Episode 16 - Sly Sports

 

 

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by George Paterson.

 

Episode 16 - Sly Sports

'We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust. The stars from a circle, and in the centre we dance.'

Rumi (13th Century Persian poet)

 

 

Opens in a stylish but messy flat. A telephone rings. From a mass of bedding, George emerges, the worse for wear. He picks up the phone.

George (groggy) - Ehhh....Savoy Grill, can I take your order?

Gordon - Just a wee reminder to be at North Acton Underground station by 3pm. And one other thing. Do you own a pair of sneakers?

 

Narrator - I hadn't forgotten.  I was just easing myself into the day. Such is life when you're an international rock idol. Or a soon to be, trainee one. Get up at the crack of noon, fry up, a satisfying Eartha Kitt then crack one off to the tasty Aussie nymphettes in Neighbours. Since we last spoke, Billy is loved up (cut to Billy and his leggy barmaid girlfriend walking by the Thames. She is describing something in an animated fashion. A serious Billy nods before sneaking a look at her butt) Slippy has his feet under the table at the Beeb (cut to Slippy asleep in his workshop) and Gordon?  We'll since we've lost our manager, he's taken on the role of mother. If the mother was Joan Crawford, that is. At least it's keeping him out of the house.(cut to a concerned Gordon sitting on a sofa with his 'girlfriend' zipping around the flat at double speed, showing him her samples of fabric and other soft furnishings. Gordon sinks into the sofa.) And I'm here, living in the tousled lap of luxury on Gayton Road, Hampstead. Well, Devon paid the rent until the end of the month and as Her Majesty is providing him with board, lodgings and clothing for the next 2 years, it would be a shame to let this lovely pad go entirely to waste. At least we sent him to his new W. Sussex home in style.

 

(Cut to band rocking out on stage at a biker bar. Man Bat and his friends lead the revelry as Devon 'crowd surfs' ) 

 

Narrator - And believe it or not, I've managed to find gainful employment. Of sorts.

 

Cut to George putting the phone down on Gordon. He goes under the covers again.

The phone rings again. George groans.

 

George - I'm up! I'm up!

Female voice - Hello George? It's Lucy from Empower Temp agency here.

Narrator - I'd do anything for lovely Lucy.

Lucy - Two things. Just checking that you're coming to the Empower rooftop reception on Saturday.

George - Will you be there?

Lucy - Of course.

George - Then I wouldn't dream of missing it.

Lucy - That is good news. I just love your Scottish accent.

George - Just as well I love Aussie girls.

Lucy - I'm from New Zealand.

George - Oh...sorry. (whispers) Fuck!

Pause...

George - And the second thing???

Lucy - Of course...how do you fancy a couple of nights at Wembley?

George's eyes light up.

Narrator - Now Lucy was special but this was a different kettle of knee trembling. Since it was built in the 1920's, the spiritual home of the Scotsman in London is Wembley. We love it so much that we like to take pieces of it home with us. But first...

 

Cut to the band arriving at an industrial estate in West London. 

Narrator - ...we had a new studio to check out!

 

Gordon- Here we are lads!

George, Billy and Slippy look unimpressed.

Gordon - Don't concern yourselves with the facade. It's going to be perfect for us.

Narrator - Couldn't be worse than the last place we worked.

Cut to band playing song then stopping suddenly. Each member grabs a piece of equipment and tries to club the rat that has invaded the room. Billy wins and raises his bass above his head in victory.

 

They enter the battered and graffiti strewn unit. Inside there is a man, sitting on a couch, wearing a wooly hat and what looks like a sleeping bag. He's sniffing..

The man looks up, smiles and says laconically...

Man - £12.

George - excuse me?

Man - £12.

Gordon- Hi, we're White.

Man (drawls) - I can see that. Cold and shivering I may be but blind, I am not.

Billy - The name of the band is White.

Man - I don't care if your name is The Bastard Sons of Bollocking Bob Seger, it's still £12. Three hours, studio 2. 

The band rifle through their pockets to come up with the fee.

Man (shouts) - Fozzy!!!!

Man coughs and spits into a bucket.

 

A younger man appears from another room. He is very keen and more friendly than his colleague.

 

Fozzy - Hi guys, welcome to Endurance Studios. I'm Fozzy. Come into Studio 1 and listen to what we're doing.

The band join Fozzy in the small control room.  He's mixing some heavy dub reggae and the lyrics are very violent. Fozzy introduces the band to...

Fozzy - Guys, this is Snuggly Styles. And you guys are...

Narrator - This could be tricky...

The chorus of Snuggly's song is very catchy. Billy and Slippy lock in to the groove, nodding away while George and Gordon catch the lyrics...

 

'Sly, Sly, dem police are sly. So, I fuck dem in the head and I fuck dem in the eye!'

 

Gordon (to George) - Why can't you write stuff like that?

George (to Gordon) - I wonder if he's related to Donny?

Gordon - How is the skull? 

George - No idea.  Haven't spoken to him or Brian in a while. I must give them a bell.

Snuggly sees the band getting into the music and grins. 

Snuggly (very polite) - Would you chaps like some tea?

George - That would be lovely!

Snuggly pours for the band.

George - I was half expecting you to offer us a sparked up fat boy.

Snuggly (serious) - I don't smoke weed.

Billy (sipping) - Mmmmm...nice tea.

Slippy - Is there honey in this?

Gordon gulps his down.

Billy - Mind if I take another one in with us?

Snuggly pours seconds for everyone.

Fozzy - Let me show you Studio 2.

 

Snuggly offers his knuckles. George awkwardly grips Snuggly's fist and shakes it.

Snuggly (laughs) - Easy.

 

Fozzy leads the band into a decent sized rehearsal room. The band survey what equipment is on offer.

Slippy (sitting on drum stool) - Nice Pearl kit.

Bllly - Cool. Trace Elliott stack.

Gordon - Belter!  Marshall valve amp!

George - Wow!  A full sized mirror!

 

Narrator - This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

 

15 minutes later, the band are locked into a deep groove. George is dancing in front of the mirror, singing about giants and entering arenas.

 

Gordon (eyes closed, shouts) - Fozzy! We need to record this!

Billy - Roll the tape!

 

30 minutes later, the band is still locked into the groove.

Cut to Fozzy and Snuggly in the control booth.

Fozzy - How herbal was your tea?

Snuggly watches as Slippy grooves right off his drum stool.

Snuggly shrugs apologetically.

 

Cut to bar after rehearsal. Band are coming down. 

They're taking it in turns to listen to the jam they recorded on Slippy's walkman.

George - So, where is this place we're playing on Friday?

Billy -The Watermill in Northampton. My woman knows the manager.

The band coo..

Band - My woman!!!!!

They laugh.

Billy - Fuck off!

Gordon - Well, my 'woman' wants me to meet her parents.

There is a deathly silence as everyone looks at the guitarist.

Gordon shudders and sinks his drink.

Billy - Well, I'm staying over in Northampton for the weekend. There's a campsite...

George (shakes head) - Whoa horsey!  Stop right there. Camping? Outdoors?

Slippy - I'm out.

Gordon (distracted) - I'm supposed to pick out curtains on Saturday at World of Fabric.

Slippy picks up Gordon's drink and takes a sniff as George attempts to take his temperature by putting his hand on Gordon's forehead.

Billy - Guys, a couple of days in the woods will be a good laugh. Some tunes, some grub, a few drinks and....my woman's best mate is coming.

George - What does she look like?

Billy - Never met her but it seems she's just back from a health farm.

The band laugh.

Slippy - She sounds a catch, bold yin.

Billy - She'll be at the gig, you can see for yourself.

George - Sorry but I'm bombing it back to London as soon as. The lovely Lucy has a date with destiny. (gives a double inward thumbs up)

Gordon - A date with density more like.

George - Roon yees! (stands up) More beers ladies?

The band nod

Gordon - One more and that's it for both of us.

George (incredulous) - Why?

Gordon - Because you and I are in training.

 

Cut to small athletic park in West London.

 

Narrator - That's right, sports fans... (If you're in the UK, the theme from 'Superstars' plays. If you're in the US, please imagine the theme from 'Monday Night Football'.  if you happen to inhabit any one of the 270 + countries not mentioned, please use any suitable sporting theme you can imagine. Thank you.) Here we are for the 42nd annual Civil Service Sports Day. Gathered here in sunny West London are the cream of amateur sportsmen and women from Civil Service offices, the length and breadth of Britain. 

 

Cut to various patently unfit guys lying in the sun, smoking and drinking.

Narrator - And local lad Gordon, with his nominated  Civil Service ringer, George, are representing The Central London Tax Office.

 

Gordon and George approach the entrance. They're singing the very catchy tune by Snuggly.

George - Sly, Sly dem police are sly! (loud) Don Gorgon!

Gordon - Da king champion!

They're stopped by a bull headed security guard

Security guard -  Right, where's your game badges? 

They turn up the lapels on their leather jackets, displaying them to the unimpressed guard.

2nd Security guard (to George) - If you're competing, where's your outfit?

George - Got it on underneath my clothes.

Gordon - I've got mine in this bag.

Gordon lifts up his bag. The bag makes a clinking sound.

Gordon (evasive) - It's Lucozade.

George - Two bottles. One for each of us.

Gordon (stretching) - Yep. It's going to be thirsty work out there today.

George (joining in) - Thirsty work. Athletics. Oh yeah.

Gordon - Very thirsty.

Security Guard (still suspicious) - Competitors tent 100m to your right.

Gordon and George walk on.

Gordon - He's got a point. Where IS your outfit?

George - What outfit?

Gordon - For the 3000m steeplechase you agreed to run.

George stops and points to his trainers.

Gordon walks on, shaking his head.

George - You never said anything about an outfit!

 

Cut to Billy in girlfriend's flat, on phone.

Billy - So how often are you allowed to make calls?

Devon - As much as I want. And I had an Indian last night.

Billy - What was his name?

Devon - Very funny but that is one thing I don't joke about. Especially around here.

Billy - It's going ok? You're doing well?

Devon - Sweet as. Rent free. nice gym.  Good bunch of guys, learnt a lot about the business side of things already.

Billy - Good grief.

Devon - Anyway, got to go. Local cinema is showing 'Licence to Kill' this afternoon.

Billy - You're allowed to go out?

Devon - As long as we're back by curfew.

Billy shakes his head.

Devon - Now, promise me you'll call that number. I gave up my Naan bread to get that contact.

Billy -Ok, I will. Right after I go house hunting.

Devon - Why? What's up with the squat?

 

 

Cut to Billy and girlfriend making out on the couch in Billy's flat

A shrill voice screams out Billy's name from the street.

Billy looks out of the window to see Juliet standing beside a van with the windscreen hanging out. Blood is dripping from her crudely bandaged hand.

Juliet (shouts) - You've got to come down Billy?

Billy - What the fuck?

Juliet - I can't carry these carpets up two flights of fucking stairs AND dump the van all by myself now, can I?

 

Cut back to Billy on the phone 

Billy - I just think it's time to move on...

Narrator - A wise move, bold yin.

Cut back to the sports field.

George (sitting in the sun) - What events are you up for, big man?

Gordon - Discus.

George - What's to discuss?

Gordon - No, the discus.

George - Oh, the heavy Frisbee thing?

Gordon - Yeah, the heavy Frisbee thing. And the 100m.

George - Is that the sprint?

Gordon (now changed into his sports gear) - Yeah.

George (pointing) - No, is THAT the sprint?

Gordon looks around to see the competitors lined up.

The starting pistol fires and they start the sprint.

Gordon - Bollocks.

George - Bar?

Gordon - Throw me my trousers.

They enter the beer tent and spot a familiar face.

Davie - If it isn't the ones that got away? Alright guys!

George - Daviebhoy!

Gordon - Is the Glasgow crew here?

Davie - Don't worry, none of your former concubines made the trip.

Gordon - Phew! Drink?

Two gorgeous girls walk into the tent. Everyone's heads turn.  They walk up to Davie.

1st girl (flirty) - Have you found the pool, David?

George (shy) - Miss, I don't think there are any swimming facilities here.

2nd girl (equally flirty) - No silly. 8 ball. American pool.

Davie - It's in the club house, girls.

They thank Davie before they head towards the club house.

Gordon - Who the fuck are they?

Davie - Those are the McKendrick sisters. Caroline started work a couple of months after you guys left and Anna has been temping recently.

Gordon (to George) - I'm in love.

George - I love you too big man but I think we should concentrate on these two first.

Cut to sports field, announcer is calling.

Announcer - Competitor Gordon Moir! Would Gordon Moir please head to the discus circle or forfeit your place.

Cut back to the club house. Gordon and George are showing off at the pool table in order to impress the McKendrick girls.

Caroline - Fancy a game then?

George - Why not?

Gordon racks up and passes the white ball to George to break.

Gordon - What are we playing for?

Anna -  How does £20 a game sound?

Gordon (cocky) - Wow. As long as you don't get upset when you lose. We have played this once or twice before.

George - But if we win, you let us take you out for a drink.  Deal?

Caroline whispers in her sisters ear.

Caroline - Let's make this interesting. Empty your pockets.

George and Gordon empty their pockets.

Caroline - OK. If you lose, we take it all.

Gordon - And if we win?

Pause...

Anna - You get to come back to our hotel. For the night.

George hits the white ball so hard it flies off the table.

George - I meant that.

Cut to the squat.  Billy and his girlfriend are packing his belongings. He lifts up a massive bundle of mail that had been building up behind the door and deposits it in the bin.

Girlfriend - Are you sure none of that is yours?

Billy - Positive.

Girlfriend - Did you get the card I sent you last week?

Billy - Eh...no.

Girlfriend rummages around until she finds card.

Girlfriend - Here we are.

Billy - Ehh...sorry...

Girlfriend (wiping it clean) - And there's a letter here...for George.

Cut to Gordon and George sitting at a bus stop in disappointed silence.

George - It was nice of them to give us our bus fare home.

Gordon (frustrated) - We were just finding our range...

Cut to Gordon rattling the jaws of the pocket, Anna picks up her cue and sinks 6 balls in succession.

Cuts back to the bus stop.

George - I don't think 5 games to nil reflected how close it actually was.

Gordon spots a one pound coin on the ground and picks it up.

Gordon - Right, where's the nearest trivia machine?

Narrator -  Here's a question for the £20 jackpot. Who was the last Scotsman to lift a trophy at Wembley Stadium?

Cut to slow motion close up of George wearing a Scotland football jersey, standing in the Royal Box holding a replica of the English League Cup. He's delirious with happiness.

Narrator - Highlight of my career this is.

Cut to angry work manager.

Manager - Oi!  Get your fucking hi vi on and get those boxes over to the arena, pronto!

Cut to camera peeling away to show George putting on hi vi vest, placing the cup down and blowing kisses to the non existent crowd, much to the annoyance of the waiting tour party.

Narrator - One day you're lifting trophies at Wembley, the next you're away to Northampton.

Cut to band arriving at the venue. It looks like a barn but with very modern equipment.

Billy - Not bad, eh?

The band nod in agreement.

Narrator - And we're getting paid, which is always a bonus. One of the differences being a working band in London and in Glasgow is how little money you get paid down here. For instance, check out this gig...

Cut to small venue, heaving with people. White are playing and the audience are singing along with the song.

Narrator -...looks good doesn't it? But let's take a look at the numbers involved.

Cut to piece of paper.

Narrator - This is a standard London gig contract. See this?

Points to small print.

Narrator - We sell tickets at £3 per head of which we see 50p per ticket, maximum.  As we brought 70 people to the venue, our share works out at £35. From this, we have to pay £50 for use of the PA system and associated publicity. So, this seemingly lovely little earner has actually cost us money. We're paying to play. This is why gigs like Northampton, although out of the musical universe that is the London scene, help bands like us survive. Back to the gig...

Cut to the gig. The band are going down very well with the locals. Each member is enjoying himself as they are called back for an encore.

Billy - One more tune then off to the woods!

George - Did health farm Helga turn up?

The band laugh.

Billy - Yeah. She's standing to the right of my woman.

The band look at Billy's girlfriend. To her right, there is an overweight girl.

George - Looks like the fitness programme didn't work.

