Funny Ha, Ha

by Paul Merton

  SIDNEY. You said you were off.

  TONY. But where’s the guide?

  SIDNEY. I’m the guide.

  TONY. Well, aren’t you coming with us?

  SIDNEY. No, I can’t leave the office.

  TONY. Well, how can you guide us then?

  SIDNEY. Easy. You turn left at the traffic lights, up the High Street, first left, second right, first left round the gasworks, over the railway bridge, past the reservoir, round the back of the Town Hall, up an alleyway and back here.

  TONY. That’s not much of a tour, is it?

  SIDNEY. What do you expect for five bob?

  TONY. No, I suppose so. Alright then, where’s the coach?

  SIDNEY. What coach?

  TONY. The coach we tour in.

  SIDNEY. I didn’t say anything about a coach. You have to walk.

  TONY. I could do that for nothing. I don’t have to pay you five bob to walk up the High Street.

  SIDNEY. Ah yeah, if you want to wander aimlessly, but you’re paying for the organisation. I’ve taken great care in drawing up a carefully detailed itinery.

  TONY. Oh, there’s an itinery.

  SIDNEY. Certainly. All good tours have an itinery.

  BILL. Hundred and ninety-eight.

  TONY. Pardon?

  BILL. There’s a hundred and ninety-eight nails on this side.

  TONY. Right, well count the nails on the other side, then you can start on the knotholes.

  BILL. Right.

  TONY. Now, where’s this itinery?

  SIDNEY. Here we are, Tour number Five, East Cheam High Street and the shops. Leave here at one o’clock. One 0 two, stop at the shoe shop and watch the blokes mending shoes in the windows, thirteen 0 three, all back in line to start off again.

  TONY. Hang on, I want more than a minute to watch the shoe menders. They wouldn’t have more than a quarter tip on in that time.

  SIDNEY. I’m sorry, this is a strict timetable, you can’t hold up the tour for individual members, you’ll have to catch the others up outside the chemists shop.

  TONY. What, and miss the greengrocers?

  SIDNEY. That’s the way it goes. Now then, thirteen 0 four, stop at the butchers shop and watch the sausages coming out of the machine.

  TONY. Oh, that’ll be an attraction.

  SIDNEY. I’ve laid it on with Harry the Butcher. He makes a special batch of sausages for the benefit of my clients. We allow two minutes for that, then thirteen 0 six back in line for refreshments

  TONY. Oh, we get refreshments?

  SIDNEY. Yeah, all fixed up. I’ve arranged with the caterers for special parties of up to thirty.

  TONY. What do we get?

  SIDNEY. A glass of cherryade each at the sweetshop. Two minutes to get that down you, then a quick tour of the shop windows in King Street, walk past the gas works, round the resevoir, and round the back of the Town Hall. By this time we might be a bit tight on the schedule so you’ll probably have to run the last half mile to be back here by thirteen 0 ten.

  TONY. And that’s it is it? That’s the five-shilling mystery tour.

  SIDNEY. Yeah, roughly. I mean, naturally I haven’t put all the attractions down. You’ve got to create some of your own enjoyment, we like to leave our clients some freedom of choice. I mean, we don’t tell you where you have to look, we’ve only made suggestions where to look. You can look where you like, you don’t have to look in the shop windows if you don’t want to.

  TONY. As long as we keep in line.

  SIDNEY. Exactly, and don’t hold it up at all, keep it moving. There’s a lot more in it than there is down there.

  TONY. That’s true, I mean, I could take my camera along, couldn’t I?

  SIDNEY. Certainly you could.

  TONY. Make a pictorial record of the tour so to speak.

  SIDNEY. That’s it, a lot of people do just that.

  TONY. You could take photos of the lamp posts, and the traffic lights, and the cars parked along the street.

  SIDNEY. Then you can buy a projector, and entertain your friends, get a few drinks in, have a marvellous evening. I reckon it’s fantastic value for five bob.

  TONY. You do.

  SIDNEY. Certainly. I realise it’s not as comprehensive as some of the more expensive ones, but it’s not bad for the money. It fulfills a certain demand in the popular price range.

  TONY. You may be right. But personally… I mean this is only my opinion you realise…

  SIDNEY. Quite.

  TONY. Personally speaking, I would say at first sight… without going into it of course…! would say this is without a doubt the biggest take on I have ever come across.

  SIDNEY. Well, everybody’s entitled to their own opinion. Now are you going on the tour or not, ’cos you’d better get on the queue forming over there by the sandbin –they’ll be off in five minutes, as soon as we’ve got a full load.

  TONY. I’m not tramping round East Cheam looking in shop windows. What other tours have you got?

  SIDNEY. There’s our seven and six Class A tour.

  TONY. What’s that?

  SIDNEY. That’s the same as the other one only you walk slower. The ten bob de luxe tour, the windows you look in are a much better class of shop. Then there’s the…

  TONY. Don’t go on. Am I to take it you’re running about twelve Mystery Tours with not one single coach.

  SIDNEY. I can’t afford any, the season’s only just started.

  TONY. Well, I want my money back. I am a dissatisfied customer.

  SIDNEY. How can you be dissatisfied, you haven’t been on the tour yet.

  TONY. I’ve been up and down this town thousands of times, and I know it’s as miserable experience as one could wish to find. Give me my money back or I shall cause trouble.

  SIDNEY. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. The estimated turnover of this company is fifty thousand nicker a year, but as I know you, I’ll sell you a half share for ten bob.

  TONY. Ten bob? Ten bob?

  SIDNEY. Alright, seven and six. I’m not going any lower. Here, you sign here.

  TONY. Wait a minute, there’s something fishy here. Why should you have a contract already drawn up. Look at it, twenty-seven pages of illuminated parchment, this must have cost you more than seven and six… What’s the catch?

  SIDNEY. No catch. You’re quite right, I can’t give all my time to this little number, I’ve got so many other interests… I need somebody like you to take it over from me… It’ll have to go, I’d sooner you, a friend of the family, than a stranger. Here you are… I’ll give you fifty-one percent of the company… controlling interest… I keep forty-nine per cent. It’s yours, then I can’t do anything you don’t agree with.

  TONY. That’s true. Fifty-one beats forty-nine. Has this company got all the trimmings. Office and all that?

  SIDNEY. Certainly.

  TONY. Has it got a long table with a big hammer at the end?

  SIDNEY. Yeah. You’ll be sitting at the end in your black coat and striped trousers on… Managing Director, intercom… send in Miss Krint, it’s all there.

  TONY. For seven and six.

  SIDNEY. Yeah.

  TONY. It’s a deal. I’ve always fancied the big hammer. T. H., there’s S. J. and B. K. to see you. Marvellous, a big row of note pads and three secretaries with funny glasses on… that’s me, mate. Where do I sign?

  SIDNEY. Just here, there and there. And a witness.

  TONY. BILL. Where’s he gone? I bet he’s gone off picking up bus tickets again. Where is he?

  BILL. Ninety-eight nails, and thirty-three knotholes. Shall I count the nails on the roof now?

  TONY. In a minute. Sign this.

  BILL. What is it?

  TONY. Mind your own business… Sign it.

  BILL. Oh, alright.

  TONY. Come on now, no printing, real writing.

  BILL. What, you mean joining all the letters together?

  TONY. Yes.

  BILL. Alright then. William Kerr. There. />
  TONY. Nothing like it. Could be anything. Looks like a line on a temperature chart.

  BILL. That’s good enough for me. Well, there it is, you now own a controlling interest in Sid James Mystery Tours Ltd.

  TONY. Thank you very much. What do we do first then?

  SIDNEY. Get a good lawyer.

  BILL. What for?

  SIDNEY. The police are after this firm.

  TONY. The police?

  SIDNEY. Certainly, what do you expect? Running a Mystery Tour Firm without any coaches. That’s fraud. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

  TONY. But it’s not my fault.

  SIDNEY. Of course it is. You’re the boss.

  TONY. You didn’t tell me anything about the police.

  SIDNEY. It’s in the minutes. You ought to read the minutes when you’re Managing Director of a firm.

  TONY. Well, where are they?

  SIDNEY. They’re in the files. You’ve got access to them.

  TONY. I’ve only just taken the firm over.

  SIDNEY. I don’t think they’ll take that as an excuse. I think you’re in dead trouble, son.

  TONY. What can I do about it?

  SIDNEY. You’ll have to buy a coach.

