by Elton, Ben
GASPING
the play
by
Ben Elton
Gasping was first performed at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, London, on 1st June 1990. The cast, in order of appearance, was as follows:
PHILIP
SIR CHIFFLEY LOCKHEART (CHIEF)
SANDY
MISS HODGES
KIRSTEN
WEATHER FORECASTER/MINISTER/
REPORTER
Hugh Laurie
Bernard Hill
Simon Mattacks
Catherine McQueen
Jaye Griffiths
Catherine McQueen
With the voice of Stephen Fry
Directed by Bob Spiers. Designed by Terry Parsons. Produced by Philip McIntyre.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
The Executive Boardroom of Lockheart Holdings. A power office with large panoramic windows. A strategy meeting is in progress, graphs and charts. PHILIP and SANDY, two top young exec’s, are pitching to SIR CHIFFLEY LOCKHEART, the Chief.
PHILIP: And so Chief, as you can see, all divisions are way way ahead of seasonal predictions. Look (he takes a graph) this is my biggest graph and Peter Profit is way way off the right hand corner... I’ve had to glue two together (he proudly folds it out)... Well obviously I didn’t do it. I had some of my people do it. Anyway, whoever did it, the results, as I think you’ll agree, are impressive. Our corporate hem-line is showing off plenty of stunning thigh. If this keeps up much longer we’re going to have to move into a very much bigger pair of corporate trousers. Possibly Switzerland.
CHIEF (slightly confused by PHILIP’S language): Hmm, yes, can I just get this clear Philip. We’re making money? Is that what you’re trying to say?
PