Sunday 23 February 2014

Episode 20 - Coda




Everybody Wants to Rule the World by George Paterson
Episode 20 - Coda
Opens outside of Presley's bar on Tottenham Court Road.  George and Gordon are struggling to take in Billy's news.
Gordon (stunned) - Can I ask why you want to leave?
Billy looks pained.

Narrator - Years of painful rejection, followed by the bitter grind of a city that doesn't care had started to take their toll. This was not a decision Billy took lightly, it was something that he'd been struggling with for months. His search for the spiritual meant that he wanted more from life than what he was getting by being an itinerant musician. He was tired of the battling to keep up but most importantly, he felt that he could no longer connect with what we were doing musically. He appreciated that Gordon and I may feel differently but he hoped we'd understand his decision.

George -  What are we going to do about the Powerhaus? It's only a couple of weeks away.

Billy - I'll fulfil my obligations.  

Gordon - What if we get offered a deal? There is still plenty of interest.  And with Towards Jerusalem's manager...

Billy - Look, I don't expect any favours or preferential treatment from this moment on. You've got to do what's right for the band.

George - There will always be a place for you in this band, Billy.

Gordon (offering his hand) - Absolutely.  

The three members huddle.

Billy walks off with his bass leaving Gordon and George sitting on the bench.

Gordon sighs.

Gordon - 10 years I've been with him. I first hooked up with Billy the night of the Man City v Tottenham Cup final replay. He was so stoned that he couldn't remember which drink was his. So, he downed every drink on the bar, mine included...(laughs)...we had to fight our way out of the Victoria Bar that night.  The next day at rehearsal, I was dreading what state he'd be in.  In he waltzes, plugs in and blows my head off with a note perfect version of the Cowboy Song. Man...One thing I will say about the bold yin. He never stopped surprising me.

George - But him leaving has given us a real problem.

Gordon - I know but we'll think about auditioning some bass players after the Powerhaus.

George - No, it's not that.

Gordon - What is it then?

George - Who's going to help us lug all this gear back to Students House?

George points to 2 big PA speakers and amp.

Gordon - Bollocks.

Cut to George and Gordon struggling with the weight of the equipment.


Narrator - Goodnight bold yin.

Cut to council offices. 

Narrator - Meanwhile, I had other challenges to face up to.

Plump woman - So, your landlord has kicked you out?

George - Yes.

Narrator - Not exactly true but an urban tent is no place to bring up a child.

George - And as you can see, this is causing untold pressure on my heavily pregnant wife (cuts to smiling Ricky, who waves through the window) and I. We desperately need a house. Can you help?

Narrator - Remarkably, she could.

Cut to George and Ricky standing in the doorway of their new house.

Narrator - OK, it was a duplex in Dagenham but beggars can't be choosers. And as I was sampling the debatable delicacies of the east...

Cut to Ricky trying to feed jellied eels to an unimpressed George.

Narrator - ... Gordon was heading in the opposite direction.

Cut to fancy hotel on the Algarve. A porter leads the way, carrying a guitar case. He opens the door...

Porter - Your room Sir.

Gordon walks in and opens the window on the balcony.  The scenery is breath taking.

Gordon takes a deep breath, smiles and looks to the next balcony. JT is standing there, smoking.

Gordon nods and takes in the sun kissed vista.

Gordon - Hot enough for you, JT?

JT (snarls) - They don't need a drummer. They need a fucking lizard with forearms.

Narrator - With Billy bailing and Gordon going all Alan Whicker, there was nothing stopping me being in the bosom of my soon to be growing family.

Cut to bar. George is drinking at a ferocious pace.

Narrator - Nothing except this terrible thirst I have.  A few months ago I was skipping and bouncing. But now? If truth be told, I'm a bit concerned.  No.  Scrub that. I'm terrified.  The boy has got to become a man, and quick.  This was my decision and my responsibility. I may have been carried on a tidal wave of emotion but it was all done of my free will. I loved Ricky and I wanted this. But what if I fuck up as a father? What if I can't provide for my family? After all, I'm just a lowly paid stiff with little chance of promotion. And that's before we get to the music.  What if the bold yin's instinct was right?

George is getting increasingly more intoxicated.

Narrator - Since we formed, I'd never doubted for one minute that this band was going to set the world ablaze with our unique style and my swivelling hips. Until now that is. Billy's brutal assessment of our status blind sided me. I really didn't see it coming. Doubt was never a part of deal. Now, it lives in the lexicon of my languor.  My armour has been pierced. As a fellow alcohol stricken compatriot once said, 'To see oursels as others see us!'  Maybe I didn't see the signs because I didn't want to see them. When I was younger, I used to look at photos of bands in magazines and books and thought 'They look like they've got the perfect life'. Turns out that most of them hated each others fucking guts or were jealous of the guitarist because he wrote all the songs and was making more money than the rest. Our lack of tangible success meant that we didn't have the opportunity to grow to hate each other but Billy's departure, although not the catalyst, was one further layer of melancholy I was choosing to wear. One minute I'm the Rock, the next I've turned into the Ultimate Worrier.

Cut to angry Taxi driver dragging a semi conscious George out of his cab and a worried Ricky having to pay him.

Narrator - And as a result, my behaviour became less tolerable. As ever though, a distraction was never too far away.

Cut to Students House.

Snuggly, Suggs and Tone are looking at the staff notice board.

Suggs - Here George...you'll like this.

George reads the notice.

DRAW FOR INVITATION TO ROYAL GARDEN PARTY - TUESDAY IN THE KENNEDY MEETING ROOM -17.00.

George - What's that all about?

Snuggly - Normally, the directors take the invitations themselves but in their infinite wisdom, have decreed that all departments will be entered into a draw for tickets.

George - That's a stupid idea.

Tone - I quite fancy a little trip to Buck House.

Suggs - Relax.  It won't be any of us. Can you imagine their faces if we rocked up?

The group laugh.

Narrator - The real reason they decided on the more democratic route was because Jocky threatened to tell the press where last years profits went. (cut to yacht in harbour) And precisely where the profits were moored...

Cut to Kennedy Room.

Director - Let's get this over with. Three invitations, one each from Conference and Catering, one from Programme. Accounts have decided to forgo their chance.

Jocky looks and smiles at the unimpressed Accounting department. The chef pulls out the first name.

Director - First out is Rina from Catering.

The elderly cashier is delighted. Marky looks disappointed.

Director - Next is Val from Programming. And finally, surely some mistake...

Jocky looks at the ticket.

Jocky - No mistake Sir.

Director (disbelief) - Third is George from Conference?

A gasp goes up. Tone and Suggs let out a guffaw.

George (audible) - Fucking hell!

Cut to morning in the family home.

A heavily pregnant Ricky is straightening George's tie.

Ricky - Promise me one thing.

George - Name it.

Ricky - Don't be bothering the Queen. She probably doesn't like rock music. Or Celtic.

George - OK then. I promise.

Ricky - Also, we've got to talk about my father's offer later so don't come home drunk again.  Please?

George leaving the house.

George - That's two things!

Narrator - Oh yeah,  Ricky's father had made me an offer that I was too drunk to consider, never mind refuse. Anyway, I digress...


Cut to George at Students House with Tone and Suggs.

Narrator - I've been a fan of the Beatles since I was a kid.  And if it was good enough for them...

Tone puts down some powder and Suggs lights up a spliff.

Cut to George at Buckingham Palace with his colleagues.

Val - Are you alright?

George's eyes are glazed.

George - Where's the Queen? I've got something for her.

Cut to roof. Snipers are in contact with security on the ground.

Radio - Long haired male heading towards HM. Approach with caution.

George spots the Royal Party. He reaches into his pocket as he approaches the Queen.

Two top hatted security men spin in and lift George by the elbows away.

Security - Take your hand out slowly son...

George removes hand to show one complimentary ticket for White at the Powerhaus.

Narrator - She looked as if she could do with a bit of cheering up. That's what the ticket was for. Lady Diana was there that day too.  If I'd have seen her, I'd definitely have given her one.

Cut to Taxi pulling up at George's house.  A disappointed Ricky is already waiting with the money for the driver.

Narrator -  I've heard it said that Man must embark on a process of self-discovery in which he uncovers his Divine nature. And from the looks of it, I've still got a bit further to go...but first....

Cut to the Powerhaus, back stage.

George - Are you sure you're up for this?

Billy nods as he tunes up.

Billy - Errol from the shop is going to be videoing it. 

George (fixing the collar of his suit jacket) - Cool.

Billy - Nice suit.

George - What do you think about Switzerland?

Billy - Toblerone. Mountains. Death.

George - That's what I thought.

Gordon and JT walk in.

Gordon - Sorry we're late.

Billy - Sun tan!

Gordon - Good to see some lilywhite Scottish men.

JT - Aye, there's only so many toned and tanned bodies one can look at.

Billy - Must have been fun.

JT (sucking the life out of a cigarette) - It was so much fun that my posterior disengaged from the remainder of my body and has moved to a new post code.

George - That'll be a yes then?


JT - Put it this way, the big man was in some actress until the council received complaints from the other guests about the smell.

Gordon - And that's enough Postcards from the Edge for one night. Shall we, gentlemen?

Billy - One more for the road.

Narrator - Live.  Without the aid of a safety net...

Band are very tight but the audience isn't as big as they hoped.

Narrator - We still have the footage of this seminal moment. If you ever see it, there's something you will notice. OK, Gordon and JT look Algarve healthy but despite the dark tan yin enjoying himself (cut to Gordon letting rip) it is evident that we aren't the all for one, one for all musketeers anymore.
The band end and Billy lifts his bass to the heavens. Gordon and JT head backstage while George goes to the little private corner of the bar, hidden from the audience.

George - Seven pints of Tennents Extra.

The bar man lines up the pints. George starts downing them.

George is sinking pint after pint when he hears a familiar voice from behind.
Voice – Is that the beginnings of a bald patch I see before me?
George turns round to find...
George – Devon!
They embrace.
Devon sees George’s smile.
Devon – That’s more like it.
George – What are you doing out?
Devon – Weekend pass.
George – But it’s Wednesday..
Devon – Ah. About that...
Cut to Devon walking out the front door of his open prison again.
Narrator – Seems that Her Majesty’s security is very liquid and only applies in person.
The rest of the band enter the private bar area.
Billy – There’s George...Devon!!!!!!!! What the...
The rest of the band welcome back their estranged manager.
Gordon – So, are you back to lead us to the promised land?
Devon – No but I am going to set my people free.
JT (peering around Gordon) – So you’re Devon.  I’ve heard average things about you.
Devon – Charmed, I’m sure. Anyway, I’ve been contacted by a certain Mr Alistair Mair and he’s asked for my permission to talk to you.
Gordon – Not that he needs it.
Devon – True but I did give him my blessing. I can’t take you there. But he can.
The band raise their glasses.
Devon – Right, who’s up for a night of festivities at Myra’s?
The band look at their watches, look in other directions...
Gordon – Eh...maybe another time...
Devon – What’s happened to you guys?  Is no one willing to party like it’s 1985?

Cut to Devon’s car, driving fast down quiet road. Only George has taken up the offer.
Devon – I’m surprised you came, with the baby due and all that...
George – Yeah...will do me good to get out of the house.
Narrator – Out the house? I’ve hardly spent any time at all with my expectant bride.
Devon - If I didn’t know better I’d say you were scared, even terrified at the prospect.
George – Ehh...ummm...maybe.
Devon – Like the song says...’You’ve got a good thing going’.  Don’t mess it up.
George – I won’t.  But tonight...
Devon – Tonight, we party.
Narrator – Who knows what tomorrow brings?
Devon – Fancy a little bit of Charlie Chizzle?
George – Why not?
Devon – It’s in a hidden compartment near the gear stick.
George searches but can’t find it.
Devon stretches down and feels around....
Devon – Here...(click)... reach in there.
George – Devon!!
The sound of metal upon metal as Devon’s car collides head on with another.
Cut to the inside of the car. Both Devon and George are injured but are still conscious.
Devon – George! Are you alright? (he goes to move) Aaarrgghhh...
George (spits blood out)  - How’s my face?
George laughs nervously as he drags himself out of the passenger seat.
Devon and George get out of the car. The passengers of the other car get out at the same time. They are
equally shaken up.
Devon – Are you guys ok?
Driver – Yeah mate.  Are you?
Devon – We’re alright.  Are you alright?
Driver and his passengers confer.
Driver – We’re alright. Are we cool?
Devon – We’re cool.
The sound of a police siren in the distance.
Devon – The police should be here any minute.
Driver – Yeah. About that...
Both parties acknowledge each other before running off in different directions, leaving two abandoned cars.

Cut back to the Powerhaus. Billy and Gordon are talking at the now empty bar.
Billy - George said that he's got a new song you guys have been working on.  Any good?
Gordon - Ehhh...
Cut to Endurance studio.  George is going over a strange song with Gordon and JT. Fozzy looks on baffled.
George - And then it goes....'Hey doorman...where are you going with that frown...'
Gordon tries to follow and smiles weakly at his singer.
Gordon -What do you think, JT?
JT - I'm thinking you either pay me double to record this pish or you'll be using a drum machine to finish it.

Cuts back to the gig.

Gordon - Needs some work...
Billy shakes his head.
Billy - He has been drinking a bit too much recently.
Gordon - Tell me about it.  JT has started calling him 'The Kettle'.
Billy - 'The Kettle'?
Gordon - Because he's always steaming.
Billy laughs.
Billy - What about this manager...sounds good?
Gordon - It's a very delicate balance. He's still got Towards Jerusalem but is after the next thing. Can't push too hard as he's the kind that might walk.
Billy - So what now?
Gordon - Jerusalem have a gig at the Marquee next week but here's the thing. There's an after show party at Simon Le Bon's stables in Wandsworth. That's when we'll make the move.
Billy - What about the youngster?
Gordon - I just need to make sure that he stays away from the bar before, during and after the show.
Billy (downing drink) - Good luck with that!
Gordon - Anyway, what have you been up to, bold yin?
Billy - I've been taking bass lessons.
Gordon laughs.

Narrator - Typical Billy.

Cut to front door. Bell rings then door opens.
Myra – Good God! What happened?

George and Devon enter and Myra tends to their wounds. George spies a bottle of Scotch and takes a large swig.
Myra - So, when's the baby due?
George - Last Monday.
Myra and Devon look at each other. They shake their heads before Devon pulls a wedge of notes from his pocket.
George - Prison treating you well?
Devon - Myra, call a taxi for Dagenham.
Devon walks George to the door. He's holding a tissue to stem the blood from his broken nose.
Devon - Listen, it's time to walk the straight line...
Narrator - Never a truer word...albeit from the mouth of a convicted felon.
George gets into the cab, looks out of the window at Devon.
Narrator - When Devon left prison, legally this time, he moved to Ireland and kept looking for the angle...the break...But it didn't come for him. I never saw Devon again. I still think of him often. And with great fondness.

Cut to cab dropping George at his house. He walks in to find Ricky sitting on the edge of the bed with her bag packed.
George - Now?
Ricky - Now.
George runs back out of the house and hails the taxi that he just left.

Cut to a hospital bed, Ricky wakes and looks at George, stretched out on a chair, cradling a new born baby.

Ricky looks at George and he's fast asleep, smiling with baby clutched close.
Ricky - When we get home, you really should speak to my father. He likes you. Honestly, he does. And he thinks that, since Gordon and Billy are doing other things, you should spend some time with him, learning the family business.
George is silent. Ricky notices that he's asleep.

Ricky takes the baby back.

Narrator - Sweet dreams are made of this. A precious moment in my life.

Cut to Marquee, Billy turns down George's offer of a drink as Towards Jerusalem arrive on stage to rapturous applause. They are watching from the wings.

Billy - My head is still thumping from your 'wet the baby's head' session.

Cut to large group of people in Suggs's flat. AC/DC are playing and George is surfing on an ironing board. It collapses under his weight. A large cheer goes up.

George - Lightweight.
Billy - Best to keep a cool head for the after show party. And the meeting.
George - What does a manager see in this? (pointing at the band). I mean, look at them and look at us. Without the big man and JT, they are pish.
Billy - Their fans like them plenty.
George (grumbling) - Achh...
The band come off stage and Gordon grabs George.

Gordon - You come in the car with me. We'll get 15 minutes with Alistair once we get there. He's definitely interested!
George - Why wouldn't he be?
Gordon - Are you coming bold yin?
Billy - Afraid not. But I'll be with you in spirit. Vaya con Dios boys.

Cut to the car..

Gordon - What did you think of tonight?
George - The beer was watered down.
Gordon - No, the show.
George - Great venue. You looked like you enjoyed it.
Gordon - This is not the time to get jealous. We can only get through to Alistair if you give him the best schmooze you've ever delivered. I need you to sell US to HIM. Remember, charm is the key.
George winds down the window and spits out.
George - Charm is my middle name.

Car pulls into the Stables. It is an impressive spread.  People are milling around, a DJ is playing some jazzy, chill out music.
Narrator - Duran Du-fucking-Ran! Nice work if you can get it. Now, more importantly, where's the bar?
George walks around drinking, admiring the scenery.
Gordon walks over with Alistair.
Gordon - I'd like to introduce you to the singer of my own band, the guy I was telling you about. This is George.
George and Alistair shake hands.
Alistair - Gordon tells me that you liked Duran back in the day.
George - Yeah. Until they fucked it up..
Gordon (quickly interjecting) - Didn't you work with Duran Duran, Alistair?
Alistair - I worked on their '85 tour of the States. Minor role of course but...
George - Interesting...
Alistair - So, what did you think of the show tonight?
Gordon looks over at George with trepidation.
George - Where do I begin...
Narrator - This particular car crash was in slow motion and seven years in the making...
George - The best thing about your guys...was my guys.
Alistair - Oh...
George - Your singer is fine but let's be honest, he's not me, is he? He's good at what he does but what you need is a guy who can write songs, looks great and has a bit of a death wish.  That would be me. But you would need balls the size of St Pauls to take us on.
Alistair looks at Gordon for help.
George - Well Alistair, how big are your balls?
Gordon - I think what George is saying is...
George - What I'm saying is that your band is pish and that you'd be a fucking idiot to turn down White to stick with them.
Alistair - Well...it was nice to meet you.
George - Likewise.
Alistair walks away, shaking his head.
Gordon - What the fuck man?
George slugs back his drink.
George - He'll be back.
Gordon - And if he's not?
George - Then fuck him. He's a moron if he can't see that we are superior in every department.
Gordon - But you need to play the game. Don't you fucking get that?
George - Fuck him and fuck playing games. I'll do it on my terms or not at all. I don't need it.
Gordon - Well I do. I want to play music and if that means occasionally playing footsie with some suit in order to get the deal, so be it. Damn it! How fucking close do we have to get? Answer me this...what do you want to do with your life? Continue to stack chairs for a living? C'mon to grips...
George finishes his drink and throws the bottle against the wall of the courtyard.
George - At least I'm not someone's paid help. See you on the other side.
George walks out and boards a night bus.

Narrator - This was an opportunity the likes of which don't come around every day. Or every decade for that matter. One rarely realises when defining moments are in the vicinity but as soon as I offered my unwarranted, snide opinion on this decent working group of musicians, I instinctively knew I was wrong. And worse still, I let down my friend. But I was sinking. In a pool of my own masochistic bitterness and insecurity.


Cut to George walking eating a bag of chips.


Entering his house, he throws his half empty bag of chips into the bin, takes off his jacket, washes his hands and lies down beside his wife and baby.
Ricky stirs.
Ricky - How did it go?
George - They loved us...obviously... but I don't think they're right for us.
Ricky - I'm sorry.
George - Ricky, what's the scene like over in Switzerland?

Cut to bar...

Gordon and George are sitting having a beer in silence.
George - When are you off to Europe again?
Gordon - Next week. But I'll be back in November. So, get working on those songs and...
George - I'm thinking of going to Switzerland.
Gordon - For a break?
George - Maybe a bit longer.
Gordon - Oh...
Silence.
George (insistent)  - This isn't the end..
Gordon - Of course not.
George - I fully intend to be back regularly to record and to...
Gordon - Play?
George - That'll be a bit harder but I'll look for openings over there.
Gordon - Good.
George - So, we are clear.
Gordon - Crystal.
George - This is just a different approach.
Gordon - Switzerland, eh?