  TONY. That’ll cost over five thousand pounds.

  SIDNEY. It’s nothing to do with me, you’re the boss. I just collect forty-nine per cent of the profits.

  TONY. Oh I see, that’s it, is it? I supply the coach which you couldn’t afford, and you collect forty-nine per cent of it.

  SIDNEY. I’m entitled to it. I built the firm up.

  TONY. What do you mean, built it up. All you’ve got is one shed with two hundred and ninety-eight nails, thirty-three knotholes, and a box of chalks for writing the tours out with.

  SIDNEY. Well, it’s up to you, if you want to go to prison, that’s your look out.

  TONY. I can’t find five thousand pounds for a coach.

  SIDNEY. How much can you find?

  TONY. If I sold everything about a thousand pounds.

  SIDNEY. Well, I don’t know why I should help you, a frauder like you, but as you’re a friend of the family… I might be able to get hold of one.

  TONY. Where from?

  SIDNEY. Sid James Scottish Tours Ltd. They’ve got a second-hand one going for a thousand nicker. I might be able to persuade the Board of Directors to let you have it.

  TONY. I see. Sid James Scottish Tours have got a coach.

  SIDNEY. Oh yes.

  TONY. They probably bought it for … what? Two hundred?

  SIDNEY. Somewhere round that. Of course it’s an old one.

  TONY. Oh, naturally. An open one, I expect, with solid tyres,

  SIDNEY. Yeah, that’s right.

  TONY. Vintage, what?… 1926?

  SIDNEY. 1917.

  TONY. Seventeen. Oh, a very good year for motor coaches that was. Shall I tell you something, I’m not as dim as I look, I am not buying it… I am going to liquidate this firm as from now.

  SIDNEY. You can’t

  TONY. I can, I own fifty-one per cent of the shares.

  SIDNEY. Ah yes, that’s A shares, not the B shares.

  TONY. Oh cor… alright, come on, how does that work?

  SIDNEY. Well, you only own Investing shares, that entitles you to put money into the firm… I own all the voting shares. You can’t liquidate without the permission of the voting shareholders, and I withhold it.

  TONY. That means the police are after you as well.

  SIDNEY. No. I’m in the clear. I’ve got it in the minutes. Here it is, Saturday morning extraordinary General Meeting held outside the shed. The chief voting shareholder called upon the chief investing shareholder to invest in a coach and he refused. That’d clear me in any court of law that will.

  TONY. I see. So what it amounts to is this… I’ve either got to buy from you for a thousand pounds a coach that’s only worth two hundred or I go to prison, and if I buy the coach you take forty-nine per cent of the profits. And I paid you seven and six to put myself in this powerful position.

  SIDNEY. That’s about the size of it.

  TONY. Hmmm. Bill, how would you like to buy a company for five shillings?

  BILL. No thanks.

  TONY. Two and six.

  BILL. No, I don’t want to go to prison.

  TONY. How did you know? I thought you were counting the nails on the roof.

  BILL. I was listening.

  TONY. Why don’t you mind your own business.

  SIDNEY. Well, what about it then?

  TONY. I don’t appear to have any choice do I?

  SIDNEY. No, not really.

  TONY. Very well, I shall buy the coach. Here’s your cheque.

  SIDNEY. Thank you.

  TONY. I shall build this company up and recoup my losses by honest means. I’ll build it into one of the biggest coach tour companies in the country by sheer hard work and perseverance. Then, at the end of five years you’ll want to buy it back off me.

  SIDNEY. No I won’t.

  TONY. Why not?

  SIDNEY. Our licence is up in a week.

  BILL. I told you you shouldn’t sign anything without reading it.

  TONY. Oh shut up, it’s all your fault, counting knotholes instead of advising me. We’ve got a week now to try and get our money back, go get out of it you ratbag, go on, go and get that coach, you’re driving it. We’ll get some Americans off the boat train.

  Grams. Music link.

  Grams. Old coach ticking over… Traffic noises.

  TONY. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen visiting our shores from the far off Americas, and welcome to East Cheam, Surrey, England, Europe. My name is Anthony and I will be your guide for this tour of East Cheam and the surrounding districts, and I’m sure all you American ladies and gentlemen will find much of interest to you in this historic and beautiful slice of ye olde Merrie Englande.

