sound of trucks moving outside.] Also, I was playing for time. I am going to stop you. By parking the fire truck across your nose—although on the upside, this time I will not charge you for mobilizing it.

[The door opens.]

ARTHUR: Chaps, I was just taking a look outside, and—

CAROLYN, MARTIN, DOUGLAS: Yes, we know.


[In the passenger cabin.]

LACHLAN: Hey. [snaps fingers] Hey, pal!

ARTHUR: Yes, sir? How can myself be of assistance to yourself?

LACHLAN: When are we gettin' this thing moving? (RANDOM SCOT: Aye!)

ARTHUR: Ah. I do regret to inform yourselves that the delay that's going on currently is still currently ongoing. But we will keep you fully informed as to the developments of any developments as they develop.

LACHLAN: Eh?

CAPT. JESSOP: Well, how about breaking out the drinks trolley?

LACHLAN: [Chuckles] Heh, aye, nice one.

ARTHUR: Unfortunately no drinks service is scheduled at this time due to technical difficulties. We do apologize for any inconvenience.

[A collective grumbling from the Scottish National Cricket Team.]

LACHLAN: What technical difficulties stop you givin' out drinks?

ARTHUR: Mum's locked the cupboard.


[Back in the flight deck]

CAROLYN: [enters] All right, I've had a look. As well as the fire truck, he's put a tractor behind us and a baggage truck on each side.

DOUGLAS: Okay, so we can't go backwards or sideways.

MARTIN: Explain to me how we were planning to go sideways.

DOUGLAS: All right then, Captain, I'll just sit back and watch you masterfully sort it out, shall I?

CAROLYN: I don't have time for your stupid squabbles—this is serious.

MARTIN: Yes. Yes, you're right. We can find a way out of this. The most important thing is to keep cool. [On cue, the air conditioning shuts down.] What was that?

DOUGLAS: That was the air conditioning dying, Captain. But carry on—you were just telling us about the most important thing.

MARTIN: But why? Why? I mean, why? Why?

DOUGLAS: Four excellent questions. And the answer to all four is: because we've run out of fuel.

MARTIN: What? We can't have done! I mean, we'd just refueled!

[A furious knocking from the passenger cabin, with a yell of "Hey! What's happened to the air conditioning?"]

CAROLYN: [switches radio on] Monsieur Jutteau?

YVES JUTTEAU: Good afternoon.

CAROLYN: We seem to find ourselves a little light on fuel. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?

YVES JUTTEAU: Yes, we have retrieved our fuel from your aircraft in lieu of payment.

CAROLYN: Monsieur. Without fuel our air conditioning unit will not work!

YVES JUTTEAU: Oh dear me. What an unintended consequence. May I suggest, then, that you work fast to resolve the situation? The temperature is currently 35 degrees—that's in the shade, not in a metal tube in direct sunlight.


MARTIN: All right. All right, Carolyn, I've been looking at the chart. There's an airstrip at Kebili only about 20 miles away. If we could just get as far as there we could refuel properly.

CAROLYN: Well that's great. Problem solved! All we need now is enough fuel to get there, our enemy to give us takeoff clearance, and for that fire truck to disappear. It's simple.

[The door opens to the sound of the Scottish national cricket team cheering, bottles clanking, and ARTHUR stumbling in, with the door hitting him]

ARTHUR: (I'll tell them! O—Ow!) The passengers have a few requests.

CAROLYN: What?

ARTHUR: Um, well, more beer. They were very clear about that. Look, to make sure I remember they wrote it on . . . me.

MARTIN: Oh yes, so they did.

ARTHUR: Yeah. So beer, definitely; um, water, some of them are keen on; uh, and . . . an umpire.

MARTIN: An umpire?

ARTHUR: Yes.

MARTIN: Why do they need an—

[A slam, then a cheer from the Scots.]

ARTHUR: Ah, they started without.

CAROLYN: All right!

ARTHUR: Mum! Mum, you can't go in there.

CAROLYN: Why not?

ARTHUR: They're . . . they're in their swimming trunks.

CAROLYN: In their swimming trunks?

ARTHUR: Yes, it's got really hot in there . . . and in here. I mean, it's just hot generally. I think it's because we're so near the Sahara Desert.

CAROLYN: Yes, all right. Very well. Martin, you and Do—where is Douglas, anyway?

[The sound of breaking glass, and a yell of "HOWZAT?" from DOUGLAS in the passenger cabin, to applause.]

CAROLYN: (bing bong!) Douglas, I wish to have a little word. Under the wing. Now.

[A chorus of Ooooohs from the passenger cabin.]


[Outside]

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, what can I do for you?

CAROLYN: What are we going to do?

DOUGLAS: I don't know. What are we going to do?

CAROLYN: No, seriously, what are we going to do?

DOUGLAS: I really don't know.

CAROLYN: Of course you know!

DOUGLAS: You've slightly lost me.

CAROLYN: You always know! You've always got some sort of trick or loophole or knows someone who knows someone! What is it this time?

DOUGLAS: No, really, this time I'm stumped. But don't you worry, Martin's in control—I have no doubt he'll come up with something.

CAROLYN: I thought so. This is all because Martin took the landing off you, isn't it? So now you're not going to help?

DOUGLAS: Martin needs no help from the humble likes of I. Martin is—

CAROLYN: Oh stop it! Just stop it, will you? I need you to get us out of this. This is serious!

DOUGLAS: No it isn't! As it happens I don't even have the answer. I mean, the fire truck's easy enough, but not the rest of it. But in any case we both know that if you really want to get away, you can.

CAROLYN: How?

DOUGLAS: By swallowing your pride and paying the man!

CAROLYN: What with?!

DOUGLAS: With a little tiny bit of all your money!

CAROLYN: I don't have any money!

DOUGLAS: Oh, don't be ridiculous. I've seen your house, I've seen your car. I am currently standing underneath your aeroplane.

CAROLYN: I had money. Eight years ago I had money after the divorce. More money than I knew what to do with. And as you say, an aeroplane. More aeroplane than I knew what to do with. But then I started to run an air charter business. Now I have three mortgages on the house! I have to keep the car because I have to have something smart to pick clients up in, and I have to keep the plane because—well, the minimum number of planes for a viable airline is one. But I don't have any money. Why do you think I'm always going on at you two for how much you spend—do you think I enjoy it?

DOUGLAS: Well, yes.

CAROLYN: Yes, well, all right, I do a bit. But also literally every trip we do has the potential to bankrupt the company, and this one could bankrupt me.

DOUGLAS: Gosh. I had no idea.

CAROLYN: No. Well.

DOUGLAS: But if you've been losing all this money, why have you kept on doing it all these years?

CAROLYN: Because I am the Chief Executive Officer of MJN Air. It's a good thing to be. It's better than . . . [sighs] a little old lady.

DOUGLAS: I see.

CAROLYN: So, will you please return to the aircraft, put on the rest of your clothes, sit down nicely with Martin, and think of something.

DOUGLAS: Right you are.

CAROLYN: Oh, and Douglas? Your solution to the fire truck? You're not thinking "set fire to the manager's office so it has to move", are you?

DOUGLAS: I wasn't, no, but I am now—you up for that?

CAROLYN: No!


MARTIN: Douglas, that's—that's a terrific idea! Would it work?

DOUGLAS: It worked when old G.W. and I did it with that snowplow in Vancouver, but I don't really see how it helps us, I'm afraid—we still won't have any fuel, and we still won't have clearance to take off.

ARTHUR: Could we go and get fuel in jerry cans and bring it back here?

DOUGLAS: If we had about eight years, yes.

ARTHUR: We can't steal back the fuel he took off us.

DOUGLAS: I'm sure he's locked it away somewhere.

MARTIN: Besides, it no longer meets the quality criteria.

DOUGLAS: Martin, that really doesn't matter. I think we can give ourselves licence to bend the rules just a tiny bit in this situation.

MARTIN: [scoffs] Like you need an excuse! The man who hasn't bought a gallon of petrol since—oh.

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: Well, just a thought—if you could feed a rabbit on a tiny bit of cheetah food, can you feed a cheetah on lots of rabbit food?

DOUGLAS: Oh! You mean—

MARTIN: What do you think?

DOUGLAS: Yes. I like it!

ARTHUR: Yeah. That might. Just. Work.

MARTIN: What might?

ARTHUR: I don't know. I just. Like. Talking like this.

DOUGLAS: It's a great idea, Martin, but it'll only give us a couple of dozen litres at most. We couldn't even fly the 20 miles to Kebili on that, even if we had clearance.

[A pause as everyone mulls over this snag in an otherwise perfect plan.]

ARTHUR: Could we just drive there?

MARTIN: No!

ARTHUR: . . . Sorry, Skipper.

MARTIN: Sorry, Arthur, I know you're trying to help, but no, we can't just taxi our plane out onto the main road and drive it 20 miles to Kebili!

DOUGLAS: Why can't we?

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: The deserted main road—straight road through the desert—

MARTIN: No, we couldn't! . . . Could we?

DOUGLAS: Arthur! You know what you are? In a word?

ARTHUR: Yeah.

DOUGLAS: Brilliant.

ARTHUR: Oh!


[The cabin door opens, and the Scottish National Cricket Team cheers]

DOUGLAS: All right, boys, Martin and I have done the sneaky bit, and I don't think anyone saw. Now, the less sneaky bit, which people will see. So it's all about speed—we get out, we do it, we get back in. Understand?

THE SCOTS: Aye!

DOUGLAS: Are you ready?

THE SCOTS: Aye!

DOUGLAS: Then onwards for England, Harry and St George!

THE SCOTS: Boo!

DOUGLAS: Sorry, sorry, sorry. For Scotland, cricket, and St . . . Wisden.

[The SCOTS cheer]


[The team + DOUGLAS and MARTIN pile out of the plane and rush to the trucks.]

DOUGLAS: Places, places! Okay, remember—bend from the knees and not from the back. And three, two, one, lift! [the sound of machinery creaking from the collective effort of the S.N.C.T.] . . . Yes! It's coming, it's coming! . . . Yes, and . . . Carry, carry . . . bit more, nearly there, nearly there . . . and drop! [Crash!]

AIRPORT WORKER: Hey! Heeeeeeeey!

DOUGLAS: Back on the plane, back on the plane! Go! Go! Go! Go!


MARTIN: [out of breath] Engine bleeds on, auxiliary power off—

DOUGLAS: Martin, we don't have time for the checks.

YVES JUTTEAU: [over the radio] Golf Tango India, what do you think you're doing?

DOUGLAS: Hello there, Douz tower. Sorry about this, love to stay but we've just remembered a pressing engagement.

YVES JUTTEAU: You cannot take off! You are forbidden from taking off!

MARTIN: Duly noted. I'm afraid your little fire truck was slightly in our way. Hope you don't mind us moving it.

YVES JUTTEAU: And how far do you think you'll get with no fuel?

CAROLYN: [innocently] No fuel?

MARTIN: Whatever gave you that idea?

CAROLYN: We’ve got fuel.

YVES JUTTEAU: How?

MARTIN: Let's just say next time you want to starve an aircraft of fuel don't surround it with four petrol-driven vehicles.

YVES JUTTEAU: You . . . you stole the petrol from my trucks?!

DOUGLAS: As the voice recorder in this flight deck will forever record for posterity: Absolutely not! . . . Wouldn't it have been clever if we had, though?

YVES JUTTEAU: It doesn't matter. You do not have clearance! Repeat, do not have clearance to take off!

DOUGLAS: Take off?

MARTIN: Who said anything about taking off?

CAROLYN: Wouldn't dream of it! Against the law, you know.

DOUGLAS: Plus we've nothing like enough fuel to get us there! . . . In the air.

MARTIN: On the ground, though—

CAROLYN: Taxiing down the long, straight, deserted highway to Kebili—

DOUGLAS: We should be fine!

MARTIN: Right hand down a bit, Number One! And be sure to indicate when joining the road.

DOUGLAS: Right hand down a bit it is, Captain!

YVES JUTTEAU: You CAN'T take that on the road! It's . . . it's against the law.

DOUGLAS: Is it? I'm not sure it is. What do you think, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: It might be. Not very well up on the Tunisian Highway Code.

DOUGLAS: Well, I'll tell you what, Yves old chum, if you can get the Sahara Desert traffic police mobilized in the next forty minutes or so, I suppose we'll find out. Bye-eee. [switches radio off]

MARTIN: Do they drive on the left, or the right in Tunisia?

DOUGLAS: I think when they're driving on an empty highway through the desert in an aeroplane, they probably drive pretty much wherever the hell they like.


[Back in the passenger cabin, the Scottish National Cricket Team, drunk on booze, air-conditioning, and adrenaline, could be heard mangling the lyrics to "The Self-Preservation Society".]

DOUGLAS: Two miles to go, Martin.

MARTIN: Thank you, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Do you want me to drive for a bit, darling?

MARTIN: No thanks, dear. You know I get carsick in the passenger seat. Are they ready for us in Kebili?

DOUGLAS: They are.

[The flight deck door bursts open and a drunk ARTHUR stumbles in.]

DOUGLAS and MARTIN: Arthur!

ARTHUR: [giddily] Today . . . has been the most fun . . . I have ever had . . . in my life!

DOUGLAS: Good. Arthur, is it possible you've had a little drink?

ARTHUR: I have had . . . a little drink. Oh, and look! I think I've found the photo for the brochure!

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes? Let's see. . . . Ah. Martin?

MARTIN: Hmm, striking.

DOUGLAS: So, Arthur. In your quest to find the one image which perfectly sums up MJN Air and everything it stands for, you've elected for a shot of twelve Scottish cricketers in the Sahara Desert wearing swimsuits and carrying a fire engine.

ARTHUR: Yes.

DOUGLAS: Hmm. The awful thing is, I sort of know what you mean.

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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:12 am

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Cabin Pressure 1x05 - Edinburgh

(bing bong)

MARTIN: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Apologies to those of you who have been watching the in-flight entertainment this evening, unfortunately a mechanical fault seems to have developed and I’m afraid we will not be able to bring you the last half hour of our feature presentation. However, as luck would have it, I happened to see this film a couple of days ago, and I’m happy to tell you that the bald guy was in the pay of the mob all along and that woman from The West Wing shot Bill Paxton, but they caught her in the end, I hope that helps.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OPENING CREDITS - This week, Edinburgh!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CAROLYN: . . . and lastly, your roster for the next two weeks. On the eighteenth you’re going to Oslo to pick up a CFO-

ARTHUR: Wow! What, for government scientists to study?

CAROLYN: CFO Arthur, not UFO. Then nothing til the twenty fourth when I’m afraid you’re taking a stag do to Rome.

(groans)

CAROLYN: Yes I know, I know, they bring us three millennia of art, culture and architecture, we bring them thirteen city boys to throw up on it. It is heartbreaking.

ARTHUR: Where did you go for your stag night Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Which one?

MARTIN: Any of them.

DOUGLAS: Oh the first one was the best. Soho 1977, with my brother, Jeffrey Bernard, Peter Cook, and a Kink.

CAROLYN: What’s a Kink?

DOUGLAS: One of The Kinks.

MARTIN: Which one?

DOUGLAS: Oh I know nothing about pop music, whichever one it is that can fit three golf balls in his mouth.

CAROLYN: Anyway. After Rome, a little treat, because guess what’s happening on the twenty eighth?

DOUGLAS: Ah, the six nations final!

ARTHUR: Birling Day!

CAROLYN: Indeed it is!

DOUGLAS: Yes!

MARTIN: What?

CAROLYN: Ah, of course - you hadn’t joined us by last Birling Day had you?

MARTIN: What’s Birling Day?

DOUGLAS: Mr Birling is a retired gentleman who lives in an enormous house in Sussex with his enormous pile of money and his enormous wife. And his big treat is that once a year he hires us to take him to the six nations rugby final, wherever it is - where is it this year Carolyn?

CAROLYN: Edinburgh.

DOUGLAS: Where he proceeds to get heroically sloshed and spends the rest of the year sleeping it off.

MARTIN: Right, so what’s so special about that?

DOUGLAS: Oh, no reason, it’s just fun after a year of CFOs and stag dos to take a nice old boy out on a spree.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DOUGLAS: All right Arthur, nearly there.

MARTIN: Why do we all have to pick him up anyway?

DOUGLAS: It’s just a little courtesy Mr Birling likes, that’s all.

MARTIN: I’ve never seen you like this with a client Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Ah, well Mr B is something special.

(door opening)

MR BIRLING: My dear boys, my dear boys, cometh the hour, cometh the men, the magnificent men in their flying machines no less.

ARTHUR: Hello Mr Birling!

MR BIRLING: Arthur my dear boy, how are you? Now, hope you’ve been brushing up on your rugby since we last met!

ARTHUR: Oh yes, ask me anything!

MR BIRLING: Who won the last grand slam?

ARTHUR: France!

MR BIRLING: What colour do Italy play in?

ARTHUR: Red!

MR BIRLING: How many points for a conversion?

ARTHUR: Three!

MR BIRLING: Excellent, very good.

ARTHUR: How many did I get right?

MR BIRLING: Not a single one, but weren’t you quick!

ARTHUR: I was quick!

MR BIRLING: Like lightning dear boy, absolute lightning - and a new face I see?

DOUGLAS: Mr Birling, may I introduce Martin Crieff.

MR BIRLING: Hello there my little man. Now, Crieff, Crieff, any relation to Jolyon Crieff?

MARTIN: I doubt it.

MR BIRLING: Ah, but one never knows, one never knows.

MARTIN: One never does, but one can have a fairly strong hunch that no one in one’s family has ever been called Jolyon.

MR BIRLING: Oh you’re quite right of course, my chap was a Moncrieff. Like Algernon. In Earnest. Do you know your Wilde my boy?

MARTIN: I’m wild? In what sense?

MR BIRLING: No, no, Oscar Wilde - dear me Douglas, you seem to have landed yourself a bit of a chump.

MARTIN: (splutters) I beg your pardon?

MR BIRLING: Oh granted my little man, granted, no doubt you’re a valued alumnus of the University of Life - or possibly Exeter . . .

MARTIN: What?!

MR BIRLING: Douglas old man I take it congratulations are in order, final return to the Captain’s seat, of which you have been such an ornament for so long.

DOUGLAS: No, no - still in the er, co-pilot’s seat. But, still terribly ornamental!

MR BIRLING: Hmm. You don’t mean that - that this young man’s the captain?

MARTIN: Yes, that’s right, does that concern you?

MR BIRLING: Oh not in the least, I’m all for youth opportunities, I was just thinking what er, an awful slap in the face it must be for Dougie here?

DOUGLAS: Oh no, not really.

MR BIRLING: Oh but yes, yes really, I mean do you have to do everything he says?

DOUGLAS: Well-

MR BIRLING: Arthur! My boy, are you still going around with that delightful girl with the squint?

ARTHUR: No.

MR BIRLING: Did she say she couldn’t see you any more?

ARTHUR: Yes, she did.

MR BIRLING: Yes, I have to admit I prepared that one in advance. I was dreading that you might still be together so I couldn’t use it.

ARTHUR: Well we’re not.

MR BIRLING: Well it wasn’t a big risk I’ll admit. Just look at you! Right, that’s enough pleasantries I think, shall we go?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ARTHUR: But now I’ve got a new way of remembering, because Ireland wear green, because shamrocks are green, Scotland wear blue, ‘cause it’s cold in Scotland, England wear red, ‘cause the flag’s red, white and blue-

DOUGLAS: England wear white.

ARTHUR: Oh yeah, England wear white, ‘cause the flag’s red, white and blue, France-

DOUGLAS: -yes, jolly good. Martin, Mr B’s all settled and I’ve got the weather for you.

MARTIN: Never mind the weather, what was all that?!

DOUGLAS: All what?

MARTIN: That astonishing display of synchronised sycophancy.

DOUGLAS: Oh very good, have you been working on that for a while?

MARTIN: You said he was a nice old boy, he’s a horrible old boy!

ARTHUR: What, Mr B? No!

DOUGLAS: It’s just his way Martin, a little harmless joshing.

MARTIN: He called you a failed criminal and Arthur a repulsive halfwit!

ARTHUR: -and you-

MARTIN: - I know what he called me, now how is that harmless joshing?

DOUGLAS: Well, I think for someone from his background it’s-

MARTIN: Oh I see, I know what this is, it doesn’t matter how nasty he is, so long as he went to a jolly good public school like you two.

DOUGLAS: Oh now that’s not fair at all! Arthur went to a ghastly public school.

ARTHUR: It’s true, I did. I mean once, I was top in my year. Me!

MARTIN: Well, for the duration of the trip, could we all please try to have a little professional dignity, and not go all gooey just because a man in an embroidered waistcoat calls us “dear boys”.

DOUGLAS: He didn’t call you a dear boy, he called you a little man.

ARTHUR: Martin, you don’t understand though-

DOUGLAS: He understands perfectly Arthur.

MARTIN: Hang on, hang on, I know that tone of voice, what are you trying to stop Arthur from telling me?

DOUGLAS: I wouldn’t dream of trying to-

MARTIN: Arthur!

ARTHUR: Well I was just gonna say - what about the tips!

MARTIN: Oh, I see . . .

DOUGLAS: Now look-

MARTIN: Now it begins to make sense, big tipper is he, how nice! So he can treat you how he likes so long as he pays you off at the end of it, how very dignified.

DOUGLAS: It’s not like that.

MARTIN: How much does he give you then, go on.

DOUGLAS: It’s not, it’s not a question of how much-

MARTIN: Come on . . .

DOUGLAS: Well if you must know, last year, he gave us five hundred pounds each.

MARTIN: Oh. Very nice.

ARTHUR: Yeah, but that was unusual-

DOUGLAS: True, that was because England won. We can’t expect that to happen this year.

ARTHUR: Oh, aren’t England good any more?

DOUGLAS: Not good enough to win a match between Wales and France, certainly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MARTIN: Oh alright, let’s get - oh hello.

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, a flight deck visit, what a nice surprise.

CAROLYN: Really? Is it really such a surprise to see me on Birling Day?

DOUGLAS: Perhaps not.

CAROLYN: Perhaps indeed not, open your flight bag.

DOUGLAS: If you insist.

(unzipping of a bag)

MARTIN: What’s going on?

DOUGLAS: It’s a Birling Day tradition, a little contest Carolyn and I have . . . and that I win.

CAROLYN: It’s not a tradition, or a contest, it is systematic theft. You see Martin, Mr Birling is partial to twenty five year old Talisker single malt whisky-

DOUGLAS: - as am I.

CAROLYN: - as is Douglas, the difference being of course, that Mr Birling is a paying and valued customer, whilst Douglas is merely a sneaky thieving pilot.

MARTIN: You drink his whisky on the trip?

DOUGLAS: No of course not! I steal his whisky on the trip and drink it later.

CAROLYN: Well, not this time. Philip! Arthur! Come in here! You know Philip from the fire crew don’t you?

DOUGLAS: Course, good morning Philip.

PHILIP: Hello Mr Richardson.

CAROLYN: Good. Philip - frisk him. Properly.

PHILIP: Sorry about this Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Quite all right.

PHILIP: Erm, what am I looking for?

CAROLYN: Tubes, reservoirs, bottles strapped to his legs, anything that can hold liquid. Now, let’s see what we have in your flight bag. Hip flask, an obvious decoy - still - (unscrewing flask) ah! Water. Thought so. A shampoo bottle - for coloured hair. Surely you’re not tinting Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Oh! Does coloured mean dyed? I thought it just meant full of colour.

CAROLYN: Yes, of course you did. Well, that seems to be shampoo. And - what’s this? Nail varnish?

MARTIN: Nail varnish?

DOUGLAS: Well go on, sniff it, it is nail varnish.

CAROLYN: (sniffs) Yes, yes it is. What do you want nail varnish for?

DOUGLAS: If you must know, I find it prevents cracking and splitting.

MARTIN: Well, I had no idea you were such a pretty pilot Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Anyway, are you satisfied Carolyn?

CAROLYN: For now, yes. But let me tell you this, fingers - on your return, Philip here will be once more frisking you with digits dextrous with practise, and I shall be going through your flight bag with the very finest of tooth combs. And if any of these things have magically transformed from water, shampoo and nail varnish (Martin giggling) into twenty five year old scotch, I shall know about it. Now then, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Yes Mum?

CAROLYN: I have here, thirteen little miniature bottles of Talisker: guard them with your life. When it’s time to give Mr Birling another whisky, you take one of these and a fresh glass, you open it in front of him, listening for the crack of the seal breaking like so: (crack) and you pour it out for him with one hand.

ARTHUR: Why only one hand?

CAROLYN: Because with the other hand, you will be most likely be fighting off the yogi bear of the drinks trolley, First Officer Richardson. (clinking bottles) Here they are. Except you can’t give him this one, the seal’s been broken. Would er, anybody like to try it? Oh, hahaha, what am I thinking you’re all about to go on duty, what a terrible shame. Oh well, cheers! (drinking) Oh - that is terribly good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(bing bong)

ARTHUR: (over intercom) Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to - well, gentlemen. Well, gentleman. Well, Mr Birling. Hello Mr Birling!

MR BIRLING: Hello Arthur.

ARTHUR: Ooh, hello! Er, anyway, welcome aboard. Er, the captain has now at this time disilluminated the seatbelt signs-

MR BIRLING: Yes, I saw.

ARTHUR: -er, right, so you can if you wish, avail yourself of the opportunity to disengage your seatbelt at this moment in time.

MR BIRLING: Never did it up in the first place, I’m not a girl.

ARTHUR: Right. Actually I like doing it like this, it’s more like a chat isn’t it?

MR BIRLING: It is. The snag being of course that the last thing I want from you is a chat. Whereas the first thing I want is another whisky.

ARTHUR: Ah, righto!

(footsteps, the crack of a bottle opening and the sound of a drink being poured)

MR BIRLING: Mmm, yum yum!

ARTHUR: Mr B? What did you mean before when you said you weren’t surprised about Fliss and me breaking up?

MR BIRLING: Well, she was from a good family wasn’t she?

ARTHUR: I liked them.

MR BIRLING: There you are then! Even if she didn’t get fed up with you, which frankly she surely did, doubtless her people put their foot down.

ARTHUR: Why?

MR BIRLING: Well, for a start, you’re twenty eight, you have a ridiculous job and you still live with your mother.

ARTHUR: Well, yeah, but not in the “ooh, still lives with his mother” way people are thinking when they laugh about it, I just live with her because we get on really well, like friends, so why pay rent?

MR BIRLING: That is precisely what people are thinking when they laugh about it!

ARTHUR: So, you don’t think anyone will want to be with me?

MR BIRLING: Well Arthur, what it really boils down to is, I’m bored of talking about this now, when do I get to visit the flight deck?

ARTHUR: I’ll - I’ll go and see.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MARTIN: London good afternoon, this is Golf Echo Romeo Tango India, maintaining flight level two-five-zero, direct, pole hill.

ATC: (over comms) Roger Golf Tango India, maintain two-five-zero.

ARTHUR: (despondently) Hello. Would you like your coffee yet?

MARTIN: Arthur? What’s the matter?

ARTHUR: Nothing . . . just wondered if you wanted your coffee.

DOUGLAS: And the thought reminded you of your cousin Vladimir, who died in a coffee mine?

ARTHUR: No I’m fine, I’ll go and get it. Oh and Mr Birling was wondering if he can come up to the flight deck yet.

DOUGLAS: Of course, of course, send the old boy up.

MARTIN: What, no, of course not! What’s got into you both, you know the law!

ARTHUR: Yeah but - it’s Mr Birling, he always visits-

MARTIN: Oh I see, I wasn’t aware that the air navigation order finished quote: “unless of course he went to the right school and is liable to tip you half a grand at the end of the flight” unquote.

ARTHUR: Ah, but that was only because England won-

MARTIN: Fine, a hundred quid, so much the more reason not to disregard- what the-

(flight deck door opening)

MR BIRLING: Hello, I got bored waiting so I thought what I’d do was just assume it would be fine.

MARTIN: (spluttering) Well I’m, I’m, I’m sorry sir but it’s not! CAA regulations and EUK law forbid any non crew member on the flight deck during the flight!

MR BIRLING: Oh nonsense, sort this out Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Erm, I’m very sorry Mr Birling, but if the captain insists there’s nothing I can do.

MR BIRLING: Oh dear, I was right it is humiliating. You must feel totally emasculated.

MARTIN: Sir, will you please return to your seat.

MR BIRLING: All right, all right. You mustn’t expect much of a tip from me though I’m afraid.

DOUGLAS: Can I just emphasise that this is entirely the captain’s decision-

MR BIRLING: Yes, yes, I get the point but the fact remains Dougie: I’m not enjoying myself. What should we do about that?

DOUGLAS: Well. How about if I came back with you, showed you the flight plan, the charts, the weather maps?

MR BIRLING: Ah, yes, that might help.

MARTIN: (mumbling) Why not get on your hands and knees and let him use you as a footstool.

MR BIRLING: Oh, and bring your hat. I like wearing your hat. Though it’s not as good as your captain’s hat - well, I need hardly tell you that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MARTIN: (on the phone) All right, thank you. (to Mr Birling) I do apologise sir, but they assure me the limo is on its way, and will be with us momentarily.

MR BIRLING: Well, I don’t suppose it will be here “momentarily”.

MARTIN: I’m sure it will sir.

MR BIRLING: No, I mean it’s not going to wink into existence beside us for a moment and then disappear is it?

MARTIN: (sighing) No, no it’s not.

MR BIRLING: And yet, curiously if it did, we would still be one up on our current situation.

MARTIN: As I say sir, I apologise.

MR/ BIRLING: Is that it?

MARTIN: Yes.

MR BIRLING: The other two have explained to you, I hope, that I’m rather a generous tipper.

MARTIN: They did mention it, yes.

MR BIRLING: But that the level of my tips depends entirely on the quality of the um - well I was going to say customer service, but let’s be straight with one another - the toadying I receive.

MARTIN: I gathered that. But I’m afraid sir, that I like to think of myself as not quite so easily bought.

MR BIRLING: Ah well, I see, I see. Then I shall see you after the match. Oh and for avoidance of doubt, it occurs to me that in a fairytale, I would be so impressed by your failure to be bought I would at the end of the trip give you an even bigger tip than anyone else. What you should know about me though, is that I like being toadied to, and I pay people to do it, so you won’t be getting a sausage. Cheerio!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(cheery ringtone)

ARTHUR: (despondent) Hello, Arthur Shappey?

CAROLYN: (over phone) Hello witless, it’s your mother.

ARTHUR: Ah, hello Mum. How are you?

CAROLYN: Too busy to tell you. How is it going? Did you get there on time? Is Mr Birling happy?

ARTHUR: Yeah, it’s all fine. Martin’s showing Mr B to his limo . . . Douglas and I are going to watch the match in the plane . . . Mr Birling says I’ll never find another girlfriend.

CAROLYN: Oh. Well, Mr Birling, the seventy something retiree from Sussex, is of course one of the country’s foremost relationship experts.

ARTHUR: Oh no, is he, I didn’t even know that!

CAROLYN: But what he doesn’t know, that we know, is the peculiar and unaccountable pull you have over bossy pony club types with Alice bands and stupid names.

ARTHUR: Yeah, I do have that don’t I? Like Minty. And Libbett. And Pobs!

CAROLYN: Oh no, please don’t list them. Sounds like you’re brainstorming names for a Labrador puppy. Look where are you anyway? You sound as if you’re in a wind tunnel.

ARTHUR: Oh I er, just popped onto the roof of the plane.

CAROLYN: The roof?! What the hell are you doing up there?

ARTHUR: Well the picture on the rugby went all funny so Douglas said I should shin up onto the roof and twiddle the aerial. Only now I’m here I can’t seem to find it . . .

CAROLYN: Oh you idiot boy. This is "go and water the window boxes" all over again isn’t it?

ARTHUR: Ohhhhhhhh.

CAROLYN: Yes, “ohhhhhhh”. Douglas is just trying to make a fool of you. Though one would have thought that the fish in that particular barrel had been shot long ago. Get down immediately, and make sure you don’t break any of those miniatures.

ARTHUR: Miniatures?

CAROLYN: What? Arthur? Do not tell me that you left Douglas with the miniatures-

ARTHUR: No, no, I’ve got them here with me - it’s all fine.

CAROLYN: Then why did you start to say “the miniatures” then?

ARTHUR: Er, I didn’t.

CAROLYN: Oh you did, I heard you!

ARTHUR: No! I was just - singing to myself.

CAROLYN: Singing? What were you singing?

ARTHUR: The miniature . . . walked through the door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(sounds of a rugby game on telly, door opening)

DOUGLAS: Oh well done Arthur, you did the trick, look.

ARTHUR: I didn’t find the aerial.

DOUGLAS: Oh? Well you must have knocked it by accident or something.

ARTHUR: I don’t even think there is an aerial up there.

DOUGLAS: All right, you’ve got me. It was a bit of a joke. Still, nice to get some fresh air and exercise eh?

ARTHUR: Douglas? Mum was just wondering - while I was up there - you didn’t steal the posh whisky did you?

DOUGLAS: Arthur! Would I do a thing like that?

ARTHUR: You’ve done it on every single Birling Day so far.

DOUGLAS: Well not this one! Your mother’s been too clever for me, go and check!

(sounds of Arthur clinking bottles)

ARTHUR: They’re all still here.

DOUGLAS: Exactly!

ARTHUR: And they’re full. But maybe you swapped them for tea or something.

DOUGLAS: Well even if I did, how would I get it off the plane? But if you’re worried, see if the seal’s broken.

ARTHUR: How?

DOUGLAS: Pick one at random.

ARTHUR: Right.

DOUGLAS: And open it up. (cracking of bottle seal) There you are! Still virgo intacto. Well, not any more of course, you can‘t serve him that one - shall I take it off your hands?

ARTHUR: No!

DOUGLAS: Fine, be like that. Now, come on - Wales are five points up.

(someone scores, Douglas and Arthur cheering, door opening and Martin enters)

MARTIN: God, he is insufferable.

DOUGLAS: What, old Mr B, no he’s a nice old boy really.

MARTIN: Douglas I’m really surprised at you - I didn’t think it was your style to roll over and grovel just for a big tip.

DOUGLAS: We can’t all have your high moral standards Martin - yes, nice kicking Cymru!

MARTIN: Why are you cheering for Wales, you hate Wales?

DOUGLAS: Ah, now I wouldn’t say that.

MARTIN: You say that every time we fly to Cardiff, often to the handling staff. Dread to think what they do to our cases.

DOUGLAS: No, no, all one union aren’t we? Got to support anyone against the French.

ARTHUR: That’s not why I’m supporting them!

DOUGLAS: Martin doesn’t want to hear why-

MARTIN: - yes I do, why Arthur?

ARTHUR: Well - imagine the size of the tip Mr Birling’ll give us if his side win!

MARTIN: But - England aren’t playing.

ARTHUR: No, but Mr Birling’s Welsh.

MARTIN: He’s not Welsh, how can he be Welsh, he’s English, he sounds more English than the Queen!

ARTHUR: Posh Welsh. They sound like us. Still Welsh though - he hates England. That’s why he gave us such measly tips last year!

MARTIN: Measly?

ARTHUR: Yeah I told you - last time we only got five hundred quid because England beat Wales! The time before that we got six grand! And Wales weren’t even playing that time.

MARTIN: Wh- ha- why didn’t you tell me?

DOUGLAS: You made it clear where you stood on the matter Captain. To be honest I was shamed into silence by your rectitude - his dignity is beyond price I thought to myself, and far be it from me-

MARTIN: Yes all right!

ARTHUR: And imagine what we’ll get if Wales actually win!

DOUGLAS: Oh here we go!

COMMENTATOR: (on telly) - the whistle goes - and Wales are the triple crown champions! Two tries in the second half . . .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(car engine rumbling)

MR BIRLING: (singing) Bread of heaven, bread of heaven, yum, yum yum yum yum yum yum! Bread of heaven, here I come . . .

MARTIN: Congratulations sir, marvellously played.

MR BIRLING: Ah, if it isn’t little Captain-no-tips-please-we’re-British!

MARTIN: Ah well, yes, since you mention that, um -

MR BIRLING: Y’know, there’s a little, very little, tiny really, part of me that admires you my boy. I mean obviously I don’t admire your manner, or your job, or your appearance, or anything about you at all . . . I seem to have lost the thread of my remarks.

MARTIN: You were just saying you admire me sir.

MR BIRLING: I very much doubt that.

MARTIN: No, you were. About the tips - but the thing is-

MR BIRLING: Ah yes that‘s right, you don’t want a tip. The land of my fathers has won the triple crown, I’m all set to give off money like a - like a money geyser, and yet you won’t toady. That’s almost enough to make me admire you if you weren’t so obviously an odious little tic.

MARTIN: Thank you sir. Erm, but about the toadying, I’ve had a change of heart.

MR BIRLING: Oh I see, you want in on the tips after all.

MARTIN: Yes please.

MR BIRLING: Well then you my boy have a lot of ground to make up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(door opening)

DOUGLAS: Oh hello Mr Birling, this is a pleasant surprise.

MR BIRLING: Oh hello Dougie, little Captain Thing here invited me up to the flight deck for take off.

DOUGLAS: Did he now? Good for Captain Thing.

MARTIN: So if you’d like to take a seat here sir, I’ll get you some headphones.

MR BIRLING: I’d rather sit here.

MARTIN: Much as I’d like to help you Mr Birling, you can’t sit in the captain’s seat.

MR BIRLING: Oh dear.

MARTIN: But if there’s anything else I can-

MR BIRLING: You can let me make the man say “pull up, pull up”.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Mr Birling has a particular fondness for the ground proximity warning.

MARTIN: Oh, right. Well, yes - if you’d like to press this -

(computer saying “pull up, pull up”)

MR BIRLING: Aha! Splendid!

(“pull up, pull up”)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DOUGLAS: Post take off checks complete Captain.

MR BIRLING: Did you see the match, Dougie boy?

DOUGLAS: I did indeed sir, a famous victory, Jenkins did you proud.

MR BIRLING: Didn’t he just. I support Wales Marty, did I tell you?

MARTIN: Er, no, as it happens, you didn’t.

MR BIRLING: Who do you support?

MARTIN: Wales.

MR BIRLING: Really? Where were you born?

MARTIN: . . . Wokingham.

MR BIRLING: Well then, where’s your national pride you reptile!

MARTIN: Of course, you’re right - should support England.

MR BIRLING: No! Trick question! Ten out of ten for toadying effort, none out of ten for toadying technique. I detest anyone who supports England. Your people have oppressed my people for centuries.

MARTIN: Yes, I’m so sorry about that.

MR BIRLING: All right I’m bored now, take me back to my seat.

DOUGLAS: Oh I’ll do that Mr Birling.

MARTIN: No I’ll do that thank you Douglas.

(doors opening)

MARTIN: . . . and if there’s anything else I can do for you-

MR BIRLING: Ah, well, funny you should say that while we’re in the galley - I think you should know that the more I drink, the more generous I get.

MARTIN: I’ll send Arthur to bring you a miniature straight away.

MR BIRLING: Yes, the thing about those miniatures is that they’re rather miniature, wouldn’t you say? When you’re celebrating a great big win, you rather want a great big whisky.

MARTIN: Ah well, let’s see what we have in the cupboard. (sound of keys, cupboard being unlocked and opened, and bottles clinking) Well, this is what we give the stag parties, erm - McHamish’s Special Tartan Reserve. I’m not sure it’s quite the quality you’re used to.

MR BIRLING: That’ll do nicely my boy, the time for quality has passed - quantity is the watchword now! And excellent toadying work incidentally, you’re a natural - oh and give me that as well.

MARTIN: Of course sir.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DOUGLAS: Post landing checks complete.

MARTIN: Thank you Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Incidentally Martin, where’s your hat?

MARTIN: It’s in the cabin.

DOUGLAS: What’s it doing there?

MARTIN: It’s not doing anything, it’s a hat.

DOUGLAS: You see, I think it is doing something - I think it is adorning the head and loosening the pockets of a man who-

MARTIN: Yes, yes, all right.

(door opening)

DOUGLAS: Ah, Arthur. How is the pride of Carmarthen?

ARTHUR: Ahhh, sleepy. If I had to describe him in one word, that is the one I’d choose. Really very sleepy. He didn’t even wake up for my pre-landing safety announcement, and that’s impressive because I did the version with the screams.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MR BIRLING: Ten green bottles, hangin’ on a wall. Ten green bottles - hangin’ on a wall. And if ten green bottles, hangin’ on a wall. There are ten green bottles . . . hangin’ on a wall.

ARTHUR: Hello Mr B! Er, we’ve landed.

MR BIRLING: Do you like my song?

DOUGLAS: Indeed we do, but-

MR BIRLING: It concerns . . . bottles . . . I don’t seem to be making much headway with it.

DOUGLAS: Well, don’t you worry about that, the important thing is, we’ve arrived!

MARTIN: Yes, the journey’s over.

ARTHUR: Mum’ll be here any moment to pick you up.

DOUGLAS: So . . . if there was any last little thing you-

MR BIRLING: I might have a little sleep . . . goodnight . . .

(sound of Mr Birling collapsing, bottles rolling away)

DOUGLAS: Oh no! Arthur, how on earth did he get hold of this!

ARTHUR: I don’t know Douglas, honest, I didn’t give it to him! And I swear I kept the cupboard locked!

MARTIN: Wh-wh-what’s the matter?

DOUGLAS: Well use your eyes Martin, he’s got hold of a half litre bottle! Arthur what were you thinking of!

ARTHUR: It really really wasn’t me, I’m not completely stupid!

MARTIN: Well - it wouldn’t be that stupid would it? I mean, if - we wanted him drunk didn’t we?

DOUGLAS: Oh Martin. You didn’t.

ARTHUR: Oh Skipper.

MARTIN: He asked me to, he said the drunker he got the more generous he tipped!

DOUGLAS: Yes, up to a point - after which the drunker he gets the more catatonic he gets!

ARTHUR: That’s why he’d on the miniatures Skip! So he can, y’know, regulate the flow!

CAROLYN: (calling from outside) Hello! Are you ready to go?

DOUGLAS: Mr Birling? Wake up!

MARTIN: Please wake up!

ARTHUR: Come on Mr B, rise and shine!

(Mr Birling mumbling incoherently, Carolyn entering with Philip.)

CAROLYN: Good evening Mr Birling, I trust you had a pleasant - oh good lord. He’s outdone himself this time.

DOUGLAS: Yes, with a little help from his friends.

CAROLYN: All right. Well, Philip - do you think you can carry him?

PHILIP: Reckon so.

CAROLYN: Good! Then you escort Mr Birling to his limo, and then return straight here for a lively game of “search the first officer for stolen whisky”.

PHILIP: Okay.

(picks up Mr Birling)

MARTIN: Bye then Mr Birling.

DOUGLAS: Any last thing you want to say to us before you go?

ARTHUR: Anything at all?

MR BIRLING: Hangin’ on a wall.

MARTIN: Right, thanks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(sounds of a car)

ARTHUR: Hey - maybe when he sobers up he’ll remember he hasn’t tipped us and send us something in the post!

DOUGLAS: Yes. Maybe. Or maybe he’ll just get the tooth fairy to pop it under our pillows for him on her rounds.

ARTHUR: I know what’ll cheer us up. You didn’t manage to get any of that Talisker off the plane did you Douglas?

DOUGLAS: No, as it happens I didn’t.

ARTHUR: No, well - I did.

DOUGLAS: What?

ARTHUR: Yeah. I mean, not lots or anything, just - you remember that miniature you made me open Douglas? That I couldn’t serve to Mr Birling? Well - I’ve still got it!

MARTIN: Oh good work Arthur, well played!

ARTHUR: Who wants a swig?

MARTIN: Yes please!

(drinking then gagging sounds)

MARTIN: That’s horrible!

ARTHUR: What?

DOUGLAS: Well it would be. I stole all the Talisker while you were on the roof.

ARTHUR: But you can’t have done! They were all still sealed when I came down! I opened one at random!

DOUGLAS: No they weren’t all still sealed, they all still made a (crack) noise - but you see Arthur, there are two ways of making a whisky miniature make a (crack) noise. One certainly is to get an unopened one straight from the factory, but another is to take an open one and to dab the side of the cap, with two spots of clear nail varnish. Yeah. So while Arthur was bravely searching for the TV aerial, I opened them all up and switched them for McHamish Tartan Terror, Mr B being in no state to tell the difference, and then I hid the Talisker on the plane to reclaim at my leisure.

MARTIN: Oh, so at least we-

DOUGLAS: I hid it somewhere no one would ever think to look for it, or recognise it for what it was, somewhere no one would touch it. I hid it, in the-

DOUGLAS AND MARTIN: -McHamish Tartan Bottle.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Mr Birling got his Talisker after all. Let’s hope he appreciated it.

ARTHUR: I don’t think he did.

DOUGLAS: No, I don’t think he did either.

MARTIN: So we don’t have any good whisky . . . or bad whisky . . . or a tip.

DOUGLAS: No. Anyone care for a shot of nail varnish?
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:16 am

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Cabin Pressure 1x06 Fitton



(bing-bong)

ARTHUR: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, lords and ladies, Your Majesty... This is your captain speaking, Captain, Wing Commander, Sir Arthur Shappey, welcoming you aboard this world-record-attempting flight around... the world. Passengers on both sides of the aircraft should have excellent views of... the world. If you find we're going over a bit of the world you like the look of, do please ring your little bell and one of the cabin crew will fit you with a parachute and chuck you out. Otherwise, enjoy the flight and when we get to Sydney, do keep an eye out for the Sydney Harbour bridge, I'm gonna have a crack at flying underneath it!

CAROLYN: Hey, wing commander! Less yammering, more hoovering!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum!



OPENING CREDITS (by BC <3) - This week, Fitton!



(sounds of heavy rain)

MARTIN: And there's another leak over here...

ARTHUR: Right-o, Martin!

(door opens)

DOUGLAS: God, the rain's horrible outside! ...And inside.

CAROLYN: Douglas, you are forty-five minutes late!

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, how terribly remiss of me! And Mr Goddard is of course so famously punctual. I do hope I haven't kept him waiting.

CAROLYN: It's a job, Douglas, a job for which you are being paid like any other and I expect you to be on time.

DOUGLAS: I am chastened and ashamed. Arthur, tea!

ARTHUR: Er, yeah, will do, Douglas, just trying to fix this leak first.

DOUGLAS: Oh well, in that case... Arthur, tea?

ARTHUR: Wow! You're making me tea?

DOUGLAS: I know, it's a topsy-turvy day of misrule, isn't it?

ARTHUR: Cracking! Loads of milk and four sugars, please!

(rain keeps pattering; ARTHUR hums)

ARTHUR: Hey, Douglas, you know when you get something going round and round in your brain?

DOUGLAS: Yes, though I'm a little surprised you do.

ARTHUR: A tune, I mean.

DOUGLAS: Ah. Yes.

ARTHUR: Well, I've got one of yours at the moment.

DOUGLAS: One of mine?

ARTHUR: Yes, something you were singing a few days ago, and I've only got the one line. How does it go after this? Um... (hums out of tune) Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-aaaah-ah-ah (goes on like this a bit more) How does it go then?

DOUGLAS: Well, I hope after that it goes to a vet, and is painlessly put out of its misery.

ARTHUR: But what's the next line?

DOUGLAS: I have no idea.

ARTHUR: It's something you were singing!

DOUGLAS: Are you sure you're not thinking of when Martin trapped my hand in the cabin door?

ARTHUR: No, no, you were singing it this week. (attempts humming again)

DOUGLAS: Well, was it... (singing) "Summertime, and the living is easy..."

ARTHUR: No, it was more like: Ah-ah-ah (etc)

DOUGLAS: You do realise every time you do that it's completely different?

ARTHUR: No, listen: Ah-ah-ah...

CAROLYN: Please, Arthur, not again!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum.



(sounds of clicking and banging)

MARTIN: Oh, Douglas, I thought of another one this morning.

DOUGLAS: Oh yes?

CAROLYN: What are you doing this time?

DOUGLAS: Books that sound more interesting with the final letter knocked off.

CAROLYN: What have you got so far?

DOUGLAS: "Of Mice and Me" and "Three Men in a Boa".

CAROLYN: Ah, ah: "Far from the Madding Crow".

DOUGLAS: Oh, very good, we'll have that, and what's your new one, Martin?

MARTIN: (proudly) "The Hound of the Baskerville". (pause) I've taken the s off!

DOUGLAS: Almost good. Certainly better than when you took the s off "The Mill on the Floss", to make "The Mill on the Flos".

(sound of banging and even heavier rain)

ARTHUR: Aha!

CAROLYN: Arthur! Arthur, what have you done?

ARTHUR: I'm making progress, I've found the hole where the rain's coming in!

DOUGLAS: Found it, or made it?

ARTHUR: No, it was there before, I've just made it... easier to see.

MARTIN: You mean bigger.

ARTHUR: Bigger-ish.

DOUGLAS: Oh for heaven's sake, it's now raining inside the portacabin! Can we please just go into Fitton and wait in a nice coffee shop or something?

CAROLYN: No! If Goddard turns up, we have to be ready in twenty minutes, flight plan filed, aircraft checked, ready to go.

DOUGLAS: He's not going to call, we haven't heard a peep out of him for twenty-eight days, he's clearly forgotten all about us!

CAROLYN: We don't know that. Anyway, standby is the Holy Grail of the airline industry: being paid to fly without any actual flying. No risk of the three of you putting us into bankruptcy, prison or the side of a mountain. God has smiled on us, and if he has chosen as his instrument a lippy telecom millionaire from Bracknell, who are we to argue?

MARTIN: Well, if we cannot go into town we could at least go and sit in the plane where it's dry.

DOUGLAS: Oh, God, do we have to?

MARTIN: Well, we can sit in the plane, or we can sit in the rain.

DOUGLAS: Can't we sit in the car, or sit in a bar?

MARTIN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: I'm sorry, I thought we were staging an impromptu tribute to Dr Seuss.



(sounds of rain pattering on metal)

DOUGLAS: Well, this is much nicer.

ARTHUR: How about... a game of charades?

ALL: No!

ARTHUR: Oh, why not?

CAROLYN: Because, dear heart, none of us will soon forget the misery of you spending 25 minutes miming Apocalypse Now, without knowing what an apocalypse was.

(long silence)

ARTHUR: Ah-ah-ah-aah-ah-ah...

DOUGLAS: Oh, oh-oh-oh! Is it... (hum-sings the aria Non più andrai from The Marriage of Figaro)

ARTHUR: No, that doesn't sound anything like what I sang.

DOUGLAS: That I'm willing to concede.

MARTIN: Well, so long as we're in the plane with nothing to do, we could always review the standard operating procedures...

(DOUGLAS and CAROLYN sigh)

CAROLYN: Yes, that will make the day fly by on silver wings.

MARTIN: It is a legal requirement, and we're here anyway.

DOUGLAS: That's why you were so keen to come out to the plane, isn't it, so you could get us to go through your rotten old ops.

MARTIN: Well, since I've gone to all the trouble of revising them...

CAROLYN: Fine, we'll go through one.

MARTIN: No, I don't want to now.

CAROLYN: Oh, come on.

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Martin, we're sorry. It's very good of you to do them. Please take us through one.

MARTIN: All right. Ahem. Standard operating procedure... "Evacuation in event of smoke or fire in cabin."

ARTHUR: Hang on, is-is it okay for me to hear these?

MARTIN: Yes, they're not secret!

ARTHUR: Ah. OK, carry on.

MARTIN: "Set parking brake."

DOUGLAS: M-hm.

MARTIN: "Shut down engines."

CAROLYN: Good idea.

MARTIN: "PA announcement."

DOUGLAS: Yup.

MARTIN: "First officer leaves through the nearest exit."

DOUGLAS: You bet he does, and enters nearest bar...

MARTIN: "Captain dons cap, enters cabin to assist passengers."

(CAROLYN and DOUGLAS giggle)

MARTIN: What?

CAROLYN: (through giggles) Captain does what?

MARTIN: Assists passengers. What? What's so funny?

DOUGLAS: No, no, no, before that.

MARTIN: "Captain dons cap, enters cabin to..."

(CAROLYN and DOUGLAS laugh openly)

DOUGLAS: "Dons cap?"

CAROLYN: "Captain dons cap?!"

DOUGLAS: Oh yeah, you have to don your cap before dealing with a fire!

CAROLYN: Otherwise, how will the fire know who the captain is?

MARTIN: It's for the passengers!

DOUGLAS: The boy stood on the burning deck / Whence all but he had fled

CAROLYN: His heart was in his mouth but loo-hoo! / His cap was on his head!

MARTIN: Fine, fine, forget it. Forget it! I'll go and sit on the flight deck and review them by myself! (exits, slamming door)

(CAROLYN and DOUGLAS continue laughing until they calm down)

CAROLYN: Ha-ha-ha, hah, oh, oh dear.

DOUGLAS: Ah. Was that a bit...?

CAROLYN: Yes, a little bit. Do you think... do you think one of us should...?

DOUGLAS: Yes. (exits)

ARTHUR: Right, well, just you and me, mum. You know, you can play charades with two people.

CAROLYN: No.

ARTHUR: OK. Oh, um, dad called this morning.

CAROLYN: Ah, I thought he might.

ARTHUR: Well, he did.

CAROLYN: What did he have to say?

ARTHUR: Oh, he asked after you, um, and the plane.

CAROLYN: Oh yes, in which order?

ARTHUR: Not that order.

CAROLYN: No.

ARTHUR: And he said to tell you-

CAROLYN: Not interested!

ARTHUR: Yeah, but he said to tell you-

CAROLYN: I know what he said to tell me because he said it every 12th of November for eight years. Not. Interested.

ARTHUR: He still made me promise to say it. Sorry.

CAROLYN: Go on then, get it over with.

ARTHUR: He said to tell you he'd like to buy his plane back off you.

CAROLYN: Not interested, and it's not his plane. Not that it matters, but how much was he offering this time?

ARTHUR: A hundred pounds.

CAROLYN: A hundred? Well that's just silly. Last year I turned him down for a 125 thousand, why would I give it at 25 grands less?

ARTHUR: No, not a hundred thousand pounds, a hundred pounds.

CAROLYN: No, dear, no, I didn't pick you up on it because, frankly, life's too short, but when he said "a hundred", he meant "a hundred thousand."

ARTHUR: No, he didn't.

CAROLYN: Arthur, given that in your short life you have caught hold of the wrong end of enough sticks to build an entire wrong end of a forest, what makes you so sure you've got it right this time?

ARTHUR: Because he made me write it down.

(rustle of paper)

ARTHUR: Tell her "Yes, he does mean a hundred pounds. Not a hundred grand, one hundred pounds and no pennies. I haven't got it wrong, no, write Arthur, Arthur hasn't got it wrong. Phone if you want details."



(sounds of rain)

DOUGLAS: Er, Martin...

MARTIN: What do you want?

DOUGLAS: Apologies, Martin, that was very childish of us.

MARTIN: Yes, it ruddy well was.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Perfectly reasonable emergency procedure.

MARTIN: Are you being funny again?

DOUGLAS: No, no, I mean it. The hat makes it clear to confused frightened passengers that you are in charge. Absolutely.

MARTIN: Exactly.

DOUGLAS: Entirely sensible.

MARTIN: It's nothing to do with showing off about being the captain!

DOUGLAS: No.

MARTIN: I mean God knows I could write "Captain" on my forehead in lipstick and people still wouldn't get it.

(DOUGLAS snorts)

MARTIN: What, what now?

DOUGLAS: No, no, nothing, I mean, not you. I was just, I was just hoping you weren't thinking of putting that in the operating procedure.

MARTIN: (laughs) What, you mean: "First officer leaves through nearest exit. Captain writes CAPTAIN on forehead with lipstick, dons cap, enters cabin"?

DOUGLAS: "In unlikely event of captain nonrecognition, captain doffs cap, gestures to lipstick inscription."

(DOUGLAS and MARTIN both laugh)

MARTIN: Why do they always think you're the captain, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Oh, that's easy. 'cause I don't care. Captains don't care. I've been a first officer, then a captain, then a first officer again. All the same to me. So long as you're happy, who gives a toss how many rings there are on your sleeve? Whereas you always look like you want to be the captain, so people assume you can't be one. You've got to lose that look.

MARTIN: But I have always wanted to be an airline captain.

DOUGLAS: Really?

MARTIN: Yes, ever since I was six.

DOUGLAS: Oh, and before that?

MARTIN: I wanted to be an aeroplane.

DOUGLAS: I see.

MARTIN: Why, what did you want to be?

DOUGLAS: Oh, various things at different times. I studied medicine at university.

MARTIN: You wanted to be a doctor?

DOUGLAS: Well, I wanted to be a medical student. They seemed to have the most fun. I'm not sure I ever wanted to be a doctor. Glamorous, but gloopy.

(door opens)

ARTHUR: Coffee, chaps.

DOUGLAS: How about you, Arthur, what do you want to do if you grow up?

ARTHUR: Eh?

MARTIN: When you were a boy, what did you want to be?

ARTHUR: Well, I was a bit like you, actually, Skipper. I always wanted to be a pilot too.

DOUGLAS: Good Lord, really?

ARTHUR: Yeah. Obviously, that was never gonna happen.

MARTIN: Oh well.

ARTHUR: Although, actually... When I was seventeen, Mum did get me an interview at the Oxford Aviation Academy, for my birthday. So I- I actually went up and I sat in the hall, and the others started to come in and... I don't know, they all looked like proper pilots, or at least... You know the Muppet babies?

DOUGLAS: I fear they may have passed me by...

ARTHUR: Well, it was this cartoon with baby versions of Kermit and Miss Piggy and everyone. And these guys looked like Muppet baby versions of, well, you two. Well, anyway...

MARTIN: Yes, I know, I know. Of him.

ARTHUR: Yeah. And anyway, the woman came out and said "Arthur Shappey, you're up" and all the Muppet baby pilots looked round to see who he was... So did I.... And after a bit, they decided he hadn't turned up and... went to the next guy. So you know, a part of me always wonders what would have happened if I'd gone through that door.

DOUGLAS: Well I can tell you Arthur they'd have made mincemeat out of you.

ARTHUR: Really?

DOUGLAS: Absolutely. You'd be a hopeless pilot, they'd have laughed you out of the room.

ARTHUR: And you're not just saying that to make me feel better?

DOUGLAS: Not at all, you wouldn't have had a cat's chance in hell, would he, Martin?

MARTIN: I'm afraid not.

ARTHUR: Aww. You guys are great!



MARTIN: There isn't though. After the age of thirty you just don't meet anyone new. You're on your raft, with your friends, and everyone else is on their raft; sometimes the rafts bump into each other, but there's no... raft-hopping. And I've managed to get on an all-boys raft.

DOUGLAS: Well, what about cabin crew?

MARTIN: Um, well, for two very different reasons, I'm afraid neither Arthur nor Carolyn quite float my boat.

DOUGLAS: Well, there's always weddings. I met all three of my wives at weddings.

MARTIN: Really?

DOUGLAS: Of course. The third one I met at my wedding, which was a trifle awkward.

MARTIN: Yes, I imagine it would be.

DOUGLAS: Yeah, my second marriage wasn't my favourite.

MARTIN: Which one was?

DOUGLAS: Oh, the current Mrs Richardson, hands down. She's smashing. Look, I got her this, for our anniversary.

(unzips bag)

MARTIN: I think you may be showing me the wrong bag.

DOUGLAS: No, that's the one.

MARTIN: You've got her a bottle of brown sauce... You incorrigible old romantic.

DOUGLAS: Ah, but it's her favourite brown sauce. Only they changed the recipe in Britain, and now she doesn't like it anymore, but! I did some research, and they still make it with the old recipe in Greece, so last time we were in Thessaloniki, you remember, back when we used to fly planes for a living instead of sit in them, I got her this. She'll love it.

MARTIN: Oh, you sod. That actually is romantic.



CAROLYN: Arthur, listen carefully.

ARTHUR: Uh-oh.

CAROLYN: I've just been talking with your father.

ARTHUR: Right.

CAROLYN: He's now offering to buy Gertie for one pound.

ARTHUR: Right. And are you thinking of... 'cause I'd probably give you ten.

CAROLYN: In exchange for which, he will take Gertie and with her, all of MJN's debts.

ARTHUR: Oh.

CAROLYN: So... What do you think I should do?

(door opens)

DOUGLAS: Ah, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: Well, it's two hours to dusk and he's clearly not coming, can we have a little snifter?

CAROLYN: No, get out!

DOUGLAS: Pardonnez-moi...

(door closes)

CAROLYN: Carry on, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Well, what do you want to do?

CAROLYN: I want to know what you think.

ARTHUR: Really? Are you sure?

CAROLYN: Yes! I mean, let's be clear, not in your capacity as astute financial analyst, in your capacity as someone who might one day come into this money, or... lack of money.

ARTHUR: Oh. Right. Well, I don't want to... I think you should do whatever you think, but... just-just thinking about myself, I don't know what I'd do with money that would be better than getting to go up in the plane all the time with you guys; but that's just me being selfish.



(door opens)

DOUGLAS: No, she didn't really go for the drinks idea, water it is.

(sounds of liquid being poured)

MARTIN: So, what is it exactly so special about... I don't even know her name.

DOUGLAS: Helena. Oh, I don't know, I mean... she's clever and funny and kind and beautiful and so on and et cetera, you know, the standard specs... But I think if I'm honest, what it really comes down to is she thinks I'm terrific.

MARTIN: Does she?

DOUGLAS: Yup, the bee's pyjamas, the cat's knees, really terrific.

MARTIN: And that's enough to make you happy together, is it, your shared belief in the terrificness of you?

DOUGLAS: It's not a bad start.

MARTIN: But does it make you happy, truly happy?

(door opens, enters ARTHUR)

DOUGLAS: Oh well come on, no one's truly happy.

ARTHUR: I'm truly happy!

MARTIN: Oh God.

DOUGLAS: No, Arthur, you are cheery. No one's interested in the secret of true cheeriness.

ARTHUR: But that's not true. I'm fairly often just completely happy. Like, for instance, when you get into a bath quickly and it's just the right temperature, and you go "ooooh". I mean really no one gets any happier than that.

MARTIN: What a depressing thought.

ARTHUR: No, no, it's not though, because those sort of things happen all the time, whereas you're hardly ever, you know, blissfully happy with the love of your life in the moonlight, and when you are, you're too busy worrying about it being over soon, whereas the bath moments, there's loads of those! Oh, like when you realise your knuckles are ready for cracking.

DOUGLAS: What?

(ARTHUR cracks his knuckles. MARTIN and DOUGLAS make disgusted noises.)

ARTHUR: See, I was happy then! Oh, wait, I've got another one!

(opens a door)

MARTIN: Did you order the motivational seminar by Forrest Gump?

(door again)

ARTHUR: Apples!

DOUGLAS: Oh, no! Please spare us the crisp crunch of the first bite of an apple!

ARTHUR: No, no, of course not. No one really likes apples. That would be like liking... wood. No, I mean... this.

(ARTHUR tosses an apple from hand to hand)

DOUGLAS: What?

ARTHUR: This! Tossing an apple from hand to hand. It just feels really nice. I could do it for hours. Try it!

(ARTHUR and DOUGLAS are tossing apples from hand to hand)

DOUGLAS: You know, there is something rather pleasant about this.

MARTIN: Oh, for goodness's sakes, I don't believe it!

ARTHUR: Try it!

(ALL THREE are tossing apples)

ARTHUR: See?

MARTIN: Well, it's... satisfying, but I wouldn't say I was happy.

ARTHUR: Give it a bit longer!

(tossing [of apples] continues)

(door opens, enter CAROLYN)

CAROLYN: Good grief! The world's least impressive troupe of jugglers, what on earth are you doing?

ARTHUR: Nothing.

MARTIN: Nothing.

DOUGLAS: (begins humming)

ARTHUR: That's it!

MARTIN: Oh, Arthur, you made me drop my apple!

CAROLYN: Oh, Martin, surely the only professional pilot who cannot successfully juggle one apple.

ARTHUR: That's the tune though! Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah...

DOUGLAS: Ooh! "We're busy doing nothing / Working the whole day through..." (MARTIN joins in) "Trying to find lots of things not to do" (CAROLYN joins in) "We're busy going nowhere / Isn't it just a crime" (ARTHUR joins in) "We'd like to be unhappy, but / We never do have the time!"

(ALL laugh)

CAROLYN: All right, all right, who wants a drink?

DOUGLAS: Really? You seemed quite anti the idea just now.

CAROLYN: Yes, well, I have perked up somewhat since then and anyway, for goodness' sake, Goddard's obviously not going to call, it's an hour before dusk after twenty-eight days of silence, he's forgotten about us.

MARTIN: Except he's guaranteed to call if we have a drink.

DOUGLAS: Well, he'd better hurry up then, he's two drinks too late for me.

CAROLYN: Douglas, have you been drinking?

DOUGLAS: I cannot tell a lie. What I am saying, I'm terrific at telling lies. I mean I'm not going to tell a lie. Yes.

MARTIN: I thought it was water!

DOUGLAS: That's the beauty of vodka - colourless, odourless, proof that God loves pilots. Or at least the Russians do.

CAROLYN: Arthur, one for you?

ARTHUR: Oh, thanks. Can I have pineapple juice?

CAROLYN: No, it's all right, we decided he's not going to call, you can have wine.

ARTHUR: Oh. OK. But can I have pineapple juice?

CAROLYN: Yes, fine.

ARTHUR: Thanks, Mum!



(clinking of glasses and laughter)

DOUGLAS: "A Dance to the Music of Tim"?

CAROLYN: Ha-ha-ha! Very good, very good, very good. Ah, "The Da Vinci Cod"?

(laughter)

MARTIN: Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, James Bond, James Bond. "The Man with the Golden Gu". Ha-ha-ha! "Goldfinge". Ha, ha!

ARTHUR: Octopus!

DOUGLAS: Octopus? That's just Octopus!

ARTHUR: Yes?

DOUGLAS: Oh, please, someone save me from this.

(phone rings)

DOUGLAS: Not you though.

MARTIN: Who is it?

CAROLYN: Anonymous caller.

ARTHUR: Could be anyone.

MARTIN: Probably not him.

CAROLYN responds.

CAROLYN: Hello! Ah. Ooh. Yes. Yes, of course. Yes. Very well. Goodbye. (hangs up) Goddard will be here in twenty minutes. What do we do?

DOUGLAS: Why did you say yes?

CAROLYN: He's paid us thousands and thousands of pounds this month just for me to say yes to that one phonecall.

DOUGLAS: True.

CAROLYN: We have to fly.

DOUGLAS: But-

CAROLYN: But we can't fly.

MARTIN: I can fly! (singing) I can fly right up to the sky!

CAROLYN: You can't.

MARTIN: I caaaan!

CAROLYN: You can't!

DOUGLAS: No, but...

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: I can.

CAROLYN: No, you can't. We'll just tell him the plane won't start and refund him his money and... (sniffs) I- I wasn't going to tell you this, but as it happens, today someone made me an offer-"

DOUGLAS: I'm sorry to interrupt, Carolyn, but you're not listening. I am fit to fly.

CAROLYN: You're not, you've been drinking.

DOUGLAS: No, I haven't, I don't drink.

MARTIN: Yes, you do!

DOUGLAS: No, I don't.

MARTIN: You do, I've seen you, hundreds of times!

DOUGLAS: No, you think you have, but you haven't.

MARTIN: I have, you've been drinking tonight!

DOUGLAS: The thing about not being able to tell vodka from water is... it cuts both ways.

CAROLYN: So, you're sober.

DOUGLAS: Very sober. Eight years for me, too.

CAROLYN: You can fly!

DOUGLAS: I can fly.

MARTIN: I can fly too. I can bloody well fly as well as any... fly.

DOUGLAS: Of course, I'm perfectly qualified to fly this plane alone.

CAROLYN: But Goddard doesn't know that. He's hired two pilots, he's expecting a captain.

DOUGLAS: Well, we could always...

CAROLYN: Oh no!

DOUGLAS: Well, what else can we do?

CAROLYN: Oh no.

DOUGLAS: Arthur?

ARTHUR: Yep.

DOUGLAS: Arthur Shappey, you're up!



(bing-bong)

ARTHUR: Good evening, this is your captain speaking, captain Martin Crieff speaking, I shall be captaining the plane, as your captain, this evening. OK, bye!

(bing)



MARTIN: Good evening, Mr Goddard, welcome aboard. My name's Arthur, I'll be your steward today.

GODDARD: Yeah, cheers Arthur, all right.

MARTIN: May I offer sir a drink, sir?

GODDARD: Yeah, yeah, hang on, let me get meself sorted out.

MARTIN: He-hem. Well, absolutely, sir. When you'll all nicely settled in, would you like me to bring you a drink, that's all I was asking.

GODDARD: Yeah, all right. Mineral water.

MARTIN: Very good, sir. Would you like spill or starkling?

GODDARD: Just hold on a minute, can you?

CAROLYN: Martin, I'll take care of this!

MARTIN: (coughs) Arthur!

CAROLYN: Oh yes, yes. Arthur! He-he. I'll take care of this, Arthur. Sir, would you like a drink?

GODDARD: Yes! Still mineral water, no ice. All right?

CAROLYN: Right, go and get him one, Maa-rtha!

GODDARD: Martha?

CAROLYN: Arthur, Arthur!

MARTIN: (sputters with laughter)

GODDARD: What's up, what's goin' on?

CAROLYN: No-no-no-no, nothing, nothing. He used to be, he used to be Martha, now he's... Arthur.

MARTIN: Hahahaha, hahahaha!

GODDARD: What are you laughing at?

MARTIN: Hahaha. I'm not laughing.

GODDARD: Yes, you are. And why is your uniform so baggy?

MARTIN: I've... (snorts) I've lost a lot of weight recently.

CAROLYN: Yes, yes, yes, from when he was Martha!

GODDARD: Right, I've had enough of this. I wanna see the pilots.

CAROLYN: Oh no, no, I'm afraid that's quite impossible!

GODDARD: Take me to the pilots, now!



(sound of apples being juggled)

DOUGLAS: That's right, and catch, and throw, and catch, and throw...

ARTHUR: (hums) Ta-ta-tarara-ta-ta-ta-ta-ra...

DOUGLAS: ...and catch, and throw, and catch, and throw...

GODDARD: Look, what's goin' on with- bloody hell!

DOUGLAS: I'm sorry, sir, but you're intruding on a standard pre-flight exercise to improve reflex time and hand-eye coordination. Could you return to your seat?

ARTHUR: Yeah, that's right.

GODDARD: You're the captain, are you?

ARTHUR: I certainly am. I am... the captain.

GODDARD: Right. I wanna smell your breath, both of you.

DOUGLAS: Be our guest. (puffs)

ARTHUR: (puffs)

GODDARD: All right then. Fair enough, fair enough.

ARTHUR: 'course, if we'd been drinking vodka, you wouldn't be able to smell it on our breath.

GODDARD: You've been drinking vodka?

ARTHUR: No, no, we haven't. I was just saying, as an interesting fact.

GODDARD: Are you really a captain, mate?

DOUGLAS: Yes, you see, it, it's-

ARTHUR: Thank you, Douglas. I can deal with this. I am a captain, yes, and I can assure you that you may fully rely on my professionalism and my judgment.

GODDARD: Yeah, fair enough, mate, no offence.

ARTHUR: Not to mention, my 30 years of flying experience.

GODDARD: Hang on! Thirty years? How old are you?

ARTHUR: Well, if I qualified at 18, which I did, that makes me... 48.

GODDARD: You don't look 48 to me.

DOUGLAS: The Captain does have a youthful vigour.

MARTIN: Everyone comments on it.

CAROLYN: Of course, he has a punishing moisturising.

GODDARD: All right, I don't know what the hell's goin' on here, but luckily for you, I've got to be in Madrid by 9. So 'ere's how it's goin' to go: you are gonna fly the plane...

DOUGLAS: Yes, sir.

GODDARD: Shut it. You are gonna watch, and not touch anything unless he tells you to.

DOUGLAS: I won't tell him.

GODDARD: Good. And you, and you, are gonna sit in your little kitchen with a liter of water each and sober up. And no one is gonna juggle apples!



ARTHUR: Zoom! Zoom! Zoom!

CAROLYN: Arthur, it's a hairdryer, you have to point it steadily, you can't just zap things dry like it's a ray gun!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum.

(door opens)

MARTIN: Carolyn, I'm off now.

CAROLYN: Cheerie-o! Oh, Martin, did you leave a bottle of brown sauce on the flight deck, you revolting creature?

MARTIN: No, oh, actually, that's Douglas'. Has he gone?

CAROLYN: Oh, at the first whiff of mopping up to be done.

MARTIN: Right, well, give it to me, I'll drop it off on my way home.

CAROLYN: I'm sure he can go a couple of days without brown sauce.

MARTIN: No, he... It's a long, slightly weird story.

CAROLYN: Then by all means, keep it to yourself. Goodbye!

(phone rings)

MARTIN: Bye-bye, Arthur!

ARTHUR: Bye, Skipper! I loved being you!

MARTIN: Oh. Well. Glad somebody does.

(phone keeps ringing)

(CAROLYN answers phone)

CAROLYN: Ah, thank you for ringing back. Yes, I have a message for Mr Shappey, from the CEO of MJN Air: "Gertie's staying with me, so up yours, baldie." Yes, it is a business message. It's in code, you see. He'll know what it means. And that's from Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, CEO My Jet Now Air. Thank you so much.

(hangs up)



(sound of doorbell)

DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin.

MARTIN: Hello, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: What are you doing here?

MARTIN: I just stopped by to give you this. You left it on the plane.

DOUGLAS: Oh! Right. Yes. Thank you.

MARTIN: You're welcome. Just thought I'd stop by on my way home, I mean, I'm not really on my way, actually, but to save your anniversary, I thought-

DOUGLAS: I know, and I do appreciate it, I really do. Well, I won't keep you...

MARTIN: Well, OK. Well, I'll see you next... Douglas. Your epaulets.

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: They've... grown an extra bar.

DOUGLAS: Oooh! Look at that, how silly of me, I must have put on my old Air England ones by mistake.

MARTIN: When?

DOUGLAS: When?

MARTIN: When?

DOUGLAS: Well... When I got dressed.

MARTIN: Douglas, you were not wearing captain's epaulets during the flight. I would have noticed, believe me.

DOUGLAS: Yes, you would, wouldn't you?

MARTIN: Which means you must have...

HELENA: Who is it, Dougie?

DOUGLAS: No one, sweetheart, just someone dropping something off.

HELENA: Oh, hello.

MARTIN: Hello, I'm Martin.

DOUGLAS: Well, thanks for that, Martin, I'll see you-

HELENA: Martin, oh, from MJN!

DOUGLAS: That's right, darling. Martin, this is my wonderful wife Helena, Helena, this is my trusted and valued first officer, Martin Crieff.

HELENA: Pleased to meet you.

MARTIN: Pleased to meet you.

HELENA: We meet at last. I've heard so much about you.

MARTIN: So I gather.

HELENA: Well, won't you come in for a drink?

MARTIN: Perhaps another time, I better get home.

HELENA: Oh, what a pity. I've been dying to hear what he's like as a boss. I bet you end up doing all the work! I know I'd hate to be Douglas' first officer.

MARTIN: Yes, well, as a friend once told me, as long as you're happy, who gives a toss how many stripes you've got on your arm?

HELENA: (laughs) But I bet whoever told you that was a first officer.

MARTIN: Now you come to mention it, I rather think he was.

CLOSING CREDITS
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:19 am

Serie 2:

[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]

CABIN PRESSURE 2x03 Helsinki




AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Golf Tango India, I’m going to clear you to start after Golf Echo Echo.

DOUGLAS: Thank you Carl, ready to go after Golf Echo.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: That’s Golf Echo Echo.

DOUGLAS: Sorry Tower, I thought the second Echo was an echo.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: What?

DOUGLAS: I thought you said Golf Echo…echo. When in fact, you said Golf Echo Echo. That is to say, I thought the first Echo was Echo, and the second echo was an echo of Echo. Whereas in fact both Echoes were Echoes and neither echo was an echo.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Then perhaps I better put you right to the back of the queue, while you check your radio equipment, shall I?

DOUGLAS: Golf Tango India ready to follow Golf Echo Echo

OPENING CREDITS.

This week: Helsinki!


-Douglas hums happily-

MARTIN: Oh! Hello Douglas. Good Lord!
DOUGLAS: Ah. Morning Martin. I wasn’t expecting you just yet.
MARTIN: Evidently not!
DOUGLAS: Have you picked up the weather?
MARTIN: Uh, yes. North Sea turbulence, clear skies at Helsinki.
DOUGLAS: Oh Jolly Good!
MARTIN: Douglas I cannot help but notice, you’ve filled the flight deck with orchids.
DOUGLAS: Yes. Yes, I have done that. Yes.
MARTIN: Are you about to propose to me?
DOUGLAS: It pains me to break your heart Martin, but no. These are for another man, a Finnish customs officer named Milo, to be exact.
MARTIN: And what does he have that I don’t have?
DOUGLAS: Fishcakes.
MARTIN: Really?
DOUGLAS: Also: salmon, turbot and langoustine.
MARTIN: Oh Douglas, you’re not smuggling again…
DOUGLAS: Absolutely not, perish the thought! A simple exchange of gifts! You see, a friend gave me these orchids when we were in Cyprus, as a token of appreciation, for the sixteen jars of béarnaise sauce I gave him, which were in turn an unwanted gift from a friend in Marseille. The orchids are lovely, but not quite my thing, so I shall pass them on to my friend in Helsinki, and who knows? He may wish to show his gratitude by presenting me with assorted fish, and fish products, which would be just the very thing for a friend of mine in Zurich. They’re rather short of fresh seafood in Switzerland…don’t know why.
MARTIN: I see. But if you just keep bartering each thing along, what’s the point?
DOUGLAS: Well put it this way: I have here about five hundred EUROS‘ worth of flowers, and I shall exchange them for about five hundred and sixty EUROS’ worth of fish. And I started three months ago with a cheese sandwich… right that's most of them hidden away, could you put this bunch under your seat?
MARTIN: Ooof…
ARTHUR: Good morning, good morning, good morning gents, teas, coffees, keys, toffees!
DOUGLAS: Morning Arthur. You seem a little low-spirited…
ARTHUR: Do I?
DOUGLAS: No.
MARTIN: What is it this time…? Did the numbers you would have picked in the lottery come up again?
ARTHUR: Oh that was a great day, wasn’t it? Sixty thousand pounds!
MARTIN: That you didn’t win.
ARTHUR: But that’s what my numbers were worth! Brilliant! No, no, nothing like that. No, ah- let’s just say I’m really looking forward to meeting our passenger today.
DOUGLAS: Oooh! Who is it? Let’s see…Mister Arthur Millener; stockbroker. Yes, he sounds enormous fun!
CAROLYN: Oh you’re here already. What’re you doing in here?
MARTIN: Arranging flowers.
CAROLYN: Don’t get sarcastic with me!
MARTIN: Sorry Carolyn.
ARTHUR: Excuse me, back in a minute…
CAROLYN: Right, you’ve got clear skies at Helsinki, your alternate is Stockholm, Douglas you operate out.
DOUGLAS: Wilko. Who’s this Millener chap we’re flying then? Arthur seems very keen to meet him.
CAROLYN: No idea. Internet booking payment's gone through fine, though, and so...
ARTHUR: Happy Birthday!!!
CAROLYN: Ohh you remembered!!!
DOUGLAS: Oh yes! Happy Birthday!
MARTIN: Yes! Happy birthday!
ARTHUR: You thought I’d forgotten didn’t you?
CAROLYN: Well I wasn’t sure…
ARTHUR: Of course not! Not a special birthday like this one!
CAROLYN: What’s so special about sixty-three?
ARTHUR: Well you know, because of the song… Do you still like me, can you still see me? No, I’m sixty-three!
DOUGLAS: Ah, that song. Carolyn you’re aware I had forgotten, aren’t you?
CAROLYN: Yes, don't worry; I forgot to put any money on your expenses card. Paying for your own hotel room can be your present.
DOUGLAS: That’s…that’s a very big present!
CAROLYN: I know! I’m such a lucky girl! You shouldn’t have!
MARTIN: I didn’t forget.
CAROLYN: Didn’t you?
DOUGLAS: Didn’t you?
MARTIN: No, I… hid my present under my seat! It’s-these.
CAROLYN: Oh orchids! How lovely!
DOUGLAS: Gosh! How generous of you, Martin.
MARTIN: Not that generous.
DOUGLAS: Pretty generous, orchids are very expensive.
MARTIN: Quite expensive, not all that expensive.
DOUGLAS: You’d be surprised
MARTIN: No, I wouldn’t!
DOUGLAS: Yes, you will.
ARTHUR: My present then, time for my present!
CAROLYN: Yes I’m sorry dear, what is it?
ARTHUR: Well it’s a pretty special one, and it’s in the cabin so, are you ready?
CAROLYN: Yes.
ARTHUR: Mum, it’s been fifteen years since you’ve seen her but today, for your birthday, get ready to meet…your sister Ruth!
CAROLYN: Oh.
ARTHUR: And her husband Philip, and her grandson Kieran… hurray!
KIERAN: Aren’t you going to say anything to her, granny?
RUTH: Well Kieran, when a lady is asked to drive a hundred and fifty miles to meet her sister, she naturally assumes it’s because her sister has something to say to her. But evidently not.
CAROLYN: Arthur, during your no doubt-meticulous planning of this occasion, did it occur to you that if two sisters haven’t spoken for fifteen years, there might be a reason for it?
ARTHUR: No.
CAROLYN: Ah. Well regrettably you’ll have to tell your aunt she’s wasted her time. We are about to leave for Helsinki and I have much to do.
ARTHUR: Aha! That’s the second part of my present.
CAROLYN: What?
ARTHUR: I booked the trip! So we can all go together!
MARTIN: You booked the trip?
DOUGLAS: You’re Arthur Millener?
ARTHUR: Yes!
MARTIN: Millener? Why Millener?
ARTHUR: Because it’s not my name but it sounds like a name that someone might have.
MARTIN: And Arthur?
ARTHUR: That was the clever bit, it’s the last name you’d expect me to use, because it actually is my name!
DOUGLAS: To be honest Arthur, I think the moment you decided to book your aunt on a fake flight to Helsinki you had us on the back foot…expectations wise.
CAROLYN: Arthur, a word with you in the galley
ARTHUR: I don’t want to.
CAROLYN: I want you to.
DOUGLAS: Oh dear. This is a little awkward, isn’t it?
RUTH: It’s not awkward for me
DOUGLAS: Oh good. Just the rest of us then.
RUTH: No.No it’s not awkward for my husband, it’s not awkward for my grandson, we’ve nothing to feel awkward about; we accepted an invitation in good faith.
DOUGLAS: So Philip, what line of work are you in?
RUTH: My husband’s deaf
DOUGLAS: Ah. That explains much.
RUTH: What does it explain?
DOUGLAS: Why he can’t hear me.
KIERAN: Are you the captain?
DOUGLAS: No, I’m the first officer, this is the…
MARTIN: I'm the captain.
KIERAN: You’re very young to be a captain.
MARTIN: Oh for goodness sake, you’re an actual child!
KIERAN: No, I mean, wow! You’re very young to be a captain! Did you display exceptional leadership skills and goal focus?
MARTIN: Ah well, it’s not for me to say
DOUGLAS: And yet, and yet…
KIERAN: Because I also display exceptional leadership skills and goal focus. And that’s a verbatim quote from my report. Are you prepared to share the techniques of your success?
MARTIN: Oh well, yes, there’s probably a tip or two I can pass along. What do you say we have you up in the flight deck once we get under way, eh?
KIERAN: I am delighted to accept!
DOUGLAS: And the small matter of the anti-terrorism laws, captain?
MARTIN: Ohh let’s not get too hide-bound by rules and regs, eh number one?
DOUGLAS: Number one?
MARTIN: Douglas.
RUTH: And when will we be getting under way, might I ask?
DOUGLAS: Ah. Of course, not having seen your sister for so long, it’s possible you may have missed certain subtle signs just now that would warn the experienced Carolyn watcher not to bank on seeing Helsinki today. Sorry to rain on your parade Martin.
MARTIN: No, no, no, my parade’s fine. Bone dry. Bad news for the import/export parade though I’d have thought. I wonder how long fresh orchids keep.
DOUGLAS: Ah. Excuse me for a moment.


CAROLYN: And how did you even pay for it?
ARTHUR: With a credit card, online.
CAROLYN: You don't have a credit card.
ARTHUR: Your credit card.
CAROLYN: My credit card!?
ARTHUR: No because it doesn’t matter, because it’s your plane, so you’re just paying yourself, it’s free!
CAROLYN: The fuel’s not free, the landing fees are not free, the business we would have had if Mister Arthur-idiot-Millener hadn't been hogging the plane isn’t free. Ah, Douglas, good. Arthur, go and tell Ruth and her hangers on to sling their collective hook.
ARTHUR: Ok. Sorry mum.
CAROLYN: And Douglas, cancel the flight plan.
DOUGLAS: Are you sure?
CAROLYN: Of course I’m sure! I’m not spending time and fuel taking my rotten sister on a jolly to Finland.
DOUGLAS: You know best. She did come all this way…
CAROLYN: Because she smelt a freebie!
DOUGLAS: Maybe. She still came though. And then there’s Arthur. Internet booking, pseudonym, secret phone calls to Lancashire. That’s a lot of work he put in, especially for an idiot.
CAROLYN: Now just call me a cynical old bat…
DOUGLAS:*Inhales*
CAROLYN: Don't even think about it. But is it entirely without the bounds of possibility that you have an ulterior motive for this trip going ahead?
DOUGLAS: Carolyn, I hope you know me better than that. At any given moment I never have fewer than seven ulterior motives in play - but even so…
CAROLYN: Would I have to talk to her?
DOUGLAS: Flying her to Finland in silence might seem a little eccentric.


RUTH: And not just for the petrol mind? There's Philip’s loss of earnings to think of, there's general wear and tear
CAROLYN: So, Ruth.
RUTH: I’m sorry, is somebody talking to me?
CAROLYN: Yes, I’m talking to you.
RUTH: Well, thank you.
CAROLYN: For what?
RUTH: For accepting you were in the wrong.
CAROLYN: I didn’t!
RUTH: Well you implicitly did by being the first to speak.
CAROLYN: No I didn't
RUTH: Well you did. So apology accepted.
CAROLYN: Apology not given
RUTH: Apology still accepted. Now what did you want?
CAROLYN: All I want is to tell exactly where you can go Ruth! And that is to-
DOUGLAS: Carolyn.
CAROLYN: -Helsinki. Would you - would you like to go to Helsinki?
RUTH: Well. I suppose now we’re here and you’ve apologized.
CAROLYN: I haven’t.
RUTH: Alright then.
CAROLYN: Good
RUTH: Yes.
ARTHUR: Hurray!
MARTIN: Incidentally Arthur, why on earth Helsinki?
ARTHUR: I’ve just always wanted to go to Helsinki. It sounds really fun!
MARTIN: What have you ever heard about Helsinki?
ARTHUR: Nothing! I mean the name!: Helsinki! How could you not have fun in Helsinki? Is like half helter skelter and half twinkly!
DOUGLAS: I’ve always thought it sounds like a sink in hell
ARTHUR: Well now you’ve spoilt it.


AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Golf Tango India, join the visual circuit at three thousand feet, turn left, follow your nose, and if you get lost, stop and ask.
DOUGLAS: Yes, thank you Carl, roger.
ARTHUR: Ah chaps? Little chap here said you said he could come up.
KIERAN: I’m not a little chap!
ARTHUR: Yes, you are.
MARTIN: Oh yes! Come on in Kieran!
ARTHUR: Uh Skipper says you can go in
KIERAN: Yes, I heard him.
ARTHUR: Um, it’s my job to tell you.
KIERAN: What a stupid job!
ARTHUR: No, you've got a stupid job!
KIERAN: I’m at school!
ARTHUR: Yeah!
MARTIN: Kieran, hello! Sit yourself down there, we call that the jump seat
KIERAN: Yes, I know!
MARTIN: Okay, so this array of screens and knobs might look very imposing, but it’s actually not so very different from your… dad’s car…What?
KIERAN: I’m sorry, it’s just I have Microsoft Flight Simulator X Deluxe Edition. I do three to four hour training every day.
DOUGLAS: Playing you mean.
KIERAN: No, I use it as a training tool.
DOUGLAS: Mmm, but it’s a game, so…playing.
KIERAN: Anyway, I’m probably familiar with more flight instruments layouts than you are.
MARTIN: Well I doubt it actually. I’ve also got Flight Simulator.
KIERAN: Oh, which edition?
MARTIN: Ninety-five.
KIERAN: And how often do you train on it?
DOUGLAS: Play on it.
MARTIN: Most days.
DOUGLAS: Hang on, hang on Martin. You come home after ten or twelve hours flying an aeroplane and then to wind down, you sit in front of the computer and pretend to fly an aeroplane.
KIERAN: Perfectly sensible procedure! Allows you to revise infrequently met hazards.
MARTIN: Yes! Exactly, you see Douglas?
DOUGLAS: I see that your life meets with the approval of the obsessive fourteen year old boy.
KIERAN: Obsessive is just a word the disorganized use for the focused.
DOUGLAS: It’s not the only word they use
MARTIN: Ignore him! Just ignore him! Now then, what did you want to ask me?
KIERAN: Ah, well, let me start by getting an idea of your hinterland. What are your outside interests?
MARTIN: Outside of what?
KIERAN: Outside flying.
MARTIN: Outside flying?
KIERAN: Yes!
MARTIN: You mean what else am I interested in apart from flying?
KIERAN: Yeah! Like ah, for instance I have Grade 7 Lute and I’m not even going to take Grade 8 ‘cause my tutor says I’d be better off spending the time getting to concert standard.
MARTIN: Well no, I don't play the lute…
KIERAN: And I’m an orange belt in karate!
DOUGLAS: Orange? Scariest of all the colors.
KIERAN: Yeah, well, it’s scary enough that I’m classified as a deadly weapon and actually forbidden by law from using my skills except in self-defense!
DOUGLAS: Goodness! How you must long for someone to clip you around the ear!
MARTIN: Douglas!


RUTH: So! This is your husband's famous executive jet!
CAROLYN: It’s not an executive jet, he’s not my husband and it’s not his. But otherwise, spot on!
RUTH: Mmm…queer little thing, isn’t it? Is the wing supposed to be doing that?
CAROLYN: Yes it is!
RUTH: And this noise is normal, is it?
CAROLYN: Perfectly normal!
RUTH: And is this supposed to come off?
CAROLYN: Yes! No, give it to me.
RUTH: How is your ex-husband, anyway?
CAROLYN: You know very well I don't talk to him.
RUTH: Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that ex-husband, I meant your other ex-husband.
CAROLYN: He’s fine, I believe.
RUTH: Oh good. I always liked Ian
CAROLYN: Yes I remember.
RUTH: Sorry to put my foot in it, I forgot you have such a complicated life.
CAROLYN: I wouldn’t call it a complicated life.
RUTH: Oh wouldn’t you? What would you call it then?
CAROLYN: A life.
ARTHUR: Oh hey ma! Ah hello auntie Ruth! Catching up? Great-would you like a drink? Orange juice? Coke?
CAROLYN: I would like a triple scotch and I would very much like to be the one that fetches it.
ARTHUR: Oh right, that’s brilliant actually, auntie Ruth where’s the cake?
RUTH: What cake?
ARTHUR: The birthday cake. Mum’s birthday cake.
RUTH: I don't know.
ARTHUR: But…didn’t you get my e-mail? Asking you to bring a cake?
RUTH: Yes I got it. I didn’t reply though, did I?
ARTHUR: Just thought you might like to bring a cake.
RUTH: Why? Because I’m just some stay-at-home-housewife who'd be only all too ever-so-pleased to do the baking for Little Miss Businesswoman Carolyn?
ARTHUR: No, I-I don't know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to surprise mum with a cake.
RUTH Then you should’ve bought a cake, shouldn’t you?
ARTHUR: Yes I should!
RUTH: Well then.


MARTIN: I And that I think basically is-is-is the the-the situation in broad terms.
KIERAN: Right. In future it’s fine just to say you don't know. Ok next question;
DOUGLAS: No, I don't think so, time for you to pop back off to your granny I rather think.
KIERAN: But I haven’t finished!
MARTIN: Yes, you have! Douglas is quite right; we are very busy up here.
KIERAN: But Capitan I wanted to ask the secret of your enormous success.
MARTIN: Uh, would you say enormous success?
KIERAN: Of course! Command position by thirty two, that’s remarkable! And there’s always something to learn from the remarkable.
MARTIN: Yes, well, I suppose that’s true. I-I wouldn’t say it myself, but um- but that’s the English disease isn’t it? We don't celebrate our success; we don't blow our own trumpet.
DOUGLAS: Can I just say sir; how inspiring it’s been to watch you fight that disease?
KIERAN: So! First things first, which flying school did you go to?
MARTIN: Ah you see, my story is even more remarkable than that, I actually put myself through my PPL and CPL.
KIERAN; Interesting, you didn’t even think it was worth applying!
MARTIN: Oh, well I did apply.
KIERAN: And turned down their offer?!
MARTIN: I didn’t- I didn’t get an offer as such, at the time.
KIERAN: Not as such?
MARTIN: Alright, not at all! So what? I did it the hard way! I did menial jobs and night shifts for years to save up for the flying hours and the instrument rating and then I saved up all over again to do the retake!
KIERAN: You failed your instrument rating?
MARTIN: I passed it eventually.
KIERAN: Good for you. Anyway I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll leave you in peace now.
MARTIN: What? No! Don't be like that! I’m a captain at thirty-two; we just agreed that was impressive!
KIERAN: Mm. It’s just your career template isn’t a close fit with my own.
MARTIN: Oh? And what’s your career template?
KIERAN: Christ College, Cambridge, RAF scholarship, two tours of duty, conversion course at Oxford Air Training, 20 years with major airline. Retire at 45. Enter politics, reach Cabinet level within six Parliamentary terms.
DOUGLAS: And when will it be our pride and privilege to have you as prime minister?
KIERAN: I assure you I have no prime ministerial ambitions. Unless my colleagues insist that that is where my duty lies.
DOUGLAS: Oh God, you probably going to make it.

DOUGLAS: Ah! Hello Arthur. Kettle on?
ARTHUR: Oh, you should have rung, I’d have, I'd have made it.
DOUGLAS: No, I wanted a little respite from Junior Mussolini. What on Earth are you doing?
ARTHUR: I’m making a cake.
DOUGLAS: Are you? Right. Out of mud and gravel?
ARTHUR: Chocolate mousse. We had six individual chocolate mousses left over from Cyprus. I thought if I kind of ground up these amaretto biscuits in them, and then put it in a dish on top of the toasted sandwich maker; they would make a sort of…
DOUGLAS: Ah. It didn’t though, did it?
ARTHUR: No.
DOUGLAS: And what’s behind this sudden enthusiasm for patisserie?
ARTHUR: Mum’s birthday! I really wanted to surprise her with a cake.
DOUGLAS: I think you’ll definitely surprise her with that one…


AIRPORT OFFICER: Er, hello please sir, welcome to Helsinki, your passports please.
RUTH: Good Lord! This is Helsinki airport? I didn’t realize Helsinki was some two bit town in the middle of nowhere or I wouldn’t have come!
AIRPORT OFFICER: Madame, I can assure you, Helsinki is a super fabulous modern city, with two international airports.
RUTH: Oh! And this is the smaller one?
AIRPORT OFFICER: This is neither of them, this is Rautavaara airfield.
MARTIN: Um…Carolyn, I-I-I- assumed you'd wanted the cheapest landing fees and Mister Millener didn’t specify…well no, obviously Mister Millener didn’t specify…
CAROLYN: No, its fine!
RUTH: So you brought all this way to sit at an airport for four hours?
CAROLYN: Look it wasn’t my idea in the first place!
RUTH: I’ve seen everything now, I really have!
AIRPORT OFFICER: Who’s next please?
ARTHUR: Is she gone? Hi!
AIRPORT OFFICER: Okay, in your…Oooh! What is this strange leaky box?
ARTHUR: It’s a secret!
AIRPORT OFFICER : Okay…you know an airport is not a good place to bring secret things into…Let us have a little look inside…Herra Isä!. What is this please?
ARTHUR: It’s a cake.
AIRPORT OFFICER: It does not look like a cake.
ARTHUR: I know. I added powdered milk to make it less runny and it didn’t make it less runny. It just made it bigger. And gave it a funny sort of smell, but it is a cake!
AIRPORT OFFICER: Sadly ehm this cake is not welcome to Finland.
ARTHUR: What?
AIRPORT OFFICER: You can’t bring it in. We have very strict rules about importing foods and this definitely does not fit into any category we have. Or will ever have.
DOUGLAS: Milo!
MILO: Ah Douglas!
DOUGLAS: My dear old friend, you don't look a day older that when we first met on that English/Finland school exchange
MILO: Ohh yeah yeah.
DOUGLAS: And to celebrate those dear old days, and because luckily I am enormously confident in my masculinity, I have bought you a bunch of flowers.
MILO: And for my part I have remembered how much you loved our various fishes of the sea and I’ve brought you fourteen boxes of them.
DOUGLAS: What a thoughtful gift! Now what’s the problem with young Arthur here?
MILO: Ah the boy is trying to bring in this bowl of…this mainly chocolate thing. This we do not allow!
DOUGLAS: Ahh I see. But surely, if he pays the new Anglo-Scandinavian mainly chocolate thing import tax, I heard about on the news…
MILO: Ahh yes, yes, of course… One hundred Euros please
DOUGLAS: One hundred? I heard it was about fifty!
MILO: No, no, it is a hundred!
DOUGLAS: Well, I was surprised when I heard it, so the next time it was mentioned, I listened really hard, and I definitely heard that it was seventy five.
MILO: Okay, seventy five Euros please!
ARTHUR: Thanks Douglas!
DOUGLAS: My pleasure.

MARTIN: Why, Douglas, why do we have to go in the café?
KIERAN: It’s not even open.
DOUGLAS: It’s for Arthur's surprise! He’s hiding behind that counter; he’s going to leap out with his sort of a cake…
ARTHUR: Hi chaps!
DOUGLAS: …so, you two wait here, and start singing when I bring Carolyn in.
MARTIN: Ohhh So, Kieran, suppose while we wait, do you have any other questions for me?
KIERAN: Thanks, I’m fine.
MARTIN: You're sure?
KIERAN: Mmm yes, I’m afraid I rather miscalibrated your utility as a resource.
MARTIN: No you didn’t! You said yourself, being a captain at thirty-two is remarkable. That’s the exact word you used.
KIERAN: Well, that does puzzle me. How old are the other captains?
MARTIN: What other captains?
KIERAN: In the airline.
MARTIN: I’m the only captain.
KIERAN: But, how does that work? You'd have to go in every flight!
MARTIN: Yes of course, we're the pilots.
DOUGLAS: Alright, everyone ready?
KIERAN: So, when you say that you’re the captain, you mean, you’re the captain out of the two of you?!
MARTIN: Yes, what’s so funny about that?
KIERAN: Nothing, nothing…Of course, that makes sense of everything!
MARTIN: What do you mean everything?
KIERAN: Well the flying school rejection, the instrument rating failure; just the general, where you are.
MARTIN: YOU LITTLE…
DOUGLAS: Martin!
KIERAN: Imagine though, all this time, I actually though you were a proper captain!
MARTIN: Right!
DOUGLAS: Martin, no!

*SLAP!*

KIERAN: Ow!
DOUGLAS: Oh dear. That’s really bad.
MARTIN: I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.
KIERAN: You hit me!
DOUGLAS: Nah, come on, it was just a little clip ‘round the ear
KIERAN: Which means, I can do this!

*sound of punches and Martin’s misery*

MARTIN: Ow no, please! No, please! Stop I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ahhh!!!
CAROLYN: What on earth is going on?!
RUTH: Kieran not again, stop that this instant!
KIERAN: No, no, Granny it’s alright, it’s alright, he hit me first! Honest!
RUTH: Of course he didn’t hit you first. Your great aunt may put on a lot of airs about this tuppeny-ha'penny little outfit, but even she wouldn’t employ pilots who hit children! CAROLYN: Oh God.
KIERAN: He did! He did, he hit me! Douglas didn’t he hit me?
DOUGLAS: He may have given you a little clip ‘round the ear.
KIERAN: Yeah, he hit me; he gave me a hit in the ear.
MARTIN: Clip ‘round, not a hit in, a clip round!
RUTH: You! You hit my grandson!
MARTIN: And he seems okay.
RUTH: You hit a defenseless child?
MARTIN: He’s NOT defenseless! He’s definitely not that!
RUTH: Right! You can expect to hear from my solicitors.
CAROLYN: Oh don't talk rot! The boy's absolutely fine.
RUTH: This is child abuse! This could go to the Court of Human Rights.
DOUGLAS: I really don't think it could.
CAROLYN: You can’t sue me; I should sue you, for what your little boy has done to my pilot.
MARTIN: Please, don't do that, I really don't want you to do that.
RUTH: You’ve done it again, haven’t you Carol?
CAROLYN: Carolyn!
RUTH: You’ve done what you always do! You’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Run an airline? You couldn’t run a sweet shop!
CAROLYN: I didn’t want to run the sweetshop! And I never said it was an airline, it’s a charter plane, and I can run it, I’ve run it for twelve years!
RUTH: Yes, and look at the state of it! Your plane's falling to bits, you've a Nissen for an office, and you’ve a daft pilot who fights children. You’ve messed it up Carol, you’ve made a muck of it, just like at school, and with the shop and with both your marriages.
CAROLYN: I’ve…I don't , you can’t!
ARTHUR: Hey! Shut up, you…horrible aunt!
RUTH: And what are you doing there, and what on earth is that…bowl of mud?
ARTHUR: IT’S A CAKE!

*Sound of Arthur throwing the 'cake' at Ruth and her screaming*

DOUGLAS: And he’s just surprised you with it.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Roger Golf Tango India, continue as clear.
MARTIN: Thank you, Sweden.
DOUGLAS: So what do we think of Helsinki on balance: twinkly helter-skelter or sink of hell?
EVERYONE: Sink of hell.
DOUGLAS: Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad!
MARTIN: Carolyn abandoned her sister and great-nephew in an airfield, Arthur paid seventy five Euros for a bowl of sludge and threw it at his aunt.
DOUGLAS: And you hit a child.
MARTIN: Yes.
CAROLYN: And were beaten up by a child.
MARTIN: Yes.
DOUGLAS: The same child.
MARTIN: Alright Douglas, I was there.
DOUGLAS: Yes, you were, on the ground, squealing for mercy.
MARTIN: Alright!
*knocking*
ARTHUR: Are you ready?
DOUGLAS: Ready! Martin dim the lights.
MARTIN: Right.
ARTHUR: Happy birthday to you.
EVERYONE: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear mom/Carolyn, happy birthday to you.
CAROLYN: Oh my goodness, well you certainly have surprised me with a cake!
DOUGLAS: Thought we might.
CAROLYN: Perhaps what’s most surprising about it is that it’s a fishcake!
ARTHUR: Yes, you see, Douglas said you actually probably were expecting a normal cake a bit…were you?
CAROLYN: A bit, maybe.
ARTHUR: Yeah! So even if we had one – and we don't have one – it wouldn’t be a proper surprise, whereas this, would be!
CAROLYN: Yes it is, and, and these…
ARTHUR: They didn’t have candles in the airport shop, they only had…
CAROLYN: Cigarettes
ARTHUR: Yeah, yeah…and there’s only twenty because…
CAROLYN: They come in packs of twenty.
ARTHUR: Well partly that, but also, as it turns out, that's as many cigarettes as you can stick in a fishcake
DOUGLAS: Every day a new of nugget of knowledge.
CAROLYN: It’s lovely Arthur, thank you very much indeed.
ARTHUR: You’re welcome.
CAROLYN: And thank you for my orchids Martin, they’re beautiful, though not quite as plentiful as the ones I saw Douglas giving that customs officer he’s in love with.
DOUGLAS: Though interestingly, about the same price. Oh! And here’s my present.
CAROLYN: I thought you'd forgotten.
DOUGLAS: Ah you didn’t fall for that, did you? No, my present can be seen if you look out to your right.
CAROLYN: Oh! They’re beautiful!
MARTIN: Wow! I’ve never seen them before.
DOUGLAS: Pretty aren’t they?
ARTHUR: What? What we looking at?
DOUGLAS: Your other right, Arthur.
ARTHUR: Oh! Wow! Brilliant!
CAROLYN: Though I’m not sure you can claim to have arranged for the Northern Lights to be switched on for me.
DOUGLAS: All I’m saying is if anyone you knew could, who would it be?
CAROLYN: Well, thank you very much.
ARTHUR: They rather put my fishcake in the shade.
DOUGLAS: It is of course a joint present from the two of us.
MARTIN: Hey!
DOUGLAS: Alright, the three of us.
PHILIP: Um…Hello.
CAROLYN: Philip! We, we didn’t know you were back there!
DOUGLAS: Rigorous crosscheck of the cabin, was it Arthur?
CAROLYN: Philip, I don't know how to tell you this; we’ve left Ruth and Kieran in Helsinki.
PHILIP: Oh. Well done you.
DOUGLAS: Hang on, I thought you were deaf.
PHILIP: Shush! It’s a secret!

Closing credits.
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:21 am

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RANSCRIPT: 2x02 Gdansk




(Carolyn comes onto the flight deck.)
MARTIN: Hello, Carolyn.
CAROLYN: Listen to this! This chamber orchestra we’re picking up – listen to what their conductor’s put under ‘Any Special Requirements’: “The first violins will not sit together; the second violins will not sit apart. The harpist will ignore you unless your aura is orange; there is nothing you can do to make your aura more orange. The tubist must on no account be given alcohol; the conductor must at all times be given alcohol. He will also require the toilet to himself for an hour before landing. And, most importantly, the bassoonist, Madame Szyszko-Bohusz, will be working under the presumption that you are trying to kill her unless proved otherwise, so avoid approaching her with blunt instruments, sharp knives or hot liquids.” Terrific! How am I supposed to serve her dinner?
DOUGLAS: Carefully.

Opening credits. This week: Gdansk!

MARTIN: Amsterdam, Golf Tango India. With you flight level three-three-zero.
AMSTERDAM ATC: Golf Tango India, radar identified. Continue as cleared.
ARTHUR: OK, here’s another list. Uh, everyone ready? Get set: the Seven Deadly Sins.
MARTIN: Yes! I know these! I know them! (scribbles frantically)
DOUGLAS: Ah, the deadly sin of Pride.
MARTIN: Stop it, Douglas! You’re making it easier for Carolyn!
DOUGLAS: Ah, the deadly sin of Envy.
MARTIN: Douglas, stop it now.
DOUGLAS: Ah, the deadly sin of Anger!
MARTIN: Stop it!
CAROLYN: Done!
MARTIN: (angry noise) Douglas was distracting me!
DOUGLAS: And done.
MARTIN: Oh!
ARTHUR: OK, let’s see. Um, yeah, Douglas got ’em all.
MARTIN: (exasperated sigh)
ARTHUR: Uh, Mum’s got ... oh. Sorry, Mum, there’s no Wrath. (He pronounces it ‘rath’)
CAROLYN: You mean Wrath. (She pronounces it ‘roth’) Of course there is.
ARTHUR: No, I’m sorry. According to this book there’s no Rath or Roth. And you’ve missed out Anger.
CAROLYN: That is Wrath, you idiot child! Have you never heard of Wrath?
DOUGLAS: You’ve certainly witnessed it often enough.
MARTIN: Sorry, Carolyn, we have to go by the book, I’m afraid, so I come second.
ARTHUR: Yeah, looks like it, Skip. Uh, let me just check ... Oh, bad luck. You’ve got Lust down twice.
MARTIN: Oh, for ...
DOUGLAS: Naughty Captain Crieff! Which one did he miss out?
ARTHUR: Uh, Pride.
DOUGLAS: Irony upon ironies.
MARTIN: Let’s do another. I’m gonna win this one.
DOUGLAS: Are you now? Then perhaps we should make it a little more interesting.
MARTIN: I’m not betting, Douglas. I’ve told you.
DOUGLAS: Why not?
MARTIN: Because I always ... B-Because it’s beneath my dignity as a captain.
ARTHUR: I’ll bet with you, Douglas.
CAROLYN: No you won’t.
ARTHUR: Oh, but Mum ...!
CAROLYN: Don’t “Oh, but Mum” me. Who owns your car?
ARTHUR: Douglas does.
CAROLYN: Well, then?
ARTHUR: He still lets me drive it.
DOUGLAS: And at a very competitive hourly rate.
MARTIN: All right, no-one’s betting anyone anything. Arthur, what is it?
ARTHUR (rifling through his book): Um .... OK, here’s one. On your marks, get set: the Seven Dwarves.
(Sounds of scribbling)
DOUGLAS: Martin, don’t forget Lusty.
MARTIN (through gritted teeth): Shut up!
CAROLYN: Done!
MARTIN: Oh, he distracted me again!
DOUGLAS: Done.
MARTIN: Oh ... OK, this is unfair.
ARTHUR: Yeah, Douglas got ’em all.
MARTIN: (exasperated noise)
ARTHUR: And Mum’s got ... oh, Mum! There’s no Loopy!
CAROLYN: Isn’t there? What’s his name, then, the stupid one?
ARTHUR: Well, I-I can’t tell you until Martin’s handed his in.
MARTIN: Oh, yes! I could still win!
DOUGLAS: I think you’ll find I won.
MARTIN: I could still come second!
DOUGLAS: Second from last.
MARTIN: I could still not lose.
CAROLYN: How many have you got?
MARTIN: Six.
CAROLYN: Ah, same as me. Have you got the stupid one?
MARTIN: Yes.
CAROLYN: What is it?
MARTIN: It’s ... (He stops himself and laughs.) No! (He chuckles.)
CAROLYN: Well, it was worth a try. Um, Silly? Dummy? Dizzy? Ditzy? Arthur?
ARTHUR (indignantly): Mum!
(Someone’s service bell bongs three times.)
CAROLYN (exasperated): Oh, for God’s sake!
(The bell bongs again three times.)
CAROLYN: If those jumped-up buskers can’t learn to leave the service bell alone, I swear I’ll cut off their thumbs!
DOUGLAS: Come fly the friendly skies.
CAROLYN: I’d better go. What was it, then, Arthur, the last Dwarf?
MARTIN: No, don’t tell her. I’m gonna remember my last one before you remember yours.
CAROLYN: Oh, for goodness’ sake, Martin, how childish. Don’t you dare help him, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Scout’s honour.
CAROLYN: Right, let’s see what the loonies want now. Ooh, Loony!
ARTHUR: No.

(The bell bongs again three times.)
CAROLYN: Madam. What seems to be the problem?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Someone has tampered with my arm-rests. Who is responsible?
CAROLYN: Ah-ha. And you must be the bassoonist, Madame Szyszko ... (She struggles with the pronunciation)
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Szyszko-Bohusz.
CAROLYN: Gesundheit.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: And how do you know I’m bassoonist? Have you been spying on me?
CAROLYN: No, madam, but your conductor described you rather vividly. And I won’t pretend it didn’t help that you’re sitting next to a bassoon.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Never am I separated from my bassoon.
CAROLYN: Oh, the clingy type, is it? Now, then, what’s wrong with your arm-rests?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: You tell me what is wrong with arm-rests.
CAROLYN: With great pleasure. In a word: nothing. In six words: nothing is wrong with your arm-rests.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: That’s seven words.
CAROLYN: “Arm-rests” is hyphenated. Well, I’m glad we’ve had this chat. I’ll see you later.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Mine are higher than the others!
CAROLYN: I think not.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: But somebody’s tampered with them!
CAROLYN: May I ask who and why – or, if you prefer, whom and whym?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Listen. I am one of world’s leading bassoonists and, believe me, there are many bassoonists who’d be very pleased to see me come to no good.
CAROLYN: And doubtless one or two cabin crew.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: So, what are you going to do?
CAROLYN: What am I going to do about your theory that, before take-off, a bassoonist or bassoonists unknown broke into the aircraft, selected this seat, fractionally elevated the arm-rests and slunk off to await the – to me – obscure but – to them – presumably inevitable and deadly consequences?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: ... Yes.
CAROLYN: I am going to suggest you swap seats with your bassoon.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Ah.

MARTIN: Come on, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: No.
MARTIN: Please?
DOUGLAS: Sorry.
MARTIN: Just tell me! I’ve gotta get my last Dwarf before Carolyn gets hers.
DOUGLAS: There’s a phrase you don’t hear so much since the dwarf-hunting ban.
MARTIN: You don’t have to say anything. Just show me your list.
DOUGLAS: I couldn’t possibly. I gave Carolyn Scout’s honour.
MARTIN: You’re not a Scout!
DOUGLAS: You know what they say: once a Scout, always a Scout.
MARTIN: You were never a Scout.
DOUGLAS: You know what they say: never a Scout, always a Scout.
MARTIN: Come on, Douglas! I just want to win something for once!
DOUGLAS: Ah, well, if that’s what you want ...
MARTIN: No.
DOUGLAS: ... let’s see: twenty quid says ...
MARTIN: No.
DOUGLAS: ... the ATC at Warsaw is female.
MARTIN: Douglas, I told you, I’m not betting ... Female?
DOUGLAS: Yep.
MARTIN: But they’re nearly all male.
DOUGLAS: Well, then, you’ll probably win, won’t you?
MARTIN: You must know something. You must somehow know who’s on duty.
DOUGLAS: How could I possibly know a thing like that? So, are we on?
MARTIN: Not for money.
DOUGLAS (sighing): Have it your way. I bet you the cheese tray.
MARTIN: Not the whole tray. The Emmental.
DOUGLAS: The Brie.
MARTIN: Fine. I bet you the Brie that Warsaw Control ... is female.
DOUGLAS: No, I said I bet she’s female.
MARTIN: I know you did, but since you don’t know either way, you won’t mind taking the more likely bet, will you?
DOUGLAS: No. No, I won’t.
MARTIN: Good! Then I bet you she’s female.
DOUGLAS: You’re on.
MARTIN (into radio): Warsaw Control, Golf Tango India. Could we have the latest Gdansk weather, please?
WARSAW ATC (male): Golf Tango India ...
MARTIN: Oh!
WARSAW ATC: Wind shifting twelve, three quarters visibility, scattered thunderclouds.
MARTIN (furious): Bloody hell!
WARSAW ATC: Well, I’m sorry. They’re quite little thunderclouds.
MARTIN: Roger, Warsaw. (He switches off the radio.) I thought you knew it was a woman.
DOUGLAS: No. I just relied on you assuming I did. Never mind, Martin. You lose some ...
(He pauses for a long moment.)
DOUGLAS: ... don’t you?
MARTIN: The expression is, “You win some, you lose some.”
DOUGLAS: That’s the expression, yes.
MARTIN: Come on, I win things sometimes.
DOUGLAS: Do you, Captain?
MARTIN: Y-Yes I do, First Officer. Don’t forget that, hmm? If I’m such a loser, how come I’m the one with four stripes on my arm?
DOUGLAS: Ah, there you have me.
MARTIN: Well, I am, and that’s when I’m at work, mind you, not just round the house to impress my wife.
DOUGLAS (furious): How dare you bring that up?
MARTIN (embarrassed): Douglas ...
DOUGLAS: I revealed something deeply personal and private to you in a moment of vulnerability and you use it as a cheap shot.
MARTIN: I’m really sorry, Douglas. I didn’t mean to ... No, wait a minute, that’s not what happened. You didn’t reveal anything to me. I caught you out by accident after you’d done everything you could to hide it.
DOUGLAS: Nevertheless ...
MARTIN: No, there’s no “nevertheless”. That makes it fair game. How’s it any different from all the things you constantly tease me about, like my height, or the number of goes I took to get my CPL, or the time I landed with the brakes on?
DOUGLAS: They’re all funny.
MARTIN: Well, it’s funny you pretending to your wife you’re a captain. It doesn’t stop it being funny just because it’s about you.
DOUGLAS: Yes it does.
MARTIN: No it doesn’t!

(Service bell bongs five times.)
CAROLYN: Ms Szyszko-Bohusz, we meet again. Don’t be shy about ringing that service bell, by the way. I don’t want you to be worried about annoying me.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: I’m not.
CAROLYN: Now that’s a weight off my mind. Now then, how can I help?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What is this on my cashew nuts?
CAROLYN: Are you ... can you be pointing at the salt?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: This does not look like the salt I know!
CAROLYN: And what does it look like? Tiny transparent hand grenades?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: It looks like broken glass!
CAROLYN: It’s salt!
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Salt does not look this way! Salt is little round balls. These are big jagged ...
CAROLYN: Oh, for pity’s sake!
(She snatches the packet from the tray.)
CAROLYN: Satisfied?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: You have eaten my cashews.
CAROLYN: I have eaten one of your cashews.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: There were only five in the packet.
CAROLYN: Now there are only four.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Can I have more cashews?
CAROLYN: My pleasure. With salt or broken glass?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Salt. With salt. Only with salt!
CAROLYN: I will make a note of it.

AMSTERDAM ATC: Golf Tango India, contact Maastricht on frequency one-two-six decimal five.
(Silence.)
AMSTERDAM ATC: Golf Tango India, this is Amsterdam, do you read me?
(Silence.)
AMSTERDAM ATC: Golf Tango India, this is Amsterdam. I say again, do you read me?
(Sound of Martin violently and noisily exhaling. He gasps a couple of times.)
MARTIN (breathless): Golf Tango India. Apologies, Amsterdam. Microphone intermittent. Roger Maastricht on one-two-six decimal five.
(He groans as he catches his breath. Douglas exhales noisily.)
DOUGLAS: Oh, bad luck, Captain.
MARTIN: Look, that doesn’t count. I was answering ATC.
DOUGLAS: Sorry, Martin. The bet was just who could hold their breath longest. So that’s the Brie, Roquefort and the squidgy one in the foil packet to me.
(Martin groans plaintively.)
DOUGLAS: Just the Emmental and the crackers still in play.
(Cabin door opens.)
ARTHUR: Coffee, gents? And, uh, message from Mum: have you forgotten to turn the seatbelt signs off, you pair of ... Have you forgotten to turn the seatbelt signs off?
DOUGLAS: No, no, not forgotten, no.
ARTHUR: Oh! Passenger Derby?!
DOUGLAS: We thought so, yes.
ARTHUR: Great! Can I do the commentary?
DOUGLAS: If you’d be so kind.
ARTHUR: Brilliant! Hang on.
(He leaves the cabin. Beep from the intercom.)
ARTHUR (over intercom): OK, chaps, ready.
MARTIN: So this is for the Emmental?
DOUGLAS: Well ... Arthur? What are the puddings today?
ARTHUR: Oh, um, strudel and cheesecake.
DOUGLAS: Perfect. Martin, I see your Emmental and I raise you my cheesecake.
MARTIN: I see your cheesecake with my strudel.
DOUGLAS: Excellent! All right, Arthur, take us through the runners and riders.
ARTHUR: Thank you, Douglas! Well, welcome to the five thirty-five from ... up in the air. The conditions are perfect, the seatbelt sign’s been on for over forty minutes, I’ve been round with the drinks trolley twice, and they’re really squirming for the off. The favourites, of course, are the runners in Row A – today the trombone player who looks like Winston Churchill and the little clarinettist with the head that’s too big for him. Who do you want, Skip?
MARTIN: Who looks keenest?
ARTHUR: Well, they’re both pretty wriggly. Uh, but the trombonist is making little meowing noises.
MARTIN: I’ll take him.
ARTHUR: Uh, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Where’s the older lady in the Harry Potter glasses?
ARTHUR: Uh, Row C.
DOUGLAS: OK, I’ll take her. I happened to watch her claiming overhead luggage space and it was a very promising display. Some really useful elbow work.
MARTIN: Ah, well, it’s not fair if you’ve already ...
DOUGLAS: Too late.
(‘Bing’ as he turns off the seatbelt sign.)
ARTHUR: And they’re off! And it’s Trombone Churchill taking an early lead. He had his seatbelt undone behind his paper. Classic manoeuvre there. But he’s slow out of the chair and it’s Little Bighead who’s up in the aisle first. Little Bighead looking strong but, oh! He’s tangled with a stray cellist! And now Trombone Churchill’s making up ground! But who’s this streaking up on the outside? It’s Harry Potter’s Granny! She’s past Little Bighead, she’s past Wandering Cellist! And in the final straight it’s neck and neck between Trombone Churchill and Potter’s Gran! Potter’s Gran and Trombone Churchill as they reach the door and oh! Trombone Churchill takes an elbow to the gut and it’s Potter’s Gran! She’s in and she’s safe!
DOUGLAS: Yes!
MARTIN: Nooo!
ARTHUR: Bad luck, Skip. Not your day.
MARTIN: Not my life.

ARTHUR: Good evening, madam. Beef or trout?
FEMALE PASSENGER: Beef, please.
ARTHUR: And for you, madam? Beef or trout?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Who are you?
ARTHUR: Arthur. Oh, I mean, um, my name is Arthur, I’m privileged to be serving yourself as part of your onboard team onboard today onboard.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: No. No, this is no good. Where is the old woman?
ARTHUR: ... Right. I don’t know who you mean by that, madam, but I wouldn’t call her an old woman.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ (calling out): Old woman!
ARTHUR: Oh dear.
(The service bell dings repeatedly.)
CAROLYN: Yes, yes, yes, ring out wild bells in the wild sky.
(The bell continues dinging.)
CAROLYN: And who, I wonder, is the wild bell ringer? Who could it possibly be?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: It’s me, it’s me! See, my light is on!
CAROLYN: And yet nobody’s home. My dear Ms Szyszko-Bohusz, how can I help you?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: This boy. Who is this boy? I have not seen this boy before.
CAROLYN: And your theory, no doubt, is that the Bassoonist Black-Hand Gang, having been cruelly foiled in the matter of the arm-rests and the cashew nuts, have sent him to serve you a poisoned trout.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Do you not believe I have enemies?
CAROLYN: On the contrary, I find that astonishingly easy to believe. This, however, is not one of them. This is my son Arthur, and I promise you he couldn’t hurt a fly.
ARTHUR: Thanks, Mum!
CAROLYN: Because the fly would outwit him. If you will excuse me, I have a violinist fight to arbitrate. Ooh, and Arthur, Goofy?
ARTHUR: What?
CAROLYN: The thing we were talking about earlier in the flight deck. The last one of seven. It’s Goofy, isn’t it?
ARTHUR: Oh! No, Mum. Goofy! (He laughs.)
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What was that? What’s going on?
CAROLYN: Oh, nothing, nothing, doesn’t matter.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: It’s a code, isn’t it? What does it mean? What’s happening?
CAROLYN: No, really, nothing.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Do you think I don’t know about these codes? I know all about them. Inspector Sands: fire in the theatre. Mr. Westman: bomb on a train. What’s Goofy?
CAROLYN: It was just a private drama ...
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What does it mean? You must tell me now.
CAROLYN: Yes, you’re quite right. That’s what we do. We alert crew to emergencies, not with the convenient intercom in the galley but by furtively whispering the names of Disney characters at each other. “Donald Duck” means ‘lethal bird strike’; “Dumbo” means ‘pilot’s dropped his magic feather’; “Shere Khan” means ‘tiger in the flight deck’ ... You happy now?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: No. What is Goofy?
CAROLYN: Goofy is a cartoon cow.
ARTHUR: Mum! He’s a dog!

(Arthur enters the flight deck.)
ARTHUR: Here we are, gents. Uh, cheesecake for you, Douglas, and strudel for you ... Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Arthur, and thank you, Martin.
MARTIN (sulky): Enjoy it. I didn’t want it anyway.
DOUGLAS: Isn’t that lucky?
MARTIN: I mean it. Strudel’s horrible. No-one likes strudel.
DOUGLAS: I refute your argument thus: strudel’s terrific. Everyone likes strudel!
MARTIN: All right, then. I bet you more of the passengers choose cheesecake than strudel.
DOUGLAS: Very well. I bet you twenty quid more of the punters pick strudel than cheesecake.
ARTHUR: There you go, Skip, your luck’s changing. You can’t lose this one. Cheesecake’s always more popular.
MARTIN: Oh no. Must be a trick. He must know something.
DOUGLAS: What could I possibly know?
MARTIN: Well, I dunno. The orchestra’s sponsored by the Anglo-Polish Strudel Appreciation Society, or the International League Against Cheesecake.
DOUGLAS: Well, you can take strudel if you like.
MARTIN: Yes, I’ll take strudel.
DOUGLAS: Fine.
MARTIN: No, hang on, this is how you diddled me with the female Air Traffic Controllers.
ARTHUR: Crikey!
MARTIN: You made me pick the bad bet. You want me to pick strudel. I want cheesecake.
DOUGLAS: Fine. It’s yours.
MARTIN: Hang on! That was too easy! You knew I’d work that out! I want strudel.
DOUGLAS: Are you sure?
MARTIN: Yes. No! Yes! So therefore ... no. No. Yes! Strudel?
DOUGLAS: Strudel? All right, then, you’re on.
MARTIN: Oh God! I’ve ended up with strudel! No-one likes strudel!
DOUGLAS: Seems an odd choice, certainly. I’d have picked cheesecake.
MARTIN: (frustrated sound)
ARTHUR: Cheer up, Skipper. You never know your luck.
MARTIN: I always know my luck.
ARTHUR: Well, I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Skip.
MARTIN: Yes. Arthur, what are you doing with your face?
ARTHUR: I’m winking.
MARTIN: You’re only supposed to use one eye.
ARTHUR: I know, but I can only do that if I hold the other one open with my finger, and I thought Douglas would notice.
DOUGLAS: You’re making the mistake of thinking Douglas cares.

ARTHUR: Cheesecake or strudel, madam? And may I especially recommend the strudel? It’s a lovely strudel.
FEMALE PASSENGER: Yes, all right, the strudel.
ARTHUR: Good choice! And-and for you, madam? There’s our splendid strudel – tender delicious slices of piping hot apple with a rich golden-brown crust; or a bit of old cheesecake.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What’s the cheesecake like?
ARTHUR: Well, you know, cheesecakey. They’re all much of a muchness, cheesecakes, aren’t they?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What flavour is it?
ARTHUR: I don’t know. I’m not sure it even has a flavour. Cheesecake flavour. The strudel is apple.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: It must have a flavour.
ARTHUR: Uh, let’s see. “Rasp-berry.” Eugh. Sounds awful.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: “Raspberry.”
ARTHUR: Oh, yeah. Still. Boring!
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: I’ll have the cheesecake, please.
ARTHUR (whispering): Don’t have the cheesecake.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: What? Why not?
ARTHUR (whispering): I can’t tell you why, but don’t!
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ (binging her service bell repeatedly): Everybody! Stop eating the cheesecake! It’s poisoned! The cheesecake is poisoned!
(Murmurs of concern from the passengers.)
CAROLYN: Uh, ladies-ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention for a moment. I must apologise for my junior cabin attendant’s slightly over-zealous promotion of the strudel today. What can I say? The boy loves a strudel, and the strudel is certainly excellent – as, however, is the cheesecake. They are both delicious and non-poisonous choices. Thank you.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: You eat some, then.
CAROLYN: I beg your pardon?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: If it’s so safe, let’s see you eat a slice. Now!
(Sounds of agreement from the passengers.)
MALE PASSENGER: You eat it!
CAROLYN: Arthur, eat some cheesecake.
ARTHUR: Best order ever!
(He tucks in.)
CAROLYN: You see? A revolting display but, I hope, a reassuring one.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Look, everyone! She won’t eat it! That must be what “Goofy” means. It’s airline code for poison in the cheesecake!
CAROLYN: It’s not poisoned!
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Well, eat it, then.
MALE PASSENGER: Yes, go on!
CAROLYN: I don’t want to.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Ha!
MALE PASSENGER: Why not?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Yes, why not?
CAROLYN: Because it’s horrible, all right? It’s not poisoned, it’s just revolting. Tastes like the pink stuff you bite into at the dentist, laid on a bed of fish tank gravel. And if it was ever even shown a picture of a raspberry, it wasn’t looking. But it is not poisoned.

DOUGLAS: A little underhand, wasn’t it, Martin – asking Arthur to cheat for you?
MARTIN: I didn’t ask him to. It was all his idea. I won fair and square.
DOUGLAS: Did you?
(He activates the intercom.)
DOUGLAS: Arthur, how many people went for the strudel in the end?
ARTHUR: Uh, five.
DOUGLAS: And the cheesecake?
ARTHUR: Eight.
MARTIN: What?! Even though they thought it was poisoned?!
ARTHUR: Sorry, Skip. Everyone hates strudel.
(Martin groans.)
DOUGLAS: That’ll be twenty quid, please, Captain.
MARTIN: Right. Double or quits. I bet you ... I bet you I can land in Gdansk on time.
DOUGLAS: No, that was the last bet. Rien ne va plus.
MARTIN: Y-you can’t stop now.
DOUGLAS: Sorry. Bored of betting, and I need to devote my attention to consuming this mountain of tiny cheeses.
MARTIN: Fifty quid! A hundred!
DOUGLAS: Sorry, Martin, nothing doing.
MARTIN: Afraid of losing, are you?
DOUGLAS: Looking back on our time together today, Martin, do you think that’s what I’m afraid of?
MARTIN: Well, I’m sure we can find something of mine you want. How about my spare captain’s epaulets? Helena must be wondering why yours are so worn out.
DOUGLAS (angrily): All right, Sonny Jim. A month’s salary.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: You heard. You wanna bet? We’ll bet. A month’s salary says you don’t land on time.
MARTIN: I didn’t mean ... A month’s salary’s a bit ...
DOUGLAS: You’re right. We might as well do it properly. Three months’ salary.
MARTIN: No! I didn’t mean ...
DOUGLAS: I thought you wanted to bet. I thought you wanted to win at something.
MARTIN: Your salary or mine?
DOUGLAS: Yours if you lose; mine if I lose. Are we on?
MARTIN: You’ll just radio an emergency or something.
DOUGLAS: No, no tricks. I’m quite happy to rely on your natural bad luck and incompetence. Are we on?
MARTIN: We’re on.
ATC (over radio): Golf Tango India, for your information, Speed Bird zero-zero-seven has reported thundercloud build-up on your route fifty miles ahead. Advise your intentions.
MARTIN (wearily): Golf Tango India, will advise. (He deactivates the radio.) Douglas, how did you make there be a thunderstorm?
DOUGLAS: I fear you may be confusing me with Thor. Though of course I do seem to remember when you asked Warsaw for the weather earlier something about scattered thunderclouds. But, because I’m wonderful, I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll offer you a different stake.
MARTIN: Go on.
DOUGLAS: Instead of three months’ salary, you may bet me all rights in perpetuity to the story of me letting Helena believe I’m a captain.
MARTIN: What do you mean?
DOUGLAS: I mean if you lose, you never ever get to tell, mention, allude to or hint at that story, so long as we both shall live. Understand?
MARTIN: Yes.
DOUGLAS: I take it we’re on?
MARTIN: No.
DOUGLAS: What?
MARTIN: I need that story. I have to have something, and now I’ve tasted having something, I can’t go back.
DOUGLAS: And you’ll pay three months’ salary for the privilege?
MARTIN: Or I’ll fly through the thunderstorm. I haven’t decided yet.

CAROLYN: So, Madame S-B ...
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: My name is Szyszko-Bohusz.
CAROLYN: Believe me, I shall remember it as long as I live. Now then, I have eaten the cheesecake, Arthur has eaten the cheesecake.
ARTHUR: Four slices.
CAROLYN: And we remain both hale and hearty – Arthur disgustingly so.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Yes, I’m-I’m sorry. Sometimes I get a little, uh, what is the word? Deranged?
CAROLYN: I suspect not the one you mean, but a good one nevertheless. Listen to me: I am in charge of your safety. I am a terrifically wise and capable woman with many years’ flying experience, and I personally guarantee that all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well, all right?
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Yes, all right. Except ... my service bell, it seems to have stopped working.
CAROLYN: Imagine that!
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: But still, in an emergency ...
CAROLYN: In an emergency, madam, you can tootle your bassoon.

MARTIN (on tannoy): Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, Captain Crieff here speaking. We should be landing in Gdansk in just under twenty minutes. I apologise for our ... delayed arrival. We had to divert around a thunderstorm en route. Cabin crew: twenty minutes to landing.
DOUGLAS: Bad luck, Captain.
MARTIN: I had to go round it.
DOUGLAS: Fine.
MARTIN: It would have been reckless not to.
DOUGLAS: You don’t have to justify it to me.
MARTIN: You accept the bet’s off, then?
DOUGLAS: No.
MARTIN: But, Douglas, it was a thunderstorm!
DOUGLAS: God moves in mysterious ways in order to do lovely things for Douglas Richardson. But, because I am even more wonderful than previously stated, my earlier offer still stands. Promise never to mention my wife’s mis-apprehension ever again and we’re all square.
MARTIN: No.
DOUGLAS: Really? You’d rather pay me three months’ salary?
MARTIN: Yes, I would. In fact, I’ll give it to you now.
DOUGLAS: Well, you can’t ...
MARTIN: Nothing plus nothing is nothing; add another nothing and that’s ... a grand total of bugger-all.
DOUGLAS: What are you talking about?
MARTIN: I don’t have a salary. (He sighs.) Look, when I had my interview with Carolyn, it wasn’t to be captain, it was to be first officer, and by the end I ... (he groans) ... I could see I wasn’t gonna get it, so I said ... last-ditch try ... I said I’d work for half of whatever she gave the last guy, and this funny light came into her eyes and she said, “A third,” and I said, “No,” and there were some pretty heavy negotiations and ... we agreed on a quarter, only then when I was leaving she said, “How little would you take to be captain?” and after some more ... negotiation, we decided I would be captain and ... she wouldn’t pay me at all. My salary is nothing. And three times nothing is nothing. So .... so, so! I’ve tricked you! Ha! Yeah! Now you’re the loser!
DOUGLAS: Yes. The point of that story certainly is that I’m the loser. Bad luck, Martin.
MARTIN (plaintively): Why can’t I ever win something – ever?! Being someone who doesn’t win often – I could take that.
DOUGLAS: Well, obviously I can’t help you with that but, changing the subject entirely, are you feeling quite well?
MARTIN: Yeah, just miserable.
DOUGLAS: ’Cause you look rather poorly.
MARTIN: No, no, I’m fine.
DOUGLAS: I don’t know, Martin. You’re looking very pale – positively snow white.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: I was wondering if you had that nasty bug that’s going around – the one with the seven symptoms.
MARTIN (finally catching on): I ... might have that, yes. I’ve, uh, I’ve definitely got some of them.
DOUGLAS: I thought so. For instance, you might have been feeling rather ... lethargic?
MARTIN: Yes, I’ve got that one ... that symptom.
DOUGLAS: Right. Lethargic, perhaps, to the point of feeling groggy, slow-witted, as if drugged?
MARTIN (chuckling): Yes, I’ve got that too.
DOUGLAS: Then there’s the mood swings. One minute you’re euphoric; the next you’re oddly irritable.
MARTIN (laughing): Yes, both of them. That’s four.
DOUGLAS: Right. Er, there are physical symptoms too: inflammation of the nasal passages leading to bouts of ...
MARTIN: Yeah, got him ... that.
DOUGLAS: And, of course, that can make you feel self-conscious.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Shy.
MARTIN: Oh! Yeah, got that one.
DOUGLAS: Right. So my advice to you is that you seek out a health care professional.
MARTIN: Douglas, if you’re just tormenting me ...
DOUGLAS: No, Martin, listen. If you have those six symptoms, I strongly recommend you seek out a medic.
MARTIN: Just tell me!
DOUGLAS: I can’t tell you, Martin. I promised, Scout’s honour. The person who can tell you is a GP! A quack! A sawbones!
MARTIN: What?!
DOUGLAS: Someone who can tell you, in the immortal words of Bugs Bunny, “What’s up?”
MARTIN: Ohhhhh!

(The orchestra’s Conductor flushes and comes out of the toilet.)
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Ah, Maestro, a pleasant hour?
CONDUCTOR: Ah, most satisfactory, thank you. You are feeling calmer, madam? I gather you had a troubled flight.
MADAME SZYSZKO-BOHUSZ: Oh, Maestro, you have no idea, with the arm-rests and the big salt and the Disney code and the cheesecake! But the old woman – she’s rude and ill-favoured but somehow I trust her. All is well. There is nothing to worry about.
CONDUCTOR: Uh, good.
(Bing-bong.)
MARTIN: This is Captain Crieff with an urgent message for the cabin crew. Sleepy, Dopey, Happy, Grumpy, Sneezy, Bashful, Doc. Thank you!
(Madame Szyszko-Bohusz draws in a huge breath and begins blowing her bassoon frantically.)
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:23 am

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CABIN PRESSURE 2x03 Ipswich


OPENING CREDITS - This week, Ipswich!



DOUGLAS: Golf Tango India, continue as cleared. Thank you, Shannon.

MARTIN: Do you want any more of this, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: No, I don't think so, I think I'm done.

MARTIN: All right. Arthur!

ARTHUR: Yeah, Skip.

MARTIN: Cheese tray is now open to Arthurs.

ARTHUR: Oh, brilliant! Thanks, chaps. Oh, wow, almost a whole squidgy one! (unwraps and chews loudly) It's funny, this is like something I saw on a wildlife show last night.

DOUGLAS: I was just thinking something similar myself...

ARTHUR: No, it was these African hunting dogs, and what they've got is they've got an alpha dog, beta dogs, and "amigo" dogs.

MARTIN: Amigo dogs?

DOUGLAS: Surely you've heard of amigo dogs. Spanish breed, very friendly, often found in threes...

MARTIN: Omega? Do you mean omega?

ARTHUR: (still chewing) Oh, yeah, maybe. Anyway, when they kill something, the alpha dog eats as much as he wants first, then the beta dogs have a go, and then the "amigo" dogs have the leftovers. And that's like us, isn't it?

MARTIN: Well, not really, because Douglas and I share the cheese tray.

ARTHUR: So?

MARTIN: Well, so the alpha dog and the beta dog are eating together.

DOUGLAS: And which is which, pray?

MARTIN: I think that's perfectly obvious, don't you?

DOUGLAS: Yes, I do.

MARTIN: So do I.

DOUGLAS: Good.

ARTHUR: No, no, I meant you're the two beta dogs.

MARTIN: What?

ARTHUR: Because Mum always has the Camembert off the tray before I bring it in?

MARTIN: What?!

DOUGLAS: There's Camembert?! We never get any Camembert!

ARTHUR: Though thinking about it, that is a secret.

MARTIN: Carolyn!

(door opens)

CAROLYN: Gentlemen!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, we have a complaint.

CAROLYN: Oh dear me. Tell you what, why don't you write it down, put it in an envelope, tear it in half, throw it away and shut your face. In the mean time, attend: are you busy on Monday?

MARTIN and DOUGLAS: Yes.

CAROLYN: Quite right, full marks. Now, prepare to learn what it is you will be busy doing.

MARTIN: No, Carolyn, Monday's a day off. It's been on the wall chart for ages.

CAROLYN: Wall charts can lie, Martin, notoriously deceitful, the wall chart. Anyway, on Monday you'll be delighted to learn I have booked us a refresher SEP course.

MARTIN: Oh, no!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn!

ARTHUR: What's a... that?

MARTIN: Safety and Emergency Procedures. Amongst other things, jumping into a cold swimming pool in uniform and scrambling into life rafts.

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

MARTIN: No, that's a bad... Oh, never mind.

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, I don't need a refresher.

CAROLYN: 'course you do. Procedures change, Douglas. Aircraft change.

DOUGLAS: The only time this aircraft changes is when another bit falls off it.

CAROLYN: Well, procedures change.

DOUGLAS: Is it still pull to go up, push to go down?

CAROLYN: Yes.

DOUGLAS: I'm fine then.

CAROLYN: You are all going, because if you don't, the CAA will stop you flying, and although Heaven knows that's not a bad idea, my job depends on preventing it.

ARTHUR: Where is it?

CAROLYN: Ipswich.

ARTHUR: Oh, brilliant, where I went before. Will there be more learning how to understand people?

CAROLYN: No, Arthur, I think you understand as much about people as you ever will.

ARTHUR: Thanks, Mum, what a nice thing to say.

CAROLYN: Case in point.



(sounds of cars, loud honking)

CAROLYN: Oh, pipe down! Do you not have overtaking in Ipswich?

ARTHUR: Give me another one, Mum.

CAROLYN: All right. How many loud hailers are there in the aft cabinet?

ARTHUR: OK. And aft is the... one at the... front?

CAROLYN: Back.

ARTHUR: Back, back, I meant back.

CAROLYN: The fore comes before the aft that comes after.

DOUGLAS: I haven't heard that one before.

CAROLYN: That's because no one but Arthur has ever needed a mnemonic for fore and aft.

MARTIN: Two in the aft cabinet, none in the fore, one in the flight deck.

CAROLYN: Yes, Martin, but please try and let Arthur answer one.

DOUGLAS: How do you know all this stuff, Martin?

MARTIN: It is my duty to be familiar with the safety equipment of the aircraft I command.

DOUGLAS: Goodness. Harken to the mighty woof of the alpha dog.

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: Arthur was telling us about that documentary. Martin is labouring under the delusion that he is the alpha dog in this organisation.

CAROLYN: Aha! Whereas you of course correctly reminded him that I am.

DOUGLAS: You have the loudest bark, certainly, but I like to think I am the one who brings down the hartebeest.

ARTHUR: Douglas, you give me a question.

DOUGLAS: Oh, I don't know any of this stuff.

MARTIN: Then how do you think you're gonna pass the exam?

DOUGLAS: Luck.

MARTIN: You can't rely on luck!

DOUGLAS: You can't rely on luck.

ARTHUR: Skip, you give me one.

MARTIN: All right. At what number of passengers does it become compulsory to carry at least one flight attendant?

ARTHUR: Well, we always carry at least one, so therefore... no passengers?

MARTIN: No, nineteen.

ARTHUR: Oh, all right. It depends though.

MARTIN: No, no, it doesn't depend. The answer is nineteen.

ARTHUR: Yeah, but if it's somewhere nice Mum will come. Or if the passengers are important. Or if she's bored.

MARTIN: Yes, but if you say any of that, you'll fail, whereas if you say 19, you won't fail. Do you understand that? 19, 19 passengers, one cabin crew. 19.

DOUGLAS: 19.

MARTIN: 19.

CAROLYN: Will you all please stop saying 19?

ARTHUR: I didn't say 19!

MARTIN: That is exactly the problem!

(car stops)

DR DUNCAN: Hello! Hello! Miss Knapp-Shappey?

CAROLYN: That's right, yes.

DR DUNCAN: Hello, I'm Dr Duncan, Peter Duncan, not the Peter Duncan.

CAROLYN: Not which Peter Duncan?

DR DUNCAN: Who's Peter Duncan?

DR DUNCAN: Peter Duncan, from Blue Peter in the 80s. And Duncan Dares.

ARTHUR: Oh yes, I remember him! He was great!

DR DUNCAN: Yes, well, I'm not him. A-ha-ha!

ARTHUR: Oh.

CAROLYN: Jolly good, now this is Captain Martin Crieff, First Officer Douglas Richardson-

DR DUNCAN: Hello-

CAROLYN: No, no, no, the other way around.

MARTIN: Oh, for the love of...

CAROLYN: And Arthur Shappey, steward.

DR DUNCAN: Right, so, you're the advanced guard, are you?

CAROLYN: How do you mean?

DR DUNCAN: Well, just that the others haven't arrived yet.

CAROLYN: Which others would those be?

DR DUNCAN: Well, the... rest of the airline?

CAROLYN: Dr Duncan, you see before you... the airline! Drink us in.

DR DUNCAN: There's four hundred of you?

CAROLYN: Are there though? Count again.

DR DUNCAN: Not 400.

CAROLYN: Four.

DR DUNCAN: Right. That's unfortunate. I should probably speak to catering. Anyway, welcome, I'll be looking after the classroom side of things, and Mr Sargent - Mr Sargent! Can I borrow you?

MR SARGENT: Good morning!

DR DUNCAN: After a quick CRM lecture, Mr Sargent will be putting you through the pool drill, then after lunch we'll have the exam and finally, Mr Sargent will take you through the smoke-filled fuselage.

DOUGLAS: Metaphorically?

MR SARGENT: No, sir, not metaphorically, sir, no. We 'ad a bit of a job gettin' our 'ands on a metaphorical fuselage, sir, and even if you can track one down it's a bugger to unfill it with a simile of some smoke.

DOUGLAS: I see. Tell me, Mr Sargent, were you in the RAF by any chance?

MR SARGENT: I certainly was.

DOUGLAS: And were you a sergeant, Mr Sargent?

MR SARGENT: No, sir, I wasn't a sergeant, because as we just established, I was in the RA bleedin' F, not the bleedin' army, so I was a warrant officer. But since my name is not Warren Tofficer, this occasioned no bleedin' mirth whatsoever.

DR DUNCAN: Right, good! Good to get that sorted out, now if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna dash off and do what I can to hold back 400 quiches.



MARTIN: Must you sit at the back, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: I always sit at the back.

MARTIN: But there's only two of us in a lecture theatre with 500 seats.

DOUGLAS: Some of which are at the back.

DR DUNCAN: Sorry I'm late, chaps, trying to intercept the caterers.

MARTIN: Did you manage?

DR DUNCAN: No. Hope you've got an appetite. Right, Douglas, do you want to join us down here, maybe?

DOUGLAS: No, I'm fine.

DR DUNCAN: Right, fair enough. All right, well, um, why don't we come and join you at the back?

MARTIN: Oh, for goodness sake...

(sound of footsteps)

DR DUNCAN: Now then, I want to talk to you today about the potentially dangerous mindsets a pilot can get themselves into, and in particular what are known as the six deadly Is. These are...

MARTIN: Impatience, impulsivity, invulnerability, insecurity, indecision and "I know best".

DR DUNCAN: Absolutely, yes, gosh, well done. So, let's take them one by one. "I know best" is the anti-authority attitude that rules and regulations don't apply to you, that you make up your own laws. Now, I don't know if either of you have ever flown with anyone like that-

MARTIN: Yeah, me, I have, yes, I definitely have.

DR DUNCAN: Right, well, don't name any names...

MARTIN: Oh no, no, no, certainly not, no, no, no, let's um, let's call him... Dougal. Dougal ignores safety briefings, tech checks, he can barely be persuaded to file a flight plan, he basically thinks he's always right.

DOUGLAS: Has it occurred to you that maybe Dougal is always right?

MARTIN: Hah, it's definitely occurred to Dougal.

DR DUNCAN: O-kay. Great. Well next, impulsivity. That's the tendency of some pilots to panic under pressure, to do the first thing they think of just for the sake of doing something. Now again, you may never have...

DOUGLAS: Actually, that does ring a little bell.

DR DUNCAN: Oh well, again, without naming names...

DOUGLAS: No, that would be the height of iniquity. Well, this chap, could be literally any of the other pilots in MJN Air, let's call him Marvin, once requested an emergency landing because his watch went off.

MARTIN: It was a new watch with a very odd alarm.

DOUGLAS: Oh. Have you flown with Marvin, Martin? Curious chap, isn't he?

DR DUNCAN: Then there's insecurity - always trying to prove he's as good a pilot as anyone else.

DOUGLAS: Marvin.

DR DUNCAN: Impatience - sacrifices procedure or even safety to save time...

MARTIN: Dougal.

DR DUNCAN: ...and finally indecision: getting caught in the headlights of a problem and being unable to settle on a plan of action.

DOUGLAS: And Marvin.

MARTIN: I thought you said Marvin impulsively did the first thing he thought of!

DOUGLAS: Amazingly, he manages to combine both, doing whichever is least appropriate to the situation.

DR DUNCAN: OK, well, what's good here is that we're fostering a real openness between the two of you.

DOUGLAS: Yes, that is good, isn't it?

MARTIN: Hmm, well done us!



CAROLYN: All right. Where are the asbestos fire gloves kept?

ARTHUR: Yes, brilliant, I know this one. In the galley, on top of the microwave.

CAROLYN: No, they're behind the captain's seat.

ARTHUR: They're not, though. They're on top of the microwave.

CAROLYN: Yes, I know that's where they actually are-

ARTHUR: Right then.

CAROLYN: -but that's not where you should say they are.

ARTHUR: Why not?

CAROLYN: Because we probably shouldn't let the CAA examiner know we use vital safety equipment as oven gloves.

(MR SARGENT coughs)

CAROLYN: Ah, Mr Sargent. I was just...

MR SARGENT: I didn't hear a thing, Madam. In the Air Force we used to use the CO2 fire extinguishers to cool the beer. Just don't let Dr Duncan hear you. Speaking of whom, Madam, the good doctor asked if you could bring your company portfolio to him in the seminar room.

CAROLYN: The seminar room?

MR SARGENT: Oh yes. How would we won the Battle of Britain if we hadn't had portfolios in the seminar room?

CAROLYN: Yees, of course. Arthur, stay here and keep revising.

(CAROLYN exits, closes door)

MR SARGENT: You're having trouble revising, are you?

ARTHUR: Yeah, I'm not at my best with exams and stuff.

MR SARGENT: What are you at your best at?

ARTHUR: Er... Probably crazy golf.

MR SARGENT: All right, well, look, you didn't hear this from me, but should I tell you an interesting thing about the passenger oxygen generators in your aircraft?

ARTHUR: Oh, yeah, please!

MR SARGENT: They produce oxygen for exactly twelve minutes.

ARTHUR: That's not very interesting.

MR SARGENT: Oh yes, it is.

ARTHUR: No, it's not.

MR SARGENT: See, if I was a young lad studying for an exam, I might find it very interesting indeed.

ARTHUR: Oh, right, because it might come up!

MR SARGENT: Oh, I am certainly not telling you that, I'm merely saying it's a possibility.

ARTHUR: Oh. Well, thanks, but no, I don't think so. It sounds like it's mainly gonna be stuff about where stuff is.

MR SARGENT: Right, so you don't reckon that's the sort of thing they'd ask, whereas I, as someone who works in the test centre, reckons it's exactly the sort of thing they'd ask. Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree.

ARTHUR: OK.

MR SARGENT: You're an idiot.

ARTHUR: I know! That's why I'm worried!



DR DUNCAN: All right, so, in this session...

DOUGLAS: Hang on, where's Martin?

DR DUNCAN: Oh, this is a break-out group, just for the first officers.

DOUGLAS: All one of us.

DR DUNCAN: Yes, I see what you mean, but best to stick to the plan, you see, a common problem in flight decks with poor crew resource management is that the first officer is overly in awe of the captain.

DOUGLAS: Is it now...?

DR DUNCAN: Yes, now, the method I want to teach you is the five step statement. So, Douglas, imagine you've noticed a problem, but you're shy of bringing it up with your captain. Step one...

DOUGLAS: Hang on.

DR DUNCAN: Yes?

DOUGLAS: No, it's just this is going to need really quite a lot of imagination. (long pause) OK, got it.

DR DUNCAN: OK. Step one.

DOUGLAS: No, it's gone again.

DR DUNCAN: Step one: first you get his attention. Now depending on how you get on, that might be "Excuse me, sir" or "Er, captain?"

DOUGLAS: Mhm.

DR DUNCAN: Or, in an informal flight deck, it might just be "Hey, chief!"

DOUGLAS: Might it really?

DR DUNCAN: Yes. So, step two: state your concern in a non-confrontational manner. "Hey, chief, I might be wrong."

DOUGLAS: "I might be wrong"?!

DR DUNCAN: Yes. That's a good trick for taking the sting out of it. "I might be wrong, but I think we're low on fuel." Step three: let him know how you feel about this. "This makes me feel uneasy." Step four: propose a solution. "One thing we could do is reduce our speed." Step five: obtain buy into your idea. "How does that sound to you?"

DOUGLAS: Well, frankly, it sounds like the biggest load of-

DR DUNCAN: No, no-no, that's what you might say: "How does that sound to you?"

DOUGLAS: Ah.

DR DUNCAN: So, do you want to roleplay that through now, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: I would love to. "Hey, chief, I might be wrong, but I think we're flying into a mountain. This makes me feel... scared of the mountain. One thing we could do is pull up and fly over the mountain. How does that sound to - pwoooochhh?"

DR DUNCAN: Yes. Of course. In that situation you might need to react a little more instinctively.

DOUGLAS: Oh, do you think so?



(sound of whistle)

MR SARGENT: All right, lady and gentlemen. Welcome to the pool drill! No doubt Dr Duncan's given you some fascinating glimpses into the psychology of the aviational mind, but what we're gonna do now is check you know how to get off your burning aircraft and into your nice safe floaty boat.

ARTHUR: Mr Sargent?

MR SARGENT: Yes, sir.

ARTHUR: This is brilliant!

MR SARGENT: Good. Right then. So, there you are, up in your little plane somewhere above the North Atlantic, when suddenly, oh dearie me, beep-beep-beep, two engine failures. Not the best in use, seeing as you only have two engines, and you have to glide to a false landing. The exercise begins just as you have glid the plane to sea level.

DOUGLAS: Sorry, "glid"?

MR SARGENT: Yes, glid. There's something funny about that?

DOUGLAS: Not in the least, no, I'm very glad we glid.

MR SARGENT: Right. And when I blow my whistle, jump into the pool, inflate the life raft, and conduct standard emergency procedure.

(MR SARGENT blows whistle)

ARTHUR: Hurray!

(ARTHUR jumps in pool with a big splash)

MR SARGENT: Good lad! Well, come on, the rest of you, in, in, in!

CAROLYN: Yes, all right, I'm getting in! Oh-ah-ah-ah-ah, oh God it's cold!

MR SARGENT: Yes, madam, this is what we tend to find in the North bleeding Atlantic Ocean, and what about you two, come on, in!

MARTIN: Yes, um, I'm just putting in my ear plugs.

MR SARGENT: You don't need bleedin' ear plugs, sir!

MARTIN: I do, actually, I have a slight abnormality of the inner ear, I-I can't go swimming without-

MR SARGENT: Get yourself in the bleedin' pool, sir! Now!

MARTIN: Aah!

(MARTIN splashes in the pool)

(sound of water sploshing)

DOUGLAS: Arthur, here's the dinghy. Catch!

(dinghy sploshes in pool)

ARTHUR: Thanks, Douglas! So now, what do I, just pull this... (dinghy inflates with huge whoosh) Whoaaa, look at that!

MR SARGENT: 'ey, sir, why are you not in the pool?

DOUGLAS: First officer retrieves dinghy, conveys it to cabin crew.

MR SARGENT: Yes, well, first officer has done that, now first officer gets in the bleedin' pool himself!

DOUGLAS: I think not.

MR SARGENT: I don't care whether or not you bleedin' well think so, get in the pool!

DOUGLAS: No. You see, the problem is I was never in the RAF, so rather sadly I've never managed to cultivate a fear of shouty red-faced little men with bristly heads. I was, however, in command of an aircraft for 13 years.

MARTIN: (from the pool) Though not now!

DOUGLAS: Though not now. And I picked up a few little things along the way, such as: if the engines are stopped, there's no risk of fire, and so it would be a poor decision to waterlog my clothing and risk hypothermia when I can remain on the wing of the aircraft and wait for the gallant steward to steer the dinghy close enough to it that I can step in... (shuffling sounds) like so. Hello there, Arthur!

MR SARGENT: I suppose you think you're very clever, don't you?

DOUGLAS: I'll let you in to a little secret: I sometimes do.



(sound of cutlery on plate)

ARTHUR: Right, another quiche, I think. Anyone else? Skip?

MARTIN: No.

ARTHUR: But you've only had one!

MARTIN: Yes, I've had one. One is the correct dosage of quiche for the adult human male! How many have you had now?

ARTHUR: Seven. And we have got a hundred each to get through.

DOUGLAS: It was a mistake, Arthur, not a challenge.

CAROLYN: Wait a minute, Arthur, listen, all of you. We've only got the exam and the fuselage drill to go. The exam's in the lap of the gods, but in the fuselage, we are going to concentrate. We are going to be disciplined, we are going to listen to one clear voice of command, got that?

MARTIN: Yes, thank you, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Not you, idiot, me!

MARTIN: But I'm the captain!

CAROLYN: Yes, Martin, everyone who's ever met you knows you're the captain! But I am the alpha dog.

DOUGLAS: You say that, Carolyn, but...

CAROLYN: I do say that, Douglas, yes, because if you'd seen the documentary, you'd know that what makes an alpha dog is not languid put-downs, it's providing the pack with their food, their shelter, their pay, their hotel rooms, and most of all their aeroplane!

DOUGLAS: Goodness. I wish I had seen it now...

CAROLYN: So, in the fuselage, everyone listen to me and follow me, especially you, Arthur. And Arthur, in the exam...

ARTHUR: I know, nineteen.

MARTIN: No, Arthur, that's only the answer to one question!

ARTHUR: Oh right. Which one?

(MARTIN sighs)



DR DUNCAN: All right, individual questions now. Martin, how are the passenger oxygen masks activated?

MARTIN: Automatically, by a barometric pressure switch when the cabin altitude is fourteen thousand feet, or when the pass oxygen switch on the overhead panel is positioned to On.

DR DUNCAN: Yes, perfect answer! O-kay. Carolyn, how many smoke hoods are there in the rear stowage compartment?

CAROLYN: Two.

DR DUNCAN: Yes. O-kay. Do you want to elaborate on that?

CAROLYN: There's one. And there's another one. Totalling two.

DR DUNCAN: Yes, OK, fine, yes. Douglas, a slightly obscure one for you, I'm afraid: at what number of passengers does it become compulsory to carry at least one flight attendant?

DOUGLAS: Hmm, that is tricky.

MARTIN: You would get that one.

DOUGLAS: Still, I'll have a stab at it. Could it be... nineteen?

DR DUNCAN: Quite right! Finally, Arthur, for how long does a passenger oxygen generator produce oxygen once activated?

ARTHUR: Oh, that's a coincidence! Someone was just talking to me about that. Was it you, Douglas? Or Mum. Someone, anyway.

DR DUNCAN: So what's the answer?

ARTHUR: I don't know, I didn't listen.



(sound of whistle)

MR SARGENT: All right, lady and gentlemen. Ignore the pool this time, concentrate your attentions on the mock-up fuselage. Inside it has been laid out in exactly the same way as your aircraft, with the tiny improvement that we've filled it with smoke. Also, somewhere inside is Adrian, a life-sized life-weight dummy representing an unlucky passenger. Obviously, any passenger of MJN Air is by definition unlucky passenger, but this one is unlucky even by your own 'igh standards, because he is relying on you to save him! When I blow my whistle, you will don your smoke hoods, enter the fuselage in a random order, locate Adrian and retrieve him in under five minutes. The random order is as follows: Arthur, Douglas, Carolyn, Martin.

ARTHUR: Oh. I mean, hurray, but also - eeargh. I don't think I should go first.

MR SARGENT: Nor do I, that's why you're going first. On me marks, get set... (blows whistle) (sounds of rustling from the crew) Come on, come on, hoods on, quickly! In you go! In, in, in! Not all separately, like sheep that have got into a bleedin' garden! Hold the back of the belt of the crew member in fronts!

MR SARGENT: One minute left! Come on!

CAROLYN: (muffled through hood) Did you see four minutes gone, Arthur? Are you sure you haven't found anything?

ARTHUR: No!

CAROLYN: Hasn't anyone?

DOUGLAS: No!

MARTIN: No! But I am... I am... I-I'm a bit...

MR SARGENT: Forty-five seconds!

CAROLYN: We'll have to abandon it!

(MARTIN drops to the floor)

DOUGLAS: What was that?

ARTHUR: It was Skipper! He's fallen down!

CAROLYN: Martin! Are you all right?

DOUGLAS: Arthur, how do you know it was Martin?

ARTHUR: I was holding on to his belt!

CAROLYN: But you were in the lead!

ARTHUR: But Mr Sargent said everyone holds someone's belt!

CAROLYN: Not you!

DOUGLAS: Never mind that now, is Martin all right?

ARTHUR: I think so, my screen's a bit misted up, (ARTHUR's voice becomes less muffled) I'll just eh- (ARTHUR coughs abundantly)

(ARTHUR drops to the floor)



DR DUNCAN: So what exactly happened?

MR SARGENT: Yes, what exactly happened? Let's see if we can piece it together for the good doctor. For starters, how many bodies did you rescue from the fuselage?

CAROLYN: Two!

MR SARGENT: Two. Which is pretty good going, given that I only put one in there. Carolyn, whose body did you rescue?

CAROLYN: Arthur's.

MR SARGENT: Arthur's. And why was Arthur's body lying in the fuselage?

ARTHUR: I got a bit smoke-filled.

MR SARGENT: Yes, you did. Because in the smoke-filled cabin, in order to see more clearly, you took off your smoke hood. And what was you trying to see more clearly?

ARTHUR: The body I found.

MR SARGENT: The body you found. The body Douglas, in the end, brought out of the fuselage, the body of...

DOUGLAS: Martin.

MR SARGENT: The body of Martin. And why was the body of Martin lying on the floor?

MARTIN: As I believe I've mentioned before, I have a slight abnormality of the inner ear, it's- it's perfectly air-worthy, but it means I, uh, I-I-I black out if I get dizzy.

MR SARGENT: If you get dizzy. And why was you dizzy?

MARTIN: Because we were going round in circles.

MR SARGENT: And that was because...?

MARTIN: Because Arthur was holding on to my belt.

MR SARGENT: Ex-bleeing'-zactly. Because you was all holding on to each other's belts, going round and round the smoke-filled cabin, playing ring a ring o' roses! While Adrian the dummy looked on, burning merrily to a crisp. In which circumstances I hope it will come as no surprise that you have well and truly failed the SEP.

CAROLYN: No, you can't fail us!

MR SARGENT: I not only can, I have to. And I not only have to, I want to.

DR DUNCAN: Quite right, Mr Sargent, absolutely, though of course you could maybe let them retake it.

MR SARGENT: I could at my discretion allow a retake if I had any reason to think they were under an unfair disadvantage, which I don't.

DOUGLAS: Oh, but we were.

MR SARGENT: Oh yes, and what was that?

DOUGLAS: Arthur was in the lead.

MR SARGENT: A crew is only as strong as its weakest link, and your weakest link is very weak indeed. If you want me, I won't be in the seminar room.

(exits)

CAROLYN: Peter, can I have a word with you?

DR DUNCAN: I'm sorry, Carolyn, but Mr Sargent's quite right, and Arthur did fail his exam as well...

CAROLYN: Look, this is a very safe aircraft. I have a good pilot and a safe pilot, and the safe pilot's in charge of the good pilot. Martin won't let them get into trouble, and if they do, Douglas will get them out of it.

DR DUNCAN: But it does have Arthur on it.

CAROLYN: Yes, but Arthur doesn't do anything. He just serves the meals. If anything went wrong, I'd handle it, and if I wasn't on board, the pilots will handle it. Arthur is basically just a passenger in a hat. That's only because he made himself a hat.

(DOUGLAS coughs loudly, ostentatiously)

DOUGLAS: Hey, chief.

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: I might be wrong... Ha, ha, ha, ha! Heh, sorry, I really must learn to say that with a straight face. (coughs again) Er, I might be wrong, but I think Arthur's about to lose us all our jobs.

CAROLYN: This is not-

DOUGLAS: Hang on, I'm only on step two. This makes me feel... unemployed. And also a little surprised, given that I'm sure I've heard quite a lot recently that the number of passengers at which it becomes compulsory to carry a flight attendant is nineteen, and I just wonder how often that situation's going to occur in our aircraft, with its sixteen seats.

CAROLYN: Aaaah.

DOUGLAS: And how does that sound to you?

CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: You're welcome. Enjoy the hartebeest.

CAROLYN: Dr Duncan, we've had a slight company reorganisation in the last few... seconds. From now on, Arthur will no longer fly on the crew roster, henceforth any flights he happens to be on, he'll be on the passenger roster.

DR DUNCAN: As a passenger.

CAROLYN: Precisely.

DOUGLAS: But... still acting as a steward.

CAROLYN: Certainly not. Of course, as a frequent flier, he may choose to... help the other passengers - you know, always be first to offer to get the coffee and serve dinner and... stay behind after to hoover the aircraft - but in the eyes of God and the CAA, he will simply be an unusually helpful passenger. Who wears a hat.

DR DUNCAN: Well, that- that would make things a lot easier...

CAROLYN: Yes, it would.

DR DUNCAN: ...so long as the rest of you pass the fuselage drill.

CAROLYN: Peter, it has long been a maxim of MJN Air that when Arthur stops helping, we can do anything.



(MARTIN and DOUGLAS pant heavily)

(MR SARGENT blows whistle)

MR SARGENT: All right. Four minutes and... fifty-two seconds. The very definition of barely adequate. But, you rescued Adrian, you're in time, therefore, on the strict understanding that Arthur has no official role on the aircraft whatsoever, except possibly chalk, you all pass.

(CREW cheers)

MR SARGENT: Except you.

MARTIN: Why? What did I do? Please give me another chance!

MR SARGENT: Not you!

MARTIN: Oh.

MARTIN: You.

DOUGLAS: Me?

MR SARGENT: Yes, my friend, you, because for all your smooth talking and your smart answers, matey, no one passes my SEP trainin' without demonstratin' to my satisfaction they can swim strongly in uniform and rescue a body from the water.

DOUGLAS: I see. Well, we'll have to see what the CAA adjudicates when I-

CAROLYN: Douglas, shut up. Martin, pass me Adrian.

MARTIN: Here!

(CAROLYN chucks ADRIAN the dummy in the pool)

CAROLYN: Douglas, fetch!

(DOUGLAS sighs deeply, then launches himself in the pool with a grunt)

END CREDITS
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:25 am

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CABIN PRESSURE 2x04 JOHANNESBURG

(ding-dong)
ARTHUR: (on intercomm) Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, our onboard transit process today has now reached its ultimate termination.
CAROLYN: He means we've landed.
ARTHUR: Yes. So as yourselves prepare for disemboarding, if I could kindly ask you to kindly ensure you retain all your personal items about your person throughout the duration of the disembarcation.
CAROLYN: He means take your stuff with you.
ARTHUR: In concluding, it's been a privilege for ourselves to conduct yourselves through the in-flight experience today, and I do hope you'll refavor ourselves with the esteem of your [forth-looking?] custom going forward.
CAROLYN: No idea.

CREDITS - This week: Johannesburg!



DOUGLAS: Okay, Martin, two miles to run. Descend to five hundred feet. Stand by for visual on target.
MARTIN: Douglas, are we certain about this?
DOUGLAS: Quite certain.
MARTIN: Right. It's just . . . (exhales) I'm sure it's going to be fine -
DOUGLAS: Excellent. I'm also sure it's going to be fine.
MARTIN: The thing is, though, I'm not sure it's going to be fine.
DOUGLAS: What an exquisite paradox. Luckily, though, I'm still completely sure it's going to be fine. So as I'm a hundred percent sure, and you're fifty each way, that still gives us a comfortable hundred and fifty percent working majority.
MARTIN: Douglas!
DOUGLAS: Target in sight. Level five hundred feet. Left, left. Waggle wings. And open air brakes . . . now. (pause) Oh.
MARTIN: What? What? What? I can't see! What happened?
DOUGLAS: I may have very slightly overestimated how fine it would be.



CAROLYN: What were you thinking?
MARTIN: All we were trying -
CAROLYN: Shut up, Martin. Douglas, what were you thinking?
DOUGLAS: I just thought, since I had to work on my daughter's birthday, it would be nice to do a little fly past of her party on the way.
CAROLYN: Barrow-in-Furness is not on the way to Paris. So first you stole my aircraft -
DOUGLAS: I wouldn't call it stealing.
CAROLYN: I paid you to fly three hundred miles southwest. You flew it two hundred miles northeast. What is that if not stealing?
DOUGLAS: Hijacking, at most.
MARTIN: Carolyn -
CAROLYN: Shut up, Martin. (to Douglas) But of course, you were just warming up, because not only did you steal my aircraft, you then chose to mark your arrival at the children's birthday party by dropping a bomb on it.
DOUGLAS: The idea was perfectly sound!
CAROLYN: The idea was terminally stupid! (to Martin) Was it your idea, Martin?
MARTIN: No, it wasn't! Oh, and I'm allowed to speak again now, am I?
CAROLYN: No, shut up.
DOUGLAS: It was my idea. It occurred to me that if we filled the air brake cavity with boiled sweets, and then opened it just as we were flying over -
CAROLYN: You could strafe your daughter's birthday party.
DOUGLAS: No, not strafe! We weren't going anything like fast enough! We did check!
MARTIN: I did the calculations.
DOUGLAS: And we were quite sure the sweets would flutter gently down to the excited children beneath, and so they would have done, if it hadn't been rather a hot day, and the sweets in the metal compartment hadn't melted a little. And then, up in the cold air, solidified again, into a . . .
CAROLYN: A sugar brick.
DOUGLAS: (pause) Yes.
CAROLYN: Which you dropped on your ex-wife's house.
DOUGLAS: Yes, but we were very lucky, really. We could have hit her conservatory. Or her BMW.
CAROLYN: Or a child!
DOUGLAS: Now don't exaggerate. All the children had run for safety long before it landed!
CAROLYN: That is not as reassuring a sentence as you seem to think.
DOUGLAS: I'm just saying, we couldn't have hit a child! But I admit, we could have hit a car.
CAROLYN: But you didn't hit a car, did you? You hit a carp.
DOUGLAS: Yes.
CAROLYN: Do you have any idea how much a koi carp costs?
DOUGLAS: I do now, yes. But don't worry, I don't expect you to pay for it.
CAROLYN: You d - Of course you don't expect me to pay for it! Why in heaven would I pay for it?
DOUGLAS: Well, as you pointed out, it is your plane.
CAROLYN: Yes, and I paid you to use it to fly a franking machine to Paris, not to fly a multi-colored confectionary brick to Cumbria and drop it on a fish!
MARTIN: Well, to be fair, we did go to Paris afterwards.
CAROLYN: Martin, really, shut absolutely up.
MARTIN: Right.
CAROLYN: Look. Both of you. I'm being serious. With my serious face. You cannot keep doing things like this. I will spell it out in words of one syllable. If - you - waste - my - money - we - will - go - bust - you - will - have - no - job.
DOUGLAS: (pause) Cash. Not mon-ey.
CAROLYN: Please! Will you take this seriously! We can't go on like this! Look at the trip budget you've submitted for Johannesburg next week - fourteen thousand pounds! Are we flying there on the backs of unicorns?
MARTIN: It's pared to the bone, I promise you - I can't compromise safety for economy!
CAROLYN: That's rich, coming from the Bomber of Barrow.
DOUGLAS: I'm sorry, Carolyn, it's just that the Captain and myself are deeply unmaterialistic. Our souls are rather beautiful that way, actually.
CAROLYN: Is that so? Alright then, First Officer Gandhi, I'll tell you what I'll do. On a one-trip trial basis, if you can magically shave, say, two thousand pounds off that pared-to-the-bone budget, you can split it between you, which should just about pay for the carp. But if it comes in so much as a penny over twelve thousand pounds, you pay me a grand each. Deal?
DOUGLAS: Absolutely, deal.
MARTIN: No, wait, Douglas! The budget really is pretty tight! How on earth -
DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin! Trust me! (to Carolyn) Deal.



ARTHUR: Chaps, my galley's been burgled. They've taken the trolley, the duty-free, the microwave, even the hot-water boiler.
DOUGLAS: Sorry, Arthur, that was me. The lighter we keep the plane, the less fuel we need, so I've offloaded all unnecessary dead weight. Speaking of which, how much do you weigh?
ARTHUR: But how'm I supposed to heat up the catering?
DOUGLAS: Oh, I've canceled the catering.
MARTIN: You canceled our food? For a twelve-hour flight?
DOUGLAS: Needless expense. Don't worry, I rustled us up a little something myself.
ARTHUR: Oh, Douglas, you should have asked me!
DOUGLAS: Should I, though, Arthur? Really? The inventor of fizzy yogurt?
ARTHUR: To be fair, I didn't invent that so much as discover the process that makes it.
DOUGLAS: Yes. Yogurt plus time. Here, take these.
ARTHUR: Righto. Uh, how do I prepare them?
DOUGLAS: Take lids off boxes. Empty onto plates. Give to pilots. And - and I can't stress this strongly enough - do nothing else to it whatsoever.
MARTIN: Is that really going to save us much money, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Every little helps. Why? What have you come up with?
MARTIN: Well, uh, had a good think last night, and I think so long as we get the long runway at Joburg, we may be able to land without using the wheel-brakes.
DOUGLAS: I see. And that'll save us what?
MARTIN: Well, it'll prolong the life of the brakes.
DOUGLAS: To the tune of . . .?
MARTIN: Obviously not in a calculable way.
DOUGLAS: Terrific. Well done.
MARTIN: Well, alright, what else have you come up with?
DOUGLAS: Turn off air conditioning, only take half the liquid oxygen, keep air recirculation fans on, and only use one engine to taxi, and I'm just getting warmed up.
ARTHUR: So, if doing those things saves money, why don't we do it all the time?
DOUGLAS: Well, the most tiresome of pettifoggers might question whether it constituted absolute best practice.
MARTIN: You mean it's horrendously illegal?
DOUGLAS: "Horrendously" is a strong word.
MARTIN: I notice you're not quibbling "illegal."
DOUGLAS: Not dangerously illegal. It's not like I'm suggesting we only fly on one engine, although . . .
MARTIN: NO!



MARTIN: (eating) This is excellent, Douglas! Did you really cook it yourself?
DOUGLAS: I did indeed.
MARTIN: Mm, it's lovely.
DOUGLAS: I'm very good at cooking.
MARTIN: Is there anything you're not very good at? (long pause) Douglas?
DOUGLAS: I'm thinking. There are things I haven't tried yet; I suppose it's possible I'm not very good at some of those. Theoretically.
MARTIN: Well, (eating) this is great. Unusual flavor - what is it?
DOUGLAS: Carp.
MARTIN: But . . . not . . .
DOUGLAS: When I pay a thousand pounds for a fish, I don't just throw it in the bin. Now, then, when we get to Joburg, obviously we can save a lot on hotels.
MARTIN: How?
DOUGLAS: By not staying in one.
MARTIN: So where will we sleep?
DOUGLAS: Well, I'm a happily married man, so I shall sleep in the plane. But you, m'lad, have four hours in hand to get yourself invited to the Johannesburgian bedroom of your choice.
MARTIN: Ha ha ha! Yes, I'll sleep in the plane too.
DOUGLAS: That uniform's wasted on you, it really is.
ding-ding-ding
DOUGLAS: Ah, fancy that!
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Little flashing warning light, Captain. Anti-icing the starboard wing. Declaring itself rabbit of negative euphoria.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Not a happy bunny.
MARTIN: Right, okay, okay, okay! Isolate the anti-icing valves, port and starboard, prepare for landing, and -
DOUGLAS: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! We don't need to divert, we can do without anti-icing!
MARTIN: No, we can't!
DOUGLAS: Martin. We're currently flying over southern Spain. We're about to fly the length of continental Africa. May I suggest that ice may not be our most formidable foe?
MARTIN: You know perfectly well the hotter it is, the quicker ice will form if we fly through clouds.
DOUGLAS: But I have a strategic master-stroke to counter that. Let's not fly through any clouds.
MARTIN: But there are clouds - look!
DOUGLAS: What? Those little fluffies? We can just weave in and out of those! And we only have to keep the starboard wing out of them, anyway. It'll be fun!
MARTIN: No, Douglas, we're landing and getting it fixed.
DOUGLAS: You know what? I was wrong about the warning light. It's not on; I made a mistake.
MARTIN: I can see it!
DOUGLAS: No, Martin. That's an optical illusion, caused by the fierce glare of the sun. The hot, Mediterranean, ice-melting sun. Which will beat down on us as we pay landing fees and engineer's fees and hope they'll fix us in time to get to Joburg tonight. In Spain. Lovely people, magnificent culture, not famed for their snap-to-it efficiency.
MARTIN: Yeah, I know, I - I'm sorry, but I have to.
DOUGLAS: (groans)
MARTIN: (on radio) Madrid. Golf-Tango-India. We have a system malfunction. Require radar vectors to nearest suitable airfield.