Narrator - November came quickly and with a renewed sense of purpose, Gordon and I fucking went for it.
Cut to George, Gordon, Billy and JT in studio.
Narrator - And the bold yin stepped into the breach to help us out while a content JT, flush from the Jerusalem tour did his bit without too much grumpy fuss. 30 songs in 30 days.  Got the bones of our back catalogue tidied up and ready for press, should another Alistair arrive. And it was good. Hell, I even cut back on the booze which had one rather unexpected side effect...

George stands outside the bathroom door. Ricky is inside vomiting.
George - Are you alright in there, sweetheart? I've just made breakfast.  Your favourite. Scrambled eggs.
Ricky - Bleurrgghhh....

Cut back to studio.

Gordon - Not again?
George nods.
Billy - Congratulations!
JT - You need to be putting that on ice for a while.  Give the poor girl a fucking break.
Billy - When are you off?
George - Ricky's heading over with the baby on the 17th, I leave Students House on the 19th so I'll have 3 days to tie everything up before I fly out.
Billy - Have you told the guys in Scotland?

Cut to Brian and Donny sitting in Brian's kitchen.

Donny - Are you sure that's what he said?
Brian - Trust me.
Donny - Nah, you're wrong.  It was definitely fucking Swaziland.

Cut back to studio.

Gordon - You'll be having a little light libation before you go all Lindt and Sprungli on us...?

Narrator - Abso-fucking-lutely.

Cut to montage of drinking, partying and dancing at Students House. Marky, Suggs and Jocky spray beer towards George as he dances on a table. Joey and Catey bring in a large cake and put it on a long bar table.
George - Really? For me?
Jocky - You know you want to.
Suggs and Tone (chant)...George...George...George...whoops George!!!
George - I'm touched.
He takes a flying leap and lands in the cake sending residue flying everywhere.
Marky - Farewell, Gateau Blaster.

Narrator - Everything dies. Fades. Turns to dust. Except for memories. And cake.
Cut to George looking around before turning the lights off in his empty house. He locks the door, puts the keys through the letterbox and gets into the waiting taxi, clutching a bag and his guitar.

The cab pulls up to a restaurant.

Narrator - I could make some Last Supper quip here but it would spoil the mood.
George walks in and joins his band mates at their table.
Gordon (to waiter) - Chicken Pakora and a pint of Stella for the boy. Anything for you guys?
Billy - I'm good.
JT - Actually, I'm off.
George - Damn.
JT - Just wanted to make sure that you were definitely going. You are a drunken pain in the arse but ...
George (laughs) - But what?
JT - You were actually a very good front man. I enjoyed playing with you.
George gives JT a hug.
JT - Excuse me, I think you just dropped your gay card.
Laugh
JT - Seriously, all the best.
JT leaves Billy, Gordon and George.

Narrator - And then there were three. As it's ever been.

Cut to the trio laughing, drinking and reminiscing. Scenes of their earlier misadventures are interspersed with the stories.
George - And he had the biggest fucking hands!
Gordon - I chased the wee bastard around the van! I was going to kill him!
Billy and George are crying with laughter.
Narrator - It was Yeats who said, 'Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say that my glory was I had such friends'.

Cut to outside of restaurant, it is now dark. The trio brace against the cold night air.

Billy - I've got to split but here, I got you this for your move.
He pulls out a trappers hat from his bag.
George laughs and puts it on immediately.
He embraces Billy.
George - Thanks bold yin.  For everything.
Billy - We had fun, didn't we? But don't forget, it's only over when it's over.
Billy heads off.
Gordon - What time's your flight?
George - I've got about 2 and a bit hours. So, I need to make a move.
Gordon - I'll walk you to the station.

Light snow is starting to fall, commuters are rushing towards the station as group of shoppers watch the carol singers under the sparkling lights.
Narrator - It's strange. Although I'll always be a Glasgow boy, London does get under your skin.

Gordon and George arrive at the station.
George - Well...that's me...
Gordon - I didn't get you a stupid hat but I did find this.
He removes a photograph from his pocket.
Gordon - Just so you don't forget your old mates.
George looks at the battered picture.  It is a picture of the band soon after they formed, partying at Nico's.

Gordon - Remember that night? Look at Stevie's daft face...and I think that's Brian behind me, kissing some chick.
George (getting emotional) - Thanks mate.

Narrator - Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. Dr Seuss said that. He also said 'You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in whatever direction you choose'. And I chose this path.

George - Listen, I'm sorry about the Alistair fuck up.
Gordon - Don't worry about it. We'll get another chance.
George - You still think we can make it?
Gordon (with conviction) - Absolutely.

George gives Gordon a hug, boards the train and leaves for the airport.

Cut to the airport. George is looking out of the window as Christmas songs play.
Narrator - How did I get here?
He looks at the departure board.
Narrator - This is not my time.

Close up on George's eyes as the rain starts falling.

Pull back to the same eyes, more lined around the edges. Camera moves around to show a tiled bathroom. The room is steamy, there is someone in the shower. A portable radio plays in the background. The inanely cheerful DJ speaks.
DJ - And now for a classic from Softly Softly, here's 'Holding Back the Streams of Your Angelic Temptation'. Don't forget to tune into tomorrow's drive time show for a chance to win tickets to see their comeback concert at the...
The inhabitant of the shower growls and desperately tries to reach the radio which is perched on the window ledge. He fails to grasp it properly and the radio crashes to the ground, and cracks open, thus ending the broadcast of the song. The inhabitant of the shower growls again.
A towel, which has been hanging on the edge of the shower door is removed and wrapped around the bottom half of the inhabitant who is now shown to be a man in his late 40’s with cropped short hair. The man is clearly not in peak physical condition. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror, wipes the misty glass clear then begins to shave. He looks familiar but very serious.

Narrator – Fear and time. My mortal enemies. One I must defeat and to the other, I will undoubtedly succumb. Days like this are a constant reminder of this struggle.

Cut to a sparse room and the man is sitting on the edge of a seat, staring blankly into the middle distance. He begins to dress. The clothes he’s about to wear are sombre. A black suit and shirt. He looks in the mirror and brushes away some fluff and lint. He looks at himself sideways on, breathing in and out, checking his stomach. The time is coming up to half past seven.

Narrator - I will never get used to this.

He spots a skewed picture of his younger self with a couple of children.  He straightens the picture and wipes a little dust from the top of its frame.

Narrator – Switzerland.  I can see now that this wasn’t my finest idea. Thought it was at the time but what was that they say about the road to hell? Not that I’m saying Switzerland is hell. It’s a perfectly lovely place to stash ones ill gotten loot. It makes no judgement, does Switzerland. It doesn’t discriminate. Despot, dictator or diva, it will happily bury both you and your money. And in this case, my marriage too. But I can't blame Ricky or the Swiss too much for that. She was just a kid. We both were. Far too young and callow for such a responsibility. She didn't let our failure hold her back for too long. Once she stopped using the name Ricky, a misheard nickname that stuck, she reverted back to her real name - Regine - became a successful businesswoman, big house and all that. I think she's onto husband number 3 now but her spark, that inner glow is gone and I must take much of the blame for that.  For my penance, I quit the booze, cleaned up my act and tried to be a decent man, albeit too late to save our doomed union. Going back to the my favourite Dr, the sweet Mr Geissler said, 'How did it get so late, so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before I had June. My goodness, how the time has flewn.'

George spots another picture. It's the one that Gordon gave him as he left the country. George touches the picture.

Narrator - Sometimes, the most significant moments in ones life are right there in front of you, while you're waiting for them to appear.
George smiles, ruefully.
Narrator - I wonder where my old friends are now?

George looks in the mirror again and straightens his tie. He picks up an old guitar. He feels his way around the neck and begins to strum a few familiar chords.

An attractive woman in her 40's walks into the room and kisses George tenderly.
Woman (reassuring) - You're going to be fine, babe.
In the distance, the sound of a horn tooting.

George leaves the room and walks along a warmly lit hallway and down a staircase. On the wall of the staircase, there are numerous pictures of happy family life. Music is playing on the kitchen radio. A young female voice calls out.
Voice - Can someone get the door?
Another young female voice replies.
2nd female - I'm still making his sandwiches! You get it!

The first female goes to open the door and at the end of the driveway, two men get out of a mini van. We see them from behind but their voices are familiar.

1st male - Those hydrangeas are coming along nicely. A quite beautiful flower head.  And that Hibiscus cutting we gave them has bloomed perfectly. He'll get some nice tea from that.
2nd male stops.
2nd Male - What the fuck has happened to you, tall one?
Cut to front view. It is Gordon and Billy, much older but looking well.
Gordon - That's simple suburban domesticity, bold yin. You should try it sometime.
Billy - Not a chance. It's taken us 20 years to get a place on the Highgate Coffee Morning Cake Council. And we're not about to give that up lightly.
Gordon - Indeed. What chance does one have against the might of the HCMCC?
1st female - Dad!!  The guys are here!

Billy (excited)  - Ooohh! Is that Cinnamon Carrot Cake, I smell?
Gordon - Hawl! One slice max. And a small one at that. We don't want to exceed the weight limit for the stage like we did in Somerset, now do we?
A little boy approaches.
Boy - Hi Belly.  Hi Goblin.
Gordon gives him a high five and Billy bumps knuckles as George arrives.
Gordon - How are we feeling soldier?
George (confident) - Like a mean motherfu..
Woman - I don't think your son is ready to hear that kind of language.
George - Oops! Sorry.. OK, I'm ready.
Daughter No1 (handing over a food bag) - This is for the road, Dad.
Daughter No 2 (handing him a case) - And don't forget your guitar!
George embraces and says goodbye to his family at the end of the path as Gordon and Billy get back into the mini van.
Woman (smiles) - Watch out for those groupies.
George - With my shoulder and knees? See you next Sunday.
Gordon - Nearly 50 and he still can't fucking drive.
Billy laughs as he scoffs a piece of cake, Gordon honks the horn.

Cut to the family going back inside. George stops and looks back.

Narrator - There are bands who get together again for money. There are those who do it for status and for the lifestyle. That's not how it was for Billy, Gordon and I. It was always about the music and how some little tune could lift us or break our hearts while raising us to heights collectively that we were never able to reach alone. And sharing that music with the world, whether they fucking wanted it or not. The music. It was always about the bloody music.  That invisible thread that linked us indelibly, regardless of where we went. And we went far and wide, only to find that what we wanted, what we needed was there all along. We just had to look up and see it. Right there. Our North Star.  Someone asked me recently how I felt about the band not 'making it'. So I replied, define making it. If doing what you love with the people you love isn't 'making it', then I don't know what is.