  HOVIS. [An American] Hey, these seats are hard, mac.

  TONY. Exactly why I thought they may appeal to you, sir. You see this coach is the original coach that Dick Turpin held up on his ride to Grimsby to welcome home the herring fleets.

  Omnes. Muttering of interest.

  HOVIS. Aw gee, did you hear that, Hortense?

  HORTENSE. I certainly did, Hovis honey, isn’t that the cutest thing.

  TONY. Well now, if you’ll have your cameras at the ready we’ll have a hundredweight of used film piled up at the back there before we get to the end of the High Street. Right you are, Sir William, off we go.

  Effects. Old car starting and continues:

  BILL. [English] Right you are, old bean, roger and all that, what?

  HOVIS. Hey, is he a real lord?

  TONY. What him. Lord Kerr. Oh my goodness me yes. He’s the seventeenth Earl of West Chiswick. Very old family, he’s on his hols from Eton you know… I suggest big tips for him at the end, he’s got a castle to keep up you know.

  HOVIS. Oh yeah, sure, sure. Hear that, Hortense, a real lord driving the coach for us.

  HORTENSE. Oh gee, Hovis, just wait till the Women’s Guild hear about this back in Grand Rapids, G. A.

  TONY. As we pass along this historic High Street, mentioned in the Domesday Book, compiled by Alfred the Great, the well known king, in 793 at the request of the barons at Runnymede near Ascot Race Track…

  HOVIS. I thought that was King William the Conqueror.

  TONY. Ah yes, well it was in his name but he was away at the time, he couldn’t attend, he was on a Crusade against the Vikings just outside Clacton. There’s a good shot over there look…

  Effects. Creak of car springs:

  TONY. … don’t all crowd on one side of the bus, you’ll have the springs off. Notice the colourful local costumes of the native women as they go about their shopping. The rundown platform shoes, the quaint fag hanging from the corner of the mouth, serving as a constant reminder of that great explorer Sir Walter Drake who discovered a tobacco plant in Virginia the well-known part of America. And the co
lourful headscarf covering the traditional metal curlers in the hair. Note the headscarf is shaped in the form of a turban, as a tribute to our long-standing ties with India and the British Commonwealth, Turn left here, Sir William.

  BILL. Right yob are, old bean, shall be done.

  Effects. Screech of brakes.

  TONY. I would like you to note the local tradesmen in their quaint shops as they carry on their ancient traditional crafts. Notice the centuries of skill that have gone into the way the old clockmaker levers open another crate of watches from Switzerland. Note the loving care devoted by the local butcher on the many sides of roast beef of Old England specially frozen for us in the Argentine. The natives love of their traditional dishes and local foods is evident in the grocers shop piled high with processed cheese, tinned fruit and frozen vegetables… Over the bridge across the picturesque polluted river down which floats impressive mountains of detergent foam… we can see the local housewives attending to their weekly wash. Note the weary slump of their shoulders as they lean forward and peer through the little glass portholes to see if their sheets are done yet. Over there on the right we are passing one of our largest public buildings. A typical example of the more obsolete and generally accepted ugly periods of Victorian architecture… built in 1957. That tree you see over there with the railings round it is the Green Belt area of this district. Thanks to the great public spiritedness of the council and local businessmen, no one is allowed to build on it, and it will be preserved for the benefit and enjoyment of the public for all time. That concludes the first half of the tour, we will now stop at this picturesque, leaded-light, low-roofed, brass-filled horror known as Nan’s Pantry for a farmhouse tea.

  HORTENSE. Gee, Hovis, just think we’re going to have a real English tea.

  HOVIS. Oh gee, Hortense, and I hear they make it in a strange way over here. All loose and slopping about instead of in bags.

  HORTENSE. Oh, what a shame, perhaps they can’t afford the tea bags.

  HOVIS. Yeah, I guess that’s it.

  HORTENSE. [Whispers] Hovis, now’s your chance, ask the gentleman.

  HOVIS. Oh yeah, sure. Er… excuse me – er, Anthony? I wonder if I could get a shot of my wife standing next to the English Me Lord.

  TONY. Why certainly, by all means, [calls] Er – Sir William. [To Hovis] It’ll cost you half a dollar.

  HOVIS. Half a dollar, that’s fifty cents.