Episode 4 - No Sleep 'til Strathaven

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Episode 4 - No Sleep 'til Strathaven


Opens in Bar, Gordon, Billy, Mondo and George sitting having a drink discussing the new name...




Billy - So that's it?

George - Pretty much.

Mondo (playing sticks off edge of table) - I like it.

Gordon - Sounds like Wipe. As in 'I wouldn't WIPE my arse with it'...

George - It came to me in a dream. It was very vivid.

Gordon - If I'd have known you were going to go all hippy dippy on me...


Billy - How about The Shirley Temple of Doom?

Gordon - Or Tina Turner Overdrive?

Mondo - Curious George and the Spiders From Largs?




Narrator - Due to the age gap, I probably gave them too much respect back then. Once I got to know them, though I realised that they were just as fucked up, (cut to Gordon falling off couch drunk while attempting to hit on a girl) and as idiotic (cut to Billy burning his mouth attempting to drink soup straight from pot) as I was. But in the absence of an alternative, I had to stand my ground.







George - So do you have any other ideas? C'mon, let me hear them then, smart arses.

Billy and Gordon shifting in their seats. Mondo continues drumming.

George - Well, White it is.

Devon arrives...

Devon - So, you've decided on the name? Well..?

Gordon - Dicky Retardo and the Lucille Balls.




Cuts to Doctors surgery. George is lying on his back, trousers down.

Narrator - Oh yes. Thank you Gordon. How could I forget?




Doctor - What I'm going to do is apply some gentle pressure to the area.

George - Go for it.

Doctor - You may feel a little local pain but it's nothing to worry about.

George - SWEET FUCKING JESUS!!!!!!!

Narrator - As physical discomfort goes, nothing tops a doctor squeezing your jed like he was making orange juice. Hard to believe but it could've been worse. I could be Brian. Just when the swelling was starting to go down...

Cut to football field, Brian standing in wall defending free kick.

Narrator - Let's play spot the ball. Does it end up in area A, B or C? Answers on a postcard...

The ball smashes into Brian's privates and he hits the ground in silent agony.

Cut to another Doctors surgery... Brian lying on his back, trousers down.

Brian - So Doc, how bad is it?

Doctor - Actually, it's fine.

Brian - Really?

Doctor - No. Your ball looks like an aubergine. Needs to go.

Cut to George's Doctor.

Doctor - I think we need to cut this off.

Cut to George and Brian whimpering.




Narrator - Fortunately, that wasn't the only thing that was taking/taken off. The summer of 1985 saw the world unite to combat the terrible famine that had befallen the starving populace of East Africa. As concerned citizens of the planet, we were determined to do our bit by driving 20 miles out of Glasgow to a quaint little town in Lanarkshire on a Friday night to share the gift of rock.




Cut to van on way to gig, driving down country roads.

Devon - Nice wee low key gig, away from Glasgow, to start you off.

Gordon - I thought you said it was a Live Aid link up?

Devon - It is...technically.

Mondo - So, it's still on TV then?

Devon - Live Aid is. It's on all day tomorrow.

Mondo - No, this...

Devon - This is the show that opens it up. Here, Wembley Stadium then Philadelphia. I've been assured that there will be local TV coverage.

Gordon - The Strathaven Broadcasting Corporation?

Billy (sarcastically) - Phil Collins's on the train from Glasgow Central especially for this.

Mondo - Excellent! I love Phil Collins. (plays 'In the air tonight' roll on roof of van) Wonder if there will be any African birds here tonight? I shagged an African bird last week. Superb. She was clicking (makes African clicking noise with his mouth) like a rev counter. At first, I though it was her hip.

Billy - Have you shagged any birds from around here?

Mondo - Aye. Last month. These country girls are mental. Farm girls will milk you!! George, you're gonna love it.

George - I can't. Not allowed to even think about it. Doctors orders. And anyway, if I burst the stitches, it will leave my cock looking like Frankenstein's neck.

Mondo, Billy, Gordon and Devon (repulsed) - Awwww shut the fuck up.

Gordon - I didn't get into rock and roll to talk about your tattered tadge. Anyway, should be a blast tonight.

George (nervous) - I'm bricking it.

Billy (driving) - Fear is natural. Embrace it. Channel the fear. But listen and listen well, youngster. Spew near me and you're walking home tonight.

