One transcript, done at twice the normal human pace - and probably therefore the equivalent amount of mistakes. Nitpick at your pleasure. ARTHUR: Here we are, chaps – er, chap! Coffee for you, Douglas, and coffee for you - to maybe have a bit later on, Douglas. DOUGLAS: Did you by any chance forget Martin wasn’t flying today, Arthur? ARTHUR: No, I didn’t actually. It’s just I only know the amounts to make coffee for two people. DOUGLAS: You could just have made half of what you usually make. ARTHUR: Well, I couldn’t, because I’d only know what to make half of once I’d made it, and once I’d made it, I’d made it. DOUGLAS: Oh well, fair enough then. I didn’t realise you’d addressed the problem scientifically. (There is a bing-bong.) Hello, Starbucks, Irish Sea. MARTIN: Douglas, it’s Martin. DOUGLAS: Hello there. Enjoying your day off? MARTIN: No. Douglas, how long till you land? DOUGLAS: About half an hour. Why? MARTIN: Great! Is Arthur there? DOUGLAS: Well, not all there. ARTHUR: Hello, Skip! This is weird, isn’t it? Because normally when I’m here listening to someone on sat-com, you’re here, too, listening to them, only now you’re there where they are, and I’m here, where you usually are and where I usually am and am now, talking to you! DOUGLAS: You find Arthur in philosophical mood. MARTIN: Arthur, I need you to help me. ARTHUR: Brilliant! I love helping! MARTIN: Well, this is a big help, a very big help. ARTHUR: No problem, Skip – I am a very big helper. MARTIN: Well, Arthur, erm – Douglas, are you still listening? DOUGLAS: I don’t have an enormous amount of choice, Martin. MARTIN: Can’t you put your fingers in your ears? DOUGLAS: Heaven knows I’m not generally a stickler for safety procedures, but I’m not certain that’s a good idea whilst flying an aeroplane. MARTIN: Fine. Arthur, I’m at Fitton Hospital. ARTHUR: Oh no! Are you all right? MARTIN: No, I’ve sprained my ankle. DOUGLAS: Oh dear, how did you do that? MARTIN: I was – it doesn’t matter how. DOUGLAS: Martin. MARTIN: Look, it’s a perfectly valid tool, when teaching best safety practice, to demonstrate the wrong way as well as the right way. DOUGLAS: You twisted your ankle, whilst teaching someone how not to twist their ankle? MARTIN: Anyway, Arthur, you know how though I’m mostly a pilot, I’m also a bit of a man with a van? ARTHUR: Yeah. MARTIN: Well, today – right now actually – I’m supposed to be picking up a piano in Fitton and delivering it to a pub in Devon. ARTHUR: Wouldn’t have thought you could do that with a sprained ankle. MARTIN: No, Arthur, I can’t. This is where the ‘you helping me’ part comes in. My van is at the airfield, and the addresses and the spare van keys are in my pigeonhole. DOUGLAS: Spare Van Keys – didn’t we fly him to Amsterdam once? MARTIN: Douglas, shh! Arthur, when you land, do you think that you could - c-c-could you pick them up, find my van, pick me up at the hospital, drive me to Fitton, load a piano and then - drive me to Ottery St. Mary? ARTHUR: Yeah, no problem. All right, bye! DOUGLAS: Really, Martin? Arthur? Is this wise? ARTHUR: Hey! MARTIN: I know! I know! But I - I don’t have a choice! ARTHUR: Double hey! I can do it. DOUGLAS: Would it be worse for you to cancel the job or to rely on Arthur - Arthur - to pick up and drive a piano - a piano - two hundred miles in a van – a van? ARTHUR: Why shouldn’t I? DOUGLAS: Because, Arthur, you’re a clot. ARTHUR: I’m not a clot! What’s a clot? DOUGLAS: Well, you know the way that you are and the things that you do? ARTHUR: Yeah? DOUGLAS: Those are the ways of a clot. MARTIN: Douglas, you’re forgetting I’ll be there with him the whole time, supervising. DOUGLAS: Oh, then what can possibly go wrong? MARTIN: There’s no-one else to ask! DOUGLAS: No-one? MARTIN: No! DOUGLAS: Ahem. MARTIN: Really? Would you? DOUGLAS: Well, I’ve nothing else to do today, and it’s always useful to have someone owe you a colossal favour. ARTHUR: But I can still come, right? DOUGLAS: Of course! MARTIN: Uh, really, Douglas? DOUGLAS: Oh yes! I see my role as very much a managerial one, with perhaps a little light driving. If you want actual piano shoving done, we’ll need a piano shover. ARTHUR: Brilliant! CAROLYN: Ah, yes? Oh, hello, you two. ARTHUR: Hello, mum! Gerti’s all Hoovered and locked up, so can I go to Devon? CAROLYN: Devon? ARTHUR: Yeah. Martin and Douglas are taking a piano to somewhere called – what was it? – Weasels King Henry? Hedgehog O’Brien! DOUGLAS: Ottery St. Mary. ARTHUR: Yeah, and they said I could come, too. Can I go, mum? CAROLYN: Arthur, you are twenty-nine years old. You don’t need my permission to go to Devon! ARTHUR: Is that a yes? CAROLYN: Yes! ARTHUR: You won’t be bored all day without me? CAROLYN: I’ll struggle through. DOUGLAS: Excellent! All