MARTIN: And, post-landing checks complete.
CAROLYN: Gentlemen! I can't help but notice we've landed three hours after takeoff. Which means either you have discovered a hitherto unsuspected warp-drive button, or this isn't Johannesburg.
MARTIN: Carolyn, I'm sorry, you can rant and rave all you like, but we had to divert. The anti-icing system was -
CAROLYN: Yes, fine, whatever you think.
MARTIN: Really?
CAROLYN: Yes, of course. I'm sure you had your reasons.
MARTIN: Well, yes, but don't you want to hear them and then disagree with them? I thought you'd be more . . . furious.
CAROLYN: Yes, it's curious, isn't it? Curious I'm not furious. It turns out I mind losing money a lot less just so long as Douglas is losing it too.
MARTIN: And me.
CAROLYN: Yes, but for some reason, you losing money doesn't make me happy the way Douglas losing money does.
MARTIN: Oh, well . . . thank you, I suppose.
CAROLYN: You're very welcome.
DOUGLAS: Well, sorry to disappoint you, Carolyn, but I have no intention of losing any money. The landing fee should be pretty light in a tiny airfield like this, and it doesn't shut till five - plenty of time for them to fix Gertie.
ARTHUR: Chaps? Have we landed?
DOUGLAS: Yes, Arthur, well spotted.
ARTHUR: Well, uh, since you've taken away my water boiler, can I order some hot water here?
MARTIN: Yes, of course.
DOUGLAS: No, no, no!
MARTIN: Oh, come on, I'm not flying the length of Africa without coffee - we need hot water!
DOUGLAS: Certainly, but we don't need to pay thirty Euros for it. There's an old flying-school trick I know.
MARTIN: Of course there is.
DOUGLAS: Arthur. Get a wine bottle, fill it with water, and using the asbestos gloves, place it very carefully on the lip of one of the engine exhausts. Hey presto - boiling water.
CAROLYN: Good heavens, Douglas has discovered his inner Womble.
ARTHUR: But . . . doesn't the air come out of the back of those engines pretty fast?
DOUGLAS: Arthur. The engines aren't on. Clues to this include the aircraft being stationary, on the ground, and eerily quiet. But they'll still be hot from the flight.
ARTHUR: Ahhh. Right, yes. Because I was thinking, otherwise, I might have had a bit of a job -
DOUGLAS: Balancing a wine bottle in a fourteen-hundred-mile-an-hour jet blast? Yes, I imagine you would.



SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: I'm sorry, we have no engineer at this airfield.
DOUGLAS: Right. So what do you do when you need an engineer?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: We call Diego out from the big airport at Albacete.
DOUGLAS: Well, can you do that now, please?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: I can.
DOUGLAS: Then do.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: But he won't come.
CAROLYN: Do you know, I think what I like about this conversation most, Douglas, is that you're the one having to have it.
DOUGLAS: Why won't he come?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: He cannot. His car is broke down.
DOUGLAS: The engineer's car is broken down?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Yes.
CAROLYN: That's not a terribly good sign, is it?
DOUGLAS: Well, can we go and get him?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: I suppose, but how? You have no car.
CAROLYN: Ah, he's got you there.
DOUGLAS: Can we hire a car?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Not here, maybe from the airport at Albacete?
DOUGLAS: The place we want the car to get to.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Is the nearest place.
DOUGLAS: Well, can we borrow a car?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Whose car?
DOUGLAS: Well, I don't know - your car!
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: No.
DOUGLAS: Why not?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: It's a nice car. A BMW.
CAROLYN: Well, Douglas here has an excellent safety record with BMWs. Only last week he didn't drop a brick on one.
DOUGLAS: Carolyn, you're really not helping!
CAROLYN: I know, I'm not trying to. It's fun, this, isn't it, chipping in from the sidelines; I can see why you're so fond of it.
DOUGLAS: Señor Quintanilla.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Sí.
DOUGLAS: Surely there is a vehicle somewhere on this airfield we can pay you a hundred Euros to let us drive to Albacete and back?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Ehh. Maybe there is something.



ARTHUR: ♪ Three men went to mow, went to mow a meadow! Three men, two men, one man, and his dog! ♪ (speaking) That's where you say "woof, woof," Skip.
MARTIN: No, it isn't.
ARTHUR: I think it is. Because it's just after the word "dog," and dogs go -
MARTIN: I mean I'm not saying "woof, woof."
ARTHUR: It would cheer you up.
MARTIN: We are driving across the Spanish plains in the heat of the day on a sixty-mile round trip on unmade roads in a baggage truck! It's going to take more to cheer me up than saying "woof, woof."
ARTHUR: Well, if you're sure. It always cheers me up. Can we have the air conditioning on, please?
MARTIN: The air - there is no air conditioning! Why would you have air conditioning on a vehicle with no doors?
ARTHUR: To keep it cool.
MARTIN: Arthur. I'm - I really am at the end of my tether here. Could you please just try your hardest not to say anything?
ARTHUR: Really stupid?
MARTIN: No! Just . . . anything.
ARTHUR: Oh, right! Will do, Skip! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!
MARTIN: Stop it!
ARTHUR: Sorry! Daah!
MARTIN: Thank you. Now, let's just try and get through this with the minimum of fuss . . . (sound of vehicle grinding to a halt) Arthur, put your hand down. I know. Low. Bridge.



DOUGLAS: And eighty is ten thousand four hundred . . .
CAROLYN: Hello, Douglas! Doing your sums?
DOUGLAS: Yes.
CAROLYN: Well, I won't disturb you. Just wondered if you'd heard from Martin yet.
DOUGLAS: No, he's not answering his phone. Why isn't he answering? There's no point even doing this if he's not going to be back in time.
CAROLYN: Oh, don't you worry. I'm quite sure he'll successfully drive his baggage truck to Albacete, find and pick up the engineer, bring him back in plenty of time to fix the plane by five.
DOUGLAS: Do you think so?
CAROLYN: Not even for a moment. There's about six hundred ways that plan could go wrong, even if it wasn't Martin doing it, and it is Martin doing it, with help . . . from Arthur.
DOUGLAS: You're enjoying this, aren't you?
CAROLYN: I honestly don't know when I've enjoyed a trip more. I only wish I'd thought of this years ago. This way, if I lose, you lose, which takes the sting out of it enormously, and if I win, I win, and thus, I win.
DOUGLAS: How nice for you. Oh, blast.
CAROLYN: What?
DOUGLAS: The running total of this trip. Twelve thousand and fourteen pounds.
CAROLYN: Oh, dear
DOUGLAS: Of course, when you said "under twelve thousand," you didn't mean literally to the penny, that would be ridiculous. You meant to the nearest hundred or so.
CAROLYN: Ah, your little face as you tried to look as if you remotely thought you might get away with that! A miss is as good as a mile, I'm afraid.
DOUGLAS: Right.



(sounds of vehicle being tested and not well repaired)
ARTHUR: No, it's not budging, Skip. It's really firmly wedged under. I think we must have hit the bridge quite hard -
MARTIN: Yes.
ARTHUR: So. What now, Skip?
MARTIN: I don't know!
ARTHUR: Okay. (sound of other cars honking their horns) Uh, Skip, chap behind us wants to come through.
MARTIN: Yeah, I can see that!
ARTHUR: Oh, okay. It's just, because you weren't doing anything, I thought you hadn't seen him. Um. Still don't really know what we're waiting for.
MARTIN: I'm waiting for . . . I'm waiting for Douglas to say something sarcastic and then sort it out.
ARTHUR: Ohh, right. Of course, Douglas isn't here, Skip.
MARTIN: I know that!
ARTHUR: I mean, I can try and fill in, but I - I don't know how good I'll be. (as Douglas) Uh, I'm glad we're stuck under this bridge -
MARTIN: Shush. Please, just -
ARTHUR: (still as Douglas) That's a good thing -
MARTIN: Stop it, you're not helping! If it comes to that, what are you waiting for?
ARTHUR: You to tell me what to do, Skip.
MARTIN: I don't know! (more horns honking, voices of angry drivers) I mean . . . all I can think of is, um . . . i - i - is I suppose we could, we could let the tires down.
ARTHUR: Oh, right? And pretend we've got a puncture?
MARTIN: No. To lower our height a couple of inches.
ARTHUR: Yes, brilliant! Well, let's do that!
MARTIN: Yes, but what have I got wrong?
ARTHUR: Oh, have you got something wrong?
MARTIN: I always get something wrong! And if Douglas were here, he'd point out what!
ARTHUR: Well, he's not, so shall we just try it and see?



DOUGLAS: (knocking on a door) Señor Quintanilla.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Hello, yes? Ah, is you again!
DOUGLAS: Yes.
CAROLYN: Hello, Señor.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: And your merry woman.
DOUGLAS: Isn't she just? Ah, now, Señor, I've just been looking through your airfield bill -
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Yes?
DOUGLAS: And I was just wondering, if there was any possibility at all of reducing it by, say, twenty Euros?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Was something not good? Are you not happy?
DOUGLAS: No, no, everything was good; we're very happy.
CAROLYN: Me especially.
DOUGLAS: But I would appreciate it, as a favor, if you felt you could knock off a measly twenty Euros.
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: This is not a market! I am not used to haggle. This is fair price, yes? You do not think I try to cheat you?
DOUGLAS: No, no, absolutely not! Well, look, how about this, then? Is there anything we could do around the airfield, while we're waiting, that would be worth twenty Euros to you?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: I suppose . . . you could wash my car?
DOUGLAS: I'm not going to wash your car!
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: I don't want you to wash my car - I'm trying to help you!
DOUGLAS: Of course. Yes. I - I apologize. Which is your car?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: The BMW.
DOUGLAS: How could I forget?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: Catch! (throws car keys)
CAROLYN: Douglas. Are you going to wash his car - are you really going to wash his car? (laughs) This day just gets better and better!



MARTIN & ARTHUR: ♪ . . . went to mow a meadow! Six men, five men, four men, three men, two men, one man and his dog ♪ -
ARTHUR: Wah, wah!
MARTIN & ARTHUR: ♪ - went to mow a meadow! ♪
MARTIN: "Wah, wah," Arthur?
ARTHUR: That's what French dogs say, Skip! I thought I'd do one in French, 'cause we're abroad.
MARTIN: But we're in Spain.
ARTHUR: I know, but I don't know what Spanish dogs say. Do you?
MARTIN: No, no, I don't know what . . . Spanish . . . dogs . . . say.
ARTHUR: What's the matter?
MARTIN: Sorry, same thing again. I just automatically waited for Douglas to say something sarcastic.
ARTHUR: Yes, he'd've had one in there, wouldn't he? What do you think it would have been?
MARTIN: I don't know. However, my young professor of canine linguistics, welcome to Albacete Airport! Twenty minutes ahead of schedule, even with stopping to pump the tires back up!
ARTHUR: Nice work, Skip! It was a brilliant plan!
MARTIN: Ah, it did go rather well, didn't it? Now, apparently, the engineer's office is in the green hangar, it must be . . . that one there! Follow me!
ARTHUR: Right!
MARTIN: Gosh. Sunny, isn't it?
ARTHUR: Woooow! Skip! Are those new? They're brilliant!
MARTIN: Oh, do you like them? Picked them up at the garage. They're called "aviator shades."
ARTHUR: They're amazing! You look like one of those guys in Top Gear!
MARTIN: God, do I? Which one? Not Clarkson?
ARTHUR: No, Tom Cruise!
MARTIN: Top Gun, Arthur.
ARTHUR: Oh, yeah!
MARTIN: (sighs) I've always wanted a pair of these.
ARTHUR: Well, why didn't you get them?
MARTIN: I suppose I thought Douglas would probably be a . . . well. Pretty funny about them.
ARTHUR: Oh, yeah. Yes, he will be, won't he?
MARTIN: I'll take them off quickly before we get back.
ARTHUR: Yeah, probably best. . . . You know, Douglas is great, obviously, I mean, he's brilliant, but . . . this is quite nice, isn't it? Like a little holiday.
MARTIN: Yes. Yes, it is.
ARTHUR: Right. Is this it?
MARTIN: Yes.
ARTHUR: Oh. Uh, Skip? It looks a bit -
MARTIN: Closed.
ARTHUR: Yeah.
MARTIN: Why would it be closed on a Tuesday?
ARTHUR: I - I don't know.
MARTIN: Oh, well, that's it then! We're done for! I should have known the thing with the bridge was just to make it all the worse when we inevitably -
ARTHUR: Yes, but you can think of something, Skip! You were brilliant last time!
MARTIN: Oh! Well. Well we could, um, try and find the manager here, and see if we can get the engineer's home address, drive into town - ah, but it'll be too late, we have to get in the air before five, and it's, what, two-fifteen now - OH!
ARTHUR: What?
MARTIN: Two-fifteen in Spain! Siesta!
ARTHUR: What's that?
MARTIN: It's when they stop work for a couple of hours after lunch to have a sleep.
ARTHUR: Wow! Can we start doing that?
MARTIN: And since the airport's so far from the town, I wouldn't be surprised if the - Let's just try. (knocking) Hello! Hello! El . . . engineer-o! Wake up! Please! Please answer - por favor, it's important! Tre importante! We'll pay extra - bonus lucre! Gracias! (waits) No, of course not. Well, that would just be too -
DIEGO: Yes? ¿Qué quieren?
MARTIN & ARTHUR: YES!
ARTHUR: That's brilliant, Skip!
MARTIN: Oh. Do you think so?



(sounds of water sloshing around)
CAROLYN: Ah, there you are, Douglas. I couldn't find you.
DOUGLAS: But then you did.
CAROLYN: But then I did. Why are you hiding behind the aircraft?
DOUGLAS: I'm not hiding.
CAROLYN: Not anymore, certainly. And my, what an excellent job you're doing! You're a demon with that chamois leather!
DOUGLAS: Have you come to help?
CAROLYN: Even better than that. I've come to watch.
DOUGLAS: That's not better.
CAROLYN: Oh, I'm sorry, I meant better for me. It's a lot better for me. (sound of metal squeaking)
DOUGLAS: You've . . . brought . . . a deck chair?
CAROLYN: I always keep one in the hold for just such an occasion. Ahhh, this is the life. You know, I think this would be my luxury if I was on Desert Island Disks.
DOUGLAS: A deck chair?
CAROLYN: No, you washing a car. I think I could endure almost any hardship as long as I had the bible and Shakespeare, Palgrave's Golden Treasury, and the sight of First Officer Douglas Richardson grumpily soaping a wheel arch.
DOUGLAS: Two thousand pounds, Carolyn. Remember that - that's what it's going to cost you.
CAROLYN: Cheap at twice the price. And that's only if Martin gets back in time, which, really, what are the chances of that?



MARTIN & ARTHUR: ♪ Six men, five men, four men, three men, two men, one man and his dog ♪ -
MARTIN: Diego?
DIEGO: Wow, wow!
MARTIN & ARTHUR: ♪ Went to mow a meadow! ♪
MARTIN: "Wow, wow"? When have you ever heard a dog say "wow, wow"?
DIEGO: Every time I have heard a dog, he have said to me, "wow, wow."
MARTIN: Then you, Señor, have been speaking to some very peculiar dogs. Arthur, where are we up to?
ARTHUR: Thirty-two.
MARTIN: Very well, on my count, gentlemen! One, two, three! ♪ Thirty-two men went to mow, went to mow a meadow . . . ♪



DOUGLAS: (huffs) Twenty to five! That's definitely it, then!
CAROLYN: You've said that every five minutes since four o'clock.
DOUGLAS: YES! But there's no way we can do it now, even if he -
MARTIN & ARTHUR & DIEGO: ♪ - one man and his ♪ -
DOUGLAS: Oh, look!
MARTIN: Elephant!
DIEGO: Praa, praa!
MARTIN & ARTHUR & DIEGO: ♪ WENT TO MOW A MEADOW! ♪
MARTIN: "Praa, praa," Diego, really?
DIEGO: Of course.
DOUGLAS: Martin! Good Lord! Maverick flies again!
MARTIN: Hello, Douglas! Can I suggest you save all the jokes about my shades for now, and we'll have them in a nice long stream once we get airborne? In the meantime, Carolyn, Douglas, this is Diego, a fine engineer, a useful light baritone, and a man with an inexhaustible knowledge of how Spanish animals go. Diego, do your Spanish cockerel?
DIEGO: Ki-kirri-kee!
MARTIN: Yup, that's my favorite one. Now then, Diego, here's the wing, get to work. Arthur, park the truck.
ARTHUR: Where?
MARTIN: Uh, well behind the plane, by that . . . wet . . . car. You two, get on board, and prepare to leave immediately!
DOUGLAS: But Martin, we've only got twenty minutes before they shut the tower. He can't possibly fix it -
MARTIN: Certainly he can! A man who can imitate a Spanish squirrel helping forty-eight men mow a meadow is capable of anything. Now, come on, we have to get a move on!
DOUGLAS: In other words, you feel the need. The need for speed.
MARTIN: Seriously, Douglas, save them for later.



MARTIN: (panting) Done!
DOUGLAS: You did the walk-round?
MARTIN: (panting) Yes.
DOUGLAS: In forty-five seconds?
MARTIN: More of a jog-round, but I saw everything I needed to see. (panting)
DOUGLAS: But your walk-arounds take days!
MARTIN: Well, maybe I've gained a little faith in my instincts as a pilot! Now, how are we doing?
DOUGLAS: Seven minutes to five. Cabin ready. Pre-takeoff checks done. How about the anti-icing?
MARTIN: Diego's still looking at it. (panting)
DOUGLAS: Well, then. Why are we bothering? There's no way -
(knocking)
MARTIN: A-ha! Come in! Diego, anti-icing all fixed?
DIEGO: No.
DOUGLAS: Ah.
MARTIN: Then what were you doing up there? Go and fix it!
DIEGO: Not fixed, because not broken.
MARTIN: Not broken?
DIEGO: No, he is very well.
MARTIN: But it was. It - it was definitely broken. Look, the little orange warning light's on!
DIEGO: Oh. Let me see? Yes. Little orange warning light - he is broken. (thump) There! All better!
MARTIN: Right. Thank you, Diego. Now, quick, get off the plane.
DOUGLAS: Right. So all of this was in aid of a dodgy warning light.
MARTIN: Yes, well. Just one of those things. Could have happened to anyone.
DOUGLAS: Could have done, but actually happened to -
MARTIN: - to both of us. You didn't give the light a thump any more than I did. Anyway, it's a good thing! It means it's fixed now, we can still get away in time, we can still get in under budget.
DOUGLAS: But?
MARTIN: Douglas, be quiet. (flips on intercomm) All ready in the back?
CAROLYN: All ready.
MARTIN: (flipping switches and controls) Right. Air con?
DOUGLAS: Off.
MARTIN: Anti-collision light?
DOUGLAS: On.
MARTIN: Fuel pump switches?
DOUGLAS: On.
MARTIN: Hello, Ground, are we clear to start number one?
GROUND CONTROL: Clear to start number one.
MARTIN: Starting one.
DOUGLAS: So. Do I take it you had some sort of mystical awakening on your road trip?
MARTIN: No, nothing like that. I just had cause to remember that I'm not, in fact, quite as incapable as it suits certain people to make out.
DOUGLAS: Well, if it earns us a grand each, I'm all in favor of it. Engine stable.
MARTIN: Thank you. Fuel flow?
(sound of glass breaking, then a car alarm starts up)
DOUGLAS: Engine malfunction [?]
MARTIN: Shutting down number one!
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!
MARTIN: We don't know! What's happened - what did you see?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: You have fired . . . a missile . . . from your plane!
MARTIN: Is anyone hurt?
SEÑOR QUINTANILLA: My BMW! My BMW is hurt! You fire your missile straight into my car!
DOUGLAS: Martin. In the course of your jog-round, did you happen to instinctively notice whether Arthur had retrieved the bottle of water from the engine exhaust?
MARTIN: (wailing) Ohhhhh! (sound of something snapping)
DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin. You've broken your new shades.

END CREDITS.
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:29 am

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Series 2 episode 5 Kuala Lumpur

CARL: Welcome home, Golf Tango India. Vacate runway to your right, and taxi to your stand.

MARTIN: Thank you, Carl. Oh, incidentally, be advised: as we landed, we saw a large hawk or kestrel about fifty feet from the runway.

CARL: Noted, Golf Tango India. What was it doing?

DOUGLAS: Watching how it’s supposed to be done.



OPENING CREDITS: This week, Kuala Lumpur!




Door squeaks open.


ARTHUR: Mum? Can I borrow your car?

CAROLYN: Why? What’s wrong with your car?

ARTHUR: It’s really old, and it’s a horrible colour, and it smells of duffle coats.

CAROLYN: What’s wrong with it that’s stopping you driving it?

ARTHUR: Only those things. But I thought since we were on standby this week, I might go for some drives. In a nice car. Like yours!

CAROLYN: No, you won’t! Because you and I will be using this week to see if we can ease your stewarding skills up above that crucial dividing line between very bad and merely bad. I’m going to be your mystery passenger.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! Will there be clues?

CAROLYN: I mean we’re going to sit in the plane, and you’re going to practise serving me.

ARTHUR: Right! So what’s the mystery?

CAROLYN: The mystery is who I am.

ARTHUR: And who are you?

CAROLYN: I’m me.

ARTHUR: That’s not very mysterious.

CAROLYN: Oh, life’s too short. You and I are going to pretend to be a steward and a passenger –

ARTHUR: Oh, right. Bagsy be the steward!

There is a knock at the squeaky door.


MARTIN: Hello? Carolyn? Um, just had a thought.

CAROLYN: Oh good! A pilot with a thought: how the gods smile upon me!

MARTIN: Just occurred to me, for weeks like this, we really ought to have a pilots’ lounge.

CAROLYN: A what?

MARTIN: A pilots’ lounge.

CAROLYN: Martin, the very last thing I want to do is encourage either of you to do any more lounging than you already do.

MARTIN: It wouldn’t be for lounging in! It would be for our briefings, doing our log books. I thought maybe each month one of us could present a paper on some aspect of aviation that interests us.

CAROLYN: And to think a moment ago I thought the idea couldn’t sound less appealing.

ARTHUR: But mum, you could make money out of it. You could sell drinks.

CAROLYN: Without a licence? To pilots?

ARTHUR: No, no, I mean tea and coffee and things, to David and George from engineering and the fire crew and Carl the ATC. Even Dirk the groundsman!

MARTIN: Uh, no, no, no, it – it would be a pilots’ lounge, not for those guys – for the pilots.

ARTHUR: But that doesn’t make sense. I’m not a pilot.

MARTIN: ...No.

ARTHUR: But I’d be allowed in?

MARTIN: No.

CAROLYN: Martin, if you can find an empty room on the airfield, you are welcome to sit in it, and if you can lure Douglas in and then keep him there long enough to read a paper at him, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din. Close the door on your way out.

MARTIN: But –

CAROLYN: On which you should now go. I’m sorry, I thought that was implied.



Door rattles.


ARTHUR: Any good, Skip?

MARTIN: No, Arthur, because it’s locked.

ARTHUR: Ah. Ooh! I’ll tell you where you could try though – how about that scrapped DC10 fuselage out round the back of the hangar? I mean it’s probably full of rats and cobwebs and skeletons, but if we clean it up –

MARTIN: That’s actually not a bad idea. Tell you what though, Arthur: if it does turn out to be suitable, I thought we might strike a happy compromise between my idea of keeping it just for pilots and your idea of inviting everyone who works on the airfield.

ARTHUR: What would that be?

MARTIN: Just the pilots. And you.

ARTHUR: Oh! So I’d be like an honorary pilot?

MARTIN: No, you’d just be...you.

ARTHUR: Great! Although the engineers and everyone are really good fun. George does these brilliant impressions of fruit.

MARTIN: Yes, I’m – I’m sure they’re great, but - but what I want is a nice, civilised arena to compare notes with my fellow professionals. Right, here it is.

Laughter and chatter is heard from within the old fuselage.


MARTIN: Is there – is there someone in there?

ARTHUR: Sounds like it.

Door opens.


GEORGE: Next one, next one! Right, number twelve: the conference pear!

The twelfth fruit impression is greeted by a chorus of raucous cheers.


ARTHUR: Wow! Dave! George! Everyone! Hi!

GEORGE: Arthur? Captain Crieff!

MARTIN: Could someone please tell me what the hell’s going on in here?

DOUGLAS: Hallo, Martin.

MARTIN: Douglas!?

DOUGLAS: Welcome to the Flap and Throttle.

FLAP AND THROTTLERS: Yay!

ARTHUR: What a brilliant place, Douglas!

MARTIN: How long’s it been going on?

DOUGLAS: We just had our third anniversary actually.

MARTIN: So before I even got here?

DOUGLAS: Yes.

MARTIN: Why didn’t you tell me about it?

DOUGLAS: Well, we were just waiting for you to settle in, you know – get comfortable with everyone.

MARTIN: I’ve been here a year and a half!

DOUGLAS: And we’re still waiting.

MARTIN: I see. So it’s an illegal pub for everyone who works on the airfield except me.

DOUGLAS: Well, to be honest, I didn’t think you’d approve.

MARTIN: I don’t approve!

DOUGLAS: I thought you might have told Carolyn or the airfield manager.

MARTIN: I might have done.

DOUGLAS: Right, so that’s why we didn’t tell you.

ARTHUR: Yeah, but why didn’t you tell me?

DOUGLAS: Because it was a secret, Arthur, and you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst liar in the world.

ARTHUR: I’m not!

DOUGLAS: All right, answer this question with a lie: what’s your name?

ARTHUR: Arth...nuld Man, uh, Cat...su...man.

DOUGLAS: Arthnuld Manacatsuman?

ARTHUR: Yeah.

DOUGLAS: That’s an unusual name. Tell me, is it made up?

ARTHUR: Yes, it is. Oh!

DOUGLAS: You see that’s the sort of trick question you want to watch for. I’ll tell you a secret. The way to lie convincingly is never make something up, just tell a different truth. So, if you have to lie about where you were today, tell them where you really were last week. If you have to give a false name, use a real name you already know. Try again. What’s your name?

ARTHUR: Douglas Richardson!

DOUGLAS: Better. Not quite perfect.

A horn sounds.


ARTHUR: Oh, I forgot. Mum’s waiting for me in the plane.

MARTIN: What for?

ARTHUR: She’s being my mystery passenger.

DOUGLAS: Well, good luck. Let us know if you work out who she is.

ARTHUR: Right-o!



MARTIN: Douglas, an illegal pub on an airfield is incredibly dangerous and irresponsible.

DOUGLAS: Don’t be so melodramatic. No-one drinks when they’re on duty. It’s just a bit of fun. It’s more about the secret club atmosphere – you know, like at school.

MARTIN: Not at my school.

DOUGLAS: Oh, come on! You must have had secret clubs in the lunch-break at least.

MARTIN: No, actually. People weren’t really around during lunch-break. I think they went home or...oh.

DOUGLAS: Ah.

MARTIN: But anyway, I – I – I thought you didn’t drink – I thought you hadn’t had a drink for nine years?

DOUGLAS: Martin, that is a secret. I have carefully built up my reputation as a hard-boozing sky god, and I’m not having you spoil it.

MARTIN: So what do you drink there?

DOUGLAS: If you must know, you know every year I win a bottle of Talisker single malt from Carolyn –

MARTIN: Steal!

DOUGLAS: Win. Well, I keep it in the Flap and Throttle. Everyone knows it’s for my personal use only. Not everyone knows it’s refilled with apple juice.

MARTIN: Well, Douglas, look, I’m sorry, either you close it down immediately, or I’ll be forced to inform Carolyn.

DOUGLAS: I can’t close it down - it’s not my pub. If you want it stopped, you’ll have to come down and tell them yourself. All the mechanics, the engineers, the fire crew, Dirk the groundsman.

MARTIN: I’m not afraid of them!

DOUGLAS: Nor should you be. Not even Dirk...

MARTIN: Well, I’m not!

DOUGLAS: Good.

MARTIN: Why not even Dirk?

DOUGLAS: No reason. I just mean someone who was afraid of them would probably start by being afraid of Dirk. It’s the natural place to start.

MARTIN: Well, I’m not! I’ll come and tell them this evening.

DOUGLAS: Ooh, full moon!

MARTIN: Stop it!



CAROLYN: Arthur? Where have you been? I told you to meet me in the cabin half an hour ago.

ARTHUR: Sorry mum, I’ve been – I’ve been to the dentist.

CAROLYN: Oh, have you?

ARTHUR: Yes, I have. He said I’d been brushing really well but to watch out for my gums.

CAROLYN: Right...so no real change since last week then, when I took you?

ARTHUR: Oh yeah.

CAROLYN: Leave the lying to Douglas, dear – he’s the professional. So, it’s a normal flight. I’m the passengers. You’re you. Off we go.

ARTHUR: Wait, wait! Wh-where we going?

CAROLYN: It doesn’t matter. Oh, Pisa.

ARTHUR: Oh, but we went to Pisa last week.

CAROLYN: Where do you want us to go then?

ARTHUR: Kuala Lumpur!

CAROLYN: Why Kuala Lumpur?

ARTHUR: It’s like Helsinki. I’ve always wanted to go there. It sounds –

CAROLYN: Arthur! Let me warn you I am not in the best of tempers, and I strongly advise you not to start talking about a city populated by either koalas or oompah-loompahs.

ARTHUR: I have nothing to say.

CAROLYN: Good! And...go! “Excuse me, steward. Where can I smoke my cigarette?”

ARTHUR: Oh! I’m sorry, madam – this is brilliant! It’s like acting!

CAROLYN: Get on with it!

ARTHUR: I’m sorry, madam, uh, but for your happy convenience, cigarettes may not be enjoyed anywhere onboard at this time.

CAROLYN: “Oh. All right, what about this pipe?”

ARTHUR: I’m not sure. Um, let me just ask my –

CAROLYN: “She’s not onboard.”

ARTHUR: Oh, okay, well, I, uh, I’m going to go for no, sorry.

CAROLYN: “A reefer?”

ARTHUR: I don’t...

CAROLYN: “It’s medicinal.”

ARTHUR: Oh, medicinal. Well, I expect –

CAROLYN: No!

ARTHUR: No! I expect no! That’s what I was going to say. I expect definitely not.

CAROLYN: Arthur, here are the things you can smoke onboard –

ARTHUR: Oh no, hang on. Wait, I’ll write it down.

CAROLYN: You don’t need to write it down. It’s nothing! You can’t smoke anything on the plane!

ARTHUR: Nothing?

CAROLYN: Nothing!

ARTHUR: I’d still quite like to write it down.



Glasses chink, and assorted airfield staff murmur.


DOUGLAS: Okay, he’s on his way. Now remember we’re aiming for something between the bar in Cheers and the mess hall in Dambusters, and I know you’d think if you use ‘Captain’ in every sentence, he’ll think you’re taking the piss, but actually, he won’t. Right, here he is.

The door opens to rapturous (and disingenuous) cheers.


DOUGLAS: Welcome, Martin, to the Flap and Throttle!

DAVE: Pleasure to see you here, Captain!

GEORGE: An honour, Captain, a real honour.

MARTIN: What’s going on?

DOUGLAS: I mentioned you were coming down, and, well, everyone was very excited.

MARTIN: Well...I hope you told them why I was coming.

DOUGLAS: Of course not. That’s your job.

GEORGE: Now it’s a proper club, isn’t it?

DAVE: Yeah. It’s all very well having the First Officer down here, but the Captain, Captain, that’s different.

MARTIN: Then - why didn’t you ask me?

GEORGE: Never thought you’d accept, Captain.

DAVE: We thought you’d be one of those standoffish captains, Captain. Too grand to mix with the ground staff.

MARTIN: Ahem, yes, well, you don’t have to call me Captain all the time, you know.

DAVE: Oh right.

MARTIN: Skipper will do.

GEORGE: Thanks, Skipper – appreciate it.

MARTIN: Well, all right, listen, erm, men. Uh, the fact is –

GEORGE: Hang on, hang on, hang on! Can’t have the Skipper giving a speech without a glass in his hand. What you having, Skipper?

DAVE: No, no! I’m the chief engineer. I get to buy Skip a drink.

MARTIN: Ah, well, this is just it. Erm, I – I – I’m afraid I just can’t –

DOUGLAS: Martin, a quick word?

MARTIN: Now?

DOUGLAS: Operational matter.

MARTIN: All right.

DOUGLAS: Martin, it’s up to you, of course, but I just thought I should let you know these people are very proud. In their culture, there’s nothing more insulting than to spurn a gift. It’s a terrible loss of face.

MARTIN: What: engineers? Are you sure you’re not thinking of the Japanese?

DOUGLAS: Well, there’s so many great Japanese engineers the culture’s rubbed off on them.

MARTIN: Douglas, I can’t allow an illegal bar to operate on an airfield property, still less partake myself! What would Carolyn say if she found out?

DOUGLAS: I don’t know. Then again, these guys are all self-employed. If you close down their pub, they’ll probably refuse to work for us, and then MJN would fold instantly. I don’t know what she’d say about that either – but it’s your choice.

DAVE: Here we are, Skipper: your first pint at the Flap and Throttle.

GEORGE: First of many.

MARTIN: No, really, stop it. You must understand that I really - cannot accept this drink.

DAVE: You can’t accept it?

GEORGE: Well, why not, Skipper?

MARTIN: B-because...as the Skipper...first round is my round!

Much cheering ensues.




CAROLYN: All right. Today we’re going to build on yesterday – we’re not going to let yesterday get us down. Now let’s see you taking meal orders. Go!

ARTHUR: Hello, madam – chicken or beef?

CAROLYN: “Beef, please.”

ARTHUR: Okay. How did I do?

CAROLYN: Keep going!

ARTHUR: Uh, right-o. Hello madam, chicken or beef?

CAROLYN: “Chicken, please.”

ARTHUR: You said beef just now!

CAROLYN: I was being someone different!

ARTHUR: That’s pretty confusing, mum. Couldn’t you at least do a different voice?

CAROLYN: No, I couldn’t!

ARTHUR: Please? Because in real life, they’d have different voices. And faces!

CAROLYN: Oh, all right. (Acquires accent) “Chicken, please.”

ARTHUR: Certainly, madam! And you, madam?

CAROLYN: (Lowers voice several octaves) “Sir!”

ARTHUR: Beg your pardon, sir! Chicken or beef?

CAROLYN: “How is the chicken cooked?”

ARTHUR: Four minutes on defrost, shake the bag, three minutes on full.

CAROLYN: No! Don’t tell them that!

ARTHUR: Sorry, are you being you again or him or one of the others?

CAROLYN: Me! Just don’t tell him we reheat it.

ARTHUR: Well, he must know! Obviously, we don’t have a whole kitchen back there. He’s not stupid.

CAROLYN: Yes, he is. Everyone on this plane is stupid until proved otherwise.

ARTHUR: Shall I put that on the list?

CAROLYN: Isn’t it there already?

ARTHUR: Uh... (Rifles through notebook) ”The customer is always: wrong, rude, late, witless, loud, drunk, thieving and sly.” I suppose ‘witless’ sort of covers stupid.

CAROLYN: Oh, I don’t know. Stick ‘stupid’ down as well. Have you got ‘rude’?

ARTHUR: Uh, yep.

CAROLYN: Put it down again – it’s a good one.



DOUGLAS: You say that though, but they equalised within ten minutes, so I – I don’t -

Door clunks open.


MARTIN: Evening, chaps!

DOUGLAS: Oh, hello, Martin.

DAVE: All right.

GEORGE: All right.

MARTIN: Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to interrupt. Uh, carry on.

DAVE: Oh, we – we were just talking about, uh – did you see the match, Skipper?

MARTIN: The...match? No, I missed the match. I – I think we were on a trip.

GEORGE: It only finished twenty minutes ago.

MARTIN: Oh, that match. Oh, I was thinking of another match. No, I didn’t see that one either. I missed – missed both the matches.

DAVE: Right, well, I was just saying City never had a hope once they were down to ten.

MARTIN: Yes, well, um, as I say, I missed it.

DAVE: But you see what I’m saying?

MARTIN: Oh yes, yeah, of course, I see what you’re saying. Ten’s – ten’s not enough. You need a lot more than - than ten!

DAVE: Well, you need eleven.

MARTIN: That’s what I mean. Eleven, yes, that’s what you need. Not ten.

GEORGE: Who do you support, Skipper?

MARTIN: In football?

GEORGE: Yeah.

MARTIN: England. What, no, I mean obviously England and, uh, United.

DAVE: Which United?

MARTIN: Not-ting-ham...?

DAVE: Nottingham United? Never heard of ‘em. What league are they in?

MARTIN: I – don’t follow that closely actually.

GEORGE: Yeah, but you must know what league they’re in.

DOUGLAS: In many ways, they’re in a league of their own. Aren’t they, Martin?

MARTIN: Yes, that’s right. Ha.

GEORGE: Right. You from up Nottingham way originally then?

MARTIN: No. Wokingham. Down Wokingham way.

DAVE: Why did you pick Nottingham to follow then?

MARTIN: Well, Nottingham, Wokingham, they - sound very similar...Tell you what though, Dave, uh, you’ll be interested in this. You know that little Cherokee that was out doing circuits today? Well, on its third landing, he –

A hand bell is rung.


DAVE and GEORGE: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Shop! Shop! Shop! Shop! Shop! Shop!

MARTIN: What’s going on? What have I done?

DAVE: Talking shop, Skip, sorry – automatic round forfeit.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Flap and Throttle house rules, I’m afraid, Martin. Anyone caught talking shop has to buy a round for the whole bar.

MARTIN: Then how do you talk about flying?

GEORGE: Well, you can’t, can you? That’s the point.

MARTIN: So what do you talk about?

DAVE: I dunno – music, sport, women!

GEORGE: The meaning of life. Anything but bloody planes, eh?

MARTIN: Yes. Yeah, of course. Who wants to talk about stupid aviation?

The bell is rung with increased vigour.


DAVE: A-bomb! A-bomb!

DOUGLAS: Oh, come on. Go easy on him, chaps – he’s new!

DAVE: A-bomb!

DOUGLAS: Oh, all right. Fine. Sorry, Martin, the A-word is banned.

MARTIN: Oh, I – - I - I see. Hahaha. A-another round for everyone?

DOUGLAS: No, I’m afraid having two consecutive forfeits incurs a ‘Whoops Jonny’.

MARTIN: A what?

FLAP AND THROTTLERS: Whoops Jonny, Jonny, Jonny! Whoops Jonny! Whoops Jonny, Jonny, Jonny, Jonny! Waayaaah!

MARTIN: Oh, God.



CAROLYN: Okay, same as yesterday – you’ve got chicken or beef, but today, I’ll throw in some unusual diets.

ARTHUR: Great! Don’t forget to do the voices. Hullo, sir or madam.

CAROLYN: “Madam.”

ARTHUR: Madam! Would you like chicken or beef?

CAROLYN: “Well, now, that all depends. You see, I’m a celiac.”

ARTHUR: Oh, lovely! Chicken or beef?

CAROLYN: “It means I’m gluten intolerant.”

ARTHUR: Well, I – I’ll try not to be too gluten annoying.

CAROLYN:” It means I can’t eat gluten.”

ARTHUR: We’ve got chicken or beef.

CAROLYN: “Gluten is in wheat products.”

ARTHUR: Oh, right, yeah, with you. Um, I think they’re both fine.

CAROLYN: “No wheat in either?”

ARTHUR: I don’t think so.

CAROLYN: “Right. Then I will have the chicken.”

ARTHUR: Okey-dokey!

CAROLYN: Which is coated with breadcrumbs, so I’ll have a violent reaction; my airways will swell up, and maybe I’ll die.

ARTHUR: Perhaps the beef?

CAROLYN: Arthur, what things are made of wheat?

ARTHUR: Uh, wheat cakes, Weetabix...those little straw dollies –

CAROLYN: Bread! Bread is made of wheat.

ARTHUR: No!

CAROLYN: Yes! What did you think it was made of?

ARTHUR: It’s not made of anything. It’s just...bread.

CAROLYN: So where does it come from?

ARTHUR: Um, well, I don’t know. It – wow!



DOUGLAS: Five...four...three...two...one. (Alarm beeps.) And so ends another eventful shift. Right, Martin, see you in the Flap and Throttle later?

MARTIN: Yes.

DOUGLAS: Good! Don’t forget to bring your shin pads: it’s Skittles Night!

MARTIN: W-why – why do I need shin pads for skittles?

DOUGLAS: Oh, the way we play it, if you’re not bowling, you’re a skittle.

MARTIN: Oh, God.

DOUGLAS: You all right?

MARTIN: No!

DOUGLAS: Why not?

MARTIN: I hate it! Douglas, I really, really, really hate it! I hate the drinking games and the pop quizzes and the round forfeits and the competitive farting and the Whoops Jonnies and the bloody anchovies!

DOUGLAS: If it’s any consolation, I thought you coped very well with being anchovied. You had a real, quiet dignity.

MARTIN: I just can’t stand it!

DOUGLAS: Well, I suppose you could - it would be a wrench for all of us, of course – but you could stop coming in.

MARTIN: No! I can’t!

DOUGLAS: Can’t you?

MARTIN: Of course not! You saw what it was like when I first arrived. They were overjoyed! They said I made it a proper club, and they said it proved I wasn’t standoffish, so if I stop going there, it’ll prove I am standoffish. I – I only wish I’d never found out about the wretched place. Now I know about it I have to go! And I’m trapped. I’m trapped, trapped like a –

DOUGLAS: Tinned anchovy?



CAROLYN: All right. Today, we’re going to put everything we’ve covered so far together. I might throw anything at you - possibly literally. Are you ready?

ARTHUR: Yeah. And...if I manage it, can I borrow your car?

CAROLYN: Arthur, you haven’t managed any of these things on their own. What makes you think you can handle them together?

ARTHUR: I can’t eat eggs and flour and sugar on their own, but I can eat cake.

CAROLYN: All right then, but only if you really manage it.

ARTHUR: Actually I can eat eggs on their own. And sugar...and flour.

CAROLYN: Go! “Ding-ding! I say, steward, can my little girl go up on the flight deck for landing?”

ARTHUR: Uh, yes, I’m sure that’s fine.

CAROLYN: No! No, it’s against the law! (Welshly) “Ding-ding! Could you let the oxygen masks down, so we can have a practice with them?”

ARTHUR: Yes, of course! I’ll just go and –

CAROLYN: No! You can’t! “Ding-ding! Excuse me, my dear, I’m blind. Could you guide me to the toilet?”

ARTHUR: No! No, I can’t!

CAROLYN: Yes! Yes, you can! (Mannishly) “Ding-ding! Excuse me. I’m still waiting for my whiskey.”

ARTHUR: Yes, I –

CAROLYN: (Frenchly) “Ding-ding! And when are you going to take away my tray?”

ARTHUR: I –

CAROLYN: “Ding-ding! Mister, my tummy feels funny!”

ARTHUR: Shut up! All of you, shut up!

CAROLYN: Arthur, you can’t -

ARTHUR: You, too! Right, the French lady, I’ll take your tray – you show the blind lady to the loo.

CAROLYN: “No! Zis is not my job!”

ARTHUR: Just do it! And Mr. Powell, could you please –

CAROLYN: Who’s Mr. Powell?

ARTHUR: The man who wants his whiskey. I have to give them names, or it’s just confusing. And he looks like Mr. Powell, who taught me history.

CAROLYN: Arthur, he looks like me!

ARTHUR: Mum, excuse me! I am trying to talk to Mr. Powell! Mr. Powell, could you look after the little girl, please?

CAROLYN: “I will do nothing of the sort! I’m a passenger.”

ARTHUR: Okay! In that case: (Australianly) “Ding-ding! Hi! Don’t worry, mate. I’ll look after the little Sheila.” Oh, thank you so much. “No worries, mate.”

CAROLYN: Arthur! You cannot be passengers!

ARTHUR: You never said I couldn’t! (Scottish womanly) “Ding-ding! And I’ll show the blind lady to the loo!” Thank you. “Ooh, it’s my pleasure. Hoots –“

CAROLYN: Arthur!

ARTHUR: Shush! So, Bluey, you’ll look after the little girl. “Yip.” Mrs. Badcrumble, you’ll look after the blind lady. “Aye, I will.” Madame Fru-Fru, I’ll take your tray. Mr. Powell, here’s your whiskey. Now, ding-ding, the seatbelt signs are on – everybody sit down and SHUT UP! How did I do?

CAROLYN: Well, it’s not how they teach it in the training courses, but I have to admit it is what I might have done. Here! (Keys tinkle through the air.) Catch!

The keys land in Arthur’s awaiting hands.




MARTIN: So I mean I was within limits, but it was a ticklish little crosswind, sixty to sixty-five but gusting seventy, and I thought to myself, “Well, I have seven options here.”

DAVE: Seven?

MARTIN: Ah, quite right, Dave. Yes, eight. Haha! You see, I’d been given the one-nine runway, but do you know the airport at Nice?

DAVE: No.

MARTIN: Ah well, I’ll just explain the layout. They’ve got this very in-

DAVE: I mean yes, yes, I do know it.

MARTIN: Are you sure? Because you really won’t understand the story if you don’t. I’ll just refresh your memory. There’s a very odd na-

ARTHUR: Hey folks.

DAVE: Arthur! There you are!

ARTHUR: Hi Dave. I said I’d pop in, didn’t I?

DAVE: Yes, you did. You said you’d pop in at seven forty-five, and now it’s gone eight.

ARTHUR: I said about seven forty-five.

MARTIN: Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s here now. Come and join us, Arthur. I was, uh, just telling Dave about the landing into Nice.

ARTHUR: Ooh, what about the talking shop forfeit?

MARTIN: Oh, I’ve paid for that.

DAVE: Yeah, yeah, he bought me a drink, so now he can talk about flying. As much as he likes.

MARTIN: So there I was, and –

DAVE: Actually, I’ve got to go now.

MARTIN: Oh, really? I thought you wanted to see Arthur?

DAVE: No, no. Got to go.

MARTIN: Oh. Oh well, I - I’ll finish the story another time.

DAVE: No! Finish it now. Definitely. Arthur can fill me in later.

Door clunks on Dave’s exit.


MARTIN: That’s odd. That’s exactly what George did half an hour ago. It’s like you all can’t stand to be in each other’s company. Ha!

ARTHUR: Woah, that is odd.

MARTIN: I mean I must say I do like it being this quiet – it just seems, you know, strange, given how busy it was those first few...days. Oh. I see. Arthur?

ARTHUR: Hello!

MARTIN: Where have you just come from, Arthur?

ARTHUR: I had dinner, and then I went for a walk, and then I came here.

MARTIN: Where did you have dinner?

ARTHUR: An Italian restaurant.

MARTIN: What, in Fitton?

ARTHUR: Yep.

MARTIN: That doesn’t sound much like you.

ARTHUR: No. I’m quite enigmatic, though.

MARTIN: And I’d have thought you’d have had enough of Italian food since we were in Pisa last week...

ARTHUR: No! That just whetted my appetite.

MARTIN: Who did you have dinner with?

ARTHUR: Uh, Douglas and you – wouldn’t know the other person.

MARTIN: What was his name?

ARTHUR: Mar-k.

MARTIN: Mark Manucatsuman?

ARTHUR: No. Mark, uh...Ramprakash!

MARTIN: Of course! And the walk afterwards – where did you, Douglas and Mark Ramprakash go?

ARTHUR: We went to see the – tower – of air traffic control.

MARTIN: The Leaning Tower of Air Traffic Control?

ARTHUR: How do people do it? How do they lie? It’s impossible!

MARTIN: Where’s the new pub, Arthur?

ARTHUR: The mechanics’ loading bay.

MARTIN: Right!



The hubbub of pub is bubbling nicely, as the door opens.


ARTHUR: Uh, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Arthur? Aren’t you supposed to be on Martin-sitting duty? Ah.

ARTHUR: Sorry.

MARTIN: Hello, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Skipper! Welcome to the Windsock Arms!

MARTIN: Don’t ‘skipper’ me. So this is where everyone’s been!

DOUGLAS: Where everyone’s been busy preparing your surprise.

MARTIN: Oh, please, Douglas, don’t bother!

DOUGLAS: All right. We just thought, as captain, you were entitled to your own private bar, while we -

MARTIN: - Went off and set up another “cooler gang that I’m not allowed in”, yes. Yes, I get it. Well, bad luck.

Phone keys beep.


DOUGLAS: No, Martin, don’t!

MARTIN: Hi, Carolyn?

DOUGLAS: No!

MARTIN: I think you ought to come over to the mechanics’ loading bay.

DOUGLAS: Don’t say why!

MARTIN: Because there’s an unlicensed bar in it, that’s why.

DOUGLAS: Oh, great.

Phone disconnects.


MARTIN: She’s coming straight over.

DOUGLAS: I thought she might. All right, everyone get out but drain your glasses first. (There are murmurs of disquiet.) Just do it!

Glasses clink, as they return, emptied, to tables.


MARTIN: There’s no point in that – all the bottles are still sitting on the bar, and anyway, I have to tell her everything.

DOUGLAS: Really, Martin? Everything? Including the four days you spent as a pillar of the Flap and Throttle?

MARTIN: Yes, but I didn’t want to, and – and – and anyway, this isn’t about that pub: it’s about this pub! The one you left me out of.

DOUGLAS: You wanted to be left out of it! You told me so! You wanted to go back to not knowing. I was trying to help.

MARTIN: What? Oh no. Oh, Douglas, I’m sorry! I – I – I’m sorry! I didn’t realise. I, look, I’ll – um – I’ll phone her back –

DOUGLAS: Too late. Don’t worry. Tell her everything like you were going to, but get ready to follow my lead.

MARTIN: All right!

Door opens.


CAROLYN: What on Earth is going on – oh.

DOUGLAS: Evening, Carolyn. Welcome to the Windsock Arms!

CAROLYN: Oh, Douglas. This is too far, even for you! Providing unlicensed alcohol on an airfield to airfield staff on duty? Martin, how long have you known about this?

MARTIN: I’ve just discovered it now, just this – just now. Just immediately now.

CAROLYN: Who’s been coming here, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Ah well, the thing is I have a terrible memory for faces.

CAROLYN: I want a list of the names of everyone who’s been drinking here.

DOUGLAS: Also names. Faces and names – those are my weak spots.

CAROLYN: Douglas! I’m serious. We need to have a talk.

DOUGLAS: Always a pleasure, never a chore.

CAROLYN: In which I may have to fire you.

DOUGLAS: Quite right, too.

CAROLYN: I’m not joking.

DOUGLAS: Absolutely not! It’s terribly serious, and that’s certainly how you should react, if I ever set up an illegal bar in the airfield.

CAROLYN: You have!

DOUGLAS: Well, no, I haven’t. You see, Carolyn, I am your mystery perpetrator of gross professional misconduct. Hallo!

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: Arthur was telling me about all the fun you’ve been having with the mystery passenger lessons, and I thought it was a shame for you and Martin to miss out, so I arranged this – and you both did terribly well.

CAROLYN: Douglas, I am not an idiot. This place is full of booze.

DOUGLAS: But is it, though? Martin, pass me one of those bottles, would you? Absolutely any one at all. Your free choice.

MARTIN: Here you are.

DOUGLAS: Ah, the Talisker! Excellent choice, sir. There we are. (Bottle clinks against side of glass, and the ‘Talisker’ glugs into it.) On the house. Tell me what you think.

CAROLYN: Apple juice!

DOUGLAS: It does have apple-y overtones, doesn’t it? Or, if you prefer, I could do you water, cold tea or I think this one’s mouthwash.

CAROLYN: You went to all this trouble just to wind me up?

DOUGLAS: You and Martin. It was an irresistible two for the price of one deal.

CAROLYN: You are an infantile, time-wasting, sorry excuse for a pilot, and I ought to fire you anyway, just to teach you a lesson.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Funny though, wasn’t it?

CAROLYN: Martin?

MARTIN: Yes?

CAROLYN: Are you still there?

MARTIN: Yes.

CAROLYN: Then don’t be.

MARTIN: Right.

CAROLYN: Right. (Door closes.) Now, Douglas, listen to me.

DOUGLAS: Yes, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: A double gin and tonic, please, with ice and lemon.

DOUGLAS: Coming right up!

CAROLYN: Think that went all right?

DOUGLAS: Very well I thought. I’m impressed he took four days to tell you: I thought it would be sooner.

CAROLYN: I’m rather insulted he believed I’d fall for that rotten apple juice trick.

DOUGLAS: All in a good cause. Now Martin can return to blissful ignorance; the boys can relax again, and you can start coming back to the pub.

CAROLYN: Where’s the new one going to be?

DOUGLAS: We thought the fire crew break room – the Hose and Hydrant?

CAROLYN: Perfect! Cheers!

DOUGLAS: Cheers!

Glasses clink triumphantly.




END CREDITS
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:31 am

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CABIN PRESSURE
Series 2, Episode 6: Limerick

(Bing-Bong)

DOUGLAS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, we're now about half way through our flight from Hong Kong to Limerick. And I just thought I'd let you know that I am bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored! We're, unbelievably, still flying over Russia, which continues to be stupidly big, really enormous, far bigger than necessary. We've been in the air now for about a week. It doesn't look like we'll be landing until the last syllable of recorded time. So if anyone on board knows any card tricks, ghost stories or would like to have some sex, please do make your way to the flight deck. Thank you.

MARTIN: Err, ladies and gentlemen, I do…I do profoundly apologize for my first officer and his badly misjudged attempt at humour. I do hope you weren't distressed by his outburst. And, and let me just say, in his defence, that up here in the flight deck it is unbelievably bor-ring!

DOUGLAS: So boring!

MARTIN: So very, very, very, boring!

DOUGLAS & MARTIN: Bored!

(Opening credits -This week: Limerick)



MARTIN: Why does Tipperary always get the blame for it being a long way to? It's an even longer way to Limerick.

DOUGLAS: Only by about that 30 miles.

MARTIN: Don't suppose they sing about it much there then.

DOUGLAS: What? Where?

MARTIN: It's a long way to Tipperary. In Limerick, well they probably have their own version. It's a short way to Tipperary. I'm just popping up there now actually. Can I get you anything?

DOUGLAS: They're certainly both a hell of long way from Hong Kong.

MARTIN: That's true. And all just for this (patting at a box). And you'd think they could pop it in the post, wouldn't you?

DOUGLAS: Well, it's time sensitive of course. And the chap was telling me it's more valuable ounce for ounce than gold. Rhymes for flight (game).

MARTIN: Bite, Fight, Night, Right.

DOUGLAS: Ah, yes, here's one. (over intercom) Ladies and gentlemen, we're just flying over Gloucestershire now. You may be able to make out a town below, though it's quite hard to identify through the cloud cover. Or as they say, in Limerick. We hope you're enjoying the flight. On your left, we're just coming in sight of Swindon or Stroud, all covered in cloud. And it's much the same thing on the right.

MARTIN: Davina McCall

DOUGLAS: Yes, fair enough. You can have that.



ARTHUR: Hi, chaps. Nice one, Douglas. Just to settle an argument though.

CAROLYN: It's not an argument. It's you being wrong.

ARTHUR: Just settling me being wrong. Are we really over Swindon and Stroud?

DOUGLAS: No, Arthur, not for hours yet.

CAROLYN: Told you, clot.

DOUGLAS: Wishful thinking, I'm afraid. And I felt Swindon and Stroud might be easier to rhyme than Krasnoar meysk and Vyshny Volochyok.

ARTHUR: Oh, right. “Myshny Molomyok”, “Gyshny Gologyok”, “Chyshny Cholochyok”. Yes, see what you mean, “Vyshny VoloVyok” (rhyme game).

DOUGLAS: Yes, maybe we could leave you to go through the rest of the alphabet off the intercom?

ARTHUR: Ok. Oh, before I go though, what's the time?

MARTIN: Where's your watch?

ARTHUR: It's broken. I was trying to find out the difference between splashproof and waterproof.

MARTIN: Well, Arthur, the time is just…… coming up to 9:16, now.

DOUGLAS: Yes, or to be a little bit more precise, 6:33.

MARTIN: No, it isn't.

DOUGLAS: Yes, it is.

MARTIN: No it - Damn, it's done it again.

DOUGLAS: You see, Arthur, you and Martin have something in common.

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

DOUGLAS: It's that both of your watches are broken.

MARTIN: No, it isn't. It's just bedding in.

CAROLYN: Arthur, it's an intercom, not a chat line. You're supposed to be putting the dinner on.

ARTHUR: Oh, right. Sorry, Mum.

MARTIN: It's just because you can't bear to admit that I picked up a genuine Patek Philippe for almost nothing.

DOUGLAS: In Hong Kong.

MARTIN: Look, I'm not stupid. I realizes most of the watches in shops like that are fakes. That's why I went for this one. This… this was the one he didn't want to show me.

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes?

MARTIN: Yes, you see. At first he got out his standard tourist trap tray of ROOLEXs and OBEGAs (fakes) . I just said to him, “Look, I'm not a tourist. I'm an airline pilot.”

DOUGLAS: You should've told him you were a captain.

MARTIN: I did actually.

DOUGLAS: Imagine my surprise.

MARTIN: No, but I was too clever for him. I spotted this one right at the back of high shelf. He said, “Oh, I was hoping you would not see that.”

DOUGLAS: Oh, did he? Gosh, so just clarify for me, why did he have it in his shop?

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Why did he put something that he hoped he wouldn't have to sell in his shop? Why not put it, I don't know, under his bed? Is it like a forfeit system he set up for himself?

CAROLYN: Evening, drivers. Oh.. isn't that a lovely sunset?

DOUGLAS & MARTIN (simultaneously): No, it's not!

CAROLYN: Oh, all right. Now, Douglas, give me a Bing-Bong.

DOUGLAS: Oh, but Carolyn, this is all so sudden.

CAROLYN: Oh, hoho, funny pilot, Bing-Bong, please. (over intercom) Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has now illuminated the seat belt sign, so please ensure your hand baggage and duty-free are safely stowed, your tray tables are folded away and your seat is returned to the upright position. Or as they say, in Limerick. The captain has turned on the signs, so stow away bags of all kinds. Then make sure your tray is folded away and your seat back no longer reclines.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Do I take it as you're bored back there as we're up here?

CAROLYN: Well, honestly, 14 hours with the broken DVD player, no passengers to tease, and the ever present fear that I'll weaken and let Arthur play charades.

MARTIN: No!

DOUGLAS: You must be strong. That might well make the boredom level's actually fatal.

CAROLYN: I know. Well, haven't you two got a game going or something?

MARTIN: Just started one actually. Agatha Christie.

DOUGLAS: Yes, true. Russell Crowe.

MARTIN: Good one.

CAROLYN: What is it?

MARTIN: It's people who aren't evil but have evil-sounding names. Like Russel Crowe.

CAROLYN: What's wrong with Russell Crowe?

MARTIN: Russell Crowe! (in evil's voice)

DOUGLAS: Russell Crowe! (in evil's voice)

CAROLYN: No, no, no, no…Russell Crowe, here to save the day.

DOUGLAS: Mark me well. Soon you'll rue the day you dared to cross Russell Crowe!

CAROLYN: All right, then yes.

MARTIN: So far Douglas has got him, and I got Agfa Christie and Davina McCall.

CAROLYN: Because obviously it has to be a competition.

DOUGLAS: Of course. It's who can get most in half an hour ending at seven as measured by Martin's watch, which adds a pleasingly random element.

MARTIN: No, it doesn't.

CAROLYN: Evelyn Waugh.

DOUGLAS: Not bad.

ARTHUR: Coffee, chaps. Wow, brilliant sunset!

MARTIN: No, it isn't

DOUGLAS (simultaneously as Martin): No, it's not.

ARTHUR: Oh, okay, rubbish sunset.

MARTIN: Arthur, “M”.