Billy - What do you mean? She's gorgeous.

Slippy - You need your fucking eyes tested, bold yin!

Billy - My mistake. I should have said she's standing on the right.

Cut to the other side of Billy's girlfriend. A stunning blonde is cheering the band.

Narrator - Say hello to the very lovely Katie. What do you think Gordon? Gordon?

Cut to Gordon, clearly smitten. Burt Bacharach plays 'What the world needs now...' in the background.

George - Gordon!

Billy  (pushes bass headstock into Gordon's ribs) - Tall one?

Slippy turns Gordon around and puts a guitar in his hand.

Slippy - Encore?

Gordon - Ehh...oh, right. Billy?

Billy (cool) - Yes...

Gordon - Need to ask you something...is there still a place available on the woodland jolly?

Narrator - Goodbye cruel World of Fabric...

 

Cut to the band saying their farewells outside of the venue.

 

Narrator - Looks like Slippy and I will need a lift back to London tonight.

Cut to George and Slippy getting into a car when Billy's girlfriend runs out to stop the car. Billy follows her. Gordon is putting his best moves on Katie.

Girlfriend - George, forgot to tell you.  There was a letter for you at the squat.

George - Really? I can't remember telling anyone where I was staying.

Billy - I put it through the door at Devon's flat.

George - No worries. (sings) If you go down to the woods tonight, you're sure of a big surprise!

Billy (laughs) - You could learn something from nature, youngster.  Tuning into our environment, at one with the universe...and all that!

George (sings) - If you go down to the woods tonight, in search of some hairy pies!

Billy - Well, there is that too...

Cut to campsite, Gordon and Billy are trying to light a fire. The girls are cold and unimpressed. In the background, another group of campers are strumming an out of tune guitar, singing a tame version of 'We shall overcome'.

Billy - Bastarding thing won't light. We're blowing this, tall one.

Gordon - Fuck this. Give it some of this bad boy.

He hands Billy a bottle of Gin.

Narrator - Science for beginners time.  Gin or juniper flavoured ethyl alcohol is bracketed in the same category as benzene, gasoline and aviation fuel. So is it a) flammable or b) fucking burny burny, what are you trying to do, set the borough on fire, you mad bastard? Answers on a post card to Northampton Prison...

Cut to car driving back down the M1. A friend of the band is driving George and Slippy back to London.

Friend - So, you didn't fancy staying for the camping trip?

George laughs.

George - Kumbaya and cardigans?  Bollocks to that.

Cut back to campsite, Billy and Gordon are very drunk.  They've discarded their shirts and are dancing with the girls around the now massive fire, chanting.

Gordon (holding half a chicken, grunts) - Fire good?

Billy (tearing into a spit roasted pig, shouts) - FIRE GOOD!

Narrator - While the lads were getting down and pagan in the Northants woods, I thought that it would be expedient to get some beauty sleep as I had a date with the lovely Lucy on Saturday!

Cut to George standing in gay bar.

Narrator - OK, I'll have a few before I go to sleep. A few beers, that is. Don't be getting any ideas.  This is the only place I can get a booze up after hours around here.  Honest.

Cut to George stumbling back into Devon's flat. He sees the letter on the welcome mat, staggers and picks it up. He's too drunk to read it so he throws it behind him and collapses on the sofa with his jacket half off. Cut to hands of clock speeding around until it's morning. George stands up, stretches then scratches his unruly hair.

Narrator - I wonder how the lads got on last night? A couple of Woody Guthrie's then a sly bunk up in the tent?

Cut back to the woods.

Billy - Tall one.

Gordon (quiet) - Shhh!  What is it?

Billy - Forgot to tell you but Devon put me on to this guy who wants to manage us.

Gordon - Great but I think we should save this discussion until we're in the clear, don't you?

Cut away to reveal Billy, Gordon and the girls hiding from the woodland rangers, a fire crew and the Northampton police. They are dishevelled after a night of pyro partying got out of control. A film crew report from the scene.

Narrator - I'm sure they're fine.

Cut to the Baker Street HQ of Empower Work agency.

 

George walks into reception, finds his sticky name badge and checks himself out in the mirror.

Narrator - Scrubs up not too shabby...

George smells his breath on his hand.

Narrator - Better sink a few mints. Take no chances, take no prisoners! I suppose a good word to describe me back then would be a combination of the words, narcissist and arsehole. Narshole, perhaps? Anyway...

George walks out onto the glorious sunshine of the roof garden and is handed a glass of Pimm's by a bar man.

George looks at it and hands it straight back.

George - Can I have a drink?

Bar man - That is a drink.

George - No, this is a fucking fruit salad.

A female voice speaks...

Female - You won't know if you like it until you try it.

George turns around and sees Lucy.

 

They embrace before remembering that they're still only colleagues. They pull away, shake hands, both slightly embarrassed and find a spot on the roof terrace.

 

Narrator - Aside from recalling these tales, I tend not to spend too much time in reminiscence but there are moments that you'll recount when you are old and perhaps your memory starts playing tricks on you.  Was it really that warm,  that...beautiful? I like to think it was. There really is nothing better than remembering those moments when you were at your most alive, your most vital.

 

The sun sets and George and Lucy are still together.

 

Narrator - Let's take this into the night...

Lucy - I'll just powder my nose and I'll see you downstairs.

George - Cool...

George goes to walk down the stairs when he spots a familiar face.

George - Is that you...Snuggly?

Snuggly (also wearing a name badge) - Hey man!  You an Empower employee too?

George  (nods) - I am! You're a temp? I can't stop singing that bloody song of yours...Sly, sly dem police are sly!

Snuggly - Bills to pay mate. And there's a cushy job I'm trying to get.

George - Oh yeah?

Snuggly - Student's House. Worked there last summer as a porter. Money's good and as there's hundreds of available young ladies, it's the gig all of us want.

George - I'll keep a look out for that.

Snuggly - Get in line bwoy!

George notices Snuggly's name badge. It says N. Styles.

George - What does the N stand for?

Snuggly - My dad was a Man Utd fan so, take a wild guess.

George (laughs) - Nobby??

Snuggly - Norbert actually.  But we'll stick to Snuggly, eh?

George offers knuckles and Snuggly laughs as he grabs George's fist and shakes.

Narrator - And thanks for the tea, Sly Norbert!

Cut to tube train, Lucy and George are seated in a quiet carriage.

 

Lucy - So, you're a singer then? Sing me something.

George makes a jokey stab at an Elvis song before he and Lucy start laughing.

George - OK, I've done my bit.  Now, you sing for me.

Lucy blushes.

Lucy - No, I'm shy.

George - I'm afraid that the Clarksdale Convention rules prohibit you from backing down from a sing off. (serious) It's the law. 

Lucy looks about and sidles up close to George. She starts to sing, very quietly.

Lucy - 'I feel so bad I got a worried mind, I'm so lonesome all the time, Since I left my baby behind...on Blue Bayou.'

Narrator - Call the London Fire Brigade. And she didn't need no gin.

 

Cut to George and Lucy arriving at Devon's flat.

 

Lucy takes her shoes off and leaves them by the door. She spots the letter meant for George and picks it up.

George drags her towards the bedroom.

Lucy (playfully) - Don't you want to read your mail.  It may be important.

George - It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow.

Lucy puts it on the phone table beside the door and follows George. 

Focus stays on letter.

Narrator - And that's how it was. At this precise time in my life, nothing else mattered.

Cut to a Scottish wedding party, the celebrations are in full swing. A large circle is formed, smaller kids are spinning around in the periphery as the bride and groom dance in the centre of the dance floor. Viewed from behind, the kilted groom finishes dancing, mops his brow and makes his way to the bar for a much needed drink. Another man joins him and they clink glasses.

Donny - Congratulations Brido, great party!

Brian - Cheers, Skull man.

They each gulp down their pints and catch their breath.

Donny - You did send him an invite, didn't you?

Brian - Of course I did! His mum gave me his address in Camden.

Pause.

Donny - I'm disappointed in Geo. He should have been here tonight.

Brian - Mrs P says that he's not called in ages. I hope he's alright.

Donny nods.  Andy joins them for a drink. They raise their glasses.

Brian - Absent friends.

End