The door frames George as he turns and looks back, like the final scene of the Searchers. The door closes.

George (to camera as he heads down the path towards the van)  -  When I was young, I thought that there was nothing worse than seeing old guys rocking out. Now, I know that there is nothing better. The wisest of them all once said, There is no path to happiness.  Happiness is the path. We've been up.  We've been down. We've been around. And we're still fucking here.  So, if you have a dream, cling on to it with every fibre of your being, as if your life itself depends upon it.

Because life does depend upon it.
And remember...that North Star still shines.

The End.






Sunday 9 February 2014

Episode 19 - London's Burning...

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by George Paterson
Episode 19 - London's Burning...
 
 
 
 
Opens in Suggs's flat. He's leading George down the hall towards the place he said he could use.
 
Suggs - I made a few adjustments... hope you like it.

George drops his bags outside the area, which has been covered over by a bunch of stapled down sheets. Suggs pulls back one sheet...

George (smiling)  - Wow!

Narrator - Now, I've never been a big fan of outdoor camping but for this, I'll gladly make an exception.

George enters the tent to find it transformed from a derelict kitchen to something resembling a modern Bedouin tent, spotlessly clean with a rug, a bed and some furniture.

George shakes his head in amazement as Suggs throws him a key to the outer door.

Suggs - Stay here as long as you want mate but I will ask one thing of you.

George - Name it.

Cut to early morning...the distant sound of the Happy Mondays is getting louder and louder. It awakens George. He scratches his head, pulls on his trousers and walks into Suggs room.  It is filled with pizza boxes and there is a wall full of empty beer cans. George wades through the mess, turns the alarm off, pulls open the curtains and wakes Suggs up.

Narrator - Small price to pay for rent free accommodation overlooking beautiful Regents Park.  Perhaps I could add this to my increasingly impressive CV.  Porter, Trainee Rock God, Human Alarm Clock.  But the main reason Suggs had difficulty wakening could be something to do with this...

Cut back to the flat.

George - Mate, I owe you big time.
Suggs - No worries.
George - Tell you what. Let me take you for a pizza. Just to say thanks.
Suggs - Sweet.

Cut to restaurant. The waiter has brought two large pizzas and another couple of beers.
 
Waiter - Would sir like some black pepper on his pizza?
George (to waiter) - Go for it, man.
A grinning Suggs shakes his head.
George looks at Suggs's Pizza.
George - Don't you want some toppings on that?
Suggs - I brought my own.
Narrator - Courtesy of Joey, naturally...
Suggs looks around before opening a clear plastic bag and depositing a handful of mushrooms on his pizza.
Suggs - You should try these mate.  They're organic.  Straight from Joey's folks patch in Arran.
George (cautious) - Just a little for me. Don't want to get too off my nut.
Suggs - Good thinking.

Cut to Suggs and George staggering down through Piccadilly Circus, gazing in wonder at the lights. The statue of Eros winks at George and takes aim, striking him with one of his love arrows.
George - Mate, I have to tell you...I'm falling in love.
Suggs - Whoa... straighten the rug man! I'm not that way inclined. 
George (giggles) - No, you daft bastard. I've met a girl.  She's...beautiful...
An old drunk approaches them.
Narrator - Because of the hallucinatory effects of Joey's mushrooms, this harmless bum looks close to 12ft tall with giant hams for hands.
Drunk - Who are you laughing at, ya bastard?
George (startled) - Woah!
Drunk - Do you wanna fight me?
Suggs - No fucking way, Popeye!
Drunk (throwing air punches) - I was legendary boxer, you know.
Suggs - Oh yeah?
Drunk - 36 professional bouts.
George - Really?
Drunk - Lost them all.
All three start laughing. Suggs offers him some mushrooms.
Suggs - You're a fun guy. Fungi!  Get it?
All three stagger down towards the river as Big Ben wobbles as if made of rubber.

Narrator - And that's why Suggs has difficulty getting up in the morning.

Cut to Endurance studios.

Narrator - My little Basildon buddy wasn't the only one who was into a bit of 'out there' experimentation.

The band are the mixing suite.  Billy is explaining where his saxophone part will fit into the tune they're recording.

Billy - So, right after the solo, I come in with my piece.
Gordon and George look at each other with trepidation.
Billy - Trust me, this will work.
Fozzy sets up a mic for Billy's sax.
Fozzy - OK, Bill. Play the piece.
Billy - No.  I want it to be a surprise.
Fozzy - Mate, I need to take a level.
Billy - OK, but remember, this is not it.
Billy plays some sax scales.
Fozzy - Ok, that'll do.  Are you ready to lay it down?
Billy nods.

The track lines up and Bill is cue'd in. He plays his piece.
Billy - PhhhranrrrRRRRRPPPPHHHH!
Billy nods his head. He turns to see George and Gordon bright red, holding their breath.
They all look at Fozzy. From the back, they see his shoulders shaking violently.
JT walks in from the drum booth.
JT - What the fuck was that?  Sounded like an elephant ejaculating over a live electric rail!
Fozzy, Gordon and George explode with laughter. Billy, surprised at the reaction, shakes his head.
Billy - Don't know why I bother with you ingrates. 
Roars of laughter.
Billy - Pack it in!
JT (dry) -  Pachyderm?
Fozzy, George and Gordon are on the floor.
Billy (mutters) - Bunch of fucking philistines.

Cut to band loading gear into JT's car.

George (to Fozzy) - Are you coming to the Dublin Castle tomorrow?
Fozzy - Definitely.  I've not been to Camden for ages.
Gordon (to George) - So, when are we going to meet this latest love of your life?
Billy - What the fuck does she see in a mangy tramp like you?
George - Mangy? Moi? She thinks I'm handsome.
JT (sucking on a cigarette) - She likes you but her guide dog thinks that you're an ugly cunt.
George - Ha fucking ha botons. I'm actually off to meet her now. Get it up yees!

George walks off, flicking V-signs.

Narrator - The joys of being a singer. We travel light.


JT looks at Billy and Gordon's gear in his car. He shakes his head.

JT - Don't be making a habit of this.  I'm not a fucking taxi driver.

Cut to George bounding onto the tube.
Narrator - I didn't realise how much I skipped when I was younger.  Before the joints gave out and the cynicism kicked in, I suppose.  But hey, that's what young love does to a man. Turns him into a giggling, grinning, bounding, skipping imbecile. Fucking magic, isn't it?

Cut to George leaving the Underground at Piccadilly Circus. The area is very busy. Looks at Eros, this time the statue doesn't move.

Narrator - Right, none of your nonsense today.

George spots the old drunk sleeping in a doorway.  He drops a pound in his hat before spotting Ricky. She smiles and waves.

Narrator - Seconds out, round two.

George and Ricky walk around the West End.

Narrator - I feel so comfortable with her. It just feels...right.

Behind the couple, a riot has started but they are oblivious to it. Police and demonstrators battle it out but George and Ricky continue to stroll hand in hand, without a care. They are corralled into a quieter street off Piccadilly Circus. They walk into a deserted lane, an oasis of calm in the middle of a violent storm.

George - What are you doing tomorrow?
Ricky - Anything you want to do. I don't have to be back to my kids until Monday morning.
Narrator - Huh???
George (surprised) - You...you have kids?
Ricky - Yes, two.  One is six and my little girl is four.
George - But you can't be older than 20?
Ricky (baffled) - I'm 19.
George looks equally baffled.
Ricky playfully slaps his arm.
Ricky - I'm an au pair, silly! I look after two kids.
Narrator - Phew! For a moment there, I thought you were from Ayrshire.
George - Ahhh...you need to come with me to the Dublin Castle tomorrow.
Ricky - Will I need my passport?
George smiles.

The riot continues in the background as the lovers kiss.

Narrator - London's burning...

Cut to Billy and his girlfriend having a picnic on a hill as music plays in the distance.
Girlfriend (taken by surprise) - Seriously? Are you sure?
Billy (lies back) - I think so....ach, I don't know.  We've got a gig tomorrow. I'll give it a bit more thought after that.


Cut to The Dublin Castle Pub, Camden.  White are playing to a full house. Ricky, ignoring Fozzy's attempted chat up, stands staring at George. George is giving the performance everything he has.  His band mates notice.

Billy (to Gordon) - Look at the youngster!
Gordon - He should go gaga more often.

The crowd roar their approval at the end of the gig. George jumps off stage and leads Ricky away.

Gordon (shouts) - Hawl! This gear won't pack itself.
Billy - Let him go...
Gordon - Need to keep an eye on this.

Cut to George and Ricky lying in bed. She's resting her head on his chest.
Narrator - C'mon say it!
George - Ehhh...Ricky....
Ricky - Yes...
Narrator - Don't pussy out!
Ricky - What is it?
George - I...ehhh...
Ricky kisses George.
Ricky - Do you want to tell me something?
George - Yes...I...
Narrator - Spit it out man!
Ricky - Yes?
George - I...want to take you to Glasgow.  To meet my family and friends.
Ricky smiles. 
Narrator - What did you think I was going to say? That I loved her? Listen, I'm a 'hump them and dump them' type rock star. You'll never catch me saying anything as soppy as...
George - I love you.
Narrator - What?  It just came out.
Ricky - I love you too.

Narrator - That was straightforward, eh?  No speed bumps, plain sailing from here on in.

Ricky - There's something I have to tell you.
Narrator - What? You're betrothed to an oil baron? Your family wouldn't approve?  What? What?
Ricky - I'm moving to California next month.

Clanging chimes of doom sound!

Narrator - Me and my big fucking mouth.

Cut to field in Regents Park. A football game is taking place. Billy and Gordon are on the side lines talking to George.

George - So, that's my dilemma.
Gordon - How serious is the job offer in California?
George - Pretty serious.  She's agreed to go. Ticket already bought.
Billy - If you're sure...
George - I am.
Billy - Then you have to tell her how you feel. 
Gordon - Before you take her to Scotland.
Shouts from the field of ....'George!!!!  George!!!!!'
George - Sorry guys.  One minute.
George runs onto the field.  He's wearing shorts and gloves. A player shoots and George saves spectacularly. He launches the ball back up field before walking back to Gordon and Billy, completely disregarding the game again.
George - So, that's what you think I should do?
Gordon (joking) - Have you thought of turning all of this turmoil into...a song?
George considers Gordon's suggestion as the players shout George's name again.
George (shouts as he runs back) - That's not a bad idea! I'll come over after the game and we'll work on something.
Billy and Gordon wave George goodbye.
Gordon (to Billy) - Why the hell is he playing in goals?
Billy - Have you ever tried to run about for 90 minutes with 2 gallons of lager in your bladder?