ARTHUR: What? Oh! Mountain, Moccasin, Magma.

CAROLYN: What's this now?

DOUGLAS: Arthur's trying to learn the phonetic alphabet. He favors the spot-check method of revision and none of the above Arthur, no.

ARTHUR: Err, Molecule, Mongoose, Mosquito

MARTIN: Shorter.

ARTHUR: Mosque!

CAROLYN: It's a name.

ARTHUR: Macnamara, Mitchison, Moon.

DOUGLAS: A first name.

ARTHUR: Martin, Maggie, Milly, Molly, Mandy, Matthew, Michael.

CAROLYN: Nearly, shorter.

ARTHUR: Micky, Mick, Mi, Mo!

MARTIN: No, Arthur, the phonetic alphabet version of letter M is not “Mo”. It's Mike.

ARTHUR: I was close then.

MARTIN: In comparison to Molecule, Milly, Molly, Mandy…yes.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! Anyway, like I say, coffee?

CAROLYN: Careful! Don't put it on that.

ARTHUR: Sorry, sorry, why? What's that?

CAROLYN: That is the cargo, the whole reason we are here.

ARTHUR: Wow! That, that box, that's all? What's in it?

DOUGLAS: Guess.

ARTHUR: Oh, great!

CAROLYN: This could take a while…

DOUGLAS: If there's one thing we've got, it's a while. Go on, Arthur, 20 questions.

ARTHUR: Yes, brilliant. 20 questions. Or, charades?

OTHERS: No!

ARTHUR: But I've got… I really got a good one. Oh, all right. Is it a diamond?

MARTIN: No, 19.

ARTHUR: Is it a ruby?

MARTIN: No, 18.

DOUGLAS: You might want to start with more general questions, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Ok, animal, vegetable or mineral?

MARTIN: Animal, 17.

ARTHUR: Right. Is it bigger than a sheep?

CAROLYN: Look at the size of the box…

ARTHUR: Oh, yeah, is it bigger than the box?

DOUGLAS: Is it bigger than the box it's in…No, it's not. 15.

ARTHUR: Is it alive?

DOUGLAS: Ah, interesting. Debatable. 14.

MARTIN: Really, debatable?

DOUGLAS: Wouldn't you say?

MARTIN: Oh, yeah, I suppose so, yes.

ARTHUR: Is it valuable?

CAROLYN: No, of course not! The client just chartered a plane and two pilots to fly a packet of crisps half around the world. Arthur, you remember when I told you to put the dinner on?

ARTHUR: Yeah…

CAROLYN: Did you in fact do that?

ARTHUR: No, no… now I think about it. I got mixed up and made coffee.

CAROLYN: Yeah, perhaps. Then perhaps you could have another crack-at-it now.

ARTHUR: Right-o, what are we having?

CAROLYN: Admiral's pie.

ARTHUR: Ok, is that the same as the Fisherman's pie?

CAROLYN: No, it's not. The Admiral and Fisherman favor, entirely different pies.

ARTHUR: Right so, how long does it get in the micro?

CAROLYN: 3 minutes, 1 minute, 3 minutes.

ARTHUR: Ok!

DOUGLAS: I don't know when I've looked forward to a meal more.

CAROLYN: Oh, be quiet!

CAROLYN: Is it me or is the sun not getting any lower?

DOUGLAS: No, it's not just you.

MARTIN: Because we're flying west into a sunset near the Arctic circle.

DOUGLAS: Every time it just dips behind the horizon. ATC makes us climb a thousand feet and up it pops again like God's own fiery yo-yo.

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum, did you say 1 minute, 3 minutes, 1 minute?

CAROLYN: Oh, for goodness sake, no, of course not. What cooks for 1 minute and stands for 3? It's 3, 1, 3!

ARTHUR: Oh, right. Ok, actually I think that's easy to remember – because I'll just think of 4-3-3 squadron and only remember to swap the first two numbers and take 3 off the middle one.

CAROLYN: Arthur, are you insane? That's the stupidest way to remember anything I've ever heard.

MARTIN: Also it's not 4-3-3 squadron. It's 6-3-3 squadron.

ARTHUR: Oh, yeah, thanks, Skipper. So first I've got to add 2 to the first squadron I think it is, to get the real squadron, and then swap…..

CAROLYN: No, don't do any of that. Just remember it. Just use your brain and remember the three numbers.

ARTHUR: Yes, sorry. 3, 3…..

CAROLYN: No! Oh, come with me.



MARTIN: So, how's Helena?

DOUGLAS: What do you mean? What are you getting at?

MARTIN: I'm asking after the health of your wife.

DOUGLAS: Oh yes, as a preparation for a crack about her thinking – what she thinks.

MARTIN: No, as a way finding out how she is.

DOUGLAS: She's fine.

MARTIN: Good. Why are you suddenly so…

DOUGLAS: I'm not suddenly anything. Anyway, how's your…

MARTIN: My what?

DOUGLAS: I don't know. There must be someone by now. No?

MARTIN: No, still no.

DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin! You're a young single airline captain. How difficult can it be?

MARTIN: Really, really difficult.

DOUGLAS: Well what about cabin crew?

MARTIN: Hmm, well, for two very different reasons, I'm afraid neither Arthur nor Carolyn quite float my boat.

DOUGLAS: Not our cabin crew. Everybody else's. All those gorgeous stewardesses down route.

MARTIN: Actually I think the whole “Hostie's easy” thing is a bit of sexist male fantasy.

DOUGLAS: No, it's not.

MARTIN: Oh, right, you pull stewardesses all the time then, do you?

DOUGLAS: Certainly not. I'm a happily married man.

MARTIN: Yes, right, but you have done.

DOUGLAS: More than you can possibly imagine.

MARTIN: Well, that's not true for a start. I can imagine a thousand stewardesses.

DOUGLAS: And your point is?

ARTHUR: Err, chaps, two quick things.

DOUGLAS: “J”.

ARTHUR: Oh! Justin, Jeffery, Jilly, Jenny, Georgina.

MARTIN: It's one half of a famous pair of lovers.

ARTHUR: June!

DOUGLAS: If you can imagine such a thing, a pair of lovers even more famous than Terry and June.

MARTIN: Romeo and…

ARTHUR: Jumeo! Juleo! Juliet!

MARTIN: Yes!

ARTHUR: I got that quite quickly, didn't I?

DOUGLAS: Quite quickly?!

ARTHUR: Yeah. Now, yeah, two things. First, Douglas, what was that place again?

DOUGLAS: What place?

ARTHUR: The one we were over. The one you said I couldn't rhyme…

DOUGLAS: Oh, err, Vshnny Volochyok.

ARTHUR: Yeah, well, I thought, what if, you had a musical instrument, right? And you wanted to make sure there weren't any sea-creatures on it.

DOUGLAS: Yes?

ARTHUR: You do a fish-free oboe check.

DOUGLAS: Yes…Not bad. Not good though.

ARTHUR: Is it human?

MARTIN: What?

ARTHUR: The thing in the box? Is it human, like part of the body?

MARTIN: Oh, no, 12.

ARTHUR: All right. So it's animal, not human, valuable, smaller than the box it's in, and may or may not be alive.

DOUGLAS: Like Schrodinger's Cat.

ARTHUR: Is it Schrodinger's Cat?

MARTIN: No! 11.

ARTHUR: Is it an animal?

MARTIN: No, 10.

ARTHUR: a plant?

MARTIN: No, 9.

ARTHUR: But it might be alive?

MARTIN: Yes… 8.

ARTHUR: Is it magic?

CAROLYN: Arthur, why is there a half cooked Admiral's pie congealing in the microwave?

ARTHUR: Oh, I forgot about it. It was just having its little rest in the middle, because otherwise it goes bubbly at the edges, and you'll have to…

CAROLYN: Yes. Thank you. Heston Blumenthal! Just sort it out.

ARTHUR: Right-o.



DOUGLAS: Heston Blumenthal.

CAROLYN: Yes, you know the chef.

DOUGLAS: Yes, I know. I meant, Heston Blumenthal (in evil's voice).

MARTIN: Oh! Yes, of course. Damn.

CAROLYN: But that was mine.

DOUGLAS: Finders, keepers.

CAROLYN: Ah…All right. Calista Flockhart.

MARTIN: Yes, very good.

DOUGLAS: No, no, I don't think so.

CAROLYN: What do you mean? Tremble, puny mortals, for I'm she who is known as Calista Flockhart (in scary tones).

DOUGLAS: Well you can do any name in the voice. But there's nothing wrong with it. It's…Well, Calista is from the Latin for beautiful. And Flockhart, what could be nicer than the flock of hearts?

CAROLYN: Calista's suggesting callouses and blisters, Flock's suggesting flog, pluck and pick. Calista Flockhart, the calloused and blistered one who comes to flog and pluck your heart.

DOUGLAS: Nonsense.

MARTIN: Just because she reminds you of one of your old girlfriends.

DOUGLAS: Well, not so much reminds me of.

MARTIN: I don't believe it.

DOUGLAS: Speaking of which, Martin, have you though about Internet dating?

MARTIN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: What? There's no stigma to it these days?

MARTIN: Douglas! Carolyn's here.

DOUGLAS: Oh, we're all friends here. You should try it.

MARTIN: Well…I had looked at a site once. But you have to go on all about your hobbies and outside interests then, and…you know.

DOUGLAS: Yes, not your strong suit.

MARTIN: Anyway, I don't want all the weight of expectations. I just want to find a nice natural low stakes way to meet people.

CAROLYN: I find walking the dog works rather well. Oh, hello! I've finally found the flight deck mute button, have I? Any particular reason it should be so surprising that I might be interested in meeting someone too?

MARTIN: No, not at all.

DOUGLAS: No, of course not.

CAROLYN: As I say, I can wholly recommend having a dog around. Anyone with a dog is allowed to talk to anyone else with a dog. It's like a secret loophole for allowing the English to talk to strangers. What I don't so much recommend is having your 29-year-old son living at home with you. It's a big house of course. He has his own part of it. But even so, a house containing Arthur is very difficult to mistake for an empty house. Yeah, none of this is any business of yours, miserable underlings.

DOUGLAS: No, it was wrong of us to ask.

CAROLYN: Yes! Well, things to do (slams the door).

DOUGLAS: Well…

MARTIN: Well…



MARTIN: Arthur, “F”.

ARTHUR: Oh, Fox.

DOUGLAS: Nearly.

ARTHUR: Foxes.

MARTIN: Fox something? Fox what?

ARTHUR: Foxwhat? Foxhat, Foxhead, Foxclock, Foxface, Foxbox.

MARTIN: No, not foxbox! It's a type of dance.

ARTHUR: Tango!

MARTIN: No, the phonetic alphabet for F is not Tango.

DOUGLAS: Foxtrot.

ARTHUR: Oh… I nearly said that. I got the fox-bit.

MARTIN: Well done!

ARTHUR: Anyway, I just popped in to ask, is it manmade?

MARTIN: What?

ARTHUR: The thing in the box, is it made by a man?

MARTIN: Oh, no.

ARTHUR: Is it made by an animal?

MARTIN: You see, that's really a stupid question that you just happened to have got lucky with – yes.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! How many have I got left?

MARTIN: Don't know, about 10?

ARTHUR: Ok. Is it made by bees?

MARTIN: No, 9.

ARTHUR: Worms?

MARTIN: No, 8.

ARTHUR: Dogs?

MARTIN: No, 7.

ARTHUR: Tigers?

MARTIN: No, 6. Are you sure this is the line of questioning you want to pursue?

ARTHUR: Yes. Bears?

MARTIN: No, 5.

ARTHUR: Horses?

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Err, Martin…

MARTIN: Oh, yes. It is made by horses.

ARTHUR: Brilliant. Now then, what do horses make?

CAROLYN: Arthur, pie!

ARTHUR: Yes, sorry. Excuse me, chaps.



MARTIN: Douglas, look! At last the sun's almost gone again.

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes, there it goes. Come on, you big red sod set, damn you!

MARTIN: There it goes. Come on…Come on…

DOUGLAS: Tell you what, descending 50 feet. And, Gone!

MARTIN: That's better. Oh…Isn't it lovely dark?

DOUGLAS: Hmm, the sun has taken his hat off. Hip, hip, hip, hurray!

MARTIN: Taken off his hat at last and gone a bloody way. Shall I put the lights on?

DOUGLAS: No, let's keep the flight deck dark for a while, like a fighter plane.

MARTIN: Yeah!

DOUGLAS: You know for what it's worth, I think you should give one of those dating sites a go. You can always make up a hobby.

MARTIN: Yeah, but… even if I did meet someone, where would I take them? They'd expect an airline captain to be able to wine and dine them. And I'm always broke, because…well, you know why.

DOUGLAS: You don't have to tell them you're an airline captain. Err, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Does Carolyn really not pay you anything?

MARTIN: No, nothing.

DOUGLAS: So how do you get by?

MARTIN: I have another job, that I fit in around the trips.

DOUGLAS: Yes?

MARTIN: (sighs) I am a man.

DOUGLAS: Yes, all right. Martin, you're not in an Arthur Miller play.

MARTIN: Let me finish. I am a man with a van.

DOUGLAS: Ah!

MARTIN: People call me up and I go around in my van and move their stuff for them.

DOUGLAS: I see. Where did you get a van?

MARTIN: My dad died. He left me his van.

DOUGLAS: That's nice. Isn't it?

MARTIN: Well, he didn't leave me any money. I mean, I didn't want his money, but he didn't leave me any. Simon and Caitlin got five grand each, but I didn't. Suppose because he thought I'd spend it on trying to become a pilot – waste it on trying to become a pilot, because I had spent thousands by then. So instead, he left me his van, and his tool kits, and his sodding multimeter. I mean, he did even leave a note in the glove compartment saying “ For god's sake, son, give it up and become an electrician.” But he might as well have done. And then four months after he died, I got my first job as a pilot. I mean it was rubbish job, but four months! And then I got this job, and I was a captain, but not making money. I went back to the van. That's why I don't have any hobbies. My job is humping boxes into my dad's old van. That's what I'm paid to do. This, this is my hobby. And it's not your fault, but it doesn't help that I sit next to you, with your perfect life, your happy marriage, your salary, and…Well, frankly any figures at all, it doesn't help.

DOUGLAS: Not a perfect life, perhaps. After all, I'm sitting next to you.

MARTIN: Oh, thank you, thank you for those few kind words of sympathy.

DOUGLAS: I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I'm not at Air England anymore. I'm here. And you know some things about my life. You know about Helena thinking I'm the captain.

MARTIN: Yes, why did you tell her that?

DOUGLAS: I didn't tell her. She just assumed I was. People tend to do that. Don't know if you've noticed.

MARTIN: Yes, I have.

DOUGLAS: And I just failed to correct her.

MARTIN: Well, for what it's worth, I really think you ought to tell her. I mean, she loves you. She's not gonna care, you know, whether you're a captain or not.

DOUGLAS: Yes, I have told her now actually.

MARTIN: Oh, right.

DOUGLAS: Yes, quite soon after you came over that day.

MARTIN: Right, and how did she take it?

DOUGLAS: Really well, very well. You were quite right. She didn't mind it at all, not at all. She was glad I told her.

MARTIN: Right, great. Oh, that's wonderful. God, I thought from the way you were saying it, she'd hit the roof.

DOUGLAS: No.

MARTIN: Good.

DOUGLAS: Very calm.

MARTIN: And, wasn't I right? Don't you feel it's a huge weight off your back?

DOUGLAS: Yes, and, no…

MARTIN: And no?

DOUGLAS: What she actually said was, she was pleased I told her my secret, because it made it easier for her to tell me hers.

MARTIN: Oh...

DOUGLAS: Hers were the more conventional sort. If I had to criticize, I must say it lacked the verve and the originality of mine. I mean, "Darling, I've been lying to you about the precise rank I hold in a small charter airline. I flatter myself that's not a confession often made." "Darling, I've been having an affair with my Tai Chi teacher, bit more run of the mill."

MARTIN: Oh...

DOUGLAS: I mean, fair enough. Points for Tai Chi teacher rather than tennis coach or dancing instructor. But basically a familiar territory.

MARTIN: Oh.

DOUGLAS: Hmm.

MARTIN: So sorry.

DOUGLAS: Thank you.

MARTIN: Oh, God, if only I hadn't come round that night.

DOUGLAS: Oh, no. Don't be silly. You didn't tell her after all. Now I don't blame you, I blame the Chinese.

MARTIN: What for?

DOUGLAS: Tai Chi.

MARTIN: Think that was the Japanese.

DOUGLAS: I bet you a fiver – it was the Chinese.

MARTIN: You're on!



CAROLYN: Gentlemen…Why are you lurking in the dark? Do you not have fifty P for the meter? (turns on the light) That's better!

DOUGLAS: Ah! Yes, you've just temporarily blinded both your pilots. But hey! What harm could that do?

CAROLYN: Don't fuss. We bring many gifts to cheer you, such as, Arthur, Dinner!

ARTHUR: Here we go, chaps.

DOUGLAS: Good God!

MARTIN: Is this the famous Admiral's pie?

ARTHUR: Yep.

DOUGLAS: The Admiral's not a fussy eater, is he?

CAROLYN: Well you have to bear in mind that idiot features here has been re-heating it and forgetting about it by turns for the last half hour.

DOUGLAS: I think I'll stick to the sandwiches we picked up at the airport, unendorsed by senior naval personnel though they are.

MARTIN: Yeah, me too.

ARTHUR: All the more pie for me.

CAROLYN: So be it. But gentlemen, we bring food for the soul, not just the body. I now present, Mr. Arthur Shappey, with a story of a famous Scottish actor who went for a solitary hike in Russia, got caught in the rain and regretted not having packed with more care. Or as they say in Limerick.

ARTHUR: Sean Connery, in Vyshny Volochyok in the rain on a drizzly solo trek, said, “forgetting my sweater has made me much wetter. I certainly do miss my polo-neck.”

MARTIN: Well, Arthur, that was…just not rubbish, I mean…Wasn't it, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Certainly it was, and more. All your own work?

ARTHUR: Well, Mum helped a bit with, the writing of it.



ARTHUR: Oh, the thing in the box, was it made by a lot of horses or just one?

MARTIN: Just one. 3.

ARTHUR: 1, 3?

MARTIN: One horse. Three questions left.

ARTHUR: Was it a famous horse?

MARTIN: I suppose so, yes. 2.

ARTHUR: Is it famous for the things he makes?

MARTIN: Well, sort of… not in the way you're thinking. He's not a famous Horse Potter. One, last question.

ARTHUR: All right.

CAROLYN: He's famous for making other horses.

ARTHUR: Wow!

CAROLYN: And now of course you think of a horse frankenstein, don't you?

ARTHUR: Yeah!

CAROLYN: That's my boy, but no! He makes horses in the usual way horses make other horses.

ARTHUR: Oh!

CAROLYN: The penny drops?

ARTHUR: Is it …the thing in the box, is it…? Err !(tone of disgust)

DOUGLAS: That's right

ARTHUR: Oh, no! Oh, that's put me right off my pie.



DOUGLAS: Still it's probably good for our souls. I mean, if we're ever in danger of becoming dazzled by the sheer glamour of this job, we can always reflect that the four of us once spent three days traveling half way around the world and back as couriers of a bottle of horse…

CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas (interrupting Douglas). That will more than do. Arthur, “B”.

ARTHUR: Oh! Big, Bag, Bog, Bob, Bush, Ball, Bag, Bug, Bag, Bag, Bag.

CAROLYN: It is not Bag. Two syllables.

ARTHUR: Balloon, Baboon, Bassoon, Bubble, Babble, Back…Bag, “Bag-bag”, Baghdad.

MARTIN: No, it's something you say at the end of a play.

ARTHUR: Bye-bye.

CAROLYN: No! What do you say to the actors?

ARTHUR: Boo!

DOUGLAS: No! Like Encore.

ARTHUR: Bencore!.

MARTIN: Bravo!

ARTHUR: Yes, I knew that.

DOUGLAS: You really, really didn't.

ARTHUR: Another…

CAROLYN: No!

ARTHUR: Go on, please. Just one more, one last one.

DOUGLAS: All right, “G”.

ARTHUR: Golf.

DOUGLAS: Yes, that's right.

ARTHUR: Well, obviously I know some of them.



CAROLYN: What's the time?

MARTIN: It is precisely, 1 minute to seven.

DOUGLAS: Or in fact…Oh, no, is one minute to seven.

MARTIN: Of course it is. Because this, loathe though you are to admit it, is a genuine Patek Philippe.

CAROLYN: So who won the evil name game?

DOUGLAS: Oh, it's two all, I think, if I left you to have Calista Flockhart.

MARTIN: Oh, there must be another one. Err, how much time have I got?

DOUGLAS: What does your watch say?

MARTIN: I just told you... Oh! Patek Philippe, that's an evil name.

CAROLYN: Is it?

DOUGLAS: Patek Philippe (in evil's voice)? Well he's certainly not a goody. Not sure he's the super villain though. Maybe he's a henchman.

MARTIN: Rolex?

DOUGLAS: That's the villain's pet robot.

MARTIN: Omega?

CAROLYN: That's his Doomsday device.

MARTIN: Tag Heuer!

DOUGLAS: And there he is. Martin wins.

MARTIN: Yes, I win!

CAROLYN: What noise is that?

DOUGLAS: That, I believe, is the sound of seven o'clock makes on a genuine Patek Philippe.

ARTHUR: So are we nearly there now?

DOUGLAS: No, five hours still to go.

CAROLYN: What are we going to do now?

ARTHUR: I've got an idea, and it's really a good one.

CAROLYN: Oh…all right.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! Here goes.

MARTIN: It's a film.

DOUGLAS: One word.

OTHERS: Airplane!

ARTHUR: How did you know?!



Ending Credits
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:33 am

Especial Navidad

[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]

DOUGLAS: Air-con?

MARTIN: Off.

DOUGLAS: Anti-collision light?

MARTIN: On.

DOUGLAS: Fuel pump switches?

MARTIN: On.

DOUGLAS: Dasher?

MARTIN: On.

DOUGLAS: Dancer?

MARTIN: On.

DOUGLAS: Prancer and Vixen?

MARTIN: On. Comet?

DOUGLAS: On.

MARTIN: Cupid?

DOUGLAS: On.

MARTIN: Donner and Blitzen?

DOUGLAS: To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!

MARTIN: Dash away!

DOUGLAS and MARTIN: Dash away! Dash away all!



OPENING CREDITS - This Christmas, Molokai!




OCEANIC ATC: Thank you, Golf Tango India. Continue as cleared.

DOUGLAS: Golf Tango India, continue as cleared. Thank you, Oceanic, and merry Christmas.

OCEANIC ATC: I’m a Shinto Buddhist.

DOUGLAS: And may you be a merry one. (There is a distinctly Arthurian trumpeting sound.) Ah, Arthur’s awoken. Brace yourself.

MARTIN: What for?

DOUGLAS: Oh, is this the first time you’ve flown with Arthur on Christmas morning?

(Flight deck door opens.)

ARTHUR: ♪Get dressed, you merry gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay! For it is Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!♪

DOUGLAS: Yes –

ARTHUR: ♪It’s Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!♪

MARTIN: Arthur –

ARTHUR: ♪It is Chri-i-i-i-istmas Day, Chri-istmas Day! It is Chri-i-i-i-ismas Day!♪

DOUGLAS: Are you finished?

ARTHUR: Not necessarily! I know other verses.

MARTIN: No, you don’t! You don’t even know that one.

ARTHUR: With respect, Skip, I absolutely do know that one. It goes ♪Get dressed, you merry gentlemen -♪

MARTIN: No, no, it doesn’t. It’s not ‘get dressed’ – it’s ‘God rest’. God rest you merry gentlemen.

ARTHUR: No, it’s not.

MARTIN: Yes, it is! Why would you be telling them to get dressed?

ARTHUR: Because it’s Christmas!

MARTIN: What, so they’re naked?

ARTHUR: No, they’re in bed! It’s saying ‘come on, you merry gentlemen – it’s Christmas! Up’n’at ‘em! Get dressed. Let’s do our stockings!’

MARTIN: No, it’s ‘God rest’.

ARTHUR: Well, that makes no sense. God rest, you merry gentlemen? What’s a God rest?

DOUGLAS: Somewhere to put your god?

MARTIN: Not God rest you merry gentlemen. It’s God rest you, merry gentlemen!

ARTHUR: Well, that makes no sense either!

DOUGLAS: Actually, it’s neither. It’s God rest you merry, gentlemen. As in 'Happy Christmas, gentlemen. I hope God gives you a restful and merry one and doesn’t accidentally shut you in a flying cupboard with a pair of idiots'.

ARTHUR: Oh, cheer up, Douglas! We’ll be back in Tokyo in no time, and then we’ve got the rest of Christmas off. What are you going to do?

DOUGLAS: Go back to the hotel, bit of sleep, ring my daughter, and then go out and ingest a quite heroic quantity of festive sushi.

ARTHUR: How about you, Skip?

MARTIN: I don’t know. I’ll probably sit by the pool, read a book.

ARTHUR: Oh, Skip! That’s not very Christmassy.

MARTIN: Well, I’m not that big on Christmas.

ARTHUR: Well, if you change your mind, you’re both welcome to join mum and me. We found this brilliant Japanese restaurant called The Auspicious Pig and Whistle Old England Style Happy Pub, and we’re having turkey and Christmas pudding and presents and carols and stockings and silly hats and mulled wine.

DOUGLAS: All quite low key then, is it? (There is a bing-bong.) Oooh, ♪Bing-bong merrily on high! In heaven, the phone is ringing.♪

MARTIN: Hello? Captain Crieff.

CAROLYN: Martin! Tokyo calling. Merry Christmas! Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men – even pilots. How was Hong Kong?

MARTIN: Are you all right, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: Perfectly, thank you, but, more importantly, are you all right? Sleep well? Nice and well rested, are you?

DOUGLAS: Martin, don’t –

MARTIN: Yes, thanks. I –

DOUGLAS: It’s a trap!

CAROLYN: Good! Now then, my festive fliers, you remember that friendly little chat we had about working at Christmas?

DOUGLAS: No, I don’t. I remember an enormous argument, when you announced that you’d booked us to fly Japanese golfers back and forth all through Christmas week without asking us.

CAROLYN: Well, I’m sorry, but Christmas wasn’t on the wall chart.

DOUGLAS: Christmas was on the wall chart. It was written on the wall chart by the makers of the wall chart. And I remember us finally, very graciously, agreeing to do it, on the strict understanding that our last Hong Kong run would be on Christmas morning, and we’d be back in Tokyo with the rest of the day to ourselves by midday precisely.

CAROLYN: Yes, well, I’d like to propose a very minor tweak to that arrangement, by which you can still get back into Tokyo at noon.

MARTIN: Yes...?

CAROLYN: And there you pick up me and a Russian yacht broker, and fly us on to Hawaii.

MARTIN: Hawaii?

CAROLYN: Hmm, the island of Molokai, to be precise, which Mr. Alyakhin either owns a beach resort on or quite possibly just owns – it’s not entirely clear.

DOUGLAS: So you want us to spend another seven hours of Christmas Day in an aeroplane?

CAROLYN: Look, this is in all our best interests. Mr. Alyakhin is a huge charter firm user, and if we can get on his list, then our ridiculous business (the survival of which is already as astonishing as when you go into a motorway service station and see they’ve still got a Wimpy) might just continue into the New Year.

ARTHUR: But, but mum? What about our Christmas? At the Auspicious Pig and Whistle? With the turkey and pudding and stockings and a tree and mulled wine?

CAROLYN: Yes, don’t worry - we’ll still do all that, but in sunny Hawaii. It’ll be exactly the same, but with less sake and more hula.

ARTHUR: Okay.

CAROLYN: Ooh, and Arthur? This is a very important client, so we’ll be giving him our very best customer service, okay?

ARTHUR: Absolutely, mum! I’ll pull out all the stops.

CAROLYN: Ah, no, no, no. Our very best customer service.

ARTHUR: Oh, right. I’ll hide in the galley and let you do everything.

CAROLYN: Good boy!



DOUGLAS: Post ruddy take-off checks grudgingly completed, Captain. By a First Officer who should, by all natural laws, be just tucking in to his seventh hosomaki.

MARTIN: Douglas, I’m sure they'll have sushi somewhere on Molokai.

DOUGLAS: I’m sure they won’t. They’ll have Chicken Santa Burgers. And pretzels.

ARTHUR: So, so twelve plus seven is nineteen, and nineteen o’clock is – don’t tell me! One o’clock is thirteen. Two o’clock is fourteen. Three o’clock is fifteen –

MARTIN: Seven o’clock, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Oh, okay, so we – we still get Christmas evening?

DOUGLAS: Plus the five hour time difference.

ARTHUR: Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve – oh.

MARTIN: Sorry.

ARTHUR: No, I – I don’t really mind. We’ll just have our Christmas on Boxing Day. That’s - that’ll be almost as good. Pretty much. Nearly as good. In some ways. Anyway, I’m not all that bothered about Christmas. I think it’s been over-commercialised.

MARTIN: Do you?

ARTHUR: Yes, I do.

DOUGLAS: That’s an interesting opinion.

ARTHUR: It’s one I’ve long held.

DOUGLAS: What does ‘over-commercialised’ mean?

ARTHUR: It means it’s too much, um, it’s over – it used to be under, but now it’s – I don’t know! Terry on the fire crew said it, and it sounded really grown up. But I love Christmas! It’s my equal favourite time of year with my birthday, summer, Easter, mum’s birthday and Lent.

DOUGLAS: Oh, cheer up. It’ll be round again before you know it.

ARTHUR: Yeah. Yeah, I know. Doesn’t really matter. ‘Scuse me, chaps. I’m just going to go sit in the galley for a bit. ♪You better not pout. You better not cry.♪




MARTIN: Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Hmm?

MARTIN: I was just thinking about poor old Arthur, missing out on his big Christmas, you know, his turkey, pudding, presents and silly hats and so on.

DOUGLAS: Hmm.

MARTIN: Well, well, I – I was just thinking, if we wanted, we could probably sort of do some of those things here, couldn’t we, in the flight deck?

DOUGLAS: I thought you said you were glad to be missing Christmas?

MARTIN: Oh, I am! No, completely, but for Arthur’s sake.

DOUGLAS: And how do you propose to cook a turkey dinner at thirty-five thousand feet?

MARTIN: I don’t know, but we’ll think of something, and the others seem quite doable.

DOUGLAS: Of that list, as far as I can see, all we’ve got are hats.

MARTIN: Yeah, and they’re not very silly ones.

DOUGLAS: Yours is quite silly.

MARTIN: I keep telling you! I didn’t ask for extra - it’s just the standard amount of gold braid they put on a captain’s hat these days.

DOUGLAS: In the Democratic Republic of Congo, maybe.

MARTIN: Well, anyway, what do you think? Fancy a flight deck Christmas?

DOUGLAS: I think it’s an utterly stupid idea for two reasons: one of which is obvious, and the other of which is that Arthur is twenty-nine years old.

MARTIN: Pass the time, though.

DOUGLAS: Oh, go on, then.

(Intercom beeps.)

MARTIN: Arthur, could you step into the flight deck?



CAROLYN: So what exactly is it your company does, Mr. Alyakhin?

MR. ALYAKHIN: We sell yachts.

CAROLYN: Oh, what sort of yachts?

MR. ALYAKHIN: Massive yachts.

CAROLYN: To whom?

MR. ALYAKHIN: To people who do not have massive yachts – or more often to people who do have massive yachts but who would now like another yacht even more massive. Or newer. Or less sunken.

CAROLYN: And do you use a lot of private air travel?

MR. ALYAKHIN: Every spring, we are more or less constantly flying clients out to Antibes.

CAROLYN: Well, I do hope this spring you’ll consider MJN Air.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Ah ha ha ha ha. I’m sorry. Ha. You are very good to support your employers, but my clients – they expect a little more than, you know, a minibus with wings.

CAROLYN: Well, actually, I am the CEO of this company.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Really? But also the stewardess?

CAROLYN: For our most important clients, yes.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Hmm, this is perhaps one small thing in your favour. Most of the firms we use, the stewardesses are very young, very beautiful, and the clients, of course, they like this, but sometimes it causes – hm – problems. You, I think, would not cause these problems.

CAROLYN: No...

MR. ALYAKHIN: No. You are more like, uh, old babushka.

CAROLYN: Am I really?

MR. ALYAKHIN: You know this word ‘babushka’?

CAROLYN: Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Yes, it’s not really a compliment.

CAROLYN: No. So will you – will you consider us?

MR. ALYAKHIN: No.

CAROLYN: But –

MR. ALYAKHIN: Seriously, no. Now, what wines do you have?

CAROLYN: Well, I gave you the wine list earlier.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Yes, I read that. It was very funny. What wines do you have?

CAROLYN: Those are our wines.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Ah, very well. Luckily I did a little bit of shopping in Tokyo. Serve me this, please, babushka.



MARTIN: Yes, Arthur, but aircraft don’t have chimneys.

ARTHUR: Why not?

DOUGLAS: Shall we move on?

MARTIN: Because –

DOUGLAS: Next – presents.

ARTHUR: Well, I’ve got you all presents, but they’re in the hold.

MARTIN: Oh, we could do a Secret Santa!

ARTHUR: Oh, great!

MARTIN: I write each of our names down on four slips of paper. Now we all take one.

DOUGLAS: Mine says ‘Martin’.

MARTIN: And we don’t say who we’ve got.

DOUGLAS: I bet they all say ‘Martin’.

MARTIN: No, they don’t. And now we think of a present for whoever we’ve got.

DOUGLAS: Like what?

MARTIN: Anything. For instance, you could give your person – whoever he might be – first crack at the cheese tray for a month. Or do the walk round for him next time it rains. Or simply pay him a nice compliment about what a fine commanding officer he –

DOUGLAS: This can be Carolyn’s slip. Give me another one.



(Door opens.)

CAROLYN: Douglas, what are you doing in the galley?

DOUGLAS: Searching for turkey.

CAROLYN: Well, I think there’s an old chicken sandwich in the door of the fridge.

(Fridge is opened.)

DOUGLAS: Aha! Oh, by the way, I’m supposed to tell you we’re having a Secret Santa.

CAROLYN: What fresh hell is this?

DOUGLAS: One of those things where you’re given a slip with someone’s name on it and you get them a present. You’ve got Martin.

CAROLYN: Look, tell him I’m sorry but I just don’t have time to – oh! Unless...does he like red wine?

DOUGLAS: Martin? I think so, yes.

CAROLYN: Fine. I’ll give him this then. Mr. Alyakhin just gave me this bottle to serve him. It’s nothing too special, is it?

DOUGLAS: Oh! Petrus 2005. That’s rather nice actually.

CAROLYN: Oh, well, it’s Martin’s lucky day then.

DOUGLAS: And what are you planning to serve Mr. Alyakhin?

CAROLYN: Well, what do you think? The same wine box Chateau Gatwick we give everyone.

DOUGLAS: What happened to ‘our very best customer service’?

CAROLYN: Well, firstly, everyone’s palate is shot at thirty-five thousand feet, and he’ll never notice, and secondly, he calls me babushka.

DOUGLAS: And yet he lives.



MARTIN: Hmm, now what about a tree? Any ideas?

ARTHUR: Hmm. If we had a bush, we could put it on a stick.

MARTIN: Any ideas that don’t rely on us having a bush?

(Flight deck door opens.)

DOUGLAS: Gentlemen, I have in my hand a chicken sandwich.

ARTHUR: Oh, well done, Douglas! So we just need to fish the bits of chicken out, and, I don’t know, somehow make them a bit more like turkey.

MARTIN: How do we do that?

ARTHUR: Um, can we make them drier and sort of not as nice tasting? But in a good way!

DOUGLAS: Certainly we can. Leave it to me. Next – Christmas pudding. How on Earth are we going to do that?

MARTIN: Well, I suppose it’s basically just a cake with dried fruits and cream on top –

ARTHUR: And brandy poured over it and set fire to!

DOUGLAS: You realise that might be a tallish order in an aircraft flight deck?

ARTHUR: All right, I’ll let you off that one.

DOUGLAS: But I will check my coat pockets for chocolate raisins.

ARTHUR: Hooray!



CAROLYN: How are you finding your wine, Mr. Alyakhin?

MR. ALYAKHIN: Mm, superb.

CAROLYN: So glad. Now listen. I admit we may not be the fastest or slickest aircraft in the skies –

MR. ALYAKHIN: I think you more or less lost that race when the Wright brothers took off.

CAROLYN: But it’s owned and run by someone who will fight harder for your money, and not only that but will fight for much, much less of it. This much less. (Produces MJN’s quote with a flourish.)

MR. ALYAKHIN: Ah, now that is very interesting argument, but could you really handle three or four flights a month from us?

CAROLYN: Certainly! I mean I won’t pretend we’re not a small company, but –

MR. ALYAKHIN: Ah, that in itself is not a problem. I mean so long as there’s a crew and relief crew, theoretically, even if you employ just four pilots, we would consider you.

CAROLYN: Oh, interesting.

MR. ALYAKHIN: How many do you employ?

CAROLYN: Well, ha ha, as it happens, the bare minimum of, as you say, four.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Yes, you see the danger with really tiny firms is that you tend to cut corners and bend rules just to survive, and this leads to little problems.

CAROLYN: Oh, not us though, absolutely not. We are sticklers at MJN. We...stickle.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Well, let me ring my CFO, and we shall see.



CAROLYN: Drivers, I’m bringing – why does it smell of chicken in here?

MARTIN: Because Douglas has hung strips of chicken all over the air conditioning ducts.

CAROLYN: Arthur, why on Earth –

MARTIN: Not Arthur – Douglas.

CAROLYN: Oh, good Lord, it’s catching! And what are you doing, Martin?

MARTIN: I am, for the benefit of your son, shelling these chocolate raisins.

CAROLYN: Shelling them?

MARTIN: Yes. There’s no chocolate in a Christmas pudding, so I’m rolling them between finger and thumb until the chocolate crumbles off.

CAROLYN: Of course you are. Well, if I could just ask you to pack away your various charming handicrafts for now, I’m bringing Mr. Alyakhin up to use the sat-com. So, Arthur? Get in the locker.

ARTHUR: The locker? Mum! Can’t I just hide in the galley?

CAROLYN: He has to come through the galley to get to the flight deck, idiot!

ARTHUR: Well, I won’t say anything to him! I’ll just be like, you know, the man in the galley. Okay?

CAROLYN: No! It’s not okay. When a very wealthy business man hires a private plane, he doesn’t assume it will come with ‘a man in the galley’. Now get in the locker!

ARTHUR: Fine.

(Locker rocks noisily at the sudden invasion of an Arthur.)

CAROLYN: All right. Back in a minute, and you two? Try to look like pilots. You know, real pilots.

(Flight deck door closes.)

DOUGLAS: Martin?

MARTIN: Mm?

DOUGLAS: While Arthur’s shut away in a small tin cupboard, can I ask you, in the Secret Santa, did you happen to get me?

MARTIN: Well, I – I don’t think I should tell you, should I?

DOUGLAS: Not if you’re upholding the strictest principles of Santa-ly Secretiveness, no, but just between us?

MARTIN: Yes, as it happens I did.

DOUGLAS: Excellent. Can I swap with you?

MARTIN: But then you’d get you.

DOUGLAS: I know.

MARTIN: Why – why would you want yourself?

DOUGLAS: Well, call it a harmless whim.

MARTIN: This is a scheme, isn’t it?

DOUGLAS: A scheme? Me? On Christmas Day? What sort of a person do you take me for?

MARTIN: What are you after this time?

DOUGLAS: Oh, nothing that would interest you. Will you swap then?

MARTIN: Who’ve you got?

DOUGLAS: Arthur.

MARTIN: Ooh! I could give him a stocking. Okay then.

(Slips are swapped.)

DOUGLAS: Thank you.

MARTIN: Now, do you have an orange on you?

DOUGLAS: An orange? Orange. (Change jingles, as DOUGLAS makes absolutely certain he isn’t concealing a satsuma about his person.) Let me just check my citrus pocket. No. And my emergency citrus pocket?

MARTIN: Yes, all right!

DOUGLAS: Why do you want one?

MARTIN: Well, there’s always an orange in a Christmas stocking! And chocolate coins and a sugar mouse. Everyone knows that!

DOUGLAS: I see. This is definitely all still for Arthur’s benefit, is it?

MARTIN: Yes!

DOUGLAS: Just checking. How are you going to make chocolate coins?

MARTIN: Well, I’ve the chocolate I peeled off the raisins. I just need to...put it on some coins.

(Flight deck door opens.)

CAROLYN: Mr. Alyakhin, this is Captain Crieff.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Pleased to meet you.

DOUGLAS: And you, though actually –

MARTIN: I’m the captain.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Are you?

MARTIN: Yes.

MR. ALYAKHIN: I’m sorry. I thought you were the – uh – what do you call him?

DOUGLAS: Captain’s Little Helper?

MARTIN: No, I – I am the captain.

MR. ALYAKHIN: He doesn’t look like a captain. I fear our clients would not be impressed. Perhaps, when welcoming them aboard, this one could wear the captain’s hat?

MARTIN: No, he couldn’t! Sorry, no.

DOUGLAS: No, I agree. You see Captain Crieff here has assiduously built up his neck muscles by constant wearing of that hat. Whereas I fear the sheer weight of gold braid would snap mine like a dry twig.

MR. ALYAKHIN: What does your other captain look like?

MARTIN: What other captain? I’m the captain!

CAROLYN: Out of the two of you, yes, but obviously, we have other pilots at MJN Air.

MARTIN: Do we?

CAROLYN: Yes, of course!

DOUGLAS: Remind me, if you would, of the names of the others.

CAROLYN: Well, there’s uh – there’s Nigel, and, um, and Noel!

DOUGLAS: Noel! Christmassy name.

CAROLYN: Yes...yes, he was born on Christmas Day.

DOUGLAS: Oh, really? I never knew that about old Noel.

CAROLYN: Well, now you do.

DOUGLAS: Is that why he didn’t have to fly today, because it’s his birthday?

CAROLYN: No! He doesn’t have to fly today, like Nigel, because they’re senior to you two and get to pick their trips first, because they’re so much better.

DOUGLAS: Oh, I see. Is that why you’re stewardessing today as well? Rather than our usual stewardesses - Holly and Ivy and Carol? And Mary Christmas?

MARTIN: Yes, and Bert!

DOUGLAS: Yes, dear old Bert, the stewardess. Eighty-six today and still less grumpy than certain of his colleagues.

MARTIN: Ei-ei-ei-ei-eighty-six today, did you say?

DOUGLAS: That’s right! He shares a birthday with Noel – and the little baby Jesus.

CAROLYN: All right, that will do! Mr. Alyakhin, the sat-com.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Thank you, thank you. (Sat-com beeps, and MR. ALYAKHIN commences conversation in Russian.)

DOUGLAS: Um, by the way, Carolyn, sorry to bother you, but I've just realised I’ve got myself in the Secret Santa. Can I swap with you?

CAROLYN: What? Yes, yes, for all I care. Oh! No, no, no, no – wait! I was going to give Martin that wine.

DOUGLAS: So?

CAROLYN: Well, I can’t give it to you, can I? You don’t drink.

DOUGLAS: Oh, don’t worry. I have friends who drink. I’ll pass it on.

CAROLYN: Oh, all right then. Here’s the slip.

(Slips swap once again.)

MR. ALYAKHIN: Harasho. Spasiba, Andre. Spasiba. Okay, I have finished. Babushka, let us return.

MARTIN: Babushka?

CAROLYN: Say nothing.

(Flight deck door closes.)

MARTIN: So, your scheme then?

DOUGLAS: Yes?

MARTIN: Was to get hold of that bottle of wine?

DOUGLAS: Yes.

MARTIN: Expensive bottle of wine, is it?

DOUGLAS: Oh yes.

MARTIN: Really expensive?

DOUGLAS: Yep.

MARTIN: Hundreds of pounds?

DOUGLAS: Couple of thousand, probably.

MARTIN: You’re going to sell it?

DOUGLAS: Certainly am.

MARTIN: Ohh.

DOUGLAS: Don’t feel bad for Carolyn. She nicked it in the first place.

MARTIN: Christmas really brings out the best in you, doesn’t it?

ARTHUR: Er, chaps? Can I come out yet?

MARTIN: Oh, God, sorry, Arthur! Yes, of course.

(Locker door opens.)

ARTHUR: Ah. Oh, that’s better. Um, whose is this umbrella? I’m afraid I might have...stood on it a bit.

MARTIN: Oh, Arthur! That’s mine, and it’s new!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Skip. Still, it is a green umbrella.

MARTIN: Yes, so?

(Umbrella rustles in process of being stood on end.)

ARTHUR: Christmas tree!

DOUGLAS: Ah yes, just like the carol: #Deck the halls with Martin’s brolly.#

MARTIN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: #Fa la la la la, la la la la!#



MR. ALYAKHIN: I am sorry, babushka. I don’t think it will work. You, I like, and I believe I can see how we could sell your terrible aircraft as ‘retro experience’. But your captain - he does not inspire confidence, I’m afraid he looks to me like exactly the sort of rule-bending chance-taker I was talking about.

CAROLYN: What? Martin? You’re rejecting us because you think Martin might not be enough of a stickler? Right! Come with me.



ARTHUR: Aw, it’s beautiful.

MARTIN: All right, who wants to put the star on top?

(Flight deck door opens.)

CAROLYN: I’m bringing him back. Arthur, in your locker!

ARTHUR: I’m going! I’m going!

CAROLYN: Come on through!

MR. ALYAKHIN: Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt again. Good Lord, what is that?

DOUGLAS: Nothing. Just an umbrella. It’s drying off.

MR. ALYAKHIN: You’ve...decorated it?

DOUGLAS: No, no. We’ve just dropped things on it. Strategically.

MR. ALYAKHIN: And you, what are you covered in?

MARTIN: Me? Oh, oh yes, I – I – I may have got a bit of, uh, chocolatey stuff –

MR. ALYAKHIN: Why?

MARTIN: Just a snack. Keep the blood sugar level up. It’s a long way from Hong Kong to Hawaii.

DOUGLAS: Martin!

MR. ALYAKHIN: From Tokyo...

MARTIN: Yeah, but we started in Hong Kong.

CAROLYN: Oh God!

MR. ALYAKHIN: Do you mean to tell me that, before you flew me from Tokyo to Molokai, you flew from Hong Kong to Tokyo?

MARTIN: ...No.

MR. ALYAKHIN: No, you didn’t?

MARTIN: No, I didn’t mean to tell you that.

MR. ALYAKHIN: Then how can you possibly still be within your legal hours? I’m sorry, babushka, but this is precisely the sort of dangerous corner-cutting I was afraid of –

DOUGLAS: Er, if I may?

MR. ALYAKHIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Before you go any further, there’s someone I think you should meet. (Opens locker.) Mr. Alyakhin, this is Noel. Say hello, Noel.

ARTHUR: Hallo, I’m –

DOUGLAS: No need to say anything else! Noel is our relief pilot, who has been swapping in and out with both of us throughout the two sectors, thus extending our duty hours in the CAA approved manner. Haven’t you, Noel?

ARTHUR: Yes, I –

DOUGLAS: That’ll do.

MR. ALYAKHIN: But why has he been hiding in locker?

DOUGLAS: Well, because...as you know, today’s his birthday, and we’re organising a surprise birthday party for him.

MR. ALYAKHIN: I see. And I suppose that explains the chocolate and decorations?

DOUGLAS: Oh, so it does! I mean yes, it does.



(Gerti drives to her stand.)

DOUGLAS: After landing checks complete and on stand at seven minutes to midnight precisely.

MARTIN: Arthur! We’re ready! In you come! (Flight deck door opens.) Okay, Arthur, your seven minute Christmas starts...now!

ARTHUR: Hooray! (Blows party whistle.)

MARTIN: Where did you get that from?

ARTHUR: Oh, I always carry one of these. You never know.

MARTIN: And off we go! Tree – look!

ARTHUR: It’s beautiful!

DOUGLAS: It’s a green umbrella with little milk buckets stapled to it.

ARTHUR: I think it’s beautiful!

MARTIN: Decorations – t’dah!

ARTHUR: Wow, I’ve never seen so many of the warning lights on before.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Yes, this is what happens if you tell a plane it’s flying when it’s actually parked. Poor old Gerti would like us to know she’s flying considerably too close to the ground and infinitely too slowly.

MARTIN: Turkey! Direct from the Air-Con Carvery. Here you go.

ARTHUR: Mm, lovely.

MARTIN: Seconds?

ARTHUR: Ooh, why not? It’s Christmas!

MARTIN: Christmas pudding! Now the trick here is it’s a bit like a tequila slammer. You take a raisin, dip it in custard-cream crumbs and then knock it back with coffee creamer. Ready?

ARTHUR: Ready!

MARTIN: Go!

(ARTHUR gulps, chokes and coughs his way through his shot of Christmas pudding.)

ARTHUR: Ah, oof, lovely!

(Flight deck door opens.)

CAROLYN: Success, my little Christmas elves! Mr. Alyakhin has agreed to give us a trial run in the New Year.

MARTIN: Carolyn! Great! You’re just in time for presents.

CAROLYN: Why are we doing it now?

ARTHUR: Because for the next four minutes, it’s still Christmas!

CAROLYN: But –

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, you first.

CAROLYN: Oh, well, yours is the wine, Douglas. Shall I get it for you?

MARTIN: No time! Douglas, what did you get for Carolyn?

DOUGLAS: You remember twenty minutes ago, when I brilliantly and singlehandedly saved your bacon with the yacht broker?

CAROLYN: Yes...

DOUGLAS: Well, merry Christmas!

CAROLYN: Thank you.

ARTHUR: My turn! My turn! This is for you, Martin. It’s one of just a couple of things you missed off the list, you see. A silly hat!

MARTIN: Oh...goodness. Is that my hat?

ARTHUR: Yes, but made silly!

DOUGLAS: Sillier.

MARTIN: How is all that staying on?

ARTHUR: Well, I’ve used a sort of framework of dry spaghetti to hold up the –

MARTIN: The cooked spaghetti, yes. Yes. Thank you, Arthur. It’s just what I, um, least expected. Now then, this is for you.

ARTHUR: Oh, an extra sock. Brilliant! Now I’ll always have a pair even when one’s in the wash.

MARTIN: The sock’s not the present - it’s a stocking!

ARTHUR: Oh, wow! Thank you, Skip! Oh, what have we got? Um, an orange – Tic Tac...

MARTIN: It’s the closest I could get.

ARTHUR: A sugar sachet with a - a rabbit drawn on it?

MARTIN: It’s a m-mouse! it’s a sugar mouse!

ARTHUR: Right, yep, and some 5ps that, um, with – what’s happened to the 5ps?

MARTIN: Because of the chocolate! They’re chocolate coins!

ARTHUR: Oh, brilliant! Thank you!

(Watch alarm sounds.)

MARTIN: And midnight!

ARTHUR: Aw, well, thank you, chaps – best Christmas ever!

DOUGLAS: Really? You did spend a fair amount of it in a tin box.

ARTHUR: Yeah, all right. Well, best this year anyway.

DOUGLAS: Not necessarily. What about next Christmas?

ARTHUR: Well, that’ll be next year.

DOUGLAS: Interestingly, no. You see, I have a little extra present for you, Arthur. And that is the information, which, of course, as a professional pilot, Martin will hardly have forgotten, that as you fly from Tokyo to Hawaii, you pass over a thing called the International Date Line.

MARTIN: Ohhhohhhhh!

DOUGLAS: At which point you put the clocks back twenty-four hours. In a way, that makes this 12.01 on Christmas morning.

ARTHUR: No!

DOUGLAS: So my present to you, Arthur, is that we are all of us about to have the whole of Christmas Day off – in Hawaii, some of us having had the benefit of a dry run.

ARTHUR: ♪Get dressed, you merry gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay! -♪

DOUGLAS: Yes, perhaps save the full rendition for tomorrow morning.

ARTHUR: Thank you, Douglas! Best present ever! Oh, and actually, that’s great, because I got an extra present for everyone. The other thing you left off my list, Skip.

MARTIN: Hm?

ARTHUR: This!

MARTIN: Mulled wine...(Said beverage glugs out into glasses.) How lovely!

DOUGLAS: You...took my Petrus ‘05, and you...mulled it.

ARTHUR: Well, not properly. I don’t have the stuff, but, you know, I whacked in some fruit juice and some sugar and the rest of the orange Tic Tacs, and then I just blitzed it in the microwave. It’ll be close enough!

DOUGLAS: YOU...

MARTIN: Of course, it’ll be close enough, and it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Absolutely. Thank you, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Oh, you’re welcome! Merry Christmas!

(Glasses clink, and all the boys have coughing fit.)

CAROLYN: That’s actually rather good.
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:39 am

Serie 3:

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CREDITS: This week, Qikiqtarjuaq!

CAROLYN: Good morning, gentlemen! How are we today? Satiated with the delights of New York, all ready to go home?

DOUGLAS: Yes

MARTIN: Mmm, absolutely.

CAROLYN: Then home we shall go. Almost straight away, pausing only for an extremely minor detour.

DOUGLAS: Oh, no.

MARTIN: Carolyn, I can’t!

CAROLYN: To Toronto!

DOUGLAS: Oh, well, that is quite close.

CAROLYN: And then a quick stop to Qikiqtarjuaq and straight home!

DOUGLAS: Oh, Sorry, where?

CAROLYN: Qikiqtarjuaq! Q-I-K-

ARTHUR: Mum! Sorry, but you forgot the U.

CAROLYN: No, I did not. There isn’t a U. It’s Q-I-K-I-

ARTHUR: No, Mum, there’s always a U after a Q. It’s the law. Mrs. Dimand taught me that. Eventually.

CAROLYN: And you are a credit to her. Nonetheless the good people of Qikiqtarjuaq choose to spell it Q-I-K-I-Q-T-

MARTIN: Another Q?

CAROLYN: Yes. Q-T-

ARTHUR: Q-T? Well, I’m not going to be the one to tell Mrs. Dimand!

DOUGLAS: Leaving the spelling bee aside for a moment, where is this kicky tarry jack?

CAROLYN: Are you referring to Qikiqtarjuaq?

DOUGLAS: You’re really proud of yourself for having learnt to say that, aren’t you?

CAROLYN: Yes. Also, it’s rather pleasing to say Qikiqtarjuaq. Anyway, it’s in Canada.

MARTIN: Near Toronto?

CAROLYN: Nearish.

MARTIN: How nearish?

CAROLYN: About, ooh . . . seventeen hundred miles.

MARTIN: No, Carolyn, I’m sorry, I absolutely can’t, I’ve got a job on Thursday.

CAROLYN: No you haven’t.

MARTIN: I do! Not with MJN, I mean a delivery job, with my van.

CAROLYN: Oh, well, that doesn’t matter.

MARTIN: It matters to me, Carolyn! It happens to be the only thing I’m actually paid to do!

DOUGLAS: Right. I’ve looked it up on my phone. It’s a tiny, isolated settlement in the Arctic Circle! Why on earth are we going there?

CAROLYN: Because that is where the polar bears are.

DOUGLAS: And where do the polar bears want to go?

CAROLYN: The polar bears don’t want to go anywhere. The polar bears just want to be left in peace and quiet. But that is where the polar bears find themselves bang out of luck. Because we are picking up a dozen tourists from Unbeaten Track Travel and flying them past every polar bear we can find between Toronto and Qikiqtarjuaq!

ARTHUR: What? Are we?!? Polar bears?!? We’re going to fly over polar bears?! And see them and look at them and be with the polar bears?

CAROLYN: Yes, we are.

MARTIN: No, we’re not.

ARTHUR: YES WE ARE, SKIP!

MARTIN: No we’re not! For one thing, Gertie’s much too fast a plane; you need a prop-engine aircraft to watch wildlife, not a jet!

CAROLYN: Well, why can’t we just fly slower?

ARTHUR: Yeah, we could just fly slower!

MARTIN: No we can’t.

DOUGLAS: Of course we can! We could come down to 100, 120 easily, as long as we watch the angle of bank.

ARTHUR: Yeah, Martin! We just need to watch the angle of . . . bank, and the polar bears! We need to watch the polar bears!

MARTIN: No, we can’t! She’ll be hard to manoeuvre, and likely to stall. It would be incredibly dangerous and unprofessional.

DOUGLAS: Fun, though – when do we leave?

CAROLYN: Straight away.

MARTIN: No!

DOUGLAS: Good!

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

CAROLYN: Oh, um, if you’re online, Douglas, look up polar bears or exploring or something.

DOUGLAS: Why?

CAROLYN: Because one of you will have to give a lecture on it. Unbeaten Track’s thing is that the crew are all experts on the region and they give lectures.

ARTHUR: Can I give a lecture on polar bears?

CAROLYN: No.

DOUGLAS: What do you know about polar bears, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Polar bears are brilliant.

DOUGLAS: You might want to pad that out with some Power Points.



DOUGLAS: Alright, Alfred Hitchcock.

MARTIN: Ooh, okay. Let’s hear it.

[bing-bong]

DOUGLAS: Hello, my name is First Officer Douglas Richardson. On behalf of the captain and myself, a warm welcome aboard this MJN flight to Qikiqtarjuaq. Just to let you know, we will be flying out from Toronto today, roughly "North by Northwest," at the "Vertigo"-inducing height of twenty thousand feet, way above "The Birds." You will already have met your purser today, Carolyn "Rebecca" "Topaz," but now, as "The Lady Vanishes" behind the "Torn Curtain" into the galley, the steward will hold you "Spellbound" with his "Notorious" demonstration of "The Thirty-Nine Steps" to a safe evacuation, though these basically boil down to three: pull the "Rope," inflate the "Lifeboat," and escape through the "Rear Window."

MARTIN: Ten?

DOUGLAS: Thirteen, I think. I very nearly got "The Man Who Knew Too Much" in, but I was after all talking about Arthur.

[door opens]

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Excuse me!

MARTIN: Oh, uh, hello. I-I-I’m the captain, Martin Crieff, and this is –

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Nancy Dean Liebhart.

DOUGLAS: Not quite, but what an interesting guess.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Expedition supervisor, Unbeaten Track Travel. What was that, please?

MARTIN: What was what?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: The Hitchcock thing.

DOUGLAS: Oh, you noticed that! Well done.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: "In an emergency, climb out through the rear window"? Does that strike you as a professional thing for the pilot of an aircraft to say?

MARTIN: No, no, absolutely not.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: "No, absolutely not" is right, so what the hell just happened?

DOUGLAS: I can assure you, madam, I am entirely professional in all –

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: No you’re not. I can tell professionalism a mile off. You don’t have it, sir. This guy has it. You don’t.

MARTIN: Oh, well. Do I? I mean, yes, yes, I do, actually. Thank you, thank you for noticing.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: So, why did you let him do it?

DOUGLAS: Yes, why did you let me do it?

MARTIN: Yes, I-I do apologize. Rest assured I will be disciplining him.

DOUGLAS: Oh, will you?

MARTIN: Yes I will, and the rest of the flight will be conducted in an entirely professional atmosphere of the utmost . . . professionality that I always bring to my, my, my –

DOUGLAS: Profession?

MARTIN: Workplace.

[door opens]

CAROLYN: Hello! Everything alright in here?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Ah, are you Carolyn Shappey-Nappy?

CAROLYN: More or less. Hello, pleased to meet you.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Nancy Dean Liebhart, expedition supervisor. I was expecting you to meet me and the travellers at the gate.

CAROLYN: Oh, yes, sorry, I was unavoidably detained in the airport, helping the steward find a book about polar bears.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: So in your absence, I had to conduct them aboard a strange aircraft – in every sense – get them seated, and then listen to your first officer squeezing Hitchcock films into the cabin address!

CAROLYN: Oh, how many did you get?

DOUGLAS: Thirteen.

CAROLYN: Well done!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: I would like a word with you in the galley, madam.

CAROLYN: With great pleasure.

DOUGLAS: Oh, before you go, how long do you want this Arctic lecture? I’ve worked up about twenty minutes’ worth – will that do?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: That won’t be necessary, thank you.

DOUGLAS: Oh, but I thought at Unbeaten Track you always –

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: At Unbeaten Track we do, because our crews are staffed by professional experts and adventurers with genuine stories to tell. What I feel I would get from you, sir, is some zany British humour, and I’ve already had about as much of that as I can take.

[door opens]

DOUGLAS: Well, she was a little ray of sunshine, wasn’t she?

MARTIN: I thought she was quite right.

DOUGLAS: Did you?

MARTIN: Yes. I’m . . . sorry to say this, Douglas, but sometimes you are unprofessional.

DOUGLAS: Shall we drop the subject?

MARTIN: No, Douglas, this is difficult f – um, because I think we’ve become friends, and, um, and I’m glad about that, but I-I do also think I have a duty to you a-as your captain –

DOUGLAS: Think very, very carefully about how you want to finish this sentence.

MARTIN: - as your captain to let you know when you’re getting into bad habits. And it was unprofessional to do the film game on real, live passengers.

DOUGLAS: You said, "Let’s hear it."

MARTIN: And what’s worse is that you were seriously considering low-altitude, low-speed manoeuvres in the Arctic! Which would be very unsafe for us!

DOUGLAS: It’ll be perfectly safe, so long as I’m the one doing it.

MARTIN: Yeah, there, you see, no, you think you’re this invincible pilot, but things go wrong for everyone! And-and if you’re not professional in your assessment –

DOUGLAS: And you’re the perfect professional, are you?

MARTIN: No, I’m not perfect, but I am professional, I analyze risk, I make sure I’m in a position to deal with whatever is thrown at me.

DOUGLAS: Of course you know what the actual definition of a professional is, don’t you?

MARTIN: I’m just –

DOUGLAS: What actually separates professionals from amateurs.

MARTIN: I w –

DOUGLAS: It’s being paid to do the job. The way Carolyn pays me and doesn’t pay you.

MARTIN: [quietly] Pre-takeoff checklist, please?

DOUGLAS: Certainly, Captain.



NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: So you understand the issue I have around this?

CAROLYN: Oh, absolutely, and I do apologize for not being there to meet you, but I assure you that, though small, MJN Air adheres to the highest standards of professionalism.

ARTHUR: Mum.

CAROLYN: Not now, I’m busy.

ARTHUR: No, but there’s a serious problem.

CAROLYN: What, really?

ARTHUR: Yes, look. This book only has a polar bear on the cover - it’s actually about all kinds of bears.

CAROLYN: Well, I rather set myself up for that, didn’t I?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; I’ve seen your website.

ARTHUR: Oh, have you? Brilliant! You see, Mum, I told you people would go!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Ohhh, you did that, did you?

ARTHUR: Thank you!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Are you a professional web designer?

ARTHUR: No, not even a bit! But there’s this website that makes it really simple, even if you’re completely clueless, you can make it play music, and the words flash, and, you know, put in things like a line of dancing aeroplanes – you know, make it look, make it look really professional.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Okaaay, Ms. Knapp-Shappey, I’m going to ask you and your crew from now on at all times to refer to this flight as being an Unbeaten Track flight, not an MJN one.

CAROLYN: Why? It is an MJN flight.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Yes, but my concern is that travellers may Google you on their return and discover, no offense, what sort of outfit you are.

CAROLYN: When you say "no offense," do you in fact know what that means?



MARTIN: [quietly] Could you balance the fuel, Douglas?

[click]

MARTIN: Have you done it?

DOUGLAS: You saw me do it.

MARTIN: It is protocol to tell me when you’ve done it.

DOUGLAS: I’ve done it.

CAROLYN: Right. If that bloody woman thinks she can tell me how to act in my own – what is the matter with you two, then?

MARTIN: Nothing.

DOUGLAS: Nothing.

CAROLYN: Well, obviously something. Ooh, hang on, I’ve just realized – I don’t care. Douglas, I have decided that on this flight, I require some mildly but not life-threatening unprofessional amusement with which to wile away the time.

MARTIN: Carolyn, no!

DOUGLAS: What a good idea!

MARTIN: Carolyn, I specifically gave Nancy my word that –

DOUGLAS: There’s always the Travelling Lemon, for instance?

CAROLYN: Oh, of course – the very thing!

MARTIN: What, what’s that?

DOUGLAS: Not come across the Travelling Lemon, Martin, in all your professional experience? Well, player one strolls through a full passenger cabin, chatting to the adoring public of this or that topic of interest, and as he goes, he casually secretes somewhere where it can still be clearly seen, a lemon or other citrus fruit, as mutually agreed by the players and referees before match play commences, but I’m a traditionalist and favour a lemon.

CAROLYN: And then, player two goes out, finds it, retrieves it, hides it again. Now what’s our record, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: I believe on that night flight to Miami, we achieved a rally of sixteen.

CAROLYN: Well, I’m sure we can top that.

DOUGLAS: Doubtless. Shall I go first?

CAROLYN: Oh, by all means.

MARTIN: No!

DOUGLAS: Back soon.

[door opens]

MARTIN: [pause] Carolyn, I’m glad I’ve got you alone.

CAROLYN: Oh, dear.

MARTIN: I want a pay rise.

CAROLYN: Martin, this is not the time or the place.

MARTIN: Yes it is. I do a difficult and demanding job, and I want a pay rise.

CAROLYN: Fine – consider your salary doubled.

MARTIN: Very funny.

CAROLYN: Do – do you see, because twice nothing is nothing.

MARTIN: Yes, I get it.

CAROLYN: I could have said triple, because three times nothing is also nothing, and so –

MARTIN: I really do understand!

CAROLYN: Do you? Good, because all this hilarious japery is a nice way of saying, "No, absolutely not."

MARTIN: That’s the nice way, is it?

CAROLYN: Ooh-hoo-hoo, you should hear the nasty way!

[door opens]

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, the lemon is in play.

CAROLYN: Super.

MARTIN: Carolyn, please, don’t let Nancy see you do this!

CAROLYN: What do you care what she sees?

MARTIN: Just . . . don’t.



ARTHUR: And this one’s a koala bear. Uh, that’s not actually a bear, in fact. This one’s a panda bear - that’s not actually a bear. Honestly, it’s like nothing’s actually a bear!

MRS COOK: I-I’m sorry, I’m confused – why are you showing me this?

ARTHUR: It’s interesting, about bears and things. Don’t worry, it’s all part of the service, it’s not extra. We’re all experts on stuff today, you see. I’m the expert on bears. And Egypt, actually. In Egypt they used to pull your brains out through your nose with a hook. And that’s not even something in this book! That’s something I know!

MRS COOK: Is . . . someone looking after you, young man?

ARTHUR: No, I’m looking after you! You are confused, aren’t you?

CAROLYN: Arthur, what are you doing?

ARTHUR: Um, teaching.

CAROLYN: Code Red, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Ooh, righto.

MRS COOK: What’s Code Red?

CAROLYN: Ohh, it’s just a code between him and I. It means "go away, go away now, go away fast." So, can I get you anything to drink?

MRS COOK: A Coke, please.

CAROLYN: Certainly. Ice and lemon? [pops can of coke, pours drink]

MRS COOK: Just ice, please.

CAROLYN: Alright. One Coke with ice.

MRS COOK: Thank you.

CAROLYN: And I’ll take that.

MRS COOK: Did you just take something out of my handbag?

CAROLYN: No, no, no, no – just from on the top of it.

MRS COOK: What? What did you take?

CAROLYN: Only this. Sorry, I thought you said you didn’t want lemon.

MRS COOK: Nooo, I don’t, but –

CAROLYN: Is it your lemon?

MRS COOK: Uh, no –

CAROLYN: Well, I’ll look after it then, thank you very much.



DOUGLAS: Right. Probably about time to give them my lecture.

MARTIN: No, you’re not doing a lecture. In fact I’m going to do all the cabin address from now on.

DOUGLAS: Oh. Alright.

[bing-bong]

DOUGLAS: Hello, ladies and gentlemen -

MARTIN: [whispering] Douglas, stop!

DOUGLAS: You want to talk to them, Little Captain Perfect? You can talk to them.

MARTIN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: Obviously, I've got my thumb on the mute button.

MARTIN: [sighs in relief] Right, then, and well, then -

DOUGLAS: Up until now. Ladies and gentlemen, it is now my pleasure to introduce you to your captain today, Captain Martin du Creff, who joins us today for his first flight, in fact, after ten years with Air France!

MARTIN: You . . . !

DOUGLAS: "Dealing with whatever's thrown at you?"

MARTIN: Although actually, I'm -

DOUGLAS: French - he's a French pilot! From France!

MARTIN: [weakly] Allo? It is . . . my pleasure to be today your pilot on this . . . journey most exciting! However, as I am not the . . . native speaker, the first officer will do most of the talking today.

DOUGLAS: Oh, well, if you insist!

MARTIN: Douglas, that was the most -

[door opening]

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: What the hell was that?

DOUGLAS: Bonjour, madame! Bienvenue dans le flight deck!

MARTIN: I'm sorry, I -

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: You I thought I could . . . not rely on, but I thought at least I could take my eye off you while I run round nursemaiding the rest of your outfit!

MARTIN: It wasn't my fault, though, Douglas -!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Yeah, the big boy made you do it, I know, I heard. I mean, I thought you could take care of him! This is it, though, okay? I'm talking to you now.

DOUGLAS: Oh, really, how lovely.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: You've had your fun. It's over.

DOUGLAS: You see, I don't know - I think there might be some mileage left in it.

MARTIN: No, don't worry, I will manage him.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: I certainly hope so!

[door opens]

MARTIN: Douglas, please, I'm asking you nicely!

DOUGLAS: You didn't tell your friend you'd ask me nicely, though, did you? You told her you'd manage me. So let's see you.

[door opens]

CAROLYN: Douglas, the lemon is with you!

DOUGLAS: Ah! Excellent!

MARTIN: No, please, Carolyn, we just had Nancy in here, she's really angry, she explicitly said -

DOUGLAS: Bye.

[door closes]

CAROLYN: Don't worry about her, Martin! She didn't book us; she's just a jumped-up rep.

MARTIN: Yes, I know, I just . . . I really want her to think of me as a professional.

CAROLYN: Why, what do you care what she thinks?

MARTIN: Well, she said I was one, and now she thinks I'm not and . . . well, I'm not, am I, because you don't pay me. You pay the others, but you don't pay me.

CAROLYN: It's not that I won't, Martin, I can't. How many times do I have to tell you? This is a loss-making company, which could fold at any moment! Anyway, I don't pay Arthur!

MARTIN: But he lives with you, so he gets all his food and lodging for free!

CAROLYN: Martin, let me nip this very much in the bud. Any suggestion of you coming to live with us -

MARTIN: Oh, god, no! No, no, no, no! What about Douglas, you pay him, don't you?

CAROLYN: Yes, yes I pay him, because I have to pay him. Because he's not like you. If I stopped paying him, he'd stop coming to work . . . in the limited sense of the word "work" that applies to Douglas.

MARTIN: You . . . could . . . cut his pay, though.

CAROLYN: You want me to cut Douglas' pay?

MARTIN: No, I-I don't want you to, I'm just saying . . . you could. Theoretically. Split it between us. It's not unreasonable; we do the same job! Well, why should he get all the pay? I mean, have you ever thought about the way I live at home?

CAROLYN: Not, I'm delighted to say, for a single second.

MARTIN: Yes, well, maybe you should. I get ten pounds an hour as a man with a van.

CAROLYN: Well, there's your problem! That's far too cheap! Last time I used one, I paid about twenty-five.

MARTIN: Yes, but my van's very old and breaks down a lot, and half the time I'm not there because I'm flying an aircraft for you! The only thing I've got going for me is that I'm cheap! So I live in a horrible attic in a shared house where I'm the only grown-up - all the other five are students at the agricultural college. I've been there nine years now - that's three generations of students! They pass me on to the next lot like a sort of friendly ghost - "Oh, are you living in Parkside Terrace next year? Well, listen, there's a pilot in the attic, but don't worry, he never bothers anyone." I can't afford to go out, to buy nice food - I live on toast and pasta - sometimes, for a treat, I have a baked potato! So just . . . so you know, I'm not asking because I'm greedy.

CAROLYN: [quietly] I will think about it.

MARTIN: Thank you.

[door opens]

DOUGLAS: Behold - the lemon. It was an easy one, Carolyn. You think a seasoned old Travelling Lemon player like me doesn't know the old "air freshener substitution" trick?

MARTIN: Right, good, you've both hidden it, you've both found it - game over, alright?

DOUGLAS: No, no - we're just starting a rally!

CAROLYN: Oh, Douglas, maybe we should -

DOUGLAS: Of course, you haven't found it yet, Martin.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: I'll do you a deal. I'll hide it for you; if you find it, you can keep it - game over.

MARTIN: And no new game?

DOUGLAS: No new game.

MARTIN: Promise you won't hide it anywhere near or on Nancy?

DOUGLAS: Damn. Alright.

MARTIN: And it'll be in plain sight?

DOUGLAS: Of course. That is the most sacred and fundamental law of the Travelling Lemon.

MARTIN: Alright.



ARTHUR: Hello. You're the woman from Unbeaten Track, aren't you?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Yes. Hello.

ARTHUR: Hello! We didn't meet properly - I'm Arthur. I'm the steward and bear expert. For instance - the sloth bear eats half its own body weight every month.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: I'm a little busy with these forms.

ARTHUR: Oh, you should do what I do - don't do them! Listen, I-I was just wondering . . . are all your experts on your crew, or do you have guest lecturers?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Yes, sometimes.

ARTHUR: Right, because I just know an awful lot about bears! At the moment. Ah, so if you ever need to borrow me, well, you'd have to sort it out with Mum, but I'm sure it'd be okay!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: [coldly] Thank you for your offer. I'll bear that in mind.

ARTHUR: Bear!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Where?

ARTHUR: No, no, you said "bear that in mind" - like a bear! Ha ha ha ha ha ha . . . oh, I might put that in my lecture.



MR. PEARY: Ah, excuse me, Captain?

MARTIN: Yes, hello?

MR. PEARY: Oh, you, you sound different in person!

MARTIN: Do I? I do not know why. Can I 'elp you?

MR. PEARY: I, uh, just wondered if everything was okay - you've been up and down the cabin three times now!

MARTIN: Ah, no, all is well. I just, uh. You haven't, by any chance, seen, uh -

MR. PEARY: Seen what?

MARTIN: A little . . . lemon?

MR. PEARY: What?

MARTIN: Nothing, it is no matter.

[door opens]

DOUGLAS: Oh, hello, captain - I'd given you up for lost. Found the lemon yet?

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Oh, dear. Then the revelry continues.

MARTIN: Look, Douglas, let's just stop fighting.

DOUGLAS: That's easy for you to say - you started it.

MARTIN: Yes, alright, and now I want to finish it.

DOUGLAS: But it hasn't occurred to you, for instance, to say "sorry."

MARTIN: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I called you unprofessional.

DOUGLAS: Thank you.

MARTIN: So we're quits?

DOUGLAS: Nearly. Maybe if -

[bing-bong]

DOUGLAS: - ladies and gentlemen, First Officer Richardson again. As you know, here at Unbeaten Track, it's our pleasure to provide you with a short talk or anecdote -

MARTIN: [whispering hoarsely] Douglas, no!

DOUGLAS: - from one of our crew with particular knowledge of the region. In this case, I'd like to invite Captain du Creff -

MARTIN: [whispering] Pleeeeeaaaaaase!

DOUGLAS: - to share with you the enthralling story of how he once encountered a polar bear in the wild and outwitted it, armed only with, if I recall correctly, an egg whisk and a pogo stick! Ladies and gentlemen, your captain!

MARTIN: [weakly] Allo. Well . . . I don't like to talk about zis -

DOUGLAS: But you've agreed to now; we're most honoured. So! When did it happen?

MARTIN: Ah . . . when I was in ze French Foreign Legion!

DOUGLAS: Ah, the regiment famous for being non-Frenchmen!

MARTIN: Yes. For me they made ze exception. Because I'm not entirely French. In fact, I'm half English - more than half, actually, so anyway, we were stationed in Alaska -

DOUGLAS: Unusual for a desert regiment!

MARTIN: Yes, it was unusual; we wanted to 'ave ze element of surprise! Anyway, I saw a polar bear so I called out to my comrades -

DOUGLAS: What did you call out?

MARTIN: "Look out - a polar bear!"

DOUGLAS: Only you said it in French.

MARTIN: [rapidly] Of course I said it in French then! I did not say it in French now, because . . . no one would understand me.

DOUGLAS: But, just out of interest - what is "polar bear" in French?

MARTIN: It is, in fact, the same as in English.

DOUGLAS: Really! "Polar bear"?

MARTIN: Yes, it is a word we have borrowed from your language. Only, of course, we say "bear polar."

DOUGLAS: I see. So you saw the polar bear, you called out, "Attention, mes amis, regardez-vous le bear polar!" And then what?

MARTIN: [hurrying to finish] And zen I put the egg whisk into the snowdrift, whisked it up like a blizzard in the bear's face, then under the cover of his confusion, I bounced away on the pogo stick. Thank you, goodbye!

DOUGLAS: Goodness, what a remarkable story! Just goes to show, ladies and gentlemen, truth is stranger than fiction!

MARTIN: [sighing unhappily] Thanks, thanks a lot. You had to do that, didn't you? I just wanted one person, one stranger, to take me seriously as a professional pilot, but you couldn't even allow that - you had to humiliate me! Even after I'd said sorry, and now I don't know why I did.

DOUGLAS: If it helps, the cabin address wasn't on for any of that.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: No one heard it but you and me.

MARTIN: You weren't pressing the mute button, and the red light was on!

DOUGLAS: True, but while you were out playing hunt-the-lemon, I switched the LED round. Now the red light comes on when the PA is off.

MARTIN: But . . . that would mean it's on now.

DOUGLAS: It is. But now I have got my thumb on the mute button.

MARTIN: You absolute -

[door opens]

ARTHUR: BEARS!

[MARTIN yelps.]

DOUGLAS: What?

ARTHUR: BEARS BEARS BEARS POLAR BEARS! Look, on the ground!

DOUGLAS: Of all places! Excellent! Alright, bears, let's see what you've got!

MARTIN: Douglas, I don't think - Douglas! We don't have the altitude!

DOUGLAS: Oh, we've got plenty of altitude!

MARTIN: We don't - we're at treetop level already!

DOUGLAS: Ah, but you're forgetting - no trees in the Arctic! That gives us at least another thirty foot!

MARTIN: NO, IT DOESN'T -

DOUGLAS: Oh, you think you can get away that way, do you, Paddington?

MARTIN: NOOO! DOUGLAS, YOU'LL STALL IT!

DOUGLAS: No, I won't, just sit back and enjoy the ride!

MARTIN: I CAN'T ENJOY IT IF YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!

DOUGLAS: Don't exaggerate! A-ha!

MARTIN: AHHHHHH!

DOUGLAS: Let's be having you then, Winnie!

MARTIN: DOUGLAS, I HAVE CONTROL!

DOUGLAS: No, you don't! Ooh, Baloo, at ten o'clock! Daka-daka-daka-daka-daka-daka-daka-daka!

MARTIN: DOUGLAS, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP! You're going to kill us all! Please! You'll kill us all!

DOUGLAS: Oh, fine.

[Martin pants in relief]

DOUGLAS: Honestly, what a fuss!

[door opens]

CAROLYN: Gentlemen.

DOUGLAS: There you go - we gave them a bit of a show, didn't we?

CAROLYN: Oh, yes.

DOUGLAS: Sorry I had to stop, but they must have got a pretty good eyeful of the bears, didn't they?

CAROLYN: They mainly weren't looking at the bears.

DOUGLAS: Why ever not?

CAROLYN: Because they were mainly frozen in terror! Because for some reason, as soon as you started chasing the bears, the cabin address came on!

DOUGLAS: Oh dear. Now that, I admit, was a bit unprofessional.



CAROLYN: Goodbye! Goodbye! Thank you for flying with Unbeaten Track!

ARTHUR: Goodbye - a female bear is called a sow.

CAROLYN: Goodbye madam, thank you for flying Unbeaten Track.

ARTHUR: Goodbye - a grizzly bear can strip a deer's carcass in six minutes.

MRS. COOK: I beg your pardon!

CAROLYN: Farewell bear facts, madam. Courtesy of Unbeaten Track!

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Excuse me! Let me through! I need you to stop saying that! It was MJN Air, madam, remember - any complaints or lawsuits you may have, direct them to MJN Air.

MARTIN: Ah, excuse me, Nancy?

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: I've nothing to say to you, Captain.

MARTIN: Well, I've something to say to you. I know I haven't come across as completely . . . professional, this trip -

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Ha!

MARTIN: - but as it happens, I am professional! I am the most professional pilot I know; it's just . . . well, it happens that I fly with a crew who . . . well, I'm not blaming them, it's just - [passionately] they never behave like the crews in the manuals! They don't even behave like the crews in the manuals who are the examples of crews behaving badly; they do things no manual's ever thought of! Anyway, I just wanted to say - I am paid to fly aeroplanes, I do it proudly, and I take it seriously. I am absolutely a professional, and I don't need you to tell me so.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Well. That's a very lovely speech. Very moving.

MARTIN: Hmm. Thank you.

NANCY DEAN LIEBHART: Do you know what would have made it even better? If you'd given it without a lemon taped to the top of your hat.

END CREDITS (which Benedict Cumberbatch, being a nutjob, does in Martin's endearingly atrocious French accent).
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:46 am

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ARTHUR (singing to the tune of Happy Birthday to You): Happy Birling Day to us! Happy Birling Day to us! (He strains to reach the high note on the next line.) Happy Birling Day, dear Martin and Douglas and Arrrrr-thur ...
MARTIN: All right, Arthur, that’ll do!
ARTHUR (finishing off the song rapidly): Happy Birling Day to us!
MARTIN: Arthur!
ARTHUR: Sorry! I just love Birling Day, don’t you?
MARTIN: No, I don’t. I didn’t become a pilot so that I could bow and scrape to some horrible dotty old man just because he gives massive tips.
DOUGLAS: Well don’t do it, then.
MARTIN: Yes – unfortunately I also didn’t become a pilot who earns enough to afford not to.
(Carolyn comes in.)
CAROLYN: Ah, Douglas. Nice and early for Birling Day, I see.
DOUGLAS: Ah, Carolyn. Likewise.
CAROLYN: You are not going to win this time, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: An interesting theory. Let me propose an alternative one: I am going to win this time.
CAROLYN: Ah, but ...
DOUGLAS: And this is a theory I have built up from the following postulates: one – I win every time; two – this is a time; three – I will win this time.
ARTHUR: Ooh, is this about the whisky?
CAROLYN: Yes, Arthur, this is about this two hundred pound bottle of twenty-five years old single malt Talisker whisky which I am providing at the request of and for the sole benefit of Mr Birling – and of which Douglas here is not going to get so much as a single solitary sip.
DOUGLAS: Well, that’s true. I’m not going to drink it – I’m going to sell it.
CAROLYN: You are not going to do anything with it, Raffles, and I’ll tell you why not: this Birling Day, the whisky is going to be under constant and vigilant watch.
DOUGLAS: Oh, are you coming with us for once? That, I admit, does make it a little more interesting.
CAROLYN: No, I’m not. I do not trust myself to spend any more than twenty minutes with Mr Birling without thumping him in the cravat. No, I am referring to my newly-appointed eyes and ears in the air, Detective Inspector Martin Crieff.
DOUGLAS: Oh, really?!
MARTIN: Yes. Sorry, Douglas, but she offered me a hundred pounds if I stop you from stealing it.
DOUGLAS: And let me guess: If I do steal it, you pay her?
MARTIN: ... Yes.
DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin, you didn’t fall for that, did you? Can’t you see she’s just trying to sell her debt on? She knows I’ll steal it because I always do. She just wants to recoup some of her loss off you.
MARTIN: Yes, but what if I stop you stealing it?
DOUGLAS: Yes. That would certainly work out very well for you. There are just two small but – I fear – insurmountable problems with the scheme: I am me; and you are you. And I can outwit you with my wits tied behind my back.
MARTIN: Oh, is that so?
DOUGLAS: It is so.
MARTIN: Well I’m not so sure.
DOUGLAS: I am so sure.
MARTIN: Stop doing that!
DOUGLAS: But I will steal it, and when I do and you come to me moaning about how you have to pay Carolyn a hundred pounds and you can’t afford it, my reply will rhyme with, “I bold you go.”
MR BIRLING (from outside): Well? Do I have to open the door for myself?
CAROLYN (opening the door): Mr Birling. I do apologise. We didn’t hear you knock.
MR BIRLING: Didn’t knock. Shouted. Hello.
MARTIN (grovelling): Mr Birling. How nice to see you.
DOUGLAS: Welcome back, sir.
MR BIRLING: Ah, my dear boys, there you are. Ready once more to help me slip the surly bounds of Earth, put out my hand and punch the face of God?
DOUGLAS: I think it’s “touch the face of God.”
MR BIRLING: No, no, I didn’t like the sound of that at all. Icky.
CAROLYN: Well, I don’t suppose God would be overjoyed at the prospect, either.
MR BIRLING: Oh, are you still here? I didn’t see you last time. I thought perhaps you’d died.
CAROLYN: No. I am still here.
MR BIRLING: Fancy that.
(Mrs Birling comes into the office.)
MRS BIRLING: Birling! You can’t just park with my door jammed against a wall and leave me there!
MR BIRLING: Can. Did. Elizabeth, these are the joke pilots I was telling you about. Captain, First Mate, Cabin Boy.
MARTIN (laughing awkwardly): Um, actually I’m the captain.
MR BIRLING: He always says that. I don’t know why. Pilots, this is Elizabeth, my awful wife. She’s come to see me off.
MARTIN: Oh, hello. Um, I’m sure she’s not awful.
MR BIRLING: Well, I’ll tell you what, my dear boy: you marry her for thirty years and then we’ll compare notes.
MRS BIRLING: Hello, yes. Nice to meet you and so forth etcetera. Anyway, here’s fifty pounds each.
DOUGLAS: Oh, thank you! I must say, the early evidence is weighing heavily in favour of your not being awful.
MRS BIRLING: Those are your tips. You’re having them now, and that’s all you’re getting. Mr Birling and I have talked about those extravagant tips he used to give and we’ve mutually decided they should stop, haven’t we, Birling?
MR BIRLING: No.
MRS BIRLING: Do you want to see your stupid rugby in stupid Paris?
MR BIRLING: Rugby isn’t stupid. Paris, I grant you, is moronic.
MRS BIRLING: What have we decided, then?
MR BIRLING (sulkily): No tips.
MRS BIRLING: That’s right.
MR BIRLING: She’s an awful woman, she really is. I hate her more than I can say.
MRS BIRLING: Right, off you go, then, Birling, and have a mildly pleasant time. Any more than that and you’re in trouble.
MR BIRLING: Goodbye, dear. Take care while I’m gone. Don’t jump into any mineshafts.

********

ARTHUR: This way, Mr Birling.
MR BIRLING: What, into the aeroplane through the door of the aeroplane? You astonish me.
ARTHUR: Ask me another one!
MR BIRLING: Who won the Triple Crown in ’77?
ARTHUR: Ah, trick question. I don’t know.
CAROLYN: Umm, drivers? Before you get on board, if you’d care to step this way.
DOUGLAS: Yes, Carolyn?
CAROLYN: Phil from the fire crew is standing by for the traditional Birling Day frisking of the first officer.
PHIL (patting Douglas down): Sorry, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Is this really necessary, Carolyn, now you have Crieff of the Yard dogging my every move?
CAROLYN: No sense in taking chances. All right, Phil, what have we got?
PHIL: Er, on his person, nothing. In his flight bag, one large plastic bottle of apple juice.
CAROLYN: Oh, Douglas. Is this the best you can do?
DOUGLAS: What? I like apple juice.
CAROLYN: Well, you’re going to have to do without it this time. Phil, throw it away.
(Phil tosses the bottle in the bin.)
DOUGLAS: I need that!
CAROLYN: Anything else, Phil?
PHIL (opening zipped pockets in the bag): Um, one small bottle of nail varnish.
CAROLYN: What, again? Ah, that’s sweet. Did you really think I’d let you pull the same trick twice? You see, Douglas likes to use a dab of nail varnish to re-seal the caps of the bottles he’s tampered with. Well, much good it may do you, Douglas, because this time there is just one bottle and I am opening it now.
(There’s the ‘crack’ of the bottle lid being opened and then unscrewed.)
CAROLYN: Now, let’s see.
(She takes a sip.)
CAROLYN: Ooh. Mmmm! That is good stuff! Thank you, Phil. Dismissed. Oh, Martin: I am now placing the whisky in your hands – both literally and metaphorically. Stop Douglas getting hold of it for the next six hours and you’ve won a hundred quid.
MARTIN: All right. Douglas, don’t come anywhere near me. Get into the plane and go into the flight deck.
DOUGLAS: You really don’t have to hug the bottle like that, Martin.
MARTIN: Just do it, please.
DOUGLAS: All right. Goodbye, Carolyn.
CAROLYN: Goodbye, Douglas. Good luck, Martin – and may God have mercy on your soul.

********

MARTIN: All right. Now, into the flight deck.
DOUGLAS: I’m going, I’m going.
MARTIN: Close the door.
(Flight deck door closes.)
MARTIN: Good. Arthur!
ARTHUR: Hello, Skip!
MARTIN: Here is Mr Birling’s special whisky. Now, I am not going to let Douglas out of the flight deck between now and Paris but, if he should escape somehow, he is not allowed to touch, hold, borrow, taste, look at or-or do anything at all with this whisky, have you got that?
ARTHUR: Got it.
MARTIN: So, what isn’t Douglas allowed to go near?
ARTHUR: The whisky.
MARTIN: Who isn’t allowed to go near the whisky?
ARTHUR: Douglas.
MARTIN: What isn’t Douglas allowed to do to the whisky?
ARTHUR: Anything.
MARTIN: You really have got it!
ARTHUR: I’ve got it! I’m not stupid!
MARTIN: Who isn’t allowed to do what to what?
ARTHUR: I’m not allowed to drive Mum’s car.
MARTIN: What?!
ARTHUR: Sorry, Skip, that’s an earlier one. Um, Douglas isn’t allowed to go near the whisky.
MARTIN: Good. Here it is.

********

DOUGLAS: Post take-off checks complete.
MARTIN: Thank you.
DOUGLAS: So. You’ve left the whisky with Arthur, have you?
MARTIN: None of your business.
DOUGLAS: Bit risky, isn’t it? I’ve have thought you’d have wanted to hang on to it yourself.
MARTIN: No, actually. If it was here, you could manufacture some emergency to distract me while you swiped it and I’d have to deal with it, but whatever happens, I can make absolutely certain you don’t leave the flight deck ’til we land again.
DOUGLAS: Mmm! Well played!
MARTIN: Thank you.
DOUGLAS: Well, I’m just going to the loo.
MARTIN: Oh no you’re not!
DOUGLAS: I rather think I am.
MARTIN: No! I forbid it!
DOUGLAS: You forbid it?
MARTIN: Yes.
DOUGLAS: Sorry, er, just to be clear: you are forbidding me from using the toilet, Captain?
MARTIN: You don’t need to go!
DOUGLAS: I do!
MARTIN: Well, you’ll just have to hold it in for an hour, won’t you?
DOUGLAS: Can’t do that. Terribly bad for you.
MARTIN: Right, fine. (Into intercom) Arthur, could you bring the Talisker to the flight deck, please?
ARTHUR (over intercom): OK!
MARTIN: Douglas, put your hands on your head.
DOUGLAS: Put my what on my what?!
MARTIN: Oh, you heard me!
DOUGLAS: I’m not putting my hands on my head!
MARTIN: You put your hands on your head or you don’t go to the loo.
DOUGLAS: Fine.
(Flight deck door opens.)
ARTHUR: All right, Skip, I ...
MARTIN (panic-stricken): Arthur, give it to me, give it to me! Don’t get near Douglas with it! Give it to me! Give it straight to me! Thank you.
ARTHUR: You all right, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Fine, thank you.
ARTHUR: Only you look like you’ve got a headache, or you’ve just discovered you’ve lost your hat.
MARTIN: Douglas, you may go to the loo.
DOUGLAS: I don’t need to go any more.
MARTIN: Oh, what a surprise(!) Go anyway. I don’t want you pulling this again in ten minutes.
DOUGLAS: Your wish is my command.
(Flight deck door closes.)
ARTHUR: I think you’re doing this brilliantly, Skip.
MARTIN: Thank you.
ARTHUR: I don’t know how he’s gonna steal it this time.
MARTIN: He’s not going to steal it this time.
ARTHUR: No, no, probably not. Although he is really sneaky.
MARTIN: I don’t care how sneaky he is, Arthur. If I simply never let him touch the bottle, he can’t steal it.
(The intercom beeps.)
MR BIRLING (over intercom): Hello? How does this thing work?
MARTIN: Oh! (He laughs falsely.) Mr Birling! Are you all right?
MR BIRLING: No. I’ve been dinging on my Summon-an-Idiot bell for ages. And yet have I an idiot to show for my trouble? I have not!
ARTHUR: Just coming, Mr B.!
MR BIRLING: Good. And bring me my whisky.
ARTHUR: Right-o!
(Intercom switches off again.)
ARTHUR: OK, Skip, if I could have ...
MARTIN: Arthur, what were we just saying?
ARTHUR: Oh, loads of stuff.
MARTIN: I’m not letting go of this bottle until Douglas is sitting back in his chair.
ARTHUR: OK.
(The sat-com bleeps.)
MARTIN: Hello? MJN Air.
CAROLYN (over sat-com): Has he got it yet?
MARTIN: No, he hasn’t, and I resent the “yet”. He’s not gonna get it at all.
CAROLYN: Have you got it yet, Douglas?
MARTIN: He’s not in the flight deck at the moment.
CAROLYN: Oh, fair enough. He’s a busy man. He’ll be stealing the whisky.
MARTIN: No, actually, the whisky is with me. I can do this, Carolyn. I am capable of ...
(The flight deck opens.)
MARTIN: ... Ah. Er, bye, Carolyn.
(He switches off the sat-com.)
MARTIN: Hands on your head. Hands on your head!
DOUGLAS: Martin, please ...
MARTIN (hysterically): Hands on your head! (More calmly) Thank you. Now, sit down, back down, slowly. Good, thank you. Arthur, here is the whisky. You may now go and serve Mr Birling.
ARTHUR: Thanks, Skip!
(The flight deck door closes.)
DOUGLAS: Are you really going to keep this up for the whole trip?
MARTIN: Yes, I am. And when – by the end of it – you haven’t managed to steal, I’m going to say something that rhymes with “You ... bidn’t ... gell ... nee ... cat ... er ...”
DOUGLAS: Are you all right?
MARTIN: “You didn’t tell me that, did you?” Oh, it worked in my head!

********

(Mr Birling is alternately ringing the service bell and calling out.)
MR BIRLING: (Ding) Ding! (Ding) Ding! (Ding) Ding! (Ding) Ding!
ARTHUR: Hello, Mr B.
MR BIRLING: A-ha! Where have you been? I’ve been both ringing my bell and shouting the word “Ding” since approximately the late Middle Ages.
ARTHUR: Sorry. Skip was just ...
MR BIRLING: I don’t wanna hear your “Sorry Skip was justs”. Now, pour me my Talisker.
ARTHUR (pouring a glassful): Here you are.
MR BIRLING: Uh. At last.
(He takes a gulp, then chokes.)
MR BIRLING: That’s not Talisker! That’s horrible!
ARTHUR: Wow!
MR BIRLING: What do you mean, “Wow”?
ARTHUR: Nothing. It’s just ... I think the first officer might be magic!

********

MARTIN (bursting into the flight deck): Right! How did you do it?
DOUGLAS: Everything tickety-boo, Martin?
MARTIN: How did you do it? How could you possibly have done it?
DOUGLAS: Done what?
MARTIN: Stolen Mr Birling’s whisky – how?
DOUGLAS: What are you talking about? I haven’t.
MARTIN: Oh, don’t give me that! OK, you won! I’ll have to pay Carolyn. Now just tell me: how did you do it?
DOUGLAS (sounding genuinely surprised): Are you telling me the whisky’s gone?
MARTIN: Yes, it’s gone! Because you took it! But how?
DOUGLAS: I didn’t.
MARTIN: Well, of course you did! You’ve been saying you’re gonna take it all flight!
DOUGLAS: Yes, and so I am, but I haven’t yet. I haven’t had a chance.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Just tell me what happened.
MARTIN: Mr Birling asked for his whisky; Arthur poured it out; it wasn’t Talisker.
DOUGLAS: It was apple juice?
MARTIN: No, it was cheap horrible whisky.
DOUGLAS: Right. Because when I do it, it’ll be apple juice.
MARTIN: Philip took away your apple juice.
DOUGLAS: My decoy apple juice, certainly.
MARTIN: A-a-a-a-are you seriously saying it wasn’t you?
DOUGLAS: Hand on heart, it absolutely wasn’t ... Oh, hang on. Very clever.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: No, really, I’m very impressed. Carolyn’s idea, I take it – or did you actually come up with it yourself?
MARTIN: What are you talking about?
DOUGLAS: You’ve quite obviously taken it and hidden it so I can’t steal it and you can return it to Carolyn.
MARTIN: I ... of course I didn’t take it! You took it!
DOUGLAS: No I didn’t. You took it.
MARTIN: No, you took it!
(The sat-com bleeps.)
MARTIN: Oh God.
(The sat-com bleeps again.)
MARTIN (clearing his throat as he answers): Hello, Carolyn.
CAROLYN: So. Has he taken it yet?
MARTIN: I ... don’t ... know.
CAROLYN: You don’t know? How can you not know? Apply this simple test: do you have with you (a) a bottle of fine whisky, or (b) a first officer with a grin like a cat who’s learned to use a tin opener?
MARTIN: I meant no, he-he-he hasn’t stolen it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.
CAROLYN: Oh Lord. He’s stolen it. How could you let this happen, Martin? I give you one simple job ...
MARTIN (hurriedly): Sorry, Carolyn, got to go, we’re just flying over a ... a mountain.
CAROLYN: In the English Channel?
MARTIN: Bye!
(He turns the sat-com off.)
MARTIN (panic-stricken): All right, I can sort this out, I can sort this out.
(He turns the intercom on, taking in a deep breath as he does.)
MARTIN (into intercom): ARTHUR! Could you come in here, please?
ARTHUR (over intercom): Right-o!
DOUGLAS: Ah, calling in the finest brains to work on the problem.
MARTIN: A plane is a sealed unit. It must be on here somewhere. I just need to think – I just need to think.
(The flight deck door opens.)
ARTHUR: Hi, chaps.
MARTIN: Arthur, describe to me exactly what happened when you left the flight deck.
ARTHUR: OK. Wow, this is brilliant.
MARTIN: It’s not brilliant!
ARTHUR: It’s a bit brilliant. Can I tell you in my own words?
DOUGLAS: Who else’s words had you planned to use? Winston Churchill’s?
ARTHUR: No, but they always say, “Tell us in your own words the events of the night in question.”
MARTIN: Just tell us!
ARTHUR: All right. In my own words, I came into the galley with the bottle you gave me.
MARTIN: Yes.
ARTHUR: I got a glass, and I went in to Mr Birling ...
MARTIN: Yes.
ARTHUR: He had a bit of a shout; I had a bit of a listen ...
MARTIN (impatiently): Yes.
ARTHUR: I poured him a glass of whisky; he tasted it, said it was horrible. I called for you; you came; you did that funny thing with your throat ...
DOUGLAS: What funny thing?
ARTHUR: Oh, you know, the sort of (he makes a high-pitched panicked whining sound).
MARTIN: All right, that’ll do! Thank you, Arthur.
DOUGLAS: Has that revealed the vital clue, Inspector?
MARTIN: Shush, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Just trying to help.
MARTIN: You can’t help. You’re the suspect – and also the person who did it!
DOUGLAS: I really didn’t, Martin. You made it impossible. And if I had, don’t you think I’d be gloating by now?
MARTIN: Well ... yes. But who else could it be?
DOUGLAS: Well, if you’re sure it wasn’t you, then I suppose there’s only one person it could be.
MARTIN: Well ... but why would Mr Birling steal his own whisky?
DOUGLAS: I couldn’t say, Martin. Perhaps you should investigate.
ARTHUR: Ooh! Can I come too?
MARTIN: No.
ARTHUR: I won’t say anything. I’ll just be really excited!

********

MARTIN: Mr Birling.
MR BIRLING: Ah. Have you found it?
MARTIN: Not just yet.
MR BIRLING: Well, then, find it. Has it occurred to you that Douglas might have taken it? He steals things, doesn’t he, and I don’t like his face. Mind you, I don’t like your face. Worst thing about MJN: very ugly pilots.
MARTIN: Mr Birling, um, I just have a few questions for you. Quite routine. Nothing to worry about.
MR BIRLING: Why would I be worried?
MARTIN: No reason. You shouldn’t be. (He laughs falsely.)
MR BIRLING: I’m not worried – I’m furious. Is that what you meant? “Nothing to be furious about”? Because if so, you couldn’t be more wrong. And what do you mean, “quite routine”? How many mid-air whisky thefts do you deal with?
ARTHUR: About one a year.
MARTIN: Shut up, Arthur! Mr Birling, please tell me exactly what happened.
ARTHUR: In my own words.
MARTIN: In his own words ... in your own words.
MR BIRLING: I dinged my bell for about a week, then idiot-features here poured me my special whisky, then I tasted it and it was foul, and then I was furious, and now I still am.
MARTIN: I see. Now, um, j-j-just for the sake of argument, um, if you had stolen the whisky yourself ...
MR BIRLING (angrily): Me?! Are you a total imbecile? It’s my whisky! I don’t have to steal it – it’s mine! If I stole it, it wouldn’t be stealing, it would be having! And if I had it, I would have it!

********

(The flight deck door opens.)
DOUGLAS: Any progress?
MARTIN: I don’t think he has it.
DOUGLAS: How can you tell?
MARTIN: Pretty certain. But, um, it’s just impossible. He didn’t take it; I didn’t take it; you couldn’t have taken it, and there’s no-one else except Arthur, so how ... Oh!
DOUGLAS: You’re not thinking ...
MARTIN: Well, I know it seems crazy, but ...
DOUGLAS: Arthur?!
MARTIN: I know! But the thing is, we’ve taken away all the things that can possibly have happened, so I suppose the only thing that’s left, even though it seems really weird, must be the thing that did happen, in fact.
DOUGLAS: Snappily put.

********

(The galley curtain rattles.)
MARTIN: Arthur.
ARTHUR: Ooh, hello, Skip! I’ve got a theory! Now, suppose there was a travelling circus going by the airport, and one of the monkeys ...
MARTIN: Let me stop you there, Arthur.
ARTHUR: Yes?
MARTIN: I’m not angry.
ARTHUR: Oh, good. Nor am I.
MARTIN: Good. Um, but I-I-I think you should tell me what happened when you spilled Mr Birling’s Talisker.
ARTHUR: What?
MARTIN: That is what happened, isn’t it? When I left you to go to the flight deck, I’d taken care to impress you with how very valuable and important the whisky was, so when you dropped it and the bottle unsealed by Carolyn spilled everywhere, you panicked, and in horror you tried to cover up the accident by refilling it with cheap and nasty whisky from the drinks cupboard – didn’t you?
ARTHUR: Skip, you’re absolutely ... brilliant.
MARTIN: Huh!
ARTHUR: How did you work it all out? You’re like ... Miss Marple!
MARTIN: So that is what happened?
ARTHUR: No! But it’s a brilliant solution!
MARTIN: What? You-you didn’t spill it?
ARTHUR: No. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, terrapins tickle me if I lie.
MARTIN: Well, someone did, Arthur, and if it wasn’t me or Douglas or Mr Birling or you, then who was it?
ARTHUR: Well, this is where the monkey comes in. You see, the clowns like to get it drunk on whisky for fun ...
MARTIN: No, it wasn’t a monkey, Arthur!
ARTHUR: Well, you have your theories; I have mine.
MARTIN: There’s Phil from the fire crew, I suppose, but he never touched the whisky, only the apple juice he took off ... Oh!
ARTHUR: What?
MARTIN: Well, of course! Now I see exactly how he did it!
ARTHUR: Do you? Brilliant! This is what always happens to Miss Marple as well! Was it the very last person we would suspect?
MARTIN: No, it was Douglas.
ARTHUR: Oh. He’s the very first person we would suspect.
MARTIN: Yes! And he did it, even though it looks impossible.
ARTHUR: OK. I’m just saying – he’s not who Miss Marple would have picked.
MARTIN: Well I’m not Miss Marple!
ARTHUR: No.

********

(The flight deck door opens.)
MARTIN: Ah. Hello, Douglas.
ARTHUR: Yes. Hello, Douglas.
DOUGLAS: Hello. How goes the crime fighting?
ARTHUR: Douglas, you may be wondering why we’ve asked you all to gather together.
DOUGLAS: I wasn’t aware you had asked me all to gather together.
MARTIN: Thank you, Arthur. Leave it to me. Douglas, I know what happened.
DOUGLAS: Oh. Sorry, Arthur, I did try and put him on the wrong trail with Mr Birling, but I suppose he was always gonna work it out eventually.
MARTIN: Work what out?
DOUGLAS: Well, I assume Arthur accidentally spilled the whisky and refilled it with cheap stuff, hoping no-one would notice.
MARTIN: No, actually, I thought of that, and he didn’t.
DOUGLAS: How d’you know?
MARTIN: He says he didn’t.
DOUGLAS: Oh, right.
MARTIN: And he’s Arthur. He can’t tell lies. His face goes a funny colour and if he’s not sitting down, he falls over.
ARTHUR: And sometimes even if I am sitting down.
DOUGLAS: Well, that is true.
MARTIN: Also, I know it wasn’t him because it was you. And I know exactly how you did it.
DOUGLAS: Well, you don’t, because I didn’t.
MARTIN: I do, because you did. It was the apple juice! You know you’re always searched on Birling Day. Why would you bring a bottle of apple juice in your flight bag unless having it taken away was exactly what you wanted because it wasn’t apple juice at all – it was the stolen Talisker! It was never taken off the plane because it was never on it! Before I even saw it, you’d got at the bottle, filled it with cheap whisky, re-sealed it with that nail varnish, put the real whisky in the plastic bottle so that Phil – who must be in on it with you – could claim it was apple juice and take it off you to return it to you later!
(Douglas applauds sarcastically.)
DOUGLAS: Very clever, Martin. Very clever indeed. I see I under-estimated you.
ARTHUR: And me.
DOUGLAS: No, not you.
MARTIN: So you admit it, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Uh, no, because you’ve forgotten Carolyn tasted the whisky just before she gave it to you and said it was definitely Talisker. Sorry.
MARTIN: Oh. Yes.
DOUGLAS: So I’d have to have been in league with Carolyn, not Phil, but what would either of us have to gain from ... Ah-ha!
MARTIN: What? What?
DOUGLAS: Of course!
ARTHUR: Oh, wow! Now Douglas is like Miss Marple!
MARTIN: No, I’m Miss Marple!
DOUGLAS: Martin, it wasn’t me, or you, or Arthur, or Mr Birling who stole Carolyn’s whisky. It was Carolyn!
MARTIN: What?
ARTHUR: Douglas is definitely Miss Marple. That’s who Miss Marple would have picked.
DOUGLAS: Or rather, she didn’t, because there was never any whisky to steal. Look: Carolyn knows that every year I steal the whisky. Suddenly, she realises: if Mr Birling’s not going to get the whisky, why bother providing it? If she simply refills an old Talisker bottle with cheap whisky and then re-seals it with the nail varnish trick I taught her, she can open it in front of us, tell us it’s the real thing and then, when Mr Birling finds out it’s not, everyone will blame me and she’ll save herself two hundred pounds.
MARTIN: Oh!
DOUGLAS: And then, she thinks, why not actually make some money into the bargain? If she can convince you to accept the deal, then, whether I steal it or not, she can sting you for a hundred quid.
MARTIN: No! She wouldn’t do that!
DOUGLAS: I’m afraid so. You’re the mark, Martin; the cat’s-paw, the schmuck, the fall guy. You’ve been played like a cheap pianola.
MARTIN: I don’t believe it! What can I do?
DOUGLAS: Ain’t nothin’ you can do – that’s Chinatown.
MARTIN: Right, give me the sat-com.
DOUGLAS: What for?
MARTIN: I’m gonna tell her exactly what I think of her.
DOUGLAS: Yes, you could do – or ...
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: Well, it’s just occurred to me: maybe there is something you can do. Maybe this isn’t Chinatown.
ARTHUR: You see, I didn’t think it was when you said that.
MARTIN: What do you mean?
DOUGLAS: Well, if you accuse her, she’ll just deny all knowledge of it and – her being her – you’ll end up having to pay. But if you tell her that Mr Birling enjoyed his Talisker very much and finished it all up, she’ll know you’re lying but she can’t say so without giving the game away.
MARTIN: Yes! Thank you, Douglas! That’s perfect!
(He activates the sat-com.)
CAROLYN: Hello? MJN.
MARTIN (smarmily): Hello, Carolyn, Martin here.
CAROLYN: Ah, over the mountain now? Good. So, he nicked it, did he?
MARTIN: No, no, he didn’t.
CAROLYN: I bet he did.
MARTIN: By no means. I’ve just been in to see Mr Birling. He says to tell you how particularly nice the whisky is this year.
CAROLYN: Well! that’s interesting.
MARTIN: Are you surprised for some reason?
CAROLYN: I’m certainly surprised he got it.
MARTIN: Are you?
CAROLYN: And that Douglas didn’t.
MARTIN: No-no, Douglas definitely didn’t, did you, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: Alas, no. You were too clever for me, Carolyn. Rats.
CAROLYN: Well! Well done, then, Martin. You’ve earned your reward. Clever old you.
MARTIN: Thank you!
(He deactivates the sat-com.)
DOUGLAS: Well played, Martin.
MARTIN: Thank you. And thank you for helping me out.
DOUGLAS: Oh, it was nothing.
(The flight deck door opens.)
MR BIRLING: Ah, hello. I’ve remembered my cufflinks.
MARTIN: Mr Birling, you’re not really supposed to come up here.
MR BIRLING: Well, this is where you are and I need to speak to you – regarding my cufflinks.
DOUGLAS: What about your cufflinks?
MR BIRLING: I’ve just remembered them. Pearls, dear boy – two beautiful pearls. A present from my awful wife before she was awful.
DOUGLAS: Oh!
MR BIRLING: Yes. You see, she took away my money, she took away my cards, but she didn’t take away my lovely pearl cufflinks.
MARTIN: Well, maybe she just assumed you’d never part with them.
MR BIRLING: Then more fool her, because that’s just what I’m going to do. They’re worth a grand each, boys, easily, and I’ll give you one apiece if you should happen to discover that you do, after all, have a bottle of Talisker which can come and watch the rugby with me for a bit until one of us ends up drunk ... by the other.
MARTIN: I’m sorry, Mr Birling, but we really honestly don’t ...
MR BIRLING: I’m talking to the organ grinder, not the monkey.
MARTIN: I’m the organ grinder.
DOUGLAS: Are you sure, Martin? The monkey tends to have the better hat.
MARTIN: I am the organ grinder! And I have to tell you, Mr Birling, that there is no Talisker. We’ve all been the victims of a clever plot by Carolyn. Let me tell you the whole story. Carolyn knew that every year ...
DOUGLAS (interrupting): Er, Martin, sorry to interrupt, but, um ... here you are, Mr Birling.
(Sound of a large bottle of alcohol being handed over.)
MARTIN: What?!
MR BIRLING: A-ha! I thought as much!
(He takes a swig.)
MR BIRLING: Mmm! Yes! Mmm! That’s the stuff! Here you are, you grubby little thief. Here you are, you clueless patsy. A pearl apiece. See you in two hours, full of rugby, song, and fine whisky.
(The flight deck door closes.)
MARTIN (faint, breathless): You ... you stole ... the whisky.
DOUGLAS (mildly): Of course I did. I did tell you I would.
MARTIN: You were in on it with Carolyn?
DOUGLAS: No! She had nothing to do with it. It was Talisker when she tasted it. I just fed you that story to make you tell her I didn’t steal it, but I did.
MARTIN: How?!
DOUGLAS: With this.
MARTIN: The bottle of nail varnish?!
DOUGLAS: Ah, but it’s not nail varnish. It just comes in a similar bottle which I’ve re-labelled. What it is is a harmless but unpleasantly bitter-tasting clear substance you can buy from any chemist to put on your nails to stop you biting them. Of course, if you don’t suffer that particular vice, there are other things you can do with it. For instance, when you go through the galley on the way to the loo, you can put a tiny drop on the bottom of each of the whisky glasses – just enough that any liquid poured into them becomes unpleasant tasting. Then, once Mr Birling has rejected his glass of genuine Talisker as horrible and the bottle is written off as full of cheap whisky and forgotten about, you can snaffle it at your leisure.
MARTIN (groaning): Oh, no. Uh, well done. Very clever. Just a shame it’s gonna cost me a hundred quid, that’s all.
DOUGLAS: Sorry, Martin. I hate to say, “I fold you crow,” but “I sold you dough.”
ARTHUR: But Douglas, there’s one thing I still don’t understand.
DOUGLAS: What’s that, Arthur?
ARTHUR: How did you do it?
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:48 am

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CAROLYN: Boys! We’ve just picked up an extra job. There shall be buns for tea. Where’s Martin?

DOUGLAS: He’s not in yet.

ARTHUR: What’s the job, Mum?

CAROLYN: For Air-Caledonia, the ‘Wee Scottish Airline’. One of their pilots has gone sick in Newcastle and they want us to fly up the covering crew. I do like flying other pilots; you don’t have to hold back with them.

DOUGLAS: Do you do much holding back with the passengers normally?

CAROLYN: Of course I do!

DOUGLAS: Good Lord.

ARTHUR: Mum, we’ve only got two pilots. What would we do if one of them went sick?

CAROLYN: They wouldn’t dare.

ARTHUR: But what if they did?

CAROLYN: Well then, I’m sure we’d think of something. (Door opens) Ah, there you are Martin.

MARTIN: Hello, Carolyn. What have I missed?

ARTHUR: Hi Skip! You’re looking very well.

MARTIN: Oh. Thank you, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Don’t you think Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Not ‘specially. I think he looks exactly the same as always.






(Credits!!)




(Door Opens)

DOUGLAS: Hello Martin. Are the pilots here yet?

MARTIN: We’re the pilots, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Yes, but the proper pilots.

MARTIN: Not yet, no.

DOUGLAS: Ah, is that the flight plan?

MARTIN: Nope it’s mine, leave it.

DOUGLAS: Oh Martin, please don’t tell me you’ve written a slim volume of verse. (Rushing pages) Oh. A C.V.

MARTIN: Umm.

DOUGLAS: Goodness. Feeling the call of the highlands are we? Fancy ourselves in tartan epaulets and a flying kilt?

MARTIN: There’s nothing wrong with trying to advance one’s career!

DOUGLAS: Not at all. So what’s the plan? Fly them to Newcastle with such panache and élan that the captain feels compelled to recommend you to their chief Mc-pilot.

MARTIN: I know it’s a long shot but if the captain and I should happen to hit it off, you never know.

DOUGLAS: You never do. What flight time do you have from Fitton to Newcastle?

MARTIN: Twenty five minutes.

DOUGLAS: Hmm… Let’s hope he’s the sort who makes friends quickly.

(Door Opens)

CAROLYN: Alright, look sharp. The pilots are here.

MARTIN: We are the pilots!

CAROLYN: I mean the proper pilots.

MARTIN: Could everyone please stop calling them that.

(Door Opens)

HERC: Good morning. MJN Air?

DOUGLAS: Herc!

HERC: Douglas.

DOUGLAS & HERC: Hula, hula, gaba!

MARTIN: Oh terrific.

HERC: How the devil are you? Not seen you since, oh…for a long time. But haven’t you done well for yourself? I see from your uniform you’ve become a Bolivian tank commander.

DOUGLAS: Yes, it’s an exuberant little number, isn’t it? And you’re a Scotsman, now you?

HERC: Ah, you don’t have to be Scottish to fly for a Scottish airline you know.

DOUGLAS: Don’t you? That’s interesting. Isn’t it, Martin? Oh, Martin this is Captain Herc Shipwright, old friend of mine from Air England.

MARTIN: (sighs) Yes, I thought he might be.

HERC: Martin. Pleasure. Hope this, ah, lazy old sod doesn’t work you too hard?

MARTIN: Not really, no. I’m the captain.

HERC: Oh! Gosh…so you are. Terribly sorry. So, Douglas does that mean you’re-

(Interrupts rather hurriedly) DOUGLAS: And this is Carolyn.

HERC: Charmed. Herc.

CAROLYN: Herc?

HERC: That’s it, yes, yes. Short for Hercules. Dad was…um…Dad was rather eccentric. After the aircraft though, rather than the hero. I’ll never know if that makes it better or worse.

CAROLYN: Did you have any brothers?

HERC: Wellington and Harrier.

CAROLYN: Sisters?

HERC: Sarah. He was eccentric, not mad. You’re the cabin crew then I take it?

CAROLYN: I am the owner and the CEO.

HERC: Oh gosh, are you? Well done.

CAROLYN: What do you mean “well done?!"

HERC: I don’t know. Nothing, really.

CAROLYN: “Well done for running a big scary company all by yourself, you clever little lady?”

HERC: No, no, absolutely not. No, (splutters) just a general, you know, good for you.

CAROLYN: I see. So you’d still have said “well done” if I’d been an ugly, middle aged man in a suit, would you?

HERC: The thought is inconceivable. So, it’s you I do the forms and what-not with, is it?

CAROLYN: Yes. So please, step into my office from where I administrate my airline.

HERC: Right you are. Ah, here’s my first officer. (Door Opens) I thought I’d lost you. Chaps, this is Linda Fairburn; Linda, these are some chaps.

LINDA: Hello.

MARTIN: Oh.

HERC: Back in a tick. (Door slams shut)

LINDA: Oh?

MARTIN: Oh, how lovely to see you.

LINDA: Have we met before?

