Cabin Pressure - Paris.doc

Cabin Pressure Paris(In the office) 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, thatll do! ARTHUR (finishing off the song rapidly): Happy Birling Day to us! MARTIN: Arthur! ARTHUR: Sorry! I just love Birling Day, dont you? MARTIN: No, I dont. I didnt become a pilot so that I could bow and scrape to some horrible dotty old man just because he gives massive tips. DOUGLAS: Well dont do it, then. MARTIN: Yes unfortunately I also didnt 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, thats true. Im not going to drink it Im going to sell it. CAROLYN: You are not going to do anything with it, Raffles, and Ill 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, Im 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 didnt fall for that, did you? Cant you see shes just trying to sell her debt on? She knows Ill 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 Im 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 cant 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 didnt hear you knock. MR BIRLING: Didnt 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 its “touch the face of God.” MR BIRLING: No, no, I didnt like the sound of that at all. Icky. CAROLYN: Well, I dont suppose God would be overjoyed at the prospect, either. MR BIRLING: Oh, are you still here? I didnt see you last time. I thought perhaps youd died. CAROLYN: No. I am still here. MR BIRLING: Fancy that. (Mrs Birling comes into the office.) MRS BIRLING: Birling! You cant 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 Im the captain. MR BIRLING: He always says that. I dont know why. Pilots, this is Elizabeth, my awful wife. Shes come to see me off. MARTIN: Oh, hello. Um, Im sure shes not awful. MR BIRLING: Well, Ill tell you what, my dear boy: you marry her for thirty years and then well compare notes. MRS BIRLING: Hello, yes. Nice to meet you and so forth etcetera. Anyway, heres 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. Youre having them now, and thats all youre getting. Mr Birling and I have talked about those extravagant tips he used to give and weve mutually decided they should stop, havent we, Birling? MR BIRLING: No. MRS BIRLING: Do you want to see your stupid rugby in stupid Paris? MR BIRLING: Rugby isnt stupid. Paris, I grant you, is moronic. MRS BIRLING: What have we decided, then? MR BIRLING (sulkily): No tips. MRS BIRLING: Thats right. MR BIRLING: Shes 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 youre in trouble. MR BIRLING: Goodbye, dear. Take care while Im gone. Dont 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 dont know. CAROLYN: Umm, drivers? Before you get on board, if youd 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, youre 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, thats sweet. Did you really think Id 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 hes tampered with. Well, much good it may do you, Douglas, because this time there is just one bottle and I am opening it now. (Theres the crack of the bottle lid being opened and then unscrewed.) CAROLYN: Now, lets 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 youve won a hundred quid. MARTIN: All right. Douglas, dont come anywhere near me. Get into the plane and go into the flight deck. DOUGLAS: You really dont 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: Im going, Im going. MARTIN: Close the door. (Flight deck door closes.) MARTIN: Good. Arthur! ARTHUR: Hello, Skip! MARTIN: Here is Mr Birlings 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 isnt Douglas allowed to go near? ARTHUR: The whisky. MARTIN: Who isnt allowed to go near the whisky? ARTHUR: Douglas. MARTIN: What isnt Douglas allowed to do to the whisky? ARTHUR: Anything. MARTIN: You really have got it! ARTHUR: Ive got it! Im not stupid! MARTIN: Who isnt allowed to do what to what? ARTHUR: Im not allowed to drive Mums car. MARTIN: What?! ARTHUR: Sorry, Skip, thats an earlier one. Um, Douglas isnt allowed to go near the whisky. MARTIN: Good. Here it is. * DOUGLAS: Post take-off checks complete. MARTIN: Thank you. DOUGLAS: So. Youve left the whisky with Arthur, have you? MARTIN: None of your business. DOUGLAS: Bit risky, isnt it? Ive have thought youd 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 Id have to deal with it, but whatever happens, I can make absolutely certain you dont leave the flight deck til we land again. DOUGLAS: Mmm! Well played! MARTIN: Thank you. DOUGLAS: Well, Im just going to the loo. MARTIN: Oh no youre 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 dont need to go! DOUGLAS: I do! MARTIN: Well, youll just have to hold it in for an hour, wont you? DOUGLAS: Cant 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: Im not putting my hands on my head! MARTIN: You put your hands on your head or you dont 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! Dont 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 youve got a headache, or youve just discovered youve lost your hat. MARTIN: Douglas, you may go to the loo. DOUGLAS: I dont need to go any more. MARTIN: Oh, what a surprise(!) Go anyway. I dont want you pulling this again in ten minutes. DOUGLAS: Your wish is my command. (Flight deck door closes.) ARTHUR: I think youre doing this brilliantly, Skip. MARTIN: Thank you. ARTHUR: I dont know how hes gonna steal it this time. MARTIN: Hes not going to steal it this time. ARTHUR: No, no, probably not. Although he is really sneaky. MARTIN: I dont care how sneaky he is, Arthur. If I simply never let him touch the bottle, he cant 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. Ive 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: Im 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 hasnt, and I resent the “yet”. Hes not gonna get it at all. CAROLYN: Have you got it yet, Douglas? MARTIN: Hes not in the flight deck at the moment. CAROLYN: Oh, fair enough. Hes a busy man. Hell 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 havent managed to steal, Im going to say something that rhymes with “You . bidnt . gell . nee . cat . er .” DOUGLAS: Are you all right? MARTIN: “You didnt 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? Ive been both ringing my bell and shouting the word “Ding” since approximately the late Middle Ages. ARTHUR: Sorry. Skip was just . MR BIRLING: I dont 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: Thats not Talisker! Thats horrible! ARTHUR: Wow! MR BIRLING: What do you mean, “Wow”? ARTHUR: Nothing. Its 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 Birlings whisky how? DOUGLAS: What are you talking about? I havent. MARTIN: Oh, dont give me that! OK, you won! Ill have to pay Carolyn. Now just tell me: how did you do it? DOUGLAS (sounding genuinely surprised): Are you telling me the whiskys gone? MARTIN: Yes, its gone! Because you took it! But how? DOUGLAS: I didnt. MARTIN: Well, of course you did! Youve been saying youre gonna take it all flight! DOUGLAS: Yes, and so I am, but I havent yet. I havent had a chance. MARTIN: What? DOUGLAS: Just tell me what happened. MARTIN: Mr Birling asked for his whisky; Arthur poured it out; it wasnt Talisker. DOUGLAS: It was apple juice? MARTIN: No, it was cheap horrible whisky. DOUGLAS: Right. Because when I do it, itll 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 wasnt you? DOUGLAS: Hand on heart, it absolutely wasnt . Oh, hang on. Very clever. MARTIN: What? DOUGLAS: No, really, Im very impressed. Carolyns idea, I take it or did you actually come up with it yourself? MARTIN: What are you talking about? DOUGLAS: Youve quite obviously taken it and hidden it so I cant steal it and you can return it to Carolyn. MARTIN: I . of course I didnt take it! You took it! DOUGLAS: No I didnt. 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 . dont . know. CAROLYN: You dont 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 whos learned to use a tin opener? MARTIN: I meant no, he-he-he hasnt stolen it. Its fine. Its all fine. CAROLYN: Oh Lord. Hes stolen it. How could you let this happen, Martin? I give you one simple job . MARTIN (hurriedly): Sorry, Carolyn, got to go, were 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: Its not brilliant! ARTHUR: Its a bit brilliant. Can I tell you in my own words? DOUGLAS: Who elses words had you planned to use? Winston Churchills? 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, thatll do! Thank you, Arthur. DOUGLAS: Has that revealed the vital clue, Inspector? MARTIN: Shush, Douglas. DOUGLAS: Just trying to help. MARTIN: You cant help. Youre the suspect and also the person who did it! DOUGLAS: I really didnt, Martin. You made it impossible. And if I had, dont you think Id be gloating by now? MARTIN: Well . yes. But who else could it be? DOUGLAS: Well, if youre sure it wasnt you, then I suppose theres only one person it could be. MARTIN: Well . but why would Mr Birling steal his own whisky? DOUG