Cut to the field at half time. Stevie, Jocky and Suggs are slugging cans of lager. Marky and Tone are aggressively taunting opponents while Snuggly pulls them away. George is lying on the grass, writing lyrics on a scrap of paper. He stops and looks around at his team.

Narrator - From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that shares a beer with me
Shall be my brother.

Cut to the game kicking off again.

Marky (screaming) - Let's get right into these fucking caaaaaannnnts!

The rest of the team snarl as they start the second half.

Narrator - Might not look like it, but this was easily the most committed and skilful side I ever played with. We played for in the park for 3 seasons and lost a mere two games. Marylebone FC, my band of brothers.

Cut to end of game. Marylebone FC have won and they are in the mood to celebrate.

Marky - Coming to the pub, Georgie?
George - Nah.  Got a tune I'm working on.
Stevie/Tone - Pooooof!
George - Do one. Look, I'll see you tomorrow.
Suggs is standing watching a tiny bird dart back and forth.
Narrator - Beautiful, isn't it? Here's the thing. Defenders from all over the world, dishing out some tough tackling, couldn't stop our star striker...
The bird swoops and flies straight into his privates, causing him to hit the ground in pain.
Narrator - But like so many players, it was a bird that brought him to his knees.
Jocky - Man down!
Joey and her football playing boyfriend go to assist.
They carefully pick the bird up and take it away.
Joey - Aw...look. It needs food.
Narrator - As long as it's not Chili or mushrooms, it should make a full recovery.  Suggs however...
Cut to Suggs lying, still in agony.
Suggs - A bit of fucking help here, eh?  I can't breathe.
Snuggly offers Suggs a sip of a herbal concoction.
Snuggly - This'll take the edge off.

Cut to George at Gordon's flat. They're working some new songs.
Gordon is playing on an upright piano. George is singing then writing lyrics down.

Narrator - If you're going to put your heart and soul into something, you'd best have a good reason.

George and Gordon are sitting on opposite sides of a bed, each playing guitar and singing in harmony.

The song ends.

Cut to Gordon and George nodding in agreement.

Billy arrives. They play the new songs for him. He plays bass notes on the upright piano and joins in with the harmonies.

Cut to band packing guitars away.

Billy - We've not done enough of this recently.
George - Agreed. But that was a good night's work.
Gordon - If that doesn't deserve a pint, I don't know what does.
George - Do you think we could play a few of those tunes at Students House on Friday?
Gordon strokes his chin.


Cut to South London pub. Two men are watching JT play in a pick up band with a sixties singer. The first man is wearing a suit. The second is dressed like a foppish rock star.

Suited man - He's the drummer.
Foppish man - Definitely. Pity the guitarist isn't 30 years younger though.
Cut to elderly guitarist rocking out.
Suited man - Don't worry.  We'll find our guitarist.


Cut to Students House on Friday night. A large crowd applauds the end of a song.
George - Thank you. We'd like to play a song now for someone very special.  We just wrote it a few days ago. It's called...'You Ain't Going Nowhere'.

The band launch into the new song as Ricky looks on.  There are tears in her eyes.

Narrator - Looking back, I should have been delighted for her. It was the opportunity of a lifetime working for a movie producer in the beautiful town of San Rafael. But I was selfish.  As the song said, 'You ain't going nowhere'. I wanted her to stay. With me. Forever. And I'd do whatever it took to keep her with me. Grand gesture? Check. Write love song?  No problem. Logic and maturity didn't come into it. When you're young and in love, eh?

Cut to Italian restaurant after the show. George and Ricky are sitting in a table by the window.

Narrator - We used to eat here, 3 to 4 times a week. Lovely Italian restaurant with authentic...

Ricky is talking to George.

Narrator - For fuck sake, stop stalling...

George looking surprised, leaps from his seat and grabs Ricky, kissing her repeatedly.

Narrator - Goodbye California...

Cut to night bus. Ricky is cuddling into George.

Narrator - Deep breath...

Cut to sign that says....WELCOME TO SCOTLAND. George lets out a silent roar.

Narrator - Even now, I still cheer when I return home.

The bus pulls into Glasgow as the sun comes up.

George and Ricky leave the bus station and walk through the deserted streets of George's hometown.

Narrator - Not time for the full tour right now, just a few cultural highlights.

George points out Disco Viva and Dunkin' Donuts.

They board another bus, George buys two tickets and they take a seat. Another couple board the bus and attempt to speak to the driver.

The driver can't understand them so he impatiently indicates that the journey will cost them £1 each. The couple pay and sit down. Ricky starts to doze on an equally tired George's shoulder.

Cut to the bus shuddering to a halt, George wakes with a start. It's a bus stop close to George's home. The drivers change. The couple in front approach the new driver and attempt to engage him.

Driver - Excuse me?
Male - Nniss bsss no a Paysy?
Driver (sympathetic)  - I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're saying.
Female - Nis bsss agot a Paysy?
Driver (embarrassed) - I'm really sorry but I have no idea...
The couple start to get frustrated and use sign language to communicate with each other.
George (realisation) - I think they're deaf. 
Male (very annoyed) - Fnkkk saik...nnisss bss na afnkkng Paysy?
George (to himself) - Does this bus go to Paisley? That's what he's trying to say! Does this bus go to Paisley!
Narrator - Well, what are you waiting for?  Go help them.
George is about to stand up to offer assistance when an elderly man beats him to it.
He walks to the front of the bus and acts as mediator.
The deaf male repeats his question to the old man who immediately understands.
The old man turns to the bus driver and says...
Old man (stutters) - D...ddd....oes...th...th...is....bbbbbusssss....ggggoooo....taee......PPPPaisley?
George's snort of laughter wakes up Ricky.
Ricky - Are we there yet?
Narrator - Now I'm home.



Cut to large music venue, London.

JT takes his seat behind a brand new drum kit. The foppish man from the pub is the singer.  He does some stretches and vocal exercises as his band tune up.

Suited man - What time did you tell him?
JT - Don't worry. He'll be here.
The doors open. We see the bottom half of a man carrying a guitar case and a familiar looking kit bag.
JT (sucking on cigarette) - Knickers untwisted...
Suited man offers his hand.
Suited man - We've heard a lot about you. I'm Alastair, manager of Towards Jerusalem.
Cut back to reveal...
Guitarist - Hi, I'm Gordon.


Narrator - And while Gordon was heading Towards Jerusalem, Billy was playing with the Stones.

Cut to dark room filled with mystic symbols. Billy sitting down at a table opposite a woman and the little Indian man.
Woman - Shall we begin?

Billy nods. The Indian man closes his eyes and chants, quietly.

She asks Billy to choose a card from the deck. Billy obliges.

Woman - Ahhh! Three Princes. This is significant.

Billy looks at the card.

Billy - What does it mean?

Woman - Not yet. Now, place the card back in the pack and take one from this pile.

Billy - Is that the Community Chest? Do I get £20 for coming third in a modelling contest?

Billy sees that this attempt at humour has gone over the head of the woman. The Indian man is still chanting.

Billy - Sorry...OK, here goes.

He takes another card.

Woman - Interesting. Now, we have to release the crystals.

The woman shakes a small felt bag and empties the contents onto a board on the table. Five crystal stones remain close to one symbol. The woman jots down her notes.

Billy - What does it mean?

Woman - The crystals have told me that there are Three Princes and they have arrived at a crossroads. One will make a big noise, the second will travel to a mountain and the third will travel even further with five stones...

Billy looks confused.

Woman - Each Prince will tread their own road willingly but they will eventually find a track that leads back to one path. However far they travel, they will realise that they must reunite on this common path. But first, they must travel their own roads alone.

The woman looks in her tea cup.  She shakes her head in annoyance and stirs the contents.

Billy - Are the tea leaves revealing something?

Woman - Yes.

Billy (curious) - What are they telling you?

Woman - They're telling me that I need to buy better tea bags.  These cheap ones always burst in the pot.





Cut back to Glasgow, a large, lively gathering is taking place in George's mum's place. Ricky is surrounded by George's family, all of whom are offering her food, drink and advice.
 
Mum - Good to have you back, number one. You're looking well.
George - Thanks Mum. What do you think of Ricky?
Mum - She's very nice.
The door bell rings...in comes Brian.
Brian - Did someone say there's a party going on??
George goes to his old friend and gives him a big emotional hug. Brian's wife follows, carrying their baby.
Brian - This is baby Alex.
George is taken aback by how he feels.
Narrator - I've missed so much.
Ricky looks at George holding the baby and smiles.
Narrator - Could I just stop the world right here?  Take a picture of this moment because this is as good as it gets.

Sound of metal crashing against metal.

Cut to Donny walking in.

Donny - Alright Mrs P!!!!!!! I've parked my bus in your neighbours garden, more by accident than design to be honest.

Cut to neighbours garden.  Elderly passengers are looking out the window at the steaming engine of the bus and the mangled railings.

Old woman - This is no' the bingo.

Cut back to the party.

Mum (shaking head) - Still as daft as ever, Donny.

Donny - Of course but I will claim diminished responsibility on the grounds of the amount of hormone replacement pills I've been ingesting. (spots George) Geo man!!
Donny grabs George and they give each other a violent hug while George's cheeky brother moves in on Ricky.

Cheeky Brother - Alright doll. Tell me, do you like short, handsome men? And if not, have you got a sister?

Narrator - Too good to last...

Cut to George and Ricky walking through Kelvingrove Park as the sun goes down. They stop by a bridge and look across the city which is now bathed in moonlight.
George - So, what do you think of Glasgow?
Ricky - I love it! I don't want this to end.
George - It doesn't have to end. Ricky, would you...?
Ricky - Yes...

Cut to George and Ricky leaving a church, George in a kilt and Ricky in a wedding dress. Following them out of the church are Gordon, Billy, Stevie, Brian and Cheeky Brother in kilts.

Narrator - Trust Donny to buck convention.

Donny is wearing his best funeral coat with a floral patterned shirt.

Narrator - But despite being almost the last man standing at the previous night's stag party...