MARTIN: I don’t think so, no. People haven’t usually met me before.

LINDA: Sorry?

MARTIN: I mean, they’ve normally met Douglas before, if they’ve met anyone. I, I, I mean obviously the people who have met me before have met me before. But there aren’t many of those because, I haven’t met…most…people.

DOUGLAS: Douglas Richardson, how lovely to meet you.

LINDA: And you. (Pause) Oh! Is that your plane out there?

DOUGLAS: That rather swish Gulf Stream? Alas, no. You see the forlorn object facing it and thereby providing it with a grim memento mori ? That’s GERTI.

LINDA: Yes, that’s what I meant- the Lockheed McDonnell 3-12

MARTIN: Oh! Yes, that’s it.

LINDA: Fantastic! I didn’t realise there were any of those still flying.

MARTIN: Well, there aren’t many.

DOUGLAS: And those there are barely do.

MARTIN: That’s very impressive though. Not many people know what it is.

DOUGLAS: Most people have to stop and think before saying ‘aeroplane’.

LINDA: Well…I, I was a big plane spotter when I was a girl, so-

MARTIN: Really?! Me too.

LINDA: What, when you were a girl?

M What? No, no, ah.(Laughs awkwardly) Yes, when I was a girl-No! When I was a boy. I, I, was never a girl.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Good to be absolutely clear.







(Door opens)

ARTHUR: Okay, chaps. Cabin cross-checked, ready for take-off.

MARTIN: Thank you Arthur. And, ah, how’s Captain Shipwright looking? Happy? Relaxed?

ARTHUR: I wouldn’t say relaxed…

MARTIN: Oh?! Why not?

ARTHUR: Well he’s talking to Mum.

MARTIN: Why’s she still on board? I can’t ask him for a job with her sitting there. Tell her to get off the plane!

ARTHUR: Tell her to?

MARTIN: Yes!

ARTHUR: Mum?

MARTIN: Yes! How hard could it be?

ARTHUR: It can be impossible.

MARTIN: Go!

(Door closes)

DOUGLAS: You sure it’s Herc you want to speak to?

MARTIN: What do you mean?

DOUGLAS: Not First Officer Linda, the plane spotting pride of Penicuik.

MARTIN: Well, she can’t recommend me, can she? She’s only my age; she’s hardly going to know the chief pilot.

DOUGLAS: She is about your age, yes. And rather nice, I thought.

MARTIN: Why? Do you think…she’d...?

DOUGLAS: So by the time we land in Newcastle, you’d ideally like a job recommendation from one of our passengers and a date from the other?

MARTIN: That’s not really feasible, is it?

DOUGLAS: It’s an ambitious program, certainly.







HERC: Alright, I admit it! I said “good for you” because you’re a woman.

CAROLYN: Ha!

HERC: Because you’re clearly doing a fine job in what is, unfortunately a male dominated profession.

CAROLYN: Well now you’re changing the terms of the argument.

HERC: Yes, I am.

CAROLYN: And you’re still wrong

ARTHUR: Ah, Mum? Captain says to tell you we’re leaving now.

CAROLYN: Right. Thank you.

ARTHUR: Yes.

CAROLYN: Anything else?

ARTHUR: No! Well, just, um, if you’re going to get off you should probably get off.

CAROLYN: I’m not going anywhere.

ARTHUR: Well, you sort of will, ah, because by not going anywhere you will go to Newcastle. You see what I mean.

CAROLYN: Alright, then. I’ll go to Newcastle.

ARTHUR: Yup, fine! Um…only I think the Skipper’s done the weight calculations based on five people and d-

CAROLYN: Arthur, if you are about to suggest my weight is going to make us too heavy to take off, very bad things will happen to you.






DOUGLAS: Post take off checks complete!

MARTIN: Thank you

DOUGLAS: Which means, today that pre-landing checks pretty much about to start.

MARTIN: Right. Oh, okay. I think I’ve decided. I’m going to concentrate on getting Herc alone and giving him my C.V.

DOUGLAS: Awwwwwwwwww[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]

MARTIN: What?! Do you think that’s the wrong decision?

DOUGLAS: No, I think it’s probably the right one. I’m just an old romantic. (Knocking) Come in.

(Door opens)

LINDA: Hello. Sorry to intrude, it’s the, conversation back there was getting a little heated.

MARTIN: Oh, no you’re welcome. It’s lovely to see you and very nice to, uh…see you.

LINDA: Thank you, Martin.

MARTIN: So. Linda. You’re a pilot?

LINDA: Yes.

MARTIN: Yes, obviously, sorry. That wasn’t the question. That was just, er, preliminary statement before the actual question I was going to ask, which is: How long have you been a pilot?

LINDA: Twelve years.

MARTIN: Twelve years. Right. Twelve years, well that’s not a long time…or a short time. Er, do you like it?

LINDA: What?

MARTIN: Being a pilot?

LINDA: Yes, I do. Do you?

MARTIN: Yes I do. I like it, like you. I mean- I like it like you do. Not that I like it like I like you. I don’t like you. I mean- I don’t not like you, I just I don’t like you as much as I like being a pilot.

LINDA: Don’t you?

MARTIN: Well, not yet. I mean, I’m sure if I got to know you I’d like you more than being a- Well probably not more than being a pilot, ‘cause I love being a pilot and I don’t suppose I’d love you- Well I suppose I might. No I mean…I’m just going to go and have a wander down the cabin.

(Door opens as Martin flees)

LINDA: Is he always like that?

DOUGLAS: No, he’s not terribly good at talking to other pilots, I’m afraid.

LINDA: Ooooh. I thought that was because I was a woman.

DOUGLAS: …and he’s atrocious at talking to women. So I’m afraid you represent something of a perfect storm.






(Curtain gets pulled back)

MARTIN: Arthur?

ARTHUR: Oh, hello Skip. You come to talk to me.

MARTIN: No.

ARTHUR: Oh, okay.

MARTIN: I’ve come to talk to Captain Shipwright.

ARTHUR: Oh right. Well he’s just through th-

MARTIN: I know where he is, but he’s still talking to your Mum. I want you to go and get her, bring her back here.

ARTHUR: How?

MARTIN: Just tell her you need to speak to her in the galley.

ARTHUR: Why?

MARTIN: It doesn’t matter! Anything, just make something up!

ARTHUR: Okay!





CAROLYN: Because the sexism inherent in the whole aviation industry is now so institutionalised we falsely imagine it must be justified. That’s why-

HERC: I know! That’s what I was saying! Hence, well done!

CAROLYN: Yes!

ARTHUR: Ah, could I have a word?

CAROLYN: Arthur, I am busy.

ARTHUR: Yeah but there’s a problem in the galley. Can you come and have a look?

CAROLYN: Sort it out for yourself, Arthur, I wasn’t even supposed to be on this flight, remember?

ARTHUR: Yeah, but still…since you are here I think it’s something you should take a look at.

CAROLYN: Oh, what is it?

ARTHUR: (Pause) It’s hard to describe. Ah, come and have a look.

CAROLYN: Look, just tell me! You can say it in front of Herc, he’s not a real passenger.

ARTHUR: Right. Well, it’s… (Pause while Arthur thinks) A fire.

HERC: A fire?!

ARTHUR: Only a little fire.

MARTIN: (Getting closer as he speaks) Ah, hello again Herc. I don’t suppose it’s a fire, is it Arthur?

HERC: He said it’s a fire.

MARTIN: Oh, he doesn’t mean-

ARTHUR: No, I don’t.

MARTIN: See?

ARTHUR: No, not a fire, I didn’t mean a fire.

MARTIN: Course you didn’t.

HERC: Well, what did you mean?

ARTHUR: Well just smoke-

MARTIN: No.

HERC: Smoke! Where from?

ARTHUR: I’m not sure…

MARTIN: From something you’ve cooked, probably. Explicable smoke from cooking.

ARTHUR: Yes, that’s right. Yes.

CAROLYN: You’re not cooking anything, Arthur.

ARTHUR: I’m not cooking anything, Skip!

HERC: Right. So Captain, I imagine you’ll be wanting to land immediately.

MARTIN: Umm-

HERC: I mean, not wanting to tell you your job, Captain, but obviously this counts as an emergency and you need to land now.

MARTIN: Yes I do.






EDDY: Right then. Morning all, welcome to Birmingham. Nice of you to drop in. I’m Eddy, Chief Engineer. Now, Captain. I’ve had a look round-

HERC: Actually, I’m merely a passenger on this flight.

EDDY: Oh. Sorry. I’ve had a look round Captain-

DOUGLAS: You’re getting warmer but no.

EDDY: Bloody hell. Someone give a clue then-

MARTIN: Oh for goodness sake, it’s me! Look at my arm, look at my hat.

EDDY: Very nice. So Captain, I’ve had, as I may have said, a look and there’s absolutely nothing wrong at all. Well, I say that. There’s about dozen things wrong, but nothing that would cause smoke in the galley.

DOUGLAS: Just one of life’s little mysteries then. The self-igniting and extinguishing galley. Perhaps we’ll never know its secrets.

CAROYLN: All right. Can we just get back up in the air please.

DOUGLAS: Maybe it was the ghost of some of Arthur’s cruelly burnt toast.

MARTIN: Yes, if you’d all like to get back on board.

DOUGLAS: No takers for the ghost toast? Shame.

MARTIN: Ah, Linda. This way.

LINDA: Yeah, I just wanted to ask Eddy though- sorry, what did you mean? A dozen things wrong?

EDDY: Well, look at it. It’s only Gaffer tape and hope keeping it together.

MARTIN: Er, actually this is a perfectly airworthy craft. I mean, there may be a few superficial cosmetic snags but I conduct a meticulous walk round before every flight.

EDDY: Oh yeah? Where’s your tail navigation light then? Or doesn’t your meticulous walk round extend to looking up?

MARTIN: Oh yes, it’s…oh. Well I’m sure it was fine when we left- I would have noticed. The bulb must have blown while we were in the air.

EDDY: Probably yeah. How long was that again? Seven minutes, did ya say?

MARTIN: Well, then. You’d better replace it hadn’t you?

EDDY: Eh?

MARTIN: You’ve identified a fault on my aircraft, thank you. Now, naturally I expect you to make it good.

LINDA: Martin, do you not think we would be better off getting underway-?

EDDY: It’s a light, Captain. A little twinkly light, so no one flies into the back of you in the dark. I reckon you can risk going without it at midday.

MARTIN: You might be delayed, it might get dark.

EDDY: You’re flying from Birmingham to Newcastle. Which way round the globe were you planning on going?

MARTIN: Look, I happen to be the commander of this vessel and if you want me to sign off your tech log, we will do this, please, by the book.

EDDY: Alright then, Commander. By the book it shall be.

MARTIN: Thank you.

EDDY: So the first thing I’m going to need is a cherry picker.

MARTIN: What?! What for?

EDDY: To reach the tail light.

MARTIN: But…it’s right here! You can reach it. You only need a step ladder.

EDDY: A step ladder, Commander. Oooh, you daredevil. No, no- the book specifically forbids the use of a dreaded step ladder or as it’s better known round here, the widow maker. What we will be requiring is a cherry picker and of course a safety harness, hard hat and high vis vest. See you in an hour or so.

MARTIN: Right. Still. I think the principle was worth





(DING DONG)

MARTIN: (Over Cabin Address) Ah, hello chaps. Um… just to say, everything’s absolutely under control but the ground engineer and I did at the last minute jointly notice a minor performance defect which he’s going to put right now. So we should be taking off in…ah about an hour.

CAROLYN: Martin! What have you done now?!

MARTIN: (Still over Cabin Address) So, sorry about the delay, which is not, incidentally because of anything I’ve done now.

CAROLYN: I’m sorry about this Herc.

HERC: Oh, not to worry. We’ve still got two hours in hand.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! I love take off delays.

DOUGLAS: Oh, Arthur, please. Even you cannot love take off delays.

CAROLYN: No, he does.

ARTHUR: Yeah. ‘Cause take-off’s the best bit of the whole flight, isn’t it? And normally it’s over before you can enjoy it. Whereas, this way we get to really build up to it. Right, I’m going to get teas and coffees on and ah, Mum-

CAROLYN: What?

ARTHUR: It’s going to be an hour. Can we open the games cupboard?






MARTIN: Hello, Linda. I’ve, er, er, appraised them of the situation. Is Eddy back yet?

LINDA: No.

MARTIN: Oh. Right. So, Linda, apart from being a pilot, are you anything else? I mean, do you do anything else? Or, do you like anything?

LINDA: Do I like anything?! Er, well, umm, I’m a rally driver, if that’s the sort of thing you mean?

MARTIN: Oh right! Wow. How exciting. Rally driving, that’s amazing! Gosh, so many questions. Umm… for instance, do you do it by yourself? Or with your, I dunno if you have a, er-

LINDA: A navigator. Yes.

MARTIN: Right. Yes. And, do you drive or does he…?

LINDA: Well…because I’m the driver and Sam’s the navigator I tend to do the driving.

MARTIN: Oh yes, of course. Silly of me. And Sam, is he your- I mean is he also yo-

LINDA: Well for a start, she’s a woman.

MARTIN: Oh right. Oh I see. I’m sorry, of course.

LINDA: What do you mean of course?

MARTIN: I don’t mean anything.

LINDA: Are you assuming, because I’m a pilot and a rally driver, that I must be a lesbian?

MARTIN: No! I’m not assuming that! I hope you’re not.

LINDA: YOU HOPE I’M NOT!

MARTIN: I,I, I mean not because it’s bad, it’s not. Lesbians are great. I just meant I hope you’re not for my sake. No, not my sake. I mean for all men’s sake-No that’s worse. Gods.

LINDA: Let’s just change the subject.

MARTIN: Yes. Um… So, how did you come to join Caledonia?

LINDA: Oh, for goodness sake! Because I was the best candidate for the job, okay?! My father deliberately didn’t sit on the panel and I applied under my mother’s maiden name.

MARTIN: What?

LINDA: Well, you’re insinuating I only got the job because my Dad is chief pilot, aren’t you?

MARTIN: No. No, not at all. I, I, I didn’t even know. Your Dad’s the chief pilot, of Caledonia.

LINDA: Yes! So what?! Doesn’t matter.

MARTIN: No! Not in the least. But it’s a totally, totally unmattering thing.






CAROLYN: So, the deal is that I pay you three hundred and sixty-two pounds now.

HERC: Yes.

CAROLYN: You don’t pay any rent next time you land on any of my greens, my yellows excluding Leicester Square or Park Lane; unless I’ve built a hotel on it; unless you mortgage something; unless it’s a station.

HERC: Unless it’s King’s Cross.

CAROLYN: Yes. Well, that seems straight forward enough. Deal.

DOUGLAS: I must say Herc, Monopoly is a very different game with you than it is with Arthur.

ARTHUR: Hey!

DOUGLAS: Arthur’s strategy tends to be pretty ruthlessly focused on getting Marylebone and Covent Garden because those are the ones he’s been to.

CAROLYN: He also once did a deal, whereby he gave Martin Mayfair so long as he was also allowed to give him the Electric Company.

ARTHUR: Well I kept having to times things by four. That’s not fun, that’s maths!






EDDY: Alright, I’ve made it! I’m up here! Can ya hear me down there, Commander.

MARTIN: Yes.

EDDY: Alright. Safety visor; on. Noise cancelling headphones; on. Stand by Commander, I’m now about to commence the operation.

MARTIN: Right.

EDDY: And- (Sounds of light bulb being screwed in) there we are. One brand new navigation tail light, shining like a beacon. And now- Let the descent begin! (Beeping)

WARNING VOICE: Caution! Cage about to descend. (Beeping continues) Caution! Cage about to descend!

EDDY: And away we gooooo! (Sounds of descending ending with a thump) Ah. That’s better. I can’t stand heights.

MARTIN: Fine. Have you had your fun now?

EDDY: You wanted the book, you got the book. You happy to sign off the tech log now?

MARTIN: Yes. (Sounds of signing) Right, and now that’s done; let me just say this- People like you love to mock doing it by the book. But one of these days, you might just find yourself on a plane when something goes wrong and then you’ll be jolly glad that there is a book and that there are people like me who do it by it.

EDDY: Oh yes?

MARTIN: Yes, actually, goodbye.

EDDY: Of course, I haven’t signed the tech log yet.

MARTIN: Oh.

EDDY: When did you last check the radios?

MARTIN: This morning?

EDDY: What? All two hundred and fifty-six channels?

MARTIN: Of course not.

EDDY: Right, this aircraft is grounded.

MARTIN: What?! Nooooo!

EDDY: What can I say? You’ve shown me the error of my ways.







DOUGLAS: Alright Arthur, for a cheese. According to Jean-Paul Sartre, what is hell?

ARTHUR: Hmm… Right. Jean-Paul Sartre. What would he have said?

HERC: Are you familiar with Jean-Paul Sartre, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Of course I am! I think he’d have said that hell is something like when the baddies are in a concrete bunker and you’re out of grenades.

CAROLYN: Dear Heart, are you by any chance thinking of Jean Claude Van-Damme?

ARTHUR: I might be, yes.

DOUGLAS: Sorry Arthur; hell is other people.

ARTHUR: Ffff-what? That’s just stupid. Other people are great!

DOUGLAS: I’d loved to have seen you and Sartre go head to head on that one.

CAROLYN: My go. (Dice rolled)Ah- Art and Lit please Herc.

HERC: Oh, oh dear. This is terribly easy. Which Bizet opera features the Toreador song?

DOUGLAS: Oh, oh dear. (laughs)

CAROLYN: I haven’t the least idea. (Herc laughs) Is there something amusing you Captain Hercules?

HERC: Oh! You really don’t know?

CAROLYN: No, I really don’t know. Tosca?

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, that’s Puccini!

CAROLYN: I’ll take your word for it.

HERC: Oh Carolyn, you’re not going to tell me you don’t like opera.

CAROLYN: Well what’s the point of it!? It does two things badly. If I want a story I go to see a play; if I want to hear music I go to a concert.

ARTHUR: Do you Mum?! When?

CAROLYN: Shut up Arthur. What I have no use for is a ridiculous story sung at me by actors who can’t act, in a language I don’t speak for four and a half hours.

HERC: Oh what utter nonsense. Well sung opera is the pinnacle of human endeavour.

CAROLYN: Ah, rot!

HERC: (sings) Torea-dor, torea-dor. (Douglas joins in) Torea-dor, torea-dor! Or, or.

CAROLYN: (Over the singing men) Yes Arthur, the answer was wrong. Hell is being trapped in a grounded aircraft, with two middle aged pilots singing Puccini at you!

HERC & DOUGLAS: It’s not Puccini!

CAROLYN: I don’t caaaare!







EDDY: Channel thirty-two. Golf Tango India; radio check.

ATC: (Over radio) Strength high. (Ends communication sound)

MARTIN: So, Eddy. How you getting on?

EDDY: The first thirty-two are clear as a bell Commander. The next two hundred and twenty four; who can say?

(Door opens)

HERC: Ah, hello. Eddy, is it? I’m Herc, the other captain. I gather you’re very kindly checking the coms for us, yes?

EDDY: That’s right. Gotta do it by the book, for the Commander here.

HERC: Oh. Oh golly yes. Cross the I’s and dot the T’s; couldn’t agree more. No, I just wondered if you fancy a little bet. You’ve got two hundred and fifty six channels to check- I bet you fifty quid I know which you’re on.

EDDY: That’s pretty long odds isn’t it? And how will you know I’m telling the truth?

HERC: Oh, my dear chap. I trust you implicitly. Because you see, my guess on which I’m betting this fifty pound note [rustles the note] is that out of the two hundred and fifty six channels you’re on channel two hundred and fifty five.

EDDY: Ah, I see. Well, very close, Captain but as it happens I was on two hundred and fifty six.

HERC: Oh, curse my terrible luck! Here you go.

EDDY: Much obliged, okay you’re good to go.








DOUGLAS: And on stand at two thirty two.

MARTIN: Right. (Ding Dong) Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Newcastle. I do apologise for our delay today and I hope you’ve, none the less, enjoyed your flight. And, could First Officer Fairburn step into the flight deck for a moment?

DOUGLAS: Ooooh. You’re going to ask her?

MARTIN: Yes.

DOUGLAS: For a date? Or to take your C.V?

MARTIN: None of your business!

DOUGLAS: Fair enough. Well. Good luck.

MARTIN: Were you just planning to sit there? I mean, I can ask Arthur to get you some popcorn.

DOUGLAS: Right. No.

(Door opens)

LINDA: (Sighs) You wanted to see me?

MARTIN: Yes; I, I did. I just wanted to say to you that if sometime, I mean in the future; well obviously in the future; if you felt like- Linda would you like to go to Duxford Air Museum with me?

LINDA: Oh, I am so pleased you said that Martin!

MARTIN: Are you?

LINDA: Oh, I am so pleased you said that Martin!

MARTIN: Are you?

LINDA: Yes! …Oh. God, no. Sorry. I don’t want to go out with you. Sorry, I should have said that first. I mean, no offence but…no.

MARTIN: Right. So when you say you’re so pleased I said it-?

LINDA: No, I meant; I’m so pleased that you said that. I could see there was something and- ah, forgive me but, I had this awful feeling that you were going to pull out a C.V for me to give to Dad! (laughs)

MARTIN: (Joins in) Oh, no –wasn’t going to do that.

LINDA: No, of course not. I’m sorry, but people do, though and, oh, I’ve been thinking the worst of you all this time. Forgive me?

MARTIN: Of course! Maybe I should give you my C.V now.

LINDA: (laughs) There you are, see you’re funny. I had a feeling you would be if you just relaxed.

MARTIN: So, might you after all-

LINDA: No. I think you relaxed because I said no. And I think you’re probably right about that.







HERC: Well, cheerio Douglas. Jolly good to see you.

DOUGLAS: Yes! And you.

HERC: Hope to bump into you again soon.

DOUGLAS: Well. Funny you should say that. I was rather toying with the idea of, ah, well, stretching my wings a little.

HERC: Oh?

DOUGLAS: Yes. I wondered if it was time to be thinking about a move to a, slightly bigger airline. With aeroplanes in the plural. I mean, even Caledonia mightn’t be a bad-

HERC: Ooooh, I wouldn’t do that.

DOUGLAS: Really?

HERC: Goodness me, no. No you’d find it deadly dull, after all the excitement of charter life? Nipping round the world like a sports car rather than lumbering about in a big old bus like us poor chaps. No, I envy you.

DOUGLAS: But, if, hypothetically I were to ask-

HERC: Ah, but you wouldn’t ask, would you?

DOUGLAS: No. As you say, I’m very happy where I am.






HERC: (Scribbling sounds) And done! Well, thank you very much, Carolyn, for a far more entertaining trip than I had any right to expect.

CAROLYN: Our pleasure. Lovely to meet you. Goodbye.

HERC: Oh, and, ah Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Yes?

HERC: I can’t tell you how wrong you are about opera.

CAROLYN: Oh, come on. We’ve already had that argument and I’ve already devastatingly won it.

HERC: Oh I don’t think so. And I thought I perhaps I would prove it to you. There’s a rather superb Rigoletto at Covent Garden at the moment. I don’t believe it’s humanly possible to see it and still dislike opera. Why don’t you come along?

CAROLYN: With you?

HERC: Yes.

CAROLYN: I think not.

HERC: Oh. Alright. May I ask why?

CAROLYN: Because I hate opera, as you know!

HERC: Fair enough. Just a suggestion. Cheerio.

CAROLYN: What I like is walking. I often walk my dog for instance on Brinkley Chase near Fitton. And then, sometimes I have lunch in the pub.

HERC: Well, now you’re redefining the terms of the argument.

CAROLYN: Yes, I am.

HERC: Alright then. How’s Thursday?

CAROLYN: I’ll let you know. Bye. (Walks away)

HERC: Jolly good. Now, I wonder if, ah. Ah! You got my message. Excellent. Wa- listen. I just wanted to, ah, get you on your own for a moment to tell you I was very impressed today by the way you handed our little stop over. And by your attitude generally. So, look, here’s my card; if you ever fancy slinging your C.V over to Caledonia and I’ll make sure you’re on the top of the pile.

ARTHUR: Gosh. Well that’s very kind of you Herc, but to be honest I’m really happy here.

(Credits)
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:50 am

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ARTHUR: Here we are, chaps – er, chap! Coffee for you, Douglas, and coffee for you - to maybe have a bit later on, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Did you by any chance forget Martin wasn’t flying today, Arthur?

ARTHUR: No, I didn’t actually. It’s just I only know the amounts to make coffee for two people.

DOUGLAS: You could just have made half of what you usually make.

ARTHUR: Well, I couldn’t, because I’d only know what to make half of once I’d made it, and once I’d made it, I’d made it.

DOUGLAS: Oh well, fair enough then. I didn’t realise you’d addressed the problem scientifically. (There is a bing-bong.) Hello, Starbucks, Irish Sea.

MARTIN: Douglas, it’s Martin.

DOUGLAS: Hello there. Enjoying your day off?

MARTIN: No. Douglas, how long till you land?

DOUGLAS: About half an hour. Why?

MARTIN: Great! Is Arthur there?

DOUGLAS: Well, not all there.

ARTHUR: Hello, Skip! This is weird, isn’t it? Because normally when I’m here listening to someone on sat-com, you’re here, too, listening to them, only now you’re there where they are, and I’m here, where you usually are and where I usually am and am now, talking to you!

DOUGLAS: You find Arthur in philosophical mood.

MARTIN: Arthur, I need you to help me.

ARTHUR: Brilliant! I love helping!

MARTIN: Well, this is a big help, a very big help.

ARTHUR: No problem, Skip – I am a very big helper.

MARTIN: Well, Arthur, erm – Douglas, are you still listening?

DOUGLAS: I don’t have an enormous amount of choice, Martin.

MARTIN: Can’t you put your fingers in your ears?

DOUGLAS: Heaven knows I’m not generally a stickler for safety procedures, but I’m not certain that’s a good idea whilst flying an aeroplane.

MARTIN: Fine. Arthur, I’m at Fitton Hospital.

ARTHUR: Oh no! Are you all right?

MARTIN: No, I’ve sprained my ankle.

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, how did you do that?

MARTIN: I was – it doesn’t matter how.

DOUGLAS: Martin.

MARTIN: Look, it’s a perfectly valid tool, when teaching best safety practice, to demonstrate the wrong way as well as the right way.

DOUGLAS: You twisted your ankle, whilst teaching someone how not to twist their ankle?

MARTIN: Anyway, Arthur, you know how though I’m mostly a pilot, I’m also a bit of a man with a van?

ARTHUR: Yeah.

MARTIN: Well, today – right now actually – I’m supposed to be picking up a piano in Fitton and delivering it to a pub in Devon.

ARTHUR: Wouldn’t have thought you could do that with a sprained ankle.

MARTIN: No, Arthur, I can’t. This is where the ‘you helping me’ part comes in. My van is at the airfield, and the addresses and the spare van keys are in my pigeonhole.

DOUGLAS: Spare Van Keys – didn’t we fly him to Amsterdam once?

MARTIN: Douglas, shh! Arthur, when you land, do you think that you could - c-c-could you pick them up, find my van, pick me up at the hospital, drive me to Fitton, load a piano and then - drive me to Ottery St. Mary?

ARTHUR: Yeah, no problem. All right, bye!

DOUGLAS: Really, Martin? Arthur? Is this wise?

ARTHUR: Hey!

MARTIN: I know! I know! But I - I don’t have a choice!

ARTHUR: Double hey! I can do it.

DOUGLAS: Would it be worse for you to cancel the job or to rely on Arthur - Arthur - to pick up and drive a piano - a piano - two hundred miles in a van – a van?

ARTHUR: Why shouldn’t I?

DOUGLAS: Because, Arthur, you’re a clot.

ARTHUR: I’m not a clot! What’s a clot?

DOUGLAS: Well, you know the way that you are and the things that you do?

ARTHUR: Yeah?

DOUGLAS: Those are the ways of a clot.

MARTIN: Douglas, you’re forgetting I’ll be there with him the whole time, supervising.

DOUGLAS: Oh, then what can possibly go wrong?

MARTIN: There’s no-one else to ask!

DOUGLAS: No-one?

MARTIN: No!

DOUGLAS: Ahem.

MARTIN: Really? Would you?

DOUGLAS: Well, I’ve nothing else to do today, and it’s always useful to have someone owe you a colossal favour.

ARTHUR: But I can still come, right?

DOUGLAS: Of course!

MARTIN: Uh, really, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Oh yes! I see my role as very much a managerial one, with perhaps a little light driving. If you want actual piano shoving done, we’ll need a piano shover.

ARTHUR: Brilliant!



CAROLYN: Ah, yes? Oh, hello, you two.

ARTHUR: Hello, mum! Gerti’s all Hoovered and locked up, so can I go to Devon?

CAROLYN: Devon?

ARTHUR: Yeah. Martin and Douglas are taking a piano to somewhere called – what was it? – Weasels King Henry? Hedgehog O’Brien!

DOUGLAS: Ottery St. Mary.

ARTHUR: Yeah, and they said I could come, too. Can I go, mum?

CAROLYN: Arthur, you are twenty-nine years old. You don’t need my permission to go to Devon!

ARTHUR: Is that a yes?

CAROLYN: Yes!

ARTHUR: You won’t be bored all day without me?

CAROLYN: I’ll struggle through.

DOUGLAS: Excellent! All right then, Arthur. You get the keys and addresses; I’ll seek out the van.

Door closes, and a number is swiftly dialled.


HERC: Hello, Herc Shipwright?

CAROLYN: Ah, Herc. It's Carolyn Knapp-Shappey here. Are you still free today?

HERC: Oh, hello. Uh, yes, I am.

CAROLYN: Well, to my great disappointment, various better offers have fallen through, and I am in fact reluctantly available for that lunch and dog walk you were nagging me about.



MARTIN: Ah yes, this is it – the Laurels. (He rings the bell.) Now let me do the talking, all right?

DOUGLAS: Of course.

ARTHUR: Right-o!

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Hello?

DOUGLAS: Good morning, madam! I am Doug; this is Mart and Arth. We are your man with a van or rather men with a ven.

MARTIN: Hello, I’m sorry, ignore him. I’m Martin Crieff. We’re from Icarus Removals.

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Oh right, you’re here for the piano.

DOUGLAS: Icarus?

MARTIN: Yes, that’s right.

DOUGLAS: You do know what happened to Icarus?

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: It’s in here. Wipe your feet.

MARTIN: Thank you very much. (Aside to Douglas) Of course I do!

Door closes.

DOUGLAS: So you’ve deliberately named your company after the first bad pilot in history?

MARTIN: Shut up!

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Here it is.

DOUGLAS: Aha! (He tinkles the ivories.) Ah, not bad. She’ll be wasted in a pub.

ARTHUR: Wow, Douglas, that’s amazing! Oh, now do Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines!

DOUGLAS: Absolutely not.

ARTHUR: Oh, but it’s my favourite!

DOUGLAS: Anyway, I don’t know how it goes.

ARTHUR: Yeah, you must do! ♪Up, down, flying around! Looping the loop and defying the ground!♪

DOUGLAS: If anything I now know how it goes even less, but I can do you a little Chopin.

MARTIN: Yes, thank you, Douglas. This lady wants us to move it, not show off on it.

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Oh, I don’t mind. Isn’t he good?

DOUGLAS: You’re too kind.

MARTIN: We – we’re on quite a tight schedule.

DOUGLAS: Yes, seven hours to drive to two hundred miles – every second counts!

MARTIN: Douglas, please!

DOUGLAS: Certainly, Icarus. (He stops playing.) All right, Arthur, snap to it! Arthur provides the brawn to our little operation, madam. I, you may not be entirely surprised to learn, am the brains.

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: He doesn’t look very brawny.

DOUGLAS: True, but that’s nothing compared to how much he’s not brainy.

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: And what’s he for?

DOUGLAS: Martin? Ah, Martin here has perhaps the most important thing of all.

THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: What’s that?

DOUGLAS: A van.



The bell is rung and door is opened.


HERC: Hello Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Ah, there you are. You’re late.

HERC: We didn’t set a time.

CAROLYN: You’re later than I’d imagined you’d be.

HERC: Then you clearly don’t have a very vivid imagination.

Some rather yappy barking begins.


CAROLYN: Hello darling. Did you hear the silly late man?

HERC: Ah, hello. What a ridiculous dog!

CAROLYN: I’m sorry?

HERC: I said you have a ridiculous dog.

CAROLYN: My dog is not ridiculous.

HERC: Then whose dog is this? Hello there. What is she?

CAROLYN: She’s a cockapoo.

HERC: Oh, a cockapoo. Obviously, I’d never have called her ridiculous had I known she was a cockapoo.

CAROLYN: It is a cross between a poodle and a –

HERC: Cockatoo?

CAROLYN: A cocker spaniel. And she’s not ridiculous – she happens to be a noble and faithful hound.

HERC: Uhuh, and what’s she called?

CAROLYN: Doesn’t matter.

HERC: What?

CAROLYN: Her name is not important. Right, I thought we’d have lunch first, then walk after.

HERC: Oh, I’d rather walk first, work up an appetite.

CAROLYN: Fine. I’ll see you when you finally get to the pub then. I’ll be the one looking full.



DOUGLAS: All right, are we ready to go?

MARTIN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Yep.

DOUGLAS: Jolly good. Pre-driving to Devon checklist, Captain? Doors?

MARTIN: Closed.

DOUGLAS: Seatbelts?

MARTIN: On.

DOUGLAS: Piano?

MARTIN: Checked.

DOUGLAS: Piano?

ARTHUR: Crosschecked!

DOUGLAS: Jelly babies?

Plastic rustles promisingly.


MARTIN: Jelly babies to manual.

DOUGLAS: Excellent! Then off we go.

MARTIN: I, um, I would’ve helped with the loading, you know, but it’s only – this ankle –

DOUGLAS: It’s quite all right. We managed.

MARTIN: I’m impressed you got the owner to do so much of the lifting.

DOUGLAS: Yes, she had a sort of wiry strength for her age.

ARTHUR: I didn’t know you could play the piano, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Well, you remember that time when there was that thing you didn’t know whether or not I could do and then it turned out that I couldn’t?

ARTHUR: No.

DOUGLAS: No, nor do I.

MARTIN: Fnung -

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: Uh, nothing. It’s just – uh - you were just a bit close to that Volvo.

DOUGLAS: Martin!

MARTIN: Don’t bite my head off, but the van’s probably wider than you’re used to driving.

DOUGLAS: I am used to driving an aeroplane.

MARTIN: Not on the A46!

ARTHUR: Yellow car.

DOUGLAS: What?

ARTHUR: Nothing. Just – yellow car.

MARTIN: Why did you say ‘yellow car’?

ARTHUR: There was a yellow car.

MARTIN: But why did you say ‘yellow car’?

ARTHUR: You’ve got to say ‘yellow car’ when there’s a yellow car.

MARTIN: Why?

ARTHUR: That’s how you play Yellow Car.

MARTIN: We’re not playing Yellow Car.

ARTHUR: You’re always playing Yellow Car.

DOUGLAS: And how, though I fear I can guess, does one play Yellow Car?

ARTHUR: Right well, imagine you’re driving along –

MARTIN: We are driving along.

ARTHUR: Oh yeah, okay, so now you look at the cars as they come along in the other direction, and they’re all different colours. So, uh, for instance, now, uh, that one’s white; that one’s blue; that one’s a sort of metally grey –

DOUGLAS: And when you see a yellow car, you say ‘yellow car’.

ARTHUR: How did you know?

DOUGLAS: A wild stab in the dark!

MARTIN: And then what?

ARTHUR: You start again!

DOUGLAS: So how does it end, this game?

ARTHUR: It never ends.

DOUGLAS: That’s very much what I feared.



WAITRESS: Are you ready to order?

HERC: Yes, I think so. I’ll have the mushroom and aubergine risotto.

CAROLYN: Uh!

HERC: What do you mean, ‘uh’?

CAROLYN: Well, you’ve seen they have proper food here as well.

HERC: Nevertheless.

WAITRESS: Any starter?

HERC: Greek salad, please.

CAROLYN: Oh, don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian?

HERC: I will tell you that, because I am one.

WAITRESS: And for you, madam?

CAROLYN: Well, that’s very disappointing. Why on Earth –

HERC: Carolyn, all through human history, we’ve been wrong about equality, and we thought we were right. All men are equal – except slaves, obviously. Oh, no, wait! All men are equal, except black ones, obviously. No! No, wait! All people are equal, except women, obviously. Look, are you not at all curious about what we’re still getting wrong? And don’t you think there’s a good chance it’s “all lives are equal, except animals, obviously”?

CAROLYN: That’s an eloquent argument.

HERC: Thank you.

CAROLYN: I mean it’s childish, specious, and the bit where you compare animal rights with universal suffrage is frankly offensive, but it’s superficially eloquent.

WAITRESS: Shall I come back?

CAROLYN: No! No, I’m ready. I’ll have the rack of lamb.

WAITRESS:: And to start?

CAROLYN: The whitebait.

WAITRESS: Certainly.

CAROLYN: Out of interest, about how many whitebait do you get in a serving?

WAITRESS: About thirty, madam?

CAROLYN: Gosh, imagine that: thirty little lives on a plate! Yum, yum.



MARTIN: Okay, so as long as we average at least eleven miles an hour, we should get to Ottery St. Mary by six.

DOUGLAS: Well, it’s a punishing pace, but I think I’m up to it.

ARTHUR: Why’s it called that, Skip?

DOUGLAS: What?

ARTHUR: Ottery St. Mary.

MARTIN: I’ve no idea.

ARTHUR: Do you know, Douglas?

DOUGLAS: Yes.

MARTIN: Do you?

DOUGLAS: Certainly I do. You see St. Mary is the patron saint of Devon, and she, of course, was famously martyred by being eaten alive by otters.

ARTHUR: Really?

DOUGLAS: Oh yes. Rabid otters. And so she’s always portrayed in pictures absolutely covered in otters.

ARTHUR: What, eating her?

DOUGLAS: Sometimes, in the more fire and brimstone churches. Elsewhere, the assumption is they’re all in Heaven now and have made up, so they’re just shown milling about her, nuzzling her affectionately and offering her ottery kisses and gifts of haddock.

MARTIN: Douglas...!

ARTHUR: Why would the otters go to Heaven, if they ate a saint?

DOUGLAS: You’ve put your finger, Arthur, as is so often your way, on the crux of a thorny theological problem. So far, our best guess is simply that St. Peter’s got a real soft spot for otters. He looks into those whiskery faces and goes “You guys! I can’t stay mad at you” and lets them into Heaven.

ARTHUR: So Heaven is full of otters!

DOUGLAS: More than you can possibly imagine.

MARTIN: So in your case, Arthur, probably about twelve.

ARTHUR: Hey, I can imagine loads of otters!

DOUGLAS: Really? How many?

ARTHUR: A million!

DOUGLAS: You see I don’t think you can. I don’t think anyone can.

ARTHUR: I can! I’m doing it now. Wow!

DOUGLAS: No, you’re just imagining a lot of otters and then saying that’s a million. I don’t think anyone can actually, genuinely imagine more than about twenty otters at a time.

MARTIN: Oh, come on! I can definitely imagine a hundred otters.

ARTHUR: Me, too! Yellow car.

DOUGLAS: All right, how much space do they take up? Could you for instance get a hundred otters onboard Gerti?

MARTIN: Yes, I reckon you could.

DOUGLAS: And is it a jam-packed, RSPCA nightmare of a plane, or are the otters lounging in relative comfort?

MARTIN: Well, okay, well there’s, uh, there’s sixteen seats, so say two to a seat –

DOUGLAS: They’re good friends, these otters?

MARTIN: Let’s hope so. And one in each overhead compartment.

DOUGLAS: Always remembering to open them with care, because otters may have shifted during the flight.

ARTHUR: And one under each seat?

DOUGLAS: Yes, good thinking!

MARTIN: But that’s where the lifejackets are.

DOUGLAS: That’s all right: otters can swim. Now, how many in the galley?

MARTIN: Um, four on the floor, two on the worktops? Well, it depends – are we carrying Carolyn and Arthur?

DOUGLAS: To wait on the otters? I think that would be an indulgence, frankly. I think we’d be better off replacing them with more otters.

MARTIN: We’d be better off replacing Arthur with an otter anyway.

ARTHUR: Hey!

DOUGLAS: So thirty-two in the seats, sixteen in the overhead lockers, sixteen under the seats, six in the galley –

MARTIN: Fifteen in the hold?

DOUGLAS: Oh, twenty easily, and six or seven in the aisle.

MARTIN: Call it seven.

DOUGLAS: So that’s what? Ninety-seven – and three in the flight deck! A hundred!

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

MARTIN: No. Not in the flight deck.

DOUGLAS: Hypothetically.

MARTIN: I don’t care how hypothetical it is, I’m not flying with a live otter in the flight deck!

DOUGLAS: I don’t see why not. Historically, very few hijackings have been carried out by otters.

MARTIN: I’m sorry, but I don’t think the Civil Aviation Authority would be too keen on the idea.

DOUGLAS: To be quite honest with you, Captain, I don’t think there’s a whole lot about this plane full of unsupervised otters the CAA is going to love.



CAROLYN: Come on, you’re lagging again.

HERC: (breathlessly) I’m not lagging. I’m walking at about twice the normal human pace.

CAROLYN: This is why you need protein, you see, otherwise you lag.

HERC: Look, I’ll tell you who isn’t lagging: your ridiculous dog.

CAROLYN: What? Oh! Come back! Here! Here!

HERC: Why don’t you call her?

CAROLYN: I am calling her. Bad girl! Come here!

HERC: Why don’t you call her by name?

CAROLYN: Here!

HERC: I hope that little girl likes dogs.

CAROLYN: Come here now!

HERC: Oh dear, I don’t think she does. (The yelping has resumed.) Well, not anymore anyway.

CAROLYN: Snoopadoop, here!

HERC: Snoopadoop?

CAROLYN: Good girl! (To Herc) Shut up!

HERC: It’s better than I’d dared hope.

CAROLYN: Arthur named her.

HERC: Snoopadoop, the cockapoo, noblest of hounds!



MARTIN: Couldn’t we fit a couple in the loo?

DOUGLAS: Of what?

MARTIN: Otters.

DOUGLAS: Ah, yes!

ARTHUR: Brilliant, Skip! So how many’s that?

DOUGLAS: Ninety-nine.

ARTHUR: Oh, we’ve got to get to a hundred. Ooh, services! Can we stop?

MARTIN: Arthur, surely you can’t need to go again?

ARTHUR: No, I don’t. I just really like motorway services. It’s like a little gang of shops that have gone on holiday together.

MARTIN: No, we can’t.

ARTHUR: Why not? We’ve got hours and hours to spare!

MARTIN: Not to spare, to be safe. We’re not stopping.

ARTHUR: Oh!

DOUGLAS: I know – life is tough. Now make yourself useful –

ARTHUR: I’m already useful!

DOUGLAS: Make yourself even usefuller. There’s a map thingy on my phone: type in the address.

ARTHUR: Which address?

DOUGLAS: The Gettysburg Address, Arthur. Which address do you think? The address we’re delivering this piano to.

ARTHUR: Oh, right, yes. What is it?

DOUGLAS: Give me strength! The address on the envelope you picked up from Martin’s pigeonhole at the airfield.

ARTHUR: Right. Now, I know how you’re going to be, but remember you also asked me to pick up the van keys –

MARTIN: Arthur...

ARTHUR: Half the job was picking up the van keys, and that part I did brilliantly!

MARTIN: Oh, God.

DOUGLAS: Arthur, you clot.

MARTIN: Douglas, why did you get him to pick it up? You know he’s a clot!

ARTHUR: I’m not a clot!

DOUGLAS: I didn’t know he was that much of a clot! I mean he more or less manages to feed and dress himself - I assumed he could pick up a piece of paper ten seconds after being told to.

MARTIN: Well, you were wrong!

ARTHUR: Look, it’s all right. We can phone them and get their address.

DOUGLAS: On which number should we phone them?

ARTHUR: We can get the number from Directory Enquiries!

DOUGLAS: And what should we give Directory Enquiries to get the number?

ARTHUR: Well, the addre- oh!

DOUGLAS: Right, back to the airfield!



HERC: Carolyn, it’s this way!

CAROLYN: No, it’s this way.

HERC: It is not, Carolyn. I have a pilot’s excellent sense of direction; I have a map; I have GPS on my phone, and I am standing by a signpost, and all of us agree that it’s this way.

CAROLYN: And you’re all wrong! This is a shortcut. Come on!

HERC: No. I don’t want to.

CAROLYN: Why not?

HERC: Well, it’s - it’s muddy - and hilly – and there’s sheep everywhere.

CAROLYN: So?

HERC: I don’t like sheep.

CAROLYN: You don’t have to like them. You just have to walk past them.

HERC: I don’t want to walk past them.

CAROLYN: Hercules, are you frightened of sheep?

HERC: No. No, I’m not, no.

CAROLYN: Baaaaaa!

HERC: Stop it!

CAROLYN: You are! You’re frightened of sheep! You’re frightened of little woolly baa lambs!

HERC: No, no, I am not! Little baa lambs I can take in my stride – it’s big, mean, hooved, horned beasts that I don’t like.

CAROLYN: Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

HERC: Stop it! It’s not funny!

CAROLYN: If I can just pick you up on a small point there, Herc, it is the funniest thing I ever heard.

HERC: It’s not, actually. Why do people always react like this?

CAROLYN: Yes, though of course, now, now I understand the vegetarianism. You fear reprisals. The midnight raid on your house: twelve balaclava-ed ewes with a thirst for revenge, a jar of mint sauce and a murderously sharp sprig of rosemary!

HERC: See you back at the car!



MARTIN: Okay, it’s fine, and this is what the built-in time was built in for. So suppose we get back to the airport at, what, five? Turn straight around – yellow car! – back on the M5 by -

DOUGLAS: Martin, are you playing Yellow Car?

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Why did you say ‘Yellow Car’?

MARTIN: I, um, I just happened to see one.

DOUGLAS: Why did you say ‘Yellow Car’?

MARTIN: I’m not playing it! I just wanted to say it before Arthur.

DOUGLAS: That is what playing it is.

MARTIN: Fine then, I was playing it, and I won! Yellow Car! Yellow Car! Yellow Car!

ARTHUR: Hey, Skip, you’re really good! I missed all of those!



MARTIN: All right, now you two stay here. I’ll go in and get it.

DOUGLAS: Hmm, whose is that green Mercedes?

ARTHUR: I don’t know. It’s nice, isn’t it?

DOUGLAS: Let’s have a look. (The van doors open and slam shut.) There’s someone in it.

An electric window winds down.


HERC: Hello Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Herc! What on Earth are you doing here?

HERC: I’m dropping Carolyn home, but she wanted to pick something up from the office on the way. She’s inside now, if you want to speak to her.

DOUGLAS: What do you mean “dropping her home”? Is she all right?

HERC: She’s fine.

DOUGLAS: Home from where?

HERC: We've been for a walk.

DOUGLAS: A walk?

HERC: That’s right.

DOUGLAS: You came all the way here to go for a walk with Carolyn?

HERC: Well, and lunch.

DOUGLAS: Oh, good Lord! And what have you done with your wife?

HERC: I’m not married.

DOUGLAS: Divorced, I take it?

HERC: Of course.

DOUGLAS: How many times?

HERC: Four. You?

DOUGLAS: Just the three.

HERC: Oh, you old romantic.

DOUGLAS: Right, well, I’ll leave you to it. Goodbye.

HERC: Cheerio.

Gravel scrunches as DOUGLAS and ARTHUR return to the van.


DOUGLAS: Arthur, quick! Help me get the piano out of the van.

ARTHUR: Why?

DOUGLAS: Just do it!

The office door opens.


CAROLYN: All right, Herc, I’ve found it. Let’s go.

A scale is played on the piano as introduction to...


DOUGLAS: ♪When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore!♪

CAROLYN: Douglas!

DOUGLAS: ♪When the moon seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine, that’s amore!♪

CAROLYN: Why am I constantly beset by pilots who think they’re funny?

DOUGLAS: Oh, hullo, Carolyn. Fancy seeing you here!

CAROLYN: I am ignoring you. You are being ignored. I am getting in the car. (Car door clunks shut.)

DOUGLAS: ♪Bells will ring, ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling -♪

CAROLYN: You are being ignored!

ARTHUR: That was brilliant, Douglas! Now do ‘Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines’!

DOUGLAS: No!

ARTHUR: Oh!

MARTIN: Right, I’ve given them a call, and he says he’ll be there till seven, so we can just make it as long as – Douglas, why have you got the piano out?

DOUGLAS: Just giving it an airing.

MARTIN: Get it back in the van!

DOUGLAS: All right, all right! Come on, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Okay, okay! Can I have the keys?

DOUGLAS: You already have the keys.

ARTHUR: No, I don’t. I gave them back to you.

DOUGLAS: No, Arthur, you didn’t. You have the keys.

ARTHUR: I don’t. I don’t!

DOUGLAS: Then you’ve locked them in the van.

ARTHUR: No! I absolutely, definitely gave them to you!

DOUGLAS: Except I don’t remember taking them, and I don’t have them, so one of us has made an incredibly stupid mistake. Which one of us does that sound more like?

ARTHUR: That sounds more like me.

DOUGLAS: Because you’re a what?

ARTHUR: A clod.

DOUGLAS: A clot!

ARTHUR: A clot.

DOUGLAS: And a clod.

MARTIN: What are we going to do? It’s five already, and if we call a locksmith, we’ll never make it! Douglas, do you know a trick?

DOUGLAS: I’m afraid breaking into transit vans is a little outside my sphere.

MARTIN: Well, think of something!

DOUGLAS: Well, we may no longer be men with a van, but we are at the airfield, and therefore we are, as usual, men with a plane.



DOUGLAS: Bristol, Golf Tango India, request permission for passage through your airspace for three men and a flying piano.

AT C: Golf Tango India, please state intended next way point and key signature.

DOUGLAS: Exmoor in F sharp.

ATC: Accepted.

Flight deck door clicks open.


ARTHUR: Coffee, chaps, and I’ve had a brilliant idea!

MARTIN: Yes?

ARTHUR: The fridge in the galley. I was just looking at it. I reckon if you turned it off and took the shelves out, you could get an otter in it!

DOUGLAS: Do you know what? I think you’re right. Gentlemen, we have hit our otter target!

ARTHUR: Hooray!

DOUGLAS: Martin, you were quite right: you can imagine a hundred otters.

MARTIN: Thank you.

ARTHUR: Oh, uh, by the way, chaps?

DOUGLAS: Yes?

ARTHUR: Sorry, it’s probably obvious, because I’m a clot, but, uh, when we land, how are we getting the piano from the airfield to the pub?

MARTIN: Oh.

DOUGLAS: Ah.



There is the squeaking of a piano protesting at being shoved and the grunting of shovers protesting at shoving it.


MARTIN: You’re doing really well, chaps. Nearly half way there.

DOUGLAS: Terrific.

MARTIN: I really wish I could push, too. It’s just this stupid ankle. I’m really, really grateful for all of your help.

DOUGLAS: You’re welcome.

ARTHUR: Yeah, you’re welcome!

DOUGLAS: He didn’t mean you.

ARTHUR: What, I helped!

DOUGLAS: You lost the address and locked the keys in the van. In what way, precisely, did you help?

ARTHUR: You wouldn’t be able to push the piano without me!

DOUGLAS: We wouldn’t have to push the piano without you!

ARTHUR: Oh. Well, I was the one who thought of putting an otter in the fridge!

DOUGLAS: True. In that respect, you were invaluable.

MARTIN: Chaps, we do only have ten minutes left, so if you can go any faster at all...?

The grunting increases. One hopes the speed does also.


ARTHUR: Yellow Car!

DOUGLAS and MARTIN: Shut up!



CAROLYN: And in racing green, Herc, honestly? I’d have more respect for you, if you’d gone for bright red. At least then you’re saying, “Yes, I’m having a midlife crisis – who wants to make something of it?” Racing green fools no-one!

HERC: If I may just interrupt the flow of ignorant bile for a moment, which house is it?

CAROLYN: Oh, here, by the tree. ( The large green badge of ageing male desperation purrs to a halt.) Well, thank you for today anyway.

HERC: My pleasure.

CAROLYN: Sorry if I was a bit, uh –

HERC: No, you weren’t at all.

CAROLYN: - soppy.

HERC: No, you weren’t at all.

CAROLYN: I - I didn’t always have an entirely awful time.

HERC: Good. I think. Nor did I.

CAROLYN: Right. Well, we’ll do this again, then?

HERC: Oh, good Lord, no! No, next time – opera!

CAROLYN: No. Absolutely not!

HERC: Yes. Absolutely yes! I endured your ridiculous dog and the gruesome sight of you inhaling a shoal of fish. Now it’s your turn to endure some of the most sublime music ever created by Man.

CAROLYN: I won’t like it!

HERC: I’m not remotely interested in whether you’ll like it. Also, you will like it.

CAROLYN: Well, I’ll let you know.



The piano is accompanied by panting and a doorbell’s ring.


MR HARDY: Yes?

MARTIN: Mr. Hardy? Icarus Removals.

MR HARDY: Ah, just on time! I was about to go. Bloody hell! What happened to those two?

DOUGLAS: We...have been pushing...your piano.

MR HARDY: What? That’s no way to treat it! Where’ve you been pushing it?

MARTIN: Only from our van.

MR HARDY: Where is your van?

MARTIN: We parked it round the corner.

MR HARDY: Why would you –

MARTIN: So if you’d care to sign here, sir –

MR HARDY: Hold your horses! Let’s take a look at it.

MARTIN: Of course.

MR HARDY: Uhuh, yes, that’s fine. Let’s just check in here. (He lifts the lid and plays a few notes.) Oh.

MARTIN: Everything all right?

MR HARDY: Well, yes, but what are these doing on the keys?

DOUGLAS: What?

The piano produces the tinkling of keys – not the ivory kind, but the little metal ones used for opening doors.


ARTHUR: Douglas! The van keys!

DOUGLAS: Ah yes. Well, that’s good.

ARTHUR: You must have closed the lid on them, Douglas, when you finished playing to Mum.

DOUGLAS: So it seems. Still -

MARTIN: After Arthur gave them back to you.

ARTHUR: Like I said I gave them back to you.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

ARTHUR: Oh Douglas, you clot!

END CREDITS (AT A FRANTIC PACE)


DOUGLAS: ♪Up, down, flying around, looping the loop and defying the ground! They’re. All. Arthur –♪

ARTHUR: ♪Frightfully keen!♪

DOUGLAS: ♪Those magnificent men!♪

DOUGLAS and MARTIN: ♪Those magnificent men!♪

DOUGLAS, MARTIN and ARTHUR: ♪Those magnificent men in their flying machines!♪
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:52 am

[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]

DOUGLAS: Okay Martin, your turn.

MARTIN: Alright. I came through customs and all I had to declare was, um, jelly from New Delhi, a tunic from Munich, some maracas from Caracas and some… cattle from Seattle.

DOUGLAS: Some cattle?

MARTIN: Yes, why not?

DOUGLAS: No, fine, big plane.

MARTIN: Okay, I came through customs, and all I had—

[beeping]

DOUGLAS: That’s odd. We’re here. Carolyn and Arthur are in the cabin. Who else knows that number?

MARTIN: No one.

DOUGLAS: Hello? MJN Air. Is that God?

HERC: Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.

DOUGLAS: Oh, hello, Hercules.

HERC: Hello, Douglas. Call me Herc.

DOUGLAS: Did you want anything in particular… Herc?

HERC: I did, actually, yes. Is—is Carolyn around?

DOUGLAS: She’s around in the sense that she’s in the cabin, doing her job, just as we are in the flight deck rather busy doing ours.

HERC: Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt at a crucial stage in a word game?

MARTIN: I—I’ll get her for you.

HERC: No, no, no, it’s alright. If you could just pass on a message—turns out Friday is better than Saturday for the opera so I’ll pick her up at one.

DOUGLAS: Yes, of course, sir. Anything else we can do for you? Wish your Auntie Edna a happy birthday? Tell your bookie to put a fiver each way on Gentleman Joe? Because we are, of course, essentially an airborne secretarial service.

MARTIN: Will do, Herc. It’s no trouble at all.

HERC: Thank you, Martin.

[call ends]

DOUGLAS: There’s no point toadying to him. He’s not going to get you a job at Cal Air.

MARTIN: I’m not toadying; I like him. Why don’t you?

DOUGLAS: I’ve known him longer than you, that’s why.

MARTIN: And?

DOUGLAS: And he’s a smooth-talking old smarmpot who thinks he’s the best thing to happen to the sky since rainbows.

MARTIN: No wonder you don’t like him, then.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

MARTIN: He’s nicking your act.

* * *


DOUGLAS: Okay, Carolyn, let’s try it without the camera first. Are you ready?

CAROLYN: Yes

DOUGLAS: Alright. Go.

CAROLYN: [stiffly] Hello. It is my very great pleasure to welcome you aboard—

ARTHUR: Action!

DOUGLAS: Thank you, Arthur. It’s usual, in fact, to shout that before the actor begins speaking.

ARTHUR: Oh, sorry, I was confused by you saying ‘go’. And then I thought I’d better say it anyway, you know, to be on the safe side.

DOUGLAS: Let’s try again. Arthur, ready to say ‘action’?

ARTHUR: Yup!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, ready to go?

CAROLYN: Get on with it.

DOUGLAS: Arthur, go

ARTHUR: Action!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, go.

CAROLYN: [stiffly] Hello. It is my very great pleasure today to welcome you all aboard this MJN Air flight.

DOUGLAS: May I stop you there? Try to remember you’re the owner of an airline welcoming your passengers, not a monarch addressing her subjects.

CAROLYN: I fail to see the distinction.

DOUGLAS: Even so, perhaps you could try it just a touch less like Queen Victoria recording an answerphone greeting. I mean, you might even try risking a smile. …Ah. Do you have anything less… sharky?

CAROLYN: We know you have a wide choice of airlines and we’re delighted you’ve chosen MJN.

DOUGLAS: Delighted, and baffled.

CAROLYN: Your safety today is our paramount concern.

ARTHUR: What’s ‘paramount’?

DOUGLAS: Biggest.

ARTHUR: Right

CAROLYN: So, please pay attention to this safety demonstration even if you’re a frequent flier, as aircraft may vary.

DOUGLAS: This one especially. From flight to flight, sometimes.

ARTHUR: And then I do the safety demonstration.

CAROLYN: Not yet! As owner and manager of MJN Air—

[sound of a door opening]

MARTIN: Hello.

CAROLYN: As owner and manager of MJN Air, my first priority is to ensure you have a comfortable and enjoyable flight.

MARTIN: Is it? Because that hasn’t really been coming across. What’s going on?

CAROLYN: Mr. Alyahkin has decreed from his dacha that MJN should have a pre-flight film. He said it would make us look more like a real airline. I pretended not to know what he meant. So, Arthur’s doing his safety demonstration.

ARTHUR: But on film! Like in a film!

CAROLYN: And I’m doing a welcome message.

MARTIN: Arthur’s doing the safety demo?

ARTHUR: Yeah!

CAROLYN: Yes, he is! Why shouldn’t he?

DOUGLAS: Arthur does have a rather freeform approach to his art.

ARTHUR: Ooh, we could do it like a disaster movie.

DOUGLAS: …For instance.

MARTIN: Surely you should do that one, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: No, I should not.

DOUGLAS: That was the original plan. In fact, we did a trial run this morning, but watching it back, Carolyn was worried she looked rather ridiculous.

MARTIN: Oh—oh—oh I’m sure you didn’t.

DOUGLAS: Oh, she did. Utterly ridiculous. I didn’t say she wasn’t right to be worried.

CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: There was a particularly arresting moment when she was in a fully inflated yellow life jacket demonstrating how to use a whistle.

[MARTIN chortles]

CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: She looked like a musical grapefruit.

CAROLYN: That will do!

MARTIN: Carolyn, I really feel I ought to do the welcome message. I mean, after all, I am the captain. People want to hear from the captain. They find it reassuring.

CAROLYN: Martin, when has anyone found you reassuring?

MARTIN: That’s not fair!

CAROLYN: Look, I’m sorry, but this needs to be calm, relaxed, and authoritative. None of which, I’m afraid, are qualities for which you are famous.

DOUGLAS: Mind you, they’re terribly hard qualities to find.

MARTIN: I am calm! I’m very, very calm. And authoritative. And—and—uh, the other one. What was the other one? I can do that, as well, whatever it was.

DOUGLAS: Relaxed?

MARTIN: [not relaxed] Yes! I’m very relaxed!

CAROLYN: Alright, give it your best shot.

MARTIN: What, now?

CAROLYN: Practice run. Fade up on Captain Martin Crieff at the controls. He turns to the camera engagingly and says—

MARTIN: I’m not ready!

CAROLYN: And blackout.

MARTIN: No.

CAROLYN: Thank you Martin. We’ll let you know.

MARTIN: No, no, no, wait, wait wait. Okay. I’m ready now.

CAROLYN: Okay. Go.

MARTIN: Hello. Welcome to MJN Air. M-my name is Captain Martin Crieff. Though that doesn’t matter. It’s all very informal here. Just call me Martin. Well, in—in the context of this video, anyway. If you actually see me in person it’s probably best that you do call me Captain Crieff. Or just captain. Just protocol, I’m afraid. Um, if it was up to me, you could call me… Marty. …No, no, actually, no, no, let’s not confuse things. Definitely don’t ever call me Marty. Right. So. To recap: hello, I am Captain Martin Captain—Captain Crieff, Crieff, I mean! Can I start again?

DOUGLAS: You old perfectionist, you.

[MARTIN sighs]

ARTHUR: I thought it was great.

CAROLYN: You think everything’s great.

DOUGLAS: To be fair, Carolyn, he was no worse than you.

CAROLYN: I know. Alright. I was hoping to avoid this but let us bow to the inevitable. Douglas, you can do it.

MARTIN: Oh, Carolyn, nooo!

CAROLYN: I don’t like it either, Martin, but since we have a pilot who sounds like Stephen Fry’s favorite uncle, we might as well use him. Go on then, Douglas. Do your stuff.

DOUGLAS: Um. No, thank you.

CAROLYN: What?

DOUGLAS: I’d rather not.

CAROLYN: You’d rather not? But surely, this combines your twin passions: scoring off Martin, and the sound of your own voice.

DOUGLAS: Oh, how little you know me. You see, my secret sorrow, Carolyn, is that I suffer from a quite crippling lack of self-confidence.

CAROLYN: Do you now?

DOUGLAS: Absolutely. It is my curse.

MARTIN: Well that’s settled then. I’ll do it.

CAROLYN: No, you won’t. So. I can’t do it, Martin shouldn’t it, and Douglas won’t do it. Great.

ARTHUR: Shall I do it?

MARTIN, DOUGLAS, and CAROLYN: No!

* * *


ARTHUR: Hang on, Douglas. I’ve dropped it again.

DOUGLAS: You see now why I’m carrying the video camera and you’re carrying the lifejacket?

ARTHUR: Yeah, fair enough. …Douglas, are you really not going to do the welcome speech?

DOUGLAS: It would seem not.

ARTHUR: Because I think you’re being hard on yourself. I think you might be quite good at it if you tried.

DOUGLAS: Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur.

ARTHUR: No, no, I mean it. I really—

DOUGLAS: Of course I should do it. I would be superb. [assumes stereotypical announcer voice] Welcome to MJN Air, putting the excitement back into air travel. Sometimes, too much so.

ARTHUR: Ooh, yeah, you are. You sound just like one of those guys who does that. Brilliant. Let’s go tell mum.

DOUGLAS: Not so fast, man cub. If Martin knows I want to do it, he’ll put up a fight. A fight I would win, naturally, but why bother? Whereas if I have to be persuaded to do it, I can get a quid pro quo.

ARTHUR: What’s ‘quid pro quo’?

DOUGLAS: Something in return.

ARTHUR: Right. Like what?

DOUGLAS: Do you know, I haven’t even decided yet. Right. Into the plane, Garbo; it’s time for your close up.

* * *


MARTIN: [practicing, with increasing frustration] Hello, I’m Captain Martin Crieff. Hello. My name is Captain Martin Crieff. [sound of a door opening] This is Captain Martin Crieff. My name’s Captain Martin Crieff. [MARTIN sighs]

DOUGLAS: Hello. I’m looking for a Captain Martin Crieff. Have you seen him?

MARTIN: Why can’t I make it sound authoritative?

ARTHUR: Hi, Skip! We’ve come to film my bit. On location.

MARTIN: This is Captain Martin Crieff spea—I think it’s my name.

ARTHUR: That means in the actual place the thing is meant to be.

DOUGLAS: You’re recording a demo for Carolyn, are you?

ARTHUR: So in this case, because the scene is set in a plane, we’re doing it in the plane.

MARTIN: Yeah. Martin. Martin. It’s just not a captain’s name. Martin.

ARTHUR: Rather than building a set. Which we can’t afford, apparently.

DOUGLAS: What’s a captain name?

MARTIN: Well, yours, for instance. Big surprise. [smarmily] ‘This is Captain Douglas Richardson.’ You see? It sounds much better.

DOUGLAS: It does sound rather good.

MARTIN: Captain duh-duh-DUH-duh-duh. That’s what you need. Not Captain duh-duh-dhfff.

CAROLYN: Alright, studio. Are we ready? Camera in position, lighting rigged?

DOUGLAS: In as much as I’m pointing the camera at him and I’ve turned the lights on, yes.

CAROLYN: Ready, Arthur? …Oh, I see the hat’s back.

ARTHUR: The hat is paramount.

DOUGLAS: It’s certainly biggest. …Alright, Arthur, in your own time.

ARTHUR: …Who’s saying ‘action’?

DOUGLAS: You can say action.

ARTHUR: Action! …

DOUGLAS: And go.

ARTHUR: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Or good morning, if it’s the morning when you watch this. Or hello, if it’s, well, anytime. Hello. Uh, my name is Arthur, and it’s my pleasure to be being your cabin crew today unless it’s mum. If—if mum’s being your cabin crew today, then it’s her pleasure to be being it, and it’s my displeasure not to be. But at least I’m here, on the video, so it’s a little bit me, as well, and I’m pleased about that.

DOUGLAS: Very good, Arthur. An excellent start. Shall we though stick to the version in the script for now?

ARTHUR: Oh, yes, okay. Uh, what was that again?

DOUGLAS: ‘Hello’.

ARTHUR: Right. Yes. Hang on, just let me practice. [running through a litany of weird, unnatural voices] Hello. Hello. Na—he— Hello. Hello! Hello…

DOUGLAS: Carolyn, you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to do this yourself?

CAROLYN: Yes—

ARTHUR: HELLO!

DOUGLAS: Fair enough. I’m sure that’s a wise decision.

CAROLYN: Well, you’re the one who said I look stupid in that lifejacket.

DOUGLAS: I did, and you do, especially blowing that whistle. Which I’ve never understood why you have to do, by the way. Frankly, anyone who needs the operation of a whistle explained to them deserves to drown. Anyway, yes, you look absolutely ludicrous but on the other hand, the alternative—

ARTHUR: HELLOOO!

CAROLYN: The alternative will be fine when he’s had a bit of practice.

DOUGLAS: If you say so. Okay, Arthur, let’s try the next bit.

ARTHUR: Okay.

DOUGLAS: Action, and also go.

ARTHUR: Right. Your seatbelt is fastened, adjusted, and unfastened like this. [clattering noises] Hang on. Oh, no. Like—sorry, it‘s different when you’re not wearing it. Ah. Anyway, w-w-what should happen is you put the metal square bit into the metal box of matches bit until it goes click. No, no. It’s more of a kkkkch [like the sound of Velcro] No, no. It’s a [ARTHUR makes a tongue click]. No. That’s a dolphin. If it makes a noise like a dolphin I don’t know what you’ve done. Now. Your nearest exit, which may be behind you, is being pointed out by a member of the cabin crew. Probably me. Ah, the other me. The real me. Look at the real me. Now look back at the me me. I mean this me. Me. The me that’s talking. If the other me’s talking as well, then shut up, me! This is my bit!

CAROLYN: Fine! Fine! I will do it.

DOUGLAS: Maybe you’re right. So, you’ll do the safety demo and the welcome, then? Will you do one in disguise, or is the idea that you’re identical twins?

CAROLYN: No, obviously you’ll have to do the welcome.

DOUGLAS: Well, as I say, the debilitating shyness—ah, anyway, changing the subject abruptly and completely, where are we flying next?

CAROLYN: Uh… Rotterdam.

DOUGLAS: Oh, Rotterdam. Lovely place. Awfully near Spa.

CAROLYN: Where?

DOUGLAS: Spa. Lovely town in Belgium, about 200 miles away. Gave its name to the, ah, well, the spa, logically enough. And this weekend, I believe, the site of the Belgium Grand Prix. In fact, Carolyn, a thought has just occurred to me. Would you mind if I nipped over to see it while we’re there?

CAROLYN: Well, you can if you’d like, but I don’t see how you’re going to ‘nip’ 200 miles and back.

DOUGLAS: No. I suppose to do that I’d require some kind of, ah, I don’t know, flying machine.

CAROLYN: What? No! Absolutely not! You’re not borrowing Gertie to fly yourself to the Grand Prix.

DOUGLAS: That’s a shame, because it did occur to me that the excitement of the Grand Prix might be just the thing to put some fire in my belly and help me overcome my terrible fear of cameras.

CAROLYN: Ooh, I see. Not content with exacting a quid pro quo for things you don’t want to do, you’re now demanding them for things you do.

DOUGLAS: I don’t know what you mean.

CAROLYN: Well I’m damned if I’m bribing you to do something you want to do anyway.

DOUGLAS: Fine.

CAROLYN: Fine.

* * *


MARTIN: Good morning, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Martin, you’re early. We’re not going to Rotterdam until two.

MARTIN: I know, but I—I know you want to do that film today and I thought you might want to listen to this first.

CAROLYN: Martin—

MARTIN: I spent the whole of yesterday recording it on my phone and I think you’ll agree it’s pretty much exactly what you asked for: calm, authoritative, relaxed. Listen: [beep]

[recording plays] [MARTIN sounds artificial and smarmy] Hi, guys. My name’s Martin Crieff, the captain, and I’m the guy in charge of flying you today. On behalf of the rest of the guys on my team, and the guys back the ground, let me give you guys one hell of a big MJN welcome onboard today. Now, before we go right ahead and fly some plane, I’m going to ask you to pay attention to this short safety demonstration. Hey, I know guys. Big yawn, eh? Heh. But you know what? It might just save your life. [breaking character] A-a-a-although, of course, an air accident is statistically incredibly unlikely. [regaining composure] Okay. See you on the flipside of the safety demonstration. Ciao! [recording ends]

CAROLYN: Goodness. That’s you being relaxed, is it?

MARTIN: Relaxed, but authoritative, like a—like a—like a cool teacher.

CAROLYN: I see. Well, sadly, Professor Fonz, the vacancy has been filled. Martin, could you come here a moment?

MARTIN: I—I am here.

CAROLYN: How then would you evaluate the chances that I am referring to you?

[the sound of a door opening]

BIG MARTIN: Hello. I’m Martin. I’m the captain. Good to meet you.

MARTIN: [horrified] Aaaah! No! I—I’M—what do you mean you’re the captain?

BIG MARTIN: Yeah, you must be the first officer. Nice to meet you.

MARTIN: No, I’m the captain.

BIG MARTIN: Oh. I thought I was the captain.

CAROLYN: Indeed, you are. Martin, Martin here is the real captain. Martin, Martin here is an actor. He will be playing the captain.

MARTIN: But—but he’s—he’s dressed as a pilot.

CAROLYN: I know! They stop at nothing, these actors.

MARTIN: But the uniform! Where did you get your uniform?

BIG MARTIN: Mrs. Knapp-Shappey supplied it.

CAROLYN: From a fancy dress shop, actually.

MARTIN: But it’s nicer than mine!

CAROLYN: I know. I’ll be going back there in future.

[sound of a door opening]

DOUGLAS: Morning, all. …Oh, hello.

BIG MARTIN: Hello. I’m Martin.

DOUGLAS: Goodness. What happened? Did you find a magic lamp?

MARTIN: I’m over here, Douglas.

CAROLYN: Martin is an actor, Douglas, whom I have hired to do the welcome.

DOUGLAS: Oh.

CAROLYN: So isn’t that sorted out rather cleverly by me, with no need for anyone to get a free trip to Belgium.

DOUGLAS: You know, actually, Carolyn, perhaps I could be persuaded—

CAROLYN: Right! The plan is we’ll rehearse your speech, Martin, in the flight deck on the ground, then we’ll take you with us to Rotterdam so we can film it actually in the air. Douglas, come and help me set up. Martin, put the kettle on. No, not you, Martin. Little Martin.

MARTIN: [makes a noise approximating the one a mouse makes when trod on] I’m not ‘Little Martin’!

CAROLYN: Douglas, heel.

[sound of a door opening]

BIG MARTIN: So, sorry, you’re really a pilot?

MARTIN: Yes! Yes, I really am. A captain.

BIG MARTIN: Right. Jolly good.

MARTIN: And you’re really not.

BIG MARTIN: Not what?

MARTIN: A pilot.

BIG MARTIN: [laughs] No, good heavens, no.

MARTIN: Because you really look like one.

BIG MARTIN: Do I? Is that a compliment?

MARTIN: I would give a year of my life to look like you.

BIG MARTIN: Oh. Right. Well, thank you.

MARTIN: And your name really is—

BIG MARTIN: Martin. Hello.

MARTIN: See, when you say it, somehow it works. What’s your surname?

BIG MARTIN: Davenport.

MARTIN: Martin Dav-en-port. ‘Good evening, this is Captain Martin Davenport.’ Oh, you’ve even got a duh-duh-DUH-duh-duh name!

BIG MARTIN: Sorry, what’ve I got?

MARTIN: You look more like a captain than me, you sound more like a captain than me, you’ve got a better uniform than me and a better name than me. You must be very pleased.

BIG MARTIN: I—I really just came here to do a job.

MARTIN: Look, just… as an experiment, if you were doing the-the Falaya approach into Nice with a 20-knot wind from the northeast, which runway would you use?

BIG MARTIN: I’ve really no idea.

MARTIN: Have a guess!

BIG MARTIN: Um, runway… B?

MARTIN: Runway B?! What’s that? That’s not a runway!

BIG MARTIN: Well, as I say—

MARTIN: There’s a 04 left or the 04 right.

BIG MARTIN: The 04 right?

MARTIN: No! Left! How can you not know that?

BIG MARTIN: Because I’m not a pilot!

MARTIN: Such a waste, such a terrible waste.

[sound of a door opening]

ARTHUR: Hi, chaps. Um, mum says are you ready for the rehearsal?

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

ARTHUR: [calling] Yeah, they’re ready.

MARTIN: How tall do you think he is?

DOUGLAS: Oh, Martin, I have no idea. 6’1”, 6’2”.

MARTIN: Yeah, perfect height—taller than most people but not weird-tall.

DOUGLAS: You’ve really got to let this go, you know.

[sound of a door opening]

CAROLYN: Alright, drivers. Are you ready to make movie magic? Or at least sit and watch whilst movie magic is made beside you? Come on in, Martin.

BIG MARTIN: Hello again.

DOUGLAS: Hello.

MARTIN: How tall are you, Martin?!

BIG MARTIN: Uh, 6’2”.

MARTIN: Heh! Told you so. Are you married?

BIG MARTIN: Yes.

MARTIN: Of course you are. Kids too, I expect.

BIG MARTIN: Yes, two.

MARTIN: Boy and a girl?

BIG MARTIN: How did you know?

MARTIN: [snappishly] Just a hunch!

CAROLYN: Alright. If we could save the rest of the creepy stalker quiz for later. Let’s get going. Ah, Little Martin, if you could clear the captain’s seat for Big Martin.

MARTIN: Seriously, Carolyn, I am NOT ‘Little Martin’!

CAROLYN: So you keep saying, but the tape measure tells a different tale.

DOUGLAS: You can take my seat, Martin.

CAROLYN: What? No! No, you stay where you are, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: No, I don’t think so. I am, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, terribly shy.

CAROLYN: Oh, don’t be so childish.

DOUGLAS: I’m not being childish, but if I can’t go to the Grand Prix, I’m not being in the film.

CAROLYN: Fine! Little Martin, it’s your lucky day. Your big break into the moving pictures. You sit in Douglas’s seat and face away from the camera.

MARTIN: In the first officer’s seat? I’m not a first officer. I’m a—

CAROLYN: Martin! Will you sit down now! [MARTIN sits] Thank you so much. So, Big Martin—

MARTIN: Please, Carolyn!

ARTHUR: We could call him Paramount Martin.

CAROLYN: What?

ARTHUR: Biggest.

CAROLYN: Fine, Paramount Martin. Now we’ll start with a couple of seconds of the two of you flying, then you turn in your seat and you say the lines.

BIG MARTIN: Okay. How do I look like I’m flying?

CAROLYN: You put your feet up, play some stupid word game, and gorge yourself on cheese.

BIG MARTIN: Uh—

CAROLYN: Ah, no, forgive me. I was being satirical. Just grab the control column and look pleased with yourself.

MARTIN: Of course, just a suggestion, but it might help if one of us was to say something to ATC? Just… request a weather report or something to give it atmosphere.

CAROLYN: Yes, alright. Paramount Martin, do that.

BIG MARTIN: Alright. What should I say?

MARTIN: Oh dear, don’t you know what to say?

CAROLYN: Martin, give him something to say.

MARTIN: Or I could just say it myself.

CAROLYN: Okay, fine, but keep it short. And, go.

MARTIN: Shanwick, Golf Tango India, requesting the weather at Reykjavík.

CAROLYN: And Paramount Martin, go!

BIG MARTIN: [with awkward, almost Shatner-esque cadence] Hello. And—and welcome. On the behalves of all of us. Here at M&M Air—Sorry! MJN. Air! We know you have a wide choice …of airlines. And we—uh, oh, uh, sorry, it’s gone. Um. Line?

DOUGLAS: Well, this is interesting.

BIG MARTIN: Is everything alright, do you think?

MARTIN: Aah, I’m sure it is.

BIG MARTIN: Why do you think she rushed out like that? And why did she take the other chap with her?

MARTIN: Don’t know, no idea, no idea at all. Mm… So, Martin, tell me, do you get a lot of work? Are you a busy actor?

BIG MARTIN: Well, not a lot of work. No, it’s—it’s all rather quiet at the moment, I think, for everyone.

MARTIN: Right, right. But you, you make a living?

BIG MARTIN: Well, not entirely from acting if I’m honest. I do a bit of taxi driving, too. On the side. And, to some extent, in the center.

MARTIN: I see. And have you always wanted to be an actor?

BIG MARTIN: Oh, always, always. Since I was five years old. Absolutely the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be. And it’s so frustrating when you know, without any doubt at all, what you were put on this Earth to do, and you just can’t seem to persuade anyone else.

MARTIN: I can imagine. So, um, how did Carolyn find you?

BIG MARTIN: I’m on this website. I don’t normally get anything through it, but this was amazing. She didn’t even ask me to audition.

MARTIN: Didn’t she? Fancy that. And—and, if you don’t mind me asking, how much is she paying you?

BIG MARTIN: Well. Actually, I agreed to waive my fee. Uh, you know, it’s a good cause, isn’t it?

MARTIN: What? MJN? No, we’re not a good cause. We’re a terrible cause.

BIG MARTIN: I just wanted to do some acting! No one ever lets me do any acting!

MARTIN: Listen, um, do you live in Fitton, Martin?

BIG MARTIN: Yes.

MARTIN: Do you want to go for a… drink sometime?

BIG MARTIN: Martin, look, I’m really sorry, I’m not…

MARTIN: [frantic] Oh, no! No, nor am I! Do you want to go for, you know, for a—for a—for a pint, uh, yeah? A pint of, um… bitter. Or, uh… or stout.

BIG MARTIN: Oooh, yes! Yes, yes, of course. I’d like that, Martin.

MARTIN: So would I, Martin.

* * *


CAROLYN: Alright, let’s get it over with. I need you to do the welcome.

DOUGLAS: I’ll do it, if I can go to the Grand Prix.

CAROLYN: You can’t go to the Grand Prix!

DOUGLAS: Then you have your choice of the Martins.

CAROLYN: Oh, alright. [sound of a door opening] You can—

HERC: Hello

CAROLYN: Herc! What are you doing here?

HERC: I’ve come to take you to the opera.

CAROLYN: That’s tomorrow.

HERC: No, didn’t you get my message?

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, forgetful old Martin.

CAROLYN: Hang on—Herc, say ‘hello, and welcome to MJN Air’.

DOUGLAS: What?

HERC: Hello, and welcome to MJN Air.

CAROLYN: Ah-ha.

DOUGLAS: No. Absolutely not.

CAROLYN: Herc, are you doing anything tonight?

HERC: Yes, I’m taking you to the opera.

CAROLYN: Well, I’m afraid you’re not doing that because I’m going to Rotterdam so I wonder—would you mind coming with me, popping on a fancy dress uniform and recording MJN’s welcome message?

DOUGLAS: Nooo!

HERC: Oh, why not? Sounds rather fun.

CAROLYN: Douglas unfortunately can’t do it because of his crippling shyness.

HERC: Oh, how sad. If only we could give the poor man the gift of self-confidence.

DOUGLAS: You’ve made your point, Carolyn, I’ll do it. I’m happy to do it. Please.

CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas, but actually, I think I prefer Herc’s voice.

DOUGLAS: What?! Oh, rubbish. [smoothly] We hope you have a pleasant flight.

HERC: [even more smoothly] We do hope you relax and enjoy your flight.

DOUGLAS: [smooth like 25 year old Talisker] Please, do relax and have an absolutely splendid flight.

HERC: [smooth like butter on a hot scone] You simply must have the most awfully lovely, super-scrumptious flight.

CAROLYN: Alright! Stop, both of you, before I drown in syrup. Douglas, if I were to be gracious enough to allow you the favor of providing the MJN welcome message, what is my quid pro quo?

DOUGLAS: Fine, I won’t go to the Grand Prix.

CAROLYN: Ah, but you forget—you were never going to the Grand Prix. So what are you going to do for me?

* * *


CAROLYN: Alright, everybody ready? I hereby present MJN Air’s first and please, God, last major motion picture. Arthur, press play.

ARTHUR: Okay. Action!

[tape rolls with relaxing soft classical score]

DOUGLAS on film: Hello. I’m First Officer Richardson. Thank you for choosing MJN Air. We wish you a peaceful and comfortable flight. Your security is very important to us, so please watch the following safety demonstration carefully, even if you are a frequent flier.

CAROLYN: And who better to take us through it than—

[music changes to soft jazz elevator music]

DOUGLAS on film: Hello. I’m your steward, Dougie.

[ALL but Douglas cheer]

DOUGLAS: Oh, god.

DOUGLAS on film: I’m the first officer’s identical twin brother. MJN Air: proud to be a family business. Before we take off, please give me your full attention as I demonstrate the safety procedures aboard this aircraft.

MARTIN: [laughing] You definitely have our full attention, I promise you that.

ARTHUR: You look great in my uniform, Douglas. Even the hat.

MARTIN: Especially the hat!

CAROLYN: shh! We’re missing it.

DOUGLAS on film: When instructed, place your lifejacket over your head, pass the tapes around your waist, and tie securely in a double bow at your side.

CAROLYN: [laughing] What’s that fruit I’m thinking of? Like a grapefruit, but even bigger and more yellow.

MARTIN: [giggling] A melon!

DOUGLAS on film: …outside the aircraft. To inflate, pull the red toggle sharply. [pneumatic sound of the lifejacket inflating]

ALL but Douglas: Hurray!

CAROLYN: Beautifully done! Don’t you agree, Herc?

HERC: Oh, absolutely. Couldn’t have done it better myself. And under no circumstances would have tried.

DOUGLAS: Yes, can we turn it off now?

CAROLYN: Most certainly not. This is the best bit.

DOUGLAS on film: There is also a light and a whistle for attracting attention.

CAROLYN: But Dougie, I don’t understand. How does the whistle work?

[whistle sounds on the tape]

[ALL but Douglas cheer.]
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Jue Oct 11, 2012 9:54 am

[Tienes que estar registrado y conectado para ver este vínculo]

(bing bong)

CAROLYN: Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be landing in St Petersburg. We do hope you enjoyed your visit to Saint-Tropez, and to those of you who managed to find a luxury yacht to your liking, we rejoice at your success. And to those of you who remain tragically un-be-yachted, our hearts go out to you at this difficult time. Oh and because someone asked me earlier – let me assure you that the cabin crew like to think of ourselves as your hosts, and would be insulted to be offered a tip.

(bing bong)

DOUGLAS: The pilots however, like to think of themselves as your pilots. Please slide your insults under the flight deck door.

-----------------------------OPENING CREDITS – This week, St Petersburg! -----------------------------

(flight deck door opening)

DOUGLAS: Exterior checks completed.

MARTIN: That was very quick.

DOUGLAS: Yes. Well at 6am in St Petersburg in February, one does not tend to dawdle. It’s definitely our plane and the wings are on it, that’ll do me. Now, Carolyn, can I have the keys to the drinks cupboard I need some vodka.

CAROLYN: Why certainly Douglas, the perfect pre-flight treat for a man who hasn’t drunk for a decade. And can I tempt you with a little heroin to follow?

DOUGLAS: Seriously Carolyn, it’s important.

MARTIN: What on earth do you need vodka for?

DOUGLAS: Well on the walk round, though brief, I did notice one small problem with the otherwise entirely airworthy plane.

MARTIN: Yes?

DOUGLAS: It has an Arthur stuck to the side of it.

MARTIN: What?

DOUGLAS: Apparently he couldn’t open the hold door with his thick gloves on, so he took one off. And now his hand is frozen to the door handle.

CAROLYN: Oh stupid boy. (she throws the keys to Douglas) Here.

------------------------------------------------------

(howling wind and footsteps)

ARTHUR: (breathlessly) Oh hello chaps! Glad you came back! Cold isn’t it?

CAROLYN: Why vodka Douglas? Can’t you use hot water?

DOUGLAS: If you want to encase his hand in ice, yes. Alcohol has a much lower freezing point, so you can use it as a lubricant.

(Douglas pours vodka over Arthur’s hand)

DOUGLAS: There you go Arthur.

ARTHUR: Ohh, thank you Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Now put your glove back on and come inside.

CAROLYN: Douglas, this is our best Stolichnaya.

DOUGLAS: Mmm, doesn’t it smell good?

ARTHUR: (spoken through a mouthful of keys) Err, Douglas? Small problem. I was trying to put my glove back on so I just-

DOUGLAS: Put the keys in your mouth. Of course you did. Carolyn, vodka please.

------------------------

MARTIN: Post take off checks complete.

DOUGLAS: Thank you Martin. (beep to open intercom) How is Arthur?

CAROLYN: (over intercom) Sore lipped and accidentally drunk.

ARTHUR: (indistinctly, in background) Should just stop being hurting now!

CAROLYN: (over intercom) I can see the next three hours are going to fly by on gilded wings.

DOUGLAS: Have fun. (beep to terminate intercom) Alright then Martin – rhyming journeys.

MARTIN: Hmm?

DOUGLAS: Vienna to Sienna.

MARTIN: Oh right. Okay! (long pause) Er ...

DOUGLAS: Poole to Goole.

MARTIN: Good one! Er ...

DOUGLAS: Aruba to Cuba.

MARTIN: Oh give me a chance! Oh, York to New York!

DOUGLAS: Yes. Ish. Or, York to Cork.

MARTIN: Oh damn, alright. Um, Paris to ... (mumbles) Baris, Caris, Daris, Faris ... oh oh, how about Peterborough to –

(fizzly, electric sounds, alarm beeping)

MARTIN: Argh!

DOUGLAS: Christ! Engine, fire number two engine.

MARTIN: Oh God er, engine fire check list number two engine.

DOUGLAS: Engine fire check list number two engine Captain. Number two thrust lever?

MARTIN: Yes.

DOUGLAS: Closed. Number two fuel control switch?

MARTIN: Yes, yes!

DOUGLAS: Number two fuel control switch to cut off, number two fire handle check?

MARTIN: Yes!

DOUGLAS: Number two fire handle pull, number one extinguisher fired, stopwatch started, fire bell cancel.

MARTIN: (over sat comm) Mayday mayday, Golf, Echo, Romeo, Tango, India – suspected bird strike, we have one engine on fire. Request immediate return and priority landing St Petersburg.

RUSSIAN ATC: Golf Tango India, roger your mayday, continue as cleared contact Pulkovo approach one two four decimal two.

MARTIN: Roger, one two four decimal two.

RUSSIAN ATC: Good luck.

DOUGLAS: Fire is out Captain. One two four decimal two is selected. Martin, do you want me to land it?

MARTIN: No, I’ll do it.

DOUGLAS: Okay.

-----------------------

(background chattering of an airport lounge)

ARTHUR: Here you are Skip – nice hot cup of coffee.

MARTIN: (sighs and slurps) Oh, it’s cold.

ARTHUR: Nice cup of coffee.

MARTIN: It’s horrible!

ARTHUR: Cup of coffee.

MARTIN: I’m not even sure it is coffee.

ARTHUR: Cup. How’re you feeling?

MARTIN: Feeling? Feeling -I’m feeling – feeling fine, why- why do you ask, I’m absolutely fine, fine. How, er, how, how’re you, sobered up? Have you?

ARTHUR: Yeah, I have actually. It turns out a really good cure for being drunk is when you’re on a plane and then an engine explodes and you think you’re gonna die.

MARTIN: Should write in to the British Medical Journal.

ARTHUR: We didn’t die though did we?

MARTIN: No. No, no we didn’t.

ARTHUR: Because you landed us. Brilliantly.

MARTIN: Wasn’t bad was it?

ARTHUR: It was amazing! Mum and me thought Douglas must have done it!

MARTIN: Oh thanks a lot.

ARTHUR: No but I mean, it was like he did it, but you did it!

MARTIN: Oh all right. Thank you.

(Douglas and Carolyn approaching)

DOUGLAS: Martin.

MARTIN: Hello, what’s the news?

CAROLYN: Bird strike, as we thought.

DOUGLAS: A big one, probably a goose.

ARTHUR: Oh no, is it all right?

DOUGLAS: What, the goose? Yes Arthur, it’s fine. It’ll have a bit of a headache, but a hell of a story for the goslings.

ARTHUR: Phew.

CAROLYN: The engine however, is a write off.

MARTIN: Yes, I thought it might be when I noticed that it was on fire. How much?

CAROLYN: What to replace it? Well, about a quarter of a million pounds.

MARTIN: (whistles) That’s a lot.

CAROLYN: It is a lot isn’t it, I think it definitely qualifies as “a lot.”

MARTIN: I- I mean presumably we’re insured?

CAROLYN: Oh yes, up to the hilt, for public and passenger liability, so should the goose’s lawyers ever track us down and demand restitution we could pay them off without a second thought. The actual plane though, that’s down to me.

ARTHUR: Hey, Douglas said the goose was all right!

CAROLYN: Yes well he lied. Neither – neither goose nor Gertie are all right. So I’m afraid - this is it boys. You know how I’m always saying one little thing could be the end of MJN Air, well this is one absolutely massive thing. And – it’s all over.

ARTHUR: But – can’t we sell Gertie?

CAROLYN: Well I hope so, we’re going to have to.

ARTHUR: Ah, okay. And then just buy another plane with the money.

CAROLYN: No Arthur, if we’re very lucky indeed we might be able to sell Gertie, and with the money buy an ice cream van.

ARTHUR: Wooooow.

CAROLYN: Not seriously. Oh go and get us all coffee.

ARTHUR: Righto.

(Arthur leaves)

MARTIN: I’m - I’m sorry Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Well, we had a longer run than anyone expected. And if we had to go at least this is landing on Mayfair with a hotel.

DOUGLAS: So what now, can we help?

CAROLYN: I don’t know. I suppose we’ll have to find a way of selling an ancient, decrepit old plane that’s just been badly beaten in a fight with a goose. You got any ideas?

MARTIN: Don’t suppose you could sell it for parts?

DOUGLAS: Or – there’s always-

CAROLYN: No.

DOUGLAS: Really?

CAROLYN: He’s not having it.

DOUGLAS: He really wants it.

CAROLYN: That is exactly why he’s not having it. I am not giving him the satisfaction.

MARTIN: Who?

DOUGLAS: Every year Carolyn gets a call from her ex-husband and former owner of Gertie, trying to persuade her to let him buy it back off her.

MARTIN: Every year, why does he want it so much?

CAROLYN: He is unbearably rich. Used to be his favourite toy and he hated that I got it in the divorce. It’s not that he wants it, he just wants me not to have it.

DOUGLAS: Well the thing is Carolyn, at the moment, you also want you not to have it.

(Arthur returning)

ARTHUR: Coffees? Not have what?

CAROLYN: Gertie.

ARTHUR: Ah! Are you still worrying about that?

DOUGLAS: It’s – it’s still nagging at the back of our minds Arthur, yes.

CAROLYN: Arthur, listen to me – I’m serious. We are going to have to sell Gertie. Straight away. And we won’t be able to buy another plane. So this is the end of MJN Air.

ARTHUR: Oh right. Okay!

CAROLYN: What do you mean “okay”?! This really is going to happen, do you understand that?

ARTHUR: Yeah, but – it won’t though, will it?

CAROLYN: Why not?

ARTHUR: Well Douglas will sort it out.

CAROLYN: How?

ARTHUR: I dunno! He’ll think of something clever. Like he always does.

CAROLYN: Yes but this isn’t just a little fiddle over a bottle of wine or a bunch of orchids. It’s a quarter of a million pounds! I really don’t think he will this time.

ARTHUR: Yes he will.

DOUGLAS: Arthur, I won’t! Look, no one has a higher opinion of me than I do, but even I simply do not have the power to conjure up a quarter of a million pounds from nowhere!

CAROLYN: So, there’s nothing else for it is there?

DOUGLAS: I don’t think so. Sorry. And I’ve had to put her in a heated hangar, so the longer we wait the more expensive it gets.

CAROLYN: Fine. I’ll call him.

MARTIN: Now? It’s still five in the morning in Britain.

CAROLYN: Ohhhh yes, well that’s something.

(Carolyn leaves)

ARTHUR: Who’s she calling?

DOUGLAS: Your dad.

ARTHUR: (slightly panicky) What? Dad? Why?

MARTIN: Well we think he’s our best chance of selling Gertie.

ARTHUR: No! No, h-he can’t have Gertie!

DOUGLAS: Why not?

ARTHUR: H-he just shouldn’t have her! And anyway, then we wouldn’t have her.

DOUGLAS: Arthur, we keep telling you – we can’t afford to fix her.

ARTHUR: Yes but I keep telling you, you’ll do something clever and it’ll be all right.

MARTIN: What’s he like then, Mr Shappey?

DOUGLAS: I don’t know, I’ve never met him either, what’s he like Arthur?

ARTHUR: Ooh he’s er ... he’s er ...he’s er ...

DOUGLAS: Good lord Martin, I think you’ve broken him.

ARTHUR: No, no, no it’s just that he’s er ...he’s er ...

DOUGLAS: I think – I think what we may be witnessing here is Arthur attempting to describe something with an adjective other than “brilliant.”

ARTHUR: Yeah, n-n-no I wouldn’t say he was b-b – I mean obviously everyone’s br- – no, he’s not brilliant. He’s er ...he’s alright.

MARTIN: God.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

MARTIN: He must be awful.

(Carolyn returning)

CAROLYN: I’ve spoken to him, he’s coming straight here.

MARTIN: What, now?

CAROLYN: Yes, he’s flying himself over in his private jet, he’ll be here in about three hours.

MARTIN: God, at least he’s keen.

CAROLYN: Oh yes he’s keen.

ARTHUR: Dad’s coming here? Now?

CAROLYN: Yes.

ARTHUR: (flustered) Oh, okay – right – okay – what shall I do? Shall I get him a present? What does he like? I’ll get him a present, ah, I’ll get something from duty free!

CAROLYN: You don’t need to get him a present Arthur-

ARTHUR: No, no, course not, stupid, stupid – although, I might anyway, er, just to be sure. A TOBLERONE! I can get him a Toblerone! Brilliant, problem solved, don’t panic, we’ll be fine, it’s all right, okay I’ll go and get one now!

MARTIN: But he won’t be here for three hours.

ARTHUR: Ah yeah, but still though – er, good to have it all ready, er, in advance, okay bye!

(Arthur leaves)

DOUGLAS: Good lord.

MARTIN: I’ve never seen him like that.

CAROLYN: That’s his dad for you. All right, you two scram as well, get some lunch on the company card.

MARTIN: Really?

CAROLYN: Well you did land a plane on one engine, that deserves a treat.

DOUGLAS: Excellent, well I think I saw a sushi place-

CAROLYN: No, I meant at the crew canteen, you can have sushi when you land it on no engines.

---------------------------------------

(clinking of cutlery)

MARTIN: Oh! I’ve got a good one.

DOUGLAS: Oh yes?

MARTIN: Yep. Lublin to Dublin.

DOUGLAS: Oooh. Close. I’m afraid it’s pronounced “Loob-lin.”

MARTIN: Oh for goodness’ sake. Loob-lin to Doob-lin?

DOUGLAS: You can have it if you like.

MARTIN: No.

DOUGLAS: Lisbon to Brisbane?

MARTIN: Yes very good. Er ... okay, Kent to – now you’ll have to trust me but I’m pretty sure there’s a place near where we used to camp in Wales called (chokey, Welsh sound)-ent.

DOUGLAS: Fair enough. Kent to Cllrent. And of course we could go via Brent. And Gwent. And Stoke-on-Trent.

MARTIN: Oh yes all right. How was your soggy brown thing?

DOUGLAS: It lived up to its promise. How was your bowl of grey?

MARTIN: About the same. (pause) Do you think she’s really gonna sell it to him?

DOUGLAS: I think she’d better, no one else is going to buy it.

MARTIN: Right so – you’re actually not-

DOUGLAS: What?

MARTIN: Nothing. Just – you really don’t have a secret plan up your sleeve.

DOUGLAS: Oh Martin, not you as well, no I really don’t!

MARTIN: No, no, no, I didn’t think you did, was just checking.

(Two men approaching)

GORDON: ‘Scuse us! Are these taken?

MARTIN: Er, no, no.

GORDON: Ah, great, thanks mate. (sits down) I’m Gordon, this is Tommo.

TOMMO: Alright.

DOUGLAS: Martin, Douglas.

GORDON: Nice to meet you. You flying in or flying out?

MARTIN: Ah well, er, neither really, we’re sort of staying put.

GORDON: Ah right. What for?

DOUGLAS: Mainly the cuisine.

GORDON: Ah! Oh God yeah – I’m pretty sure this steak remembers Stalin!

MARTIN: How about you?

GORDON: Ah, just got in. Bloody hell, the crosswind hey – hairiest landing we’ve had for years, wasn’t it Tommo?

TOMMO: Yep.

GORDON: So, did you-

(Carolyn approaches)

CAROLYN: Well, this is cosy! Are we all getting on terribly well?

MARTIN: Oh hello Carolyn, er, this is Gordon-

CAROLYN: Yes, we’ve met before in fact. Hello Gordon, how necessary to see you.

MARTIN: Ohhhh.

GORDON: Hi there Caro. Are these boys your crew then? Hi guys, Gordon Shappey-

CAROLYN: Don’t shake his hand!

DOUGLAS: Carolyn!

CAROLYN: Fine, all right!

GORDON: Good to meet you. So, you must be Captain Crieff!

MARTIN: No I – yes! How did you know?

GORDON: Well, a Captain’s hat is a bit of a giveaway.

DOUGLAS: You’d be surprised.

GORDON: Alright Carolyn, this is Tom, he’s my chief engineer.

TOMMO: Alright.

GORDON: I brought him and his boys with me so they could have a look over the old girl.

CAROLYN: Absolutely not.

GORDON: Well you know they kind of have to so I know exactly what’s wrong with her.

CAROLYN: The only thing wrong with her, as I told you on the phone, is that we used one of her engines to make a goose smoothie. Otherwise she is fine.

GORDON: I – I mean I can’t really buy a plane without Tommo giving it the once over can I?

TOMMO: Nope.

DOUGLAS: Carolyn that is reasonable.

CAROLYN: Fine, if you must.

GORDON: Great. Okay so I’ll give you a call in a few hours when they’re done, so let’s take a look at the poor old girl. You ready Tommo?

TOMMO: Yep.

DOUGLAS: Follow me gentlemen.

(Douglas, Gordon and Tommo leave.)

MARTIN: Well he didn’t seem too bad.

CAROLYN: Oh, didn’t he? You took a shine to him did you Martin?

MARTIN: No, no, not at all no – he didn’t seem too bad, but, he obviously is. Awful.

------------------

DOUGLAS: Guildford to Ilford.

MARTIN: Hong Kong to ... itself?

DOUGLAS: You mean, from Hong, to Kong?

MARTIN: Oh no, forget it. (Carolyn approaches) Oh, hello Carolyn! Any news?

CAROLYN: No.

MARTIN: What are they doing out there?

DOUGLAS: I can’t imagine, there’s simply not enough engineering in Gertie to spend four hours looking at. Apart from the engine she’s mostly gaffer tape and string.

ARTHUR: Hi guys.

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, still no luck?

CAROLYN: What’s the matter?

DOUGLAS: Alas, an exhaustive search of St Petersburg airport duty free has yet to turn up anything in the shape of a Toblerone.

ARTHUR: Triangular.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

ARTHUR: I don’t understand it. I’ve never been to an airport that didn’t have Toblerones. I mean okay, sometimes they don’t have the white ones or the black ones, but not even to have the normal ones!

MARTIN: So Arthur, I’ve just realised – you’re half Australian.

ARTHUR: Yeah!

CAROLYN: Technically.

DOUGLAS: That certainly explains a lot about the relentless cheeriness.

ARTHUR: (in an accent so thick you could stand a spoon in it) And it’s also why I can do such a good Australian accent!

DOUGLAS: Two things Arthur: Australian accents aren’t genetic, and you can’t do one.

ARTHUR: (“Australian”) Well you’re entitled to your opinion sport!

CAROLYN: Arthur!

ARTHUR: Sorry! Also it’s good because it means I can play cricket for either England or Australia, whichever need me.

MARTIN: (incredulous) Can you play cricket?

ARTHUR: Don’t know, I’ve never tried.

DOUGLAS: Arthur, you’re almost thirty, don’t you think you’re leaving it a little late to embark upon your career as an international sportsman?

ARTHUR: Not really! Shane Warne is forty one.

MARTIN: Yes but he’s retired. I mean that’s like saying Geoffrey Boycott’s in his seventies.

ARTHUR: Is he? Well there you are then.

(mobile phone ringing)

CAROLYN: Aha! Gordon’s finally finished, he’ll meet us in the office in half an hour.

ARTHUR: Oh no I still haven’t got him anything!

CAROLYN: Arthur you really don’t need to-

ARTHUR: (running away) Yeah, I’ll meet you there!

----------------

CAROLYN: Ready?

MARTIN: We’re ready.

DOUGLAS: Yes.

CAROLYN: Arthur?

ARTHUR: (whimpery and indistinct) Yeah.

CAROLYN: All right. (calls) You can come in!

(door opening)

GORDON: Hi guys. Hello Arthur.

ARTHUR: HI! Hi. Hi. Er, Dad. (wheezy laugh) Ah, that’s not funny, that’s who you are – hi. Er, erm, I – I got you something! They didn’t have any Toblerones, incredibly, so I got you some gin, because it’s called Gordon’s Gin and you’re called Gordon! So whenever you want to know which gin is yours, it’ll be the one with your name on it, a-and whenever you want to know what your name is it’ll be written on your gin!

GORDON: Well, that was a very nice thought Arthur. Thank you.

ARTHUR: Y-you’re welcome!

CAROLYN: So, have your henchmen had a good look round now, they’ve been out there long enough.

GORDON: Engineers rather than henchmen. And yes, I’m sorry it took so long.

CAROLYN: I should think so.

GORDON: Y’see, I gave them a couple of notebooks and asked them to take a note of everything that was wrong with her. After two hours they said they were gonna need more time. After three they said they were gonna need more notebooks. Hence my very generous offer to you now of five hundred pounds.

CAROLYN: What? Oh, oh I see, and you’ll take on all MJN’s debts.

GORDON: No, no, it’s sweet of you to offer to throw them in, but er, no – I meant I give you five hundred pounds and you give me Gertie.

CAROLYN: Five hundred pounds, it is an aeroplane, not a second hand Ford Fiesta! A hundred thousand pounds and there is no room for negotiation.

GORDON: All right, bye.

(gathers papers, gets up)

CAROLYN: It’s no good going through all this charade with me Gordon. Remember? I know how fast you scrambled to get out here. I’ve seen how eager you’ve been to buy it all these years. I know how much you want it.

GORDON: Oh yeah, I want it. And you know why I want it?

CAROLYN: Yes, you want it out of spite because you hate the fact I got it in the divorce!

GORDON: No, no, no – ah wait, yes. That’s exactly why. It’s not so much that you took it off me, even though you couldn’t fly the bloody thing, not even that you then used it to play airlines with one pilot who failed his CPL four times (Martin squeaks) and one who got thrown out of Air England for having sticky fingers, yeah, I looked you up. No, it’s just because you called your airline “My Jet Now” - as soon as I heard that, I said to Hayley – she sends her love by the way, though obviously she doesn’t mean it – right, right I said, I’m having that back off her. And you know what I’m going to do with it? I’m going to break it up for parts, and sell the rest to scrap, except for the tail fin. That, I’m gonna ship back to England and hang above my mantelpiece, after of course, I’ve resprayed it “NYBJAMS” – Not Your Bloody Jet Any More Sweetheart. So, me and the guys are going back to our hotel now – I’ll be back in this office nine o clock tomorrow morning. Either you’re there, and you take five hundred quid for it, like you know you have to, or you’re not and I fly home, happy in the knowledge that you’re shafted.

ARTHUR: Dad?

GORDON: What?

ARTHUR: You’ve forgotten your gin.

GORDON: I don’t drink cheap gin. You keep that.

(door slamming)

DOUGLAS: And yet you say the marriage wasn’t a success?

--------------------------

ARTHUR: You promise, you absolutely promise.

CAROLYN: Of course we’re not going to sell it to him! After that? We can have it broken up for parts ourselves if it comes to that.

DOUGLAS: Yes, odd he didn’t realise that.

CAROLYN: He just wanted the satisfaction of making his little speech, that’s all. He never wanted the plane.

DOUGLAS: But you always said he desperately wanted the plane.

CAROLYN: Yes, well clearly I was wrong. Now Douglas, as soon as we get to the motel, I want you to help me write my little speech for tomorrow morning.

MARTIN: What about me?

CAROLYN: Well all right, you too, but I want it to be unbearably superior and snide, so obviously Douglas is my primary source. Douglas, what are you doing?

DOUGLAS: I’m just checking the taxi’s not being followed.

CAROLYN: Why?

DOUGLAS: So we can turn it round and go back to the airport.

CAROLYN: Why?

DOUGLAS: Oh, just on a whim.

-----------------------------------------------

DOUGLAS: And though here-

MARTIN: So we are going to Gertie’s hangar?

DOUGLAS: Maybe.

CAROLYN: Oh for God’s sake just tell us what’s going on.

DOUGLAS: Isn’t it obvious?

CAROLYN: I will punch you Douglas, I will literally punch you on the nose.

DOUGLAS: Well, ask yourself why, if he wants it so much, he made you an offer you’d obviously never accept, why it took his engineers so long to check her over, and of course, why he manipulated you into letting him book the office in MJN’s name?

CAROLYN: This isn’t telling us Douglas, this is aggravated not telling us!

DOUGLAS: All right. He never wanted to buy her. He’s going to steal her.

MARTIN: What? No he’s not!

DOUGLAS: No he’s not now, granted, but he’s going to try.

CAROLYN: But he can’t!

DOUGLAS: Yes he can, he’s qualified to fly her, he’ll have door keys from when he used to own her, and since the airport now thinks he’s part of MJN, they’re hardly going to stop him paying our bills or filing a flight plan.

MARTIN: But her engine’s broken.

DOUGLAS: I bet you a fiver it’s not. And ... (creaking) ah! I’ve won a fiver. You see, that’s what his engineers were up to. It’s like the story of the old shoemaker. I forget the finer details but I believe it concerns an old shoemaker who left a knackered old aeroplane in his workshop overnight and then magical mice, or it may have been pixies, came along and bolted a new engine to it.

CAROLYN: Then why are we here, why aren’t we at the airport manager’s office, or, or, or, or the police!

DOUGLAS: Oh I think we can keep this in the family. All we need to sort him out for ourselves is a camera, a spanner, the asbestos gloves from the galley and most of all, this.

(clinking of bottles)

------------------------------------

CAROLYN: Chedder to Jeddah.

DOUGLAS: Nice.

MARTIN: (muttering) Firmingham, Girmingham ... Lermingham ...

DOUGLAS: From Troon, to the Moon. (sat comm buzzing.) Arthur?

ARTHUR: (over sat comm) Yes hello! It’s me! He’s just passed me, he’s going towards the hangar.

DOUGLAS: Well done Arthur. Stay where you are and keep watch, we’ll come and get you later. (terminates sat comm) Okay, he’s coming. Martin-

MARTIN: Hmm?

DOUGLAS: - you hide in the back of the cabin, I’ll hide in the loo, and you Carolyn, you get to hide in the flight deck locker.

CAROLYN: I’m not getting in there!

DOUGLAS: I promise you it’ll be worth it. (creaking) Quickly! That’s the hangar door.

(clattering)

GORDON: -no Tommo, you’re still breaking up. (unlocking and opening a door) Can you hear me now?

TOMMO: Yep.

GORDON: Well, I said she can try Tom. But there’s plenty of evidence that she invited me here to negotiate a sale. If I say we did a cash deal she’s gonna need a lot of lawyers to prove otherwise, and she’s broke. Okay? I’m in the plane. Better go. (sat comm) Tower? This is Golf Tango India, d’ya have my flight plan in the system yet?

RUSSIAN ATC: Golf Tango India, yes we do, clear to taxi to runway two eight left.

GORDON: Right. Here we go. Yaaargh!

(flight deck locker opens)

CAROLYN: Everything all right Gordon?

GORDON: My hands! What the hell have you done?

CAROLYN: Oh dear that does look nasty, Douglas! Could you come in here a minute?

(flight deck door opens)

DOUGLAS: Certainly Carolyn, what can I do for you! (Gordon whimpering) Oh hello Gordon! Look at you there, sitting in someone else’s aircraft with your hands on the control column, for all the world like you were about to steal it. I might get a picture of that! (camera clicks) And another, don’t take your hands away!

GORDON: I can’t take my hands away! They’re stuck to it, what have you done, what the hell have you done?!

DOUGLAS: What, to the metal casing of the control column? Nothing really, just unbolted it, took it out of the hangar, left it in the minus nineteen degree cold for twenty minutes, carried it back in with asbestos gloves, reattached it. Why, do you find you have rather sticky fingers?

GORDON: Get me off! Get me off it, my fingers are burning!

DOUGLAS: Yes, they will do that at first. Don’t worry though, they’ll go numb soon. And eventually of course drop off.

GORDON: Get me off it!

CAROLYN: Nothing easier. All we need is some alcohol. Low freezing point you see. Now, do you have any alcohol on you?

GORDON: No!

DOUGLAS: Funny, I could have sworn I saw Arthur give you some. Well let’s see if we can rustle something up for you – Martin!

(flight deck door opens)

MARTIN: Yes Douglas, can I help?

DOUGLAS: Mr Shappey finds he has use for some alcohol. Do you happen to have his bottle of gin?

MARTIN: Right here Douglas. I know it’s his, because it’s got his name on it. Have you decided you like it after all Mr Shappey?

GORDON: Gimme it here!

MARTIN: Certainly, and er, what’s your present for him?

GORDON: What?

MARTIN: It’s usual to exchange presents isn’t it? What have you got for Arthur?

GORDON: Nothing!

MARTIN: Oh dear, how embarrassing for you.

DOUGLAS: Oh! I know! Why don’t you give him the engine you’ve just had bolted onto this aircraft’s wing?

CAROLYN: Oh yes! He loves engines, what a thoughtful gift.

GORDON: Yes, fine, all right!

DOUGLAS: You freely give before God, and the cabin voice recorder, Arthur Shappey, the starboard engine of this aircraft in exchange for this bottle of gin?

GORDON: Yes! Now pour it over me!

CAROLYN: With pleasure.

(spattering)

GORDON: (gurgly with an unexpected mouthful of gin) Over my hands!

CAROLYN: Whoops! (spattering, relieved panting) Better? Good. And now Gordon?

GORDON: What?

CAROLYN: Get off my jet now.

------------------------------------

(footsteps)

MARTIN: Okay. Porthcawl to Montreal.

DOUGLAS: Martin! That’s a perfect one, well done!

MARTIN: Via Donegal!

CAROLYN: Yes!

MARTIN: And – the Albert Hall!

DOUGLAS: Oh bravo. How long have you been secretly working on that?

MARTIN: Er ... all day.

CAROLYN: Well it was worth it.

DOUGLAS: Ah! Behold, the ever vigilant watchdog.

MARTIN: Aw, seems a shame to wake him.

DOUGLAS: No it doesn’t, I want to go home.

CAROLYN: Arthur...

ARTHUR: Mmmm?

CAROLYN: It’s time to go home dear.

ARTHUR: Oh right. How’re we doing that?

CAROLYN: In Gertie.

ARTHUR: Oh yeah? She’s fixed is she?

CAROLYN: Yes.

ARTHUR: And you didn’t have to pay for it?

CAROLYN: No.

ARTHUR: So MJN can carry on as normal?

CAROLYN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Okay good.

CAROLYN: Aren’t you interested in how all that happened?

ARTHUR: Did Douglas do something clever and now everything’s fine?

DOUGLAS: Yes.

ARTHUR: There you are then! Exactly what I said all along. I wish you lot would listen to me sometimes!

-----------------------------Closing Credits-----------------------------
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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  lulyve el Jue Oct 11, 2012 12:02 pm

Que estupendo!!!! Esta todo organizado y ordenado, lo cierto es que tenía mucha curiosidad pero ni me había puesto a buscarlo así que muchísimas gracias!!!!
Además en estos días Ben ha confirmado que en diciembre va a grabar una nueva parte Very Happy Very Happy
Me edito para reconocerte el trabajo que te has dado Dacel para dejar esto tan colocadito y tan estupendamente bien.
Anoche escuché los 4 primeros porque no podía parar y esto es DIVERTIDISIMO!!!!! son buenísimos, no me imaginaba que pudiera reirme tanto. Mi inglés es regular pero con las transcripciones me entero muy bien, así que no tengo más remedio que darte de nuevo las gracias, mil millones de gracias Very Happy


Última edición por lulyve el Jue Oct 11, 2012 11:06 pm, editado 1 vez
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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Mertxines el Jue Oct 11, 2012 11:05 pm

¡Muchas gracias Darsel!

¿Puedes subir los enlaces a la sección de Audios de Benedict también, por favor? Gracias Razz

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Vie Oct 12, 2012 12:55 am

Mertxines escribió:¡Muchas gracias Darsel!

¿Puedes subir los enlaces a la sección de Audios de Benedict también, por favor? Gracias Razz

Ya está hecho Smile Smile
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Darsel

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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Darsel el Vie Oct 12, 2012 1:01 am

lulyve escribió:Que estupendo!!!! Esta todo organizado y ordenado, lo cierto es que tenía mucha curiosidad pero ni me había puesto a buscarlo así que muchísimas gracias!!!!
Además en estos días Ben ha confirmado que en diciembre va a grabar una nueva parte Very Happy Very Happy
Me edito para reconocerte el trabajo que te has dado Dacel para dejar esto tan colocadito y tan estupendamente bien.
Anoche escuché los 4 primeros porque no podía parar y esto es DIVERTIDISIMO!!!!! son buenísimos, no me imaginaba que pudiera reirme tanto. Mi inglés es regular pero con las transcripciones me entero muy bien, así que no tengo más remedio que darte de nuevo las gracias, mil millones de gracias Very Happy

De nada Guapa!!!!

A mi me pasó lo mismo que a ti cuando lo escuché por primera vez, no podía parar. John Finnemore es un genio escribiendo y los actores increíbles interpretando. Estoy deseando que graben la serie 4, jejejeje
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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Isadora el Jue Nov 15, 2012 6:50 am

JAJAJAJAJAJAJ nosotras creemos algunas veces que Ben es perfecto y que lo hace todo bien pero yo acabo de descubir su criptonita los idiomas y los acentos jajajajaj que malo es el jodio jajaja
cuando e escuchado el de johannesburg parecia el tipico giri cuando se a bebido ya su peso en litros de sangria jajajajajaj y lo unico que se le entiende es siesta no sabe nada el Ben jajajaj
y Finnerome cuando en vez de decir quintanilla dice cuintanila jajajajajaj entre lo buena que es la serie y estos acentos me encanta
y en el dell nombre ese raro cuando habla con acento frances XD XD XD XD XD parece que le esta dando algo y se le enreda la lengua cualquier parecido con el acento es pura coincidencia jajajajajajja y cuando dice los creditos finales tan bien el se recrea y todo jajajajajajajajaj nuestro Ben los tiene cuadrados jajajajajaj

Gracias darsel por poner esto que te lo has currado un monton
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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

Mensaje  Mertxines el Jue Nov 15, 2012 7:03 am

Ya hay fecha de grabación y emisión de los nuevos episodios radiofónicos de Cabin Pressure:

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Grabación en 3 sesiones, a las que la gente puede asistir pidiendo tickets (se agotan rapidísimamente, obviamente):
Domingos 2-12, 16-12 y 6-1 en los estudios RADA en Londres, a la 1:30 del mediodía.

Emisión:
Por la BBC Radio 4 durante 6 semanas, empezando el miércoles 9 de enero.



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Re: CABINE PRESSURE

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