Mondo - Devon, how much are we getting paid for tonight?




The van pulls into the car park of a small country pub.




Narrator - Surely this isn't it?

Devon gets out and heads to the bar. He returns and points Billy to a schoolhouse over a field.

Billy drives until the road ends.

Billy - Everybody out.

The band start unloading the equipment through a muddy field to the schoolhouse. Cowboy boots are getting stuck in the mud. George's boot comes off and he almost falls over. Mondo removes his shoes, socks, rolls up his trousers and saunters through.




Narrator - I hope those hungry wee bastards appreciate the sacrifice we're making here today. Not quite the 'sucked off in bog' headlines I had in mind.




Cut to inside of the schoolhouse and the young female, gig co-ordinator, Jenny arrives.

Jenny - You must be White, then?

Mondo (acting smooth) - One and the same sweetheart.

Jenny - Hi. You're on in the town hall at 9pm.

Gordon - Is this not the town hall?

Jenny - Good heavens no. That's across the road. Can I ask you something? Why did you cross the field instead of driving around to the front?

Cuts to shot of Billy falling over in field.

The band look at Devon in annoyance.

Devon - What?

Billy arrives and surveys his destroyed slip ons.

Billy - I need some fresh espadrilles.

Mondo - Oh, get me some too. I'm fucking starving.




Cut to Strathaven Town Hall. The show has started and a local punky rock band is playing.

Narrator - This is more like it. Can't see any cameras though.

Gordon - These guys are not bad.

Narrator - In the future, the singer of this band becomes an internationally renowned rock star. Who'd have thunk it? Might have to step it up tonight.

They end to wild applause and come off stage. The singer goes over to a local girl and kisses her passionately.

Narrator - Ah, that's nice.

Loud voice booms..

What the fuck do you think you're doing?

Billy - I hope the girl's not his sister?

Mondo - Or worse, his bird..

Narrator - Spot on Armando.

Cut to big burly rugby player and friends dragging the singer outside.

Gordon - Back in a minute.

Billy - Protect your hands tall one...use your head.

Narrator - There he goes, Clark Kent. No, it's alright...I'll wait here, look after the gear.

Jenny - You're on next, guys.

George (clutching stomach) - Where's the nearest toilet?




Cut to stage, end of the White set. Punky singer at the front with his friends leads the cheering. He's a bit battered but in good spirits. Band leave stage where Devon reveals...

Devon - Just heard that the Strathaven Dynamo's Rugby team are on their way right now to have a chat with our guitarist. Something about putting their prop forward in hospital. The van is out back, we need to go. Now. Where's George?

Cut to George jumping off stage, arms outstretched.

Narrator - I thought I'd spend the after show with my people. The fans. I've never tired of people telling me how great I am. Do you like the hair? Yeah, I did it myself....




Devon grabs George and drags him away from the crowd.

Narrator - My people....my people....

Gordon (adamant) - I'm staying. Strathaven Dynamo's? Bring them on.

Billy - Discretion is the better part of valour, tall one. There will be other fights. And besides, if we go now, we can make the Nico's lock in.

Narrator - Ah booze! Billy has just nicked Gordon's achilles heel. Well, one of them anyway.

Gordon (thinks about it) - I'd like it noted that I'm going under protest.

Billy - Good lad.

Mondo - So, Jenny any chance of your number?

Jenny - OK, it's Strathaven 808080, that's ate nothing, ate nothing, ate nothing.

Mondo (unaware)- Brilliant, I'll call you.




As the van pulls away from the Town Hall, the Rugby club, a police van and BBC arrive with their cameras.

Devon - Told you there would be TV coverage.

Billy (sarcastically) - Maybe that's Phil Collins arriving...

George and Mondo together - Aww....




Cut to Nico's Pub and George is in conference with Donny.

Donny - So, I'll pick Brian up from the hospital at midday and drop him at yours.

George - Cool. So, how's the search for a new singer going?

Donny - Hmmm...

Cut to montage of audition... many dreadful singers.

George - I see.

Donny - How's your raggedy rod?

George (grimaces) - Hmmm...

Donny - Yeah...by the way, there are two fucking sexy bitches at the bar looking at right at me. Don't look!

George turns round to see the girls. The taller one is very forward and speaks with an accent.

I'm Anka and you are?

George - I'm George.

Anka (to Donny) - This is Lara and I'm Anka.

Donny - Anka?

Narrator - Don't do it...

Donny - Rhymes with...

Narrator - No!!!

Donny - Oil tanka?

Narrator - Close.

Anka - You are?

Donny - Call me Skull.

Anka - Skull? As in...Skull?

Donny - Eh yes...

Anka - Interesting...

Donny - Fancy buying me a Furstenberg?

Donny leads Lara away...

George and Anka start to talk...

Narrator - It felt so natural talking to her. We immediately had a connection. I liked her a lot but what's not to like? She was tall, beautiful, slightly exotic and she had great taste in music..

Anka - I love the Doors, Zeppelin and a couple of Scandinavian bands, you've probably not heard of...

Narrator - ...and men. One man in particular. Green lights all the way. There's no way this could go wrong.

Cut to outside Nico's, early in morning.

George - I would invite you to mine but ...

Narrator - My old boy looks as if I've been wanking with a cheese grater and anything resembling an erection would arguably give me a stroke and you nightmares.

Anka - It's been a special night. We can save it for tomorrow?

George - Can't tomorrow. Sunday?

Anka - It's a date. Here's my address. I want to see more of you, Mr George.

Anka kisses George before joining Lara in a waiting cab.

George and Donny walk away from the pub.

George - How did you get on?

Donny - Good. I think...

George - Care to elaborate?

Donny - She's a bit fucking weird.

Narrator - High praise indeed.

Donny - I mean, how do I know if I'm misogynistic if the stupid bun doesn't tell me what it means?

George - Stupid bun.

Donny - She did ask me to take her to the toilet and fuck her up the tailpipe though.

George - Hey hey! 1-0 to the Skull!

Donny - Any hole's a goal, Geo.




Narrator - Pretty good end to the day. Get home, wash my damaged bell end, get Brian tomorrow and spend the day watching Adam Ant and the Boomtown Rats kick Queen's arse at Live Aid. Donny's boycotting it because the Stranglers and Bauhaus weren't invited.




Cut to montage of Brian and George going from pub to club to back to George's flat before falling asleep in front of the TV.




Cut to Sunday, George's door is being battered.

George (groggy) - Who the fuck is that at this time of the morning?

George turns his TV off, looks at clock, it's Midday. He opens the door.

Devon storms in.

Devon - Why aren't you answering your fucking phone?

George -  I don't have a phone.

Devon - Oh. Well...you need to get one.

George - What do you want?

Devon - How do you fancy supporting Hipsway at the Cotton Club next Friday?

George - Are you kidding?

Devon - Well?

Brian (waking briefly, puts his hand up) - Guest list!

Devon - Promise you won't embarrass me...

Brian silently punches the air then goes back under the covers.

George starts dancing around the room.

Devon - Get this one right and it's one step closer to...

George - The Barrowland?

Devon - Don't get ahead of yourself. Just giving you a little incentive. So, rehearsal tonight 7pm.

George (excited) - I'm there mate!

Brian (stirring) - Haven't you got a date with some foreign chick?

George - Oh shit...better move.

Cut to George running out of house and down onto the Subway




Narrator - Ain't life good? I'm young, have a cool penthouse, am ridiculously handsome, the gigs keep coming and I've got a date with an exotic dame. I think she's the one. No, seriously. I'm not getting ahead of myself here but I can see me accepting an Oscar or a Golden Emmy or some shit for my debut in the stunning reworking of James Bond for the 80's - Goldeneyeliner - and I tearfully dedicate the award to her and our three children, La Toya, Indiana and Axel F. I think she could be the Lady Di to my Prince Chuck.




Cut to West End, Anka's house. Old sandstone tenement flat, with minimalist, modern design.

Anka (wearing robe) - I've been expecting you, Mr George.

Narrator - See that? She totally gets the Bond thing. She's sooo cool.

George (adopting Connery accent) - Ah Pusshy, I musht be dreaming.

Anka - I'm sorry? I love your accent but don't always understand your Scottish humour.

Narrator - No problem sweetheart. (sings like Louis Armstrong) We have all the time in the world...

George and Anka begin to get passionate in her living room.

Narrator - Here we go...this is what I'm talking about. And what's this? A cheeky wee semi, easy now. Don't want to destroy Frankencock!