Cut to the sun rising as George puts a very drunk Suggs into a cab.

George (drunk) - Do you know where you're going?
Suggs (almost incoherent) - Yeah...it's beside a big clock.

Narrator -...Suggs just couldn't keep it going.

Cut to Suggs throwing up in the chapel grounds.

Narrator - Remarkably, the taxi driver did actually get him back to his hotel, beside the big clock.

Ricky's family walk out with George's mum.

Narrator -  Ricky's family made the journey from Switzerland to Glasgow for the wedding but only after a tense head to head at the Casa di Mamma a Papa.

Cut to big Italian dining table. Ricky's father looks at George as if he wants to kill him. Ricky's mum keeps shovelling food on George's plate.

Mamma - Mangiare Giorgio. Mangiare.

Narrator - She thinks that eating my bodyweight in pasta will cure my obvious anorexia.

Ricky's siblings are friendly and welcoming towards George but there is definite tension between him and Papa.

Narrator - What's his problem?  Is he jealous of my hair? Turns out that he was concerned that Trainee Rock God wasn't suitable profession for the prospective husband of his youngest. And with good reason. For starters, I still live in a fucking tent.

Cut to Ricky giving her Papa a big hug. He glowers at George.

Narrator - Maybe it's not the best time to divulge our latest piece of news.


Sitting in a quiet room...Billy and Gordon give George a hug.

Gordon - Congratulations mate! You're not hanging about, are you?
Billy - How the hell are you going to look after a baby...
Gordon - When you can barely look after yourself?
George - I'm maturing. Honestly. I'm a sophisticated man about town.
George opens up a packet of Monster Munch and offers them to the band. They decline.

Billy - Right, shall we do this?
Gordon - I've got some news too but it can wait until after the show.

The band walk out onto the stage.  The venue, a rock bar called Presley's, is small but packed to the rafters. Sweat is dripping from the place.

George shouts to the crowd.
George - Are you ready?
Cheer goes up.
Gordon shakes his head then cups his ears.
George - I said...ARE YOU READY?
Billy (to JT) - Take us there!
JT counts off and the band start playing a loud rock and roll cover version to the delight of the crowd.

Narrator - When we're this good, nothing can stop us.

Cut to Council noise abatement officer arriving and assessing.

Narrator - Except maybe Camden Council...

He pulls the plug much to the annoyance of the band and the crowd.

Narrator - At least the punters got an hour's worth of White.  Which is better than a week of Softly fucking Softly.

The band begin to pack their gear away.


JT is packed up and ready to go.
George - Big man.  Any chance of dropping these PA speakers back to Students House?
JT - No can do.
Gordon - Come on mate. It's literally just around the corner.
JT - Not my problem. Get a cab. You can afford it now.

Gordon is raging as JT drives off.

Billy - Forget it tall one. You said you had news?
Gordon - OK, my news. 

The band take a seat at a table outside of Presley's.

George - Go on then, spill the beans.
Gordon - JT has been headhunted by a rather well known band.
George - Have the Smiths reformed?  Miserable big cunt would fit right in there. 
Billy - It better not be Softly Softly.
George - That new song of theirs, 'I Feel it in the Fingers of my Night Time Lady' sucks fucking balls.
Gordon - Indeed it does.  But it's not them.  It's Towards Jerusalem.
Billy - Never heard of them.
George  (impressed) - I have.  They've had a couple of big hits.
Gordon - But that's not all. Last month, I auditioned for them.
George - What?
Gordon - Hear me out. They needed a drummer so when JT got the gig, he found out that they also need another guitarist.  Session work. Just playing rhythm with them on this month long tour they're doing in Europe. £200 per gig, paid rehearsals and hotels.
George (unenthusiastic) - Great.
Gordon - I knew you'd be wary but here's the deal.  We've got nothing booked up until the Powerhaus, nearly two months away.  This keeps me match fit. And best of all, they have a manager who is on the look out for the next big thing. He knows how limited Towards Jerusalem are. After a month working with me, I just know he'll want to take us on. Think about it.  We've got the songs, the look. He'll already have JT and me. Once he sees the you two at the Powerhaus, he's going to go tonto for us. At worst, I'll have made a whole new set of contacts.


George - So you're not thinking of leaving White, are you Gordon?

Gordon - Of course I'm not.

Billy takes a sip from his pint.

Billy - But I am.


End.
 
 

Monday 13 January 2014

Episode 18 - Let's Get Lost...


 
Everybody Wants to Rule the World by George Paterson.
 
Episode 18 - Let's Get Lost...
 
 
Opens in Endurance Studios. The band is playing loud and tight.

Narrator - Sneaking around behind the back of someone you supposedly care about is a behaviour to which we'd grown accustomed over the years.

Cut to the drummer.  It's not Slippy but a large grim faced powerhouse of a man, locking down the groove.  The band are in sync with him.
George catches a glimpse of Fozzy looking from the control booth. Fozzy nods his approval.
Narrator - But however callous this betrayal may feel - and we do accept that this may not be our finest moment - musically, it's a no brainer.

The band stops and the drummer leaves the studio for a break.

Gordon - What do you think?
George (cracking open a beer) - I think I'm the greatest front man in rock.
Gordon - No, what do you think of JT?
George throws Gordon a can of beer.
George - He's not as good as me but at least he's Scottish.
Gordon shakes his head, catches the beer and turns to Billy.
Billy (sweating profusely) - We need to break it to Slippy.
George goes to throw a beer at Billy but he declines. 
Gordon - Agreed.  But when and where? We've got the Pegasus in Stoke Newington in two days.
Billy - Too early for JT.
George - OK, after the Pegasus gig and I've got just the place. Bold yin? Are you alright?
Billy towels down and groans.
Billy unbuttons his shirt and continues to sop up his sweat.
Billy - I need a bucket.
Gordon - 8 pieces or 12?


Cut to the Pegasus gig. A good crowd has arrived and the band are back stage.
Narrator - One remarkable thing about having a dietary regimen that consists mainly of fast food, drugs and alcohol, is how rarely one is sick.
Billy is lying on a sofa babbling, incoherently.
Slippy - Do you want some soup?
Gordon - We've got some soup for you, bold yin.
George (shouting as if Billy is deaf) - Billy want some soup?
Billy (groggily interested) - Soup, you say?
George (emptying a carrier bag on the table) - Chicken and Lentil, Tomato, Oxtail, Minestrone, Scottish vegetable...
Billy groans.
Gordon (emptying another bag) - Pasta fagioli, Bouillabaise, Bacon noodle, French onion...


The concerned bar manager pops his head around the dressing room door. 
Manager - Is he going to be alright?
Gordon - Who?
Manager - Your bass player. He looks pale to me.
George - Of course he looks fucking pale. He's from Rutherglen.
Manager - We can reschedule...
Billy roars.
Billy - Fuck off! I'm fine.
Gordon (to manager) - See?
Billy goes to stand up and collapses back into the sofa.
Manager - That's it, I'm calling it...
Gordon (pleading) - Look, this is a really important gig for us. Don't call it.
Billy (still on sofa, to George and Slippy) - This is what I want you to do...
Manager - You've got one song and if he's not up to it...
Narrator - Thanks mate. Two things. Could you heat up a tin of Mulligatawny for us? And you don't happen to have to have a spare length of rope, do you?

Cut to stage, band are playing and the crowd is appreciative.
Narrator - We always liked our sortee's to this under appreciated part of North London. Unlike the trendier central bars and clubs, venues like the Pegasus didn't judge a band by the length of their fringe or by how much suede they wore. As long as you gave it everything, they went for it. As for Billy...

Cut to Billy manfully battering away as the sweat pours from him.

Narrator - ... The bold yin's a warrior. Well, a centurion actually. In so much as he was very attached to his column...

Cut to close up of Billy's midriff. He's being held up by a length of rope, tied to a pillar.

The gig ends and the band stand at the front of stage speaking with admirers.

Slippy - So, what now guys?

Narrator - What now indeed, Slippy.

George - Meeting at Students House tomorrow night.

Gordon - Yep. We need to talk about what we're going to do next.

Slippy - We should talk about what we need to do now.

George - And that would be?

Slippy points to Billy still attached to the column.

Narrator - Anyone have a pair of scissors handy?


Billy (arms outstretched) - Lads, why have thou forsaken me?

Cut to Billy being held up by the band.


Billy - Any more of that Mulligatawny?

Narrator - And on the third day, he was better...


Cut to a building on a busy street in Central London. 

Narrator - This is Students House. Little did I know at the time but getting a job here would change my life in so many ways. Firstly, this hive of youthful enthusiasm was a conference centre that doubled as a mini hotel and gathering point for young students the world over. More of which later...My actual job began around 7am, which initially proved a bit of a stretch for a confirmed night owl like me.  I was charged with the set up meeting rooms for conferences, and then at 5pm, turn those rooms into study areas for all of the members of the house. In between, I spent my time here..

Cut to student bar. The barman - Rob - pours George (still wearing cowboy boots and a leather jacket but with a shirt and tie underneath) a pint.

Narrator - And best of all, it was heavily subsidised. Landed on my feet or what?

George - Rob, is it ok if we section off the back end of the bar?

Rob - No worries.  It's quiet here tonight anyway.

The group sit down at the table, as George pulls the dividing curtains for privacy.

Slippy - Not bad this, eh?

Billy - Let's get down to business.

George - I don't know how to say this...Slippy...but you're out.

Cut to Slippy.  He moves in as if to catch the words again. It begins to sink in.

Narrator - I've done some out there things over the years. Taken liberties and pushed the envelope somewhat. But little provokes as much retrospective guilt in me as this shameful moment. For what it's worth Slippy, I am sorry that I allowed it to play out like this. You were a mate and you deserved better...

Slippy gathers his belongings and with a nod to the band, heads off.


Narrator - Abbe Joseph Roux once said, 'We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence'.

The three remaining members stare at the table in front of them.

Narrator - Nothing can make up for what we've done but the edge will be taken off, as ever...

Gordon empties his pockets. He has around £10.  George does the same, with about £7. Billy adds another £12. 

Gordon - Question. How much subsidised booze can we buy with this?

Narrator - Answer. Enough.

Cut to a different area in bar, which is now more busy.

Gordon is admiring the pretty girls.

Billy (drunk) - So, tell me more about this place.

George (equally drunk) - Well...