right then, Arthur. You get the keys and addresses; I’ll seek out the van. Door closes, and a number is swiftly dialled. HERC: Hello, Herc Shipwright? CAROLYN: Ah, Herc. It's Carolyn Knapp-Shappey here. Are you still free today? HERC: Oh, hello. Uh, yes, I am. CAROLYN: Well, to my great disappointment, various better offers have fallen through, and I am in fact reluctantly available for that lunch and dog walk you were nagging me about. MARTIN: Ah yes, this is it – the Laurels. (He rings the bell.) Now let me do the talking, all right? DOUGLAS: Of course. ARTHUR: Right-o! THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Hello? DOUGLAS: Good morning, madam! I am Doug; this is Mart and Arth. We are your man with a van or rather men with a ven. MARTIN: Hello, I’m sorry, ignore him. I’m Martin Crieff. We’re from Icarus Removals. THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Oh right, you’re here for the piano. DOUGLAS: Icarus? MARTIN: Yes, that’s right. DOUGLAS: You do know what happened to Icarus? THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: It’s in here. Wipe your feet. MARTIN: Thank you very much. (Aside to Douglas) Of course I do! Door closes. DOUGLAS: So you’ve deliberately named your company after the first bad pilot in history? MARTIN: Shut up! THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Here it is. DOUGLAS: Aha! (He tinkles the ivories.) Ah, not bad. She’ll be wasted in a pub. ARTHUR: Wow, Douglas, that’s amazing! Oh, now do Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines! DOUGLAS: Absolutely not. ARTHUR: Oh, but it’s my favourite! DOUGLAS: Anyway, I don’t know how it goes. ARTHUR: Yeah, you must do! ♪Up, down, flying around! Looping the loop and defying the ground!♪ DOUGLAS: If anything I now know how it goes even less, but I can do you a little Chopin. MARTIN: Yes, thank you, Douglas. This lady wants us to move it, not show off on it. THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: Oh, I don’t mind. Isn’t he good? DOUGLAS: You’re too kind. MARTIN: We – we’re on quite a tight schedule. DOUGLAS: Yes, seven hours to drive to two hundred miles – every second counts! MARTIN: Douglas, please! DOUGLAS: Certainly, Icarus. (He stops playing.) All right, Arthur, snap to it! Arthur provides the brawn to our little operation, madam. I, you may not be entirely surprised to learn, am the brains. THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: He doesn’t look very brawny. DOUGLAS: True, but that’s nothing compared to how much he’s not brainy. THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: And what’s he for? DOUGLAS: Martin? Ah, Martin here has perhaps the most important thing of all. THE LADY FROM THE LAURELS: What’s that? DOUGLAS: A van. The bell is rung and door is opened. HERC: Hello Carolyn. CAROLYN: Ah, there you are. You’re late. HERC: We didn’t set a time. CAROLYN: You’re later than I’d imagined you’d be. HERC: Then you clearly don’t have a very vivid imagination. Some rather yappy barking begins. CAROLYN: Hello darling. Did you hear the silly late man? HERC: Ah, hello. What a ridiculous dog! CAROLYN: I’m sorry? HERC: I said you have a ridiculous dog. CAROLYN: My dog is not ridiculous. HERC: Then whose dog is this? Hello there. What is she? CAROLYN: She’s a cockapoo. HERC: Oh, a cockapoo. Obviously, I’d never have called her ridiculous had I known she was a cockapoo. CAROLYN: It is a cross between a poodle and a – HERC: Cockatoo? CAROLYN: A cocker spaniel. And she’s not ridiculous – she happens to be a noble and faithful hound. HERC: Uhuh, and what’s she called? CAROLYN: Doesn’t matter. HERC: What? CAROLYN: Her name is not important. Right, I thought we’d have lunch first, then walk after. HERC: Oh, I’d rather walk first, work up an appetite. CAROLYN: Fine. I’ll see you when you finally get to the pub then. I’ll be the one looking full. DOUGLAS: All right, are we ready to go? MARTIN: Yes. ARTHUR: Yep. DOUGLAS: Jolly good. Pre-driving to Devon checklist, Captain? Doors? MARTIN: Closed. DOUGLAS: Seatbelts? MARTIN: On. DOUGLAS: Piano? MARTIN: Checked. DOUGLAS: Piano? ARTHUR: Crosschecked! DOUGLAS: Jelly babies? Plastic rustles promisingly. MARTIN: Jelly babies to manual. DOUGLAS: Excellent! Then off we go. MARTIN: I, um, I would’ve helped with the loading, you know, but it’s only – this ankle – DOUGLAS: It’s quite all right. We managed. MARTIN: I’m impressed you got the owner to do so much of the lifting. DOUGLAS: Yes, she had a sort of wiry strength for her age. ARTHUR: I didn’t know you could play the piano, Douglas. DOUGLAS: Well, you remember that time when there was that thing you didn’t know whether or not I could do and then it turned out that I couldn’t? ARTHUR: No. DOUGLAS: No, nor do I. MARTIN: Fnu...
Heliniel