Anka - I feel very comfortable with you.

George - Same here.

Anka (a little excited) - I'd like to take this further.

Narrator - Rockets... prepare for blast off.

George - What would you like to do?

Anka - But I don't know if you're ready for me.

George/Narrator - Huh?

Narrator - Of course I'm fucking ready. You're on the guest list for the Hipsway gig, love. That's commitment. Listen, my heart is pounding and so are my jeans. The slightest touch will probably result in a flood that Charlton Heston would struggle to stem.

Anka - I feel so comfortable with you.

Narrator - Yeah...you've already said that. Get yer robe off love.

Anka - I'm ready for us to be joined.

Narrator - Yes!

Anka leads George by the hand into a dark room. She lights candles and the room illuminates, little by little to reveal her true intentions.

Cut to Goat's head...

Narrator - Maybe she's a hunter....

Cut to upside down cross...

Narrator - She's got that the wrong way round....uurrgghh..my feet are getting wet...what the ...?

Cut to pentagram, freshly painted on floor.

Narrator - Holy Mary Mother of God!

Anka (holding knife) - Are you ready to join me?

George - Woah!!!!

Anka - Don't you want to be part of me?

George (finding light switch) - I do...I do. It's just...

Anka - What's the problem?

George (sheepishly) - I've just had an operation and ...the doctor told me that I can't...share blood?

Anka - No problem. The ceremony can wait. We still fuck now, yes?

George - Ehhhh...I've got a rehearsal ... (looks at wrist where watch should be) right now actually.

Anka - This is good. The wait will make the magic even more powerful.

George - Absolutely.

Narrator - Absolutely not, you fucking mentalist.

Anka - Come later, I will devour your seed.

George - I'll call you when I'm finished.

Narrator - Right after calling Max Von Sydow and the Legion of Mary. I am a sinner and I'm going to hell.




Cut to Rehearsal room, George relays the story to the band.

Narrator - A traumatic day but no doubt my sensitive bandmates will provide succour.

Billy and Gordon - Hahahahaha!

Mondo - Aye but did you fuck her? I fucked a Satanist once. Teased her until she shouted for Jesus.

Devon enters room.

Devon - Business boys. Business. A bit of news. Radio Clyde want to do an interview after the Hipsway show. There is definitely a buzz...

Narrator - How can I think about Radio at a time like this?

Devon - And you got your first newspaper review! Myra Blackman no less.

Band gather around to read the miniscule article about the Strathaven gig.

Billy - Her picture is bigger than the review.

Gordon - She says 70's rock like it's a bad thing.

George - And I quote, 'The singer resembles a young Jim Morrison'! Yes!!!

George walks away from the gathering, arms aloft.

Billy - That means she thinks you're an alkie waster who writes bad poetry.

Devon - One of you might have to fuck her to get a bigger article.

George - I can do that...

Gordon - I'm game.

Mondo (looking closely at picture)  - I think I already have...

Gordon - C'mon let's get back into this. Count it off Mondo...

Narrator - There's nothing like 130db and a fair to middling newspaper review to cleanse the thought of your future satanic spouse and the mother of the unholy spawn of said union right out of your psyche.

Gordon (Looks at drum riser) - Mondo! Where the fuck has he gone?

Billy - He's away upstairs to make a call...again.

Narrator - I forgot to point out earlier that Sound City Studios shared premises and apparently, a phone with a massage parlour. If stressed, Mondo would have to make at least 3 urgent calls, every rehearsal. Thankfully, he always came back very relaxed but desperately short of money.

Cut to Mondo standing at the door.

Mondo - Can I borrow a couple of pennies? Need to make an urgent call.

Gordon - How much do you need?

Mondo - Eh...call it £25.

Back to rehearsal room

Gordon - Point of no return?

Billy - Agreed. He spends more energy running nightclubs than he does rehearsing anyway.

George - But we've got the gig on Friday.

Gordon - We'll make the break after Hipsway.

Narrator - At one point, Mondo had more clubs on the go than Nick Faldo. And like Nick, most days he could be found playing a round with Fanny.

Devon - I'll set up auditions after the gig.

Cut to montage of shots of Anka looking around pubs for George while he escapes.




Narrator - I wonder how long it takes to process a restraining order?




Cut to night of gig, George is peering out from behind a stack of amps. Brian and Donny are close by.