Narrator - Formed in the sixties, the house now is one giant, incestuous love in. The staff, the patrons, it's all go in here. Beneath the outer veneer of respectability, you'll find a bunch of twenty something's who, to use the parlance of the time, are on one. Let me introduce you to my colleagues, friends and partners in crime. You already know our seasonal porter cum Don Gorgon reggae champion, Snuggly...(cut to Snuggly ordering and downing various concoctions). 

Snuggly - Rob!  Give me a Bacardi, Pernod and Irn Bru!

Narrator - He's an adventurous but inexperienced boozer.

Cut to Snuggly lying down by the window, cuddling his glass.

Narrator - Stick to tea, old boy. Then there's the kitchen crew. Jocky (cut to chubby chef in whites) and Cate, his long suffering spouse. He's a lovely bloke. Until he hits the Scotch,
that is. That's when the psychotic edge kicks in and Bruce Banner becomes a little red Hulk. 

Cut to Jocky swinging a chair around his head before being wrestled to the ground. Cate shakes her head.

Narrator - His apprentices in the kitchen underworld are Marky, a blonde teenage maniac (cut to giant chef leaping onto tables and air drumming to the sound of The Charlatans, 'The Only one I Know'), Stevie (cuts to man standing behind counter with his hands down his trousers) 

Customer - Can I have some puff pastry with my pie?
Stevie - Of course you can!
He pulls his hands from his trousers, sniffs them then picks up a piece of pie.

Narrator - Then there's Joey, a silent goth in an overcoat. She's popular for three reasons.  One, she's pretty. Two, she cooks the best chili in town. And three, she supplies the staff with whatever pharmaceuticals they require.

Cut to Joey opening up her heavy coat to reveal a number of clear bags filled with pills and powder.

Narrator - And finally, my colleagues in the conference department, Suggs and Tone. Like an edgy, chemically enhanced Essex version of Bros.

Cut to Suggs and Tone arriving at the bar. They acknowledge George simultaneously.

Suggs/Tone - George...George...George...George...Whoops George!

They laugh maniacally.

Narrator - Years of watching movies while stoned have turned these fellows into a two man, movie line tag team. Suggs in particular knows every single word of Rocky 3 and Top Secret.

Suggs (the smaller and friendlier of the two, approaches the table) - Hoots man!

George - Suggs, this is my band.

Suggs shakes their hands.

Narrator - These guys and the rest of the staff here will become more than mere work colleagues. The Students House guys became my brothers, my sisters, my lovers. My friends.

Slow motion look around the bar at the aforementioned characters.

Narrator - And for better or for worse, this place would become a second home.

Cut to the band, replete with new drummer JT playing in the Students House theatre in front of large and appreciative crowd.

Narrator - From the lows of the Bull and Gate, our Moleskin humiliation and the Slippy saga to the high of finding the right place at the right time. As some dead German dude said, from chaos comes order. Begging his pardon, I'd put it more as from shambolic cluster fuck comes renewed focus. Sorry Fred, I just don't have your way with words.

Cut to the band bouncing off stage, into the changing room with the crowd shouting for more. Suggs passes some beers to the guys. Jocky and Cate push them back towards the stage for the encore.

Narrator -  But unlike Fred, White, with our new sticks man, can rock.  Thus Spake Mich. And all of those lovely fans.

Cut to Studio. Band are setting up for a recording session. JT is tuning his drums and going through a warm up. Gordon motions to George and Billy to reconvene outside.


Gordon - Don't know about you boys but I want to take it to the next level with JT.

George and Billy look at each other in surprise.

Narrator - He's a bit more butch than your normal type, G?

Gordon - I want him to be a full member of White.

George and Billy look relieved.

Narrator - And breathe...

Billy - He can rock.

George - But does he roll?

Cut back to studio. Fozzy lines up the tape and shouts...

Fozzy - Rolling!

The band kick into the song 'She Loves It'.

Narrator - He can rock.  And he can roll...

Cut to after the recording session. The band are in conference with the drummer.

Narrator - ...but when you're a member of White, nothing is ever as easy as you think it's going to be.

Gordon - So, we'd like you to officially join the band.

JT's lips tighten around the cigarette he's smoking.

George - Well big man?  What do you say?

JT - I think I'll pass.

The band look stunned.

Narrator - Huh?

Billy - You don't want to join?

Gordon - I thought you dug the music.

JT - Aye, it's alright.  And I'm enjoying it. But...

Narrator - But?

JT - Can you pay me?

Gordon - What?

JT - I'll say it again.  Can...you...pay...me?

Billy - We don't have a recording deal.

JT - So you can't pay me? Fair enough. In that case, I'd rather keep my options open. I'll play with White, but should any paying work arrives, I'll be taking it.

Narrator - Welcome to the hard edges of the pro world, boys. Can't expect everyone to have the same dreams and desires as we do...I suppose.

Cut to band packing their gear away. JT drives off. Fozzy throws the band cassette copies of the demo they've just recorded.

George - He's still worth sticking with.

Billy - Even if he is a miserable big fucker.

Gordon - Agreed. So, anyone up for a little post recording drinkie poo? Fun time Friday at the Connaught?

George - Stupid question.

Billy - Not for me. Sorry lads.

George - Don't tell me, a Bunuel retrospective the Renoir?

Gordon - Or a Renoir retrospective at the Bunuel?

Billy gives the others the finger.

Billy - If you must know, it's the Urdu drum workshop in Highgate Arts Centre followed by an all night Floyd-a-thon light show at the Planetarium. 

Gordon - Of course.

George - What were we thinking?

Billy - The Bunuel retrospective is next week.

Billy laughs and leaves.

Narrator - Shine on you crazy bastard.

Cut to the Connaught Pub, Holborn. George heads to the bar for another round. Gordon remains at the table they've sharing with a few friends.

George (to barman) - Four pints of Holsten Export, a rum and coke and a whisky, rocks.

A man taps George on the shoulder. George turns around.

Man (with a Belfast accent) - You're from Glasgow, right?

George - Ehh...yeah?

Man - I love going to Glasgow.

George (shaking his hand) - Nice one mate, it's a great city...

Man - You a football fan by any chance?

George - Damn right I am! 

Man - Tell me.  Are you Celtic or are you Rangers?

George - Celtic man. All the way.

The man spits in George's face.

Man (growls) - You dirty Fenian bastard.

George reels in shock. 

Time stands still...

Narrator - What the fuck just happened?

Time catches up.

Gordon's fist crashes into the face of the man. He is knocked into the bar, bounces out again, stunned and a furious Gordon punches him again, knocking him to the floor. A friend of the assailant grabs Gordon by the back of the shirt but he swings around and punches him over a table, knocking drinks everywhere. George is still standing in shock. The atmosphere in the bar has turned from light and frivolous into something resembling a wild west saloon. One of Gordon's friends escorts him and George out of the bar.

Gordon (to George) - Are you alright?
George (shocked, wiping his face with a bar towel) - I think so. He...he spat in my face.
Gordon punches the door.
Gordon - Fucking prick. I thought we'd left that kind of shit behind in Scotland.

At this point, the landlord throws the bloodied man out of the bar. He notices George and heads towards him angrily. Gordon pulls him away before punching him hard, sending him flying through the door and back into the pub. Police sirens start to wail.

George - I think that this might be an opportune time to bolt.
Gordon - I concur. Let's get lost.
Narrator - Taxi!! 
Taxi Driver - Where do you want to go, lads? 
George - As far away from the 17th century as possible.

George and Gordon get into the taxi and drive off as the police arrive.

Narrator - There's an old story about an elderly Jewish guy in Glasgow. He's out visiting family when he's accosted by a group of thugs. They grab him and ask him what team he supports. He says he's not interested in football. So they ask him, are you Catholic or are you Protestant? Neither, he says  'I'm Jewish.' 'Aye, but are you a Catholic Jew or a Protestant Jew?' In my haste to acclimatise to new surroundings, I forgot the one basic lesson that has kept this face beautiful for so long. Always be wary of strangers enquiring about your background.  It rarely ends well. 

Cut to taxi heading towards Hampstead.

Narrator - Ah!  Civilisation. Drop us anywhere here, driver.

Cut to George and Gordon getting out of taxi and looking at a pub called 'The King William'.

Narrator - We can't win.

George directs Gordon towards the more upmarket bar nearby.

Narrator - Waiter service in a bar?  More like it.

George and Gordon find a table and a waiter takes their order. He returns with 2 beers and Gordon gives him £10.
Two very exotic girls approach.
First Girl - Are these seats taken?
Gordon - They are now.
George - Drink?
The girls confer then nod.
Gordon calls over the waiter.
Gordon - Another two beers. Use the change from that tenner to pay for it.
Waiter - Change?
Gordon's face changes colour.
Gordon (quiet but forceful) - Change. From the £10 note pal. 
The waiter instantly understands.
Waiter - Coming right up.
The girls don't look impressed.
Narrator - Rocky start. Let's take it up a notch.
Gordon - So, what do you ladies do?  Models?
Second Girl - We're air hostesses.
George (slugging his beer) - We're rock stars.
Their eyes light up.
First girl - I'm Amitra and this is Artemiz. And we don't like beer.
Gordon takes a wedge of money out of his pocket.
Gordon (to waiter) - Champagne!
The girls are now impressed.
George (whispers) - Where the fuck did you get that from?
Gordon - It's Norton's Coin.
George looks confused.
Gordon - I put my wages on Desert Orchid at Cheltenham.
George - I thought he lost...
Gordon - He did.
George - Jesus!
Gordon -  But I also had a fiver on Norton's Coin.  Each way. 100/1.
George (to waiter) - Make it two bottles!
Amitra (to Gordon) - Do you know Bon Jovi?
Gordon - Sure do.

The night continues, the girls sip their drinks as Gordon and George greedily quaff theirs.
Amitra (to Gordon) - So, tell me about Mr Jon Bon Jovi.
Gordon - You know, we've been out in LA, working with him on some new songs.
Artemiz - Is he alright?
Gordon - Apart from the lack of eyebrows, yeah he's pretty sound. Richie Sambora's a bit of a dick though.
Artemiz - Not him. George.
Gordon looks at George to see him fast asleep, head back.
Gordon - Ah...Jet lag.  That's that bastard Sambora working him too hard again.

The lights go up in the bar.

Narrator - That time already? I know a little place nearby...