George - Can you see her?

Donny - So, I'm looking for a girl who wants to either mate with or mutilate you? Narrows it down a bit.

Brian - You need to get ready, you're on in 5 minutes.

George - Oh God....

George heads to the toilet for his traditional preparation.




Cut to backstage after gig, the band enter the dressing room.




Billy - Well, that was interesting.

Gordon throws a towel into the corner in anger.

Mondo - Epic! All back to mine for the after show?

George - You do realise what you did?

Mondo - What?

Billy - You played all eight songs exactly the same. The same rolls, the same fills, THE SAME.

Narrator - Inadvertantly, Mondo had just invented drumming for the 90's. One groove under which all tunes are played. Made an arse of the two ballads though.

Mondo - Didn't you like it?

Cut to Mondo packing his gear away in his car.

George, Gordon, Billy shake his hand.

Mondo - Well, that's that then?

Billy - Looks like it mate.

Mondo - Got to go. It's been an...interesting evening. Might have to have a massage before heading to the club. Just to loosen me up, you know? George, let me know how you get on with Satan's little helper. See you all later?


Devon - Do we still get free passes to your clubs?

Mondo (smiling) - Course you do!

Narrator - And he was as good as his word. We always liked Mondo.




Cut to back in the club.




Donny - She's here!

Brian - Which one is she?

Donny - Hehehehe! Like it 'Witch' one?! Geddit? Nevermind. Tall, attractive, demonic. Smells of brimstone.

Anka sees Donny and approaches.

Anka - Mr Skull, have you seen my George?

Donny (stalling) - He's around somewhere.

Brian - Did you enjoy the show?

Anka - It was very...different.

Donny - He's probably gone straight to the after show party.

Anka - Without me? Without you?

Brian - Eh...yeah.

Anka - Well I'll just go and meet him there...




Walking out of the club with Donny and Brian following behind, she spots George . George stops in his tracks as she throws her arms around him.

Anka - Mr George. I've been waiting for you.

Narrator - Why have I got the Old Spice music playing in my head?

George - Anka, we need to talk.

Anka - We talk too much. (kissing George)

George - Stop. This isn't going to work.

Anka withdraws, surprised.

Narrator - Think, quick!

George - It's not you, it's me..

Narrator - Sweet Jesus, is that the best you can do? Of course it's her!

Anka - You're breaking up with me?

George nods sheepishly, backing off to where Donny and Brian are standing.

Anka - You're breaking up with me?

Narrator (Charlton Heston voice) - And yea, verily the sky opened up and there were storms from the heavens themselves, hushed were the billows.

George - What the f..

Narrator - I swear to God she started speaking...in a very strange dialect...I'm sure I heard the word 'Zuul'...

Brian - I do not like this.

Donny (shouts) - Don't look into her eyes!

The storms die and Anka composes herself.

Anka (calm) - I curse you...George...until the end of your days.

Anka walks away to the sound of metal crunching and stone cracking.

Donny - That was fucking mental. Nimble little minx, eh?

George (scared) - Brian?

Brian (equally scared) -Yes?

George - Can you stay at mine tonight?

Brian - OK. But I am going nowhere near your fucking fridge.




Gordon and Billy arrive with Devon.

Billy - Did you see the sky there? Wow...trippy.

Gordon - Better get to the after show before the locusts come down.

Devon - Good news or bad news, boys?

George - Could anything be worse than the seventh fucking sign?

Devon - Well the Radio Clyde interview is off.

Gordon - Bollocks.

Billy - And the good news is?

Devon - Polydor Records saw something in that fucking car crash of a gig and want to see us. Next week. In the studio. And if that goes well, we may just have a shot at the support slot for Christmas gig at the Barrowland. No pressure boys, it's only Big fucking Country!

Cut to shot of band celebrating.

Narrator - The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. And as long as Anka taketh herself away, I can handl-eth anything. It's been a challenging week. Collectively, we've lost a drummer, a foreskin and a testicle. Placed under a hex and chased out of town. To paraphrase Edmond Dantes, “Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome. Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you...

 (cut to a frightened George lying in bed with a sleeping Brian)

...as a snivelling shitebag. Fair enough but I'm still here to see the sunshine tomorrow. Looks like we need to find a drummer though...



End.
Copyright George Paterson 2012