All four are standing outside the bar. George has woken up.
George - All back to mine?
Gordon nods. Armita whispers to Artemiz.
Armita - I'm going to call it a day.
George and Gordon look disappointed.
Armita - I've got an early flight tomorrow (shouts) Taxi!
Gordon (kisses her hand) - Goodnight my Persian princess?
Artemiz (smiles) - The night is young...
Narrator - And so are we.
The girls talk as Armita gets into the taxi.
Gordon and George confer.
Gordon - She's mine.
George - Is she fuck!
Gordon - No woman can resist...the guns. (Gordon flexes his muscles)
George - She will be like putty in my hands. It's the pout, man.  And this body.  It was made for loving.
Gordon - You're delusional.
George - Maybe she wants to...double up? You know, tag team?
Gordon (shudders) - Fuck that. I draw the line there.
George - So, who gets her then?
Gordon - OK, we each take a seat and whoever she sits closest to, wins. The loser (points at George), backs off.  Deal?
George (thinks about it) - Sounds fair to me. Just don't be too disappointed when you're engulfed in wankers gloom.
Gordon (laughs) - We'll see about that. I'm still Don Gordon, the king champion.

The trio head into George's flat.
Artemiz - May I use your bathroom?  Need to powder my nose.
George and Gordon wait then make a dash for what they believe is prime seating location. George opens another button on his shirt and smells his armpits. He runs to the bedroom and sprays some aftershave on. Gordon too smells his armpits.
Gordon - Give us a little bit of that smelly stuff, eh?
George - No fucking chance. This is war.
Gordon goes into the kitchen and grabs some air freshener. He sprays it all over, nonchalantly.
Gordon - OK then, bring it.

Artemiz walks out of the bathroom, wearing a bathrobe.
Narrator - Game on.
Artemiz - Shall I pour us some drinks?
The boys nod.
Narrator - And open a window...either the temperature's rising or Gordon used too much Ambi Pur...
Artemiz walks up to Gordon and playfully grabs his hair.
Narrator - Bastard!
She gives Gordon his drink but doesn't sit down. She walks over to George.
Artemiz - And this is for you...
She sits down beside George and puts her arm around his neck.
Narrator - They think it's all over...
Gordon stands up, downs his drink.
George (smiling) - Spare room is over there big man.
Gordon draws him daggers. George flicks him a V sign.
George and Artemiz start fooling around on the sofa.

Cut to next morning.
Gordon is cooking breakfast as George wakes up. Both look very rough.
Gordon - Morning lover boy.
George (holding his head) - My fucking head. What did we do last night?
Gordon - Don't know about you but I was woken up by some moaning Persian.
George (smiles) - Told you! I AM the Don Gorgon!
Gordon - Hold your horses there, Champ.

Gordon takes George into the bathroom. 
George is agog.
Crudely written, on the walls and mirror with lipstick, are the words...
Drunken Scottish asshole!
The bathroom is trashed.
Gordon - You must have really made an impression on the girl.
George thinks...
Cut back to bedroom the previous night. George gets into bed as Artemiz does a seductive dance for him. George is lying on the bed smiling. She comes over to the bed and starts kissing his ear and neck, George still lies there, smiling. 
Artemiz - Tell me what to do. What do you like? I will do...anything...
George lies motionless.
Artemiz - George?
She shakes him. He snores loudly.

Cut back to the morning after.
George - Oh...
Gordon - Oh indeed. 
Narrator - Damn!  She could've been the one. What's not to like? Stunningly beautiful, intelligent and is desperate for some of Georgie's good stuff. But I blew it like Bon Jovi's eyebrow stylist. When will I ever...fucking...learn? Drunken Scottish Asshole? Well, the name Artemiz does mean 'truthful one' in Persian. To paraphrase the aforementioned chanter, a shot to the heart, and who's to blame? 
George - I need to get this place cleared up before Monday.
Gordon - Why?
George - I'm being moved out. The lease expired.
Gordon - So?
George - Well, I need the deposit for a new place.
Gordon - Isn't the lease in Devon's name?
George (realisation dawning) - You're right! Bollocks to it. Just need a new place to live. Hint?
Gordon - No danger!  But I'll buy you a pint...
Gordon empties his pockets out. There's a couple of coins and two £1 notes.
Gordon - Damn.
George - Damn indeed.
Gordon - You don't have a spare tenner, do you? Dead cert running today at Kempton Park.

Cut to George speaking on phone to Billy.
George - So, you don't think Devon will mind?
Billy - It's not your responsibility. You were doing him a favour by looking after the place.
Cut to flat in abject condition.
George - You're right.
Billy - Have you got anywhere else lined up?
George - Well now that you're offering...
Billy - Forget it!
George - I'm now down to my last resort...

Cut to Suggs's work flat. He shows George a kitchen area that is being refurbished. It looks like a building site.
Suggs - A little tidy up, put a bed in that corner and it won't look half bad. You can stay here as long as you want, man. Rent free.
George - Eh, thanks...

Cut back to the phone conversation...
Billy - Anyway, the flat is the least of his concerns.
George - How come?
Billy - A failed breakout last week might stop his early release.
George - Wow!  What happened?

Cut to Devon walking out of the main gates at his Open Prison, saying goodbye to the guard before heading into town.

Billy - They found him in Presto, 3 hours after his curfew, buying sausage rolls.
George - Fight the power. By the way, how did it go with Floyd at the Planetarium?
Billy (laughs) - The lunatics are on the grass.

Cut to Planetarium, everyone is smoking weed to the sound of Dark Side of the Moon.

George - Fancy a beer tonight?  Unless you've got something on. Like a Austro-Hungarian nose flute jamboree or a Mongolian poetry reading?
Billy - Diary is free tonight. Shall we hit The Bucks Head?
George - Cool. Meet at Students House for a quick one at half seven and we'll head off from there.
Narrator - Done.

Cut to Students House. It's 8.05pm. Billy's late. George is sitting at the bar.

George looks at the clock and shakes his head.
George - Better get me another beer, Rob.
Narrator - Strangest things happen at the strangest times. Especially here. Take this for instance...

Cut to Snuggly and George kicking a ball outside a Students House conference room. The board says 'Pan African Conference'. A huge roar goes up. They stop what they're doing and enter. The delegates are dancing and celebrating.
Snuggly - What the...?
He runs in. George stands and watches the scene of unbridled joy unfold.
George - What the hell's happening?
Snuggly - They've released Mandela!
George - I didn't know they had him.

Narrator - Back on track.  Where is Billy?

Cut to Tottenham Court Road, Billy is about to run across a busy road. A small Indian man stops him, shaking his head.

Billy - What's the problem, little dude?
Indian Man pulls Billy close. He looks deeply into his eyes.
Indian Man - You are a very lucky man.
Billy - Excuse me?
Indian Man - You are a very lucky man.
Billy looks at the man again.
Indian Man - Very lucky.

Cut to George looking at clock.  It's now 8.15pm.
George - Jesus...

Narrator - More like Buddha, Vishnu AND Jesus.

Cut to an intrigued Billy and the Indian Man in a pub, deep in conversation. A woman reading crystals is sitting with them.

Narrator - Back when I was floating between life and death in a hot tub, I became very aware of the serendipitous currents that surround we floating collections of carbon atomic molecules. It's known as many things. The ripple or butterfly effect, for instance. And while we're on a Persian theme, perhaps one could consider us a modern, drunken version of the three Princes of Serendip. Because right in the middle of cursing the bold yin, this happens...

Cut to bar. George checks the clock again, 8.27pm. A cheery, heavy set girl arrives at the bar smiles at George. He smiles back as her friends take a seat behind him at a table. 
Girl (heavily accented) - Are you here on your own?
George - I'm waiting for a friend.
Girl - Perhaps you wait with us, no?
She points to the table.
Narrator - Why not? What's the worst that could happen?
Girl - My name is Karin...(she offers her hand)
George - I'm George.
He sits down and is introduced to Monika...
Monika - Hi!
Anna - Hello George!

Karin - And this is Ricky...

Narrator - My heart stopped. Just like that. You know when you hear that nonsense about people falling in love at first sight? I never believed it was possible. For a guy like me, as shallow as a puddle of piss in Death Valley? Definitely not. Lust yes, attraction sure but love? Don't be silly...

Cut to George staring at Ricky, a petite girl with long curly hair, giant gypsy earrings and brown eyes. She smiles at George and takes a sip of her drink.

Narrator -Just couldn't take my eyes off her. I can remember precisely what I thought at this moment. It was a prayer actually. A little prayer to a God I'd shunned, ignored and taunted with my hubris. This was different though. If He could make a woman like this could fall in love with me, I'd never ask for anything, ever again. I swear it. I might even return to the fold but let's not get ahead of ourselves here. I don't know if she even likes me.

Cut to Ricky shyly looking over her drink at George.

Cut to bar, the time is now 9.50pm and there is a call at the bar for George. He reluctantly pulls himself away from Ricky and takes the call.  It's Billy.

Billy - Sorry mate, I got side tracked. The strangest thing happened...
George - Same here mate.
Billy - Rain check?
George - No worries bold yin.

Narrator - Now if Billy had not spent that extra time with his girl (cut to Billy's girlfriend pulling him back in when he was about to leave) he wouldn't have needed to dodge traffic. And he'd never have met the little Indian fella making it to Students House in time for us to have a beer and bolt before Karin, Monika, Anna and Ricky showed up (cut to George and Billy finishing their drinks and leaving seconds before the girls arrive). It's random electrical connections like these that drive the world and stop hearts, dead in their tracks.

Cut to Paddington Station, last train is about to leave. The other girls have gone. George is with Ricky. A lone busker is playing a Chet Baker song in the almost deserted station.
George (shy) - It was very nice to meet you.
He offers his hand.
Ricky (accented) - Nice to meet you too.
George - Can I see you again?
They are still holding hands. They pull closer.
The conductor blows his whistle, signifying the imminent departure of the last train.
She quickly kisses George.
Ricky(smiling) - Perhaps.
She runs to catch the train.
George watches the train depart and drops a couple of coins in the buskers cap as he catches his breath.

Narrator - Wow.

"Let's get lost, lost in each other's arms
Let's get lost, let them send out alarms
And though they'll think us rather rude
Let's tell the world  we're in that crazy mood.
Let's defrost in a romantic mist
Let's get crossed off everybody's list
To celebrate this night we found each other,
mmm, let's get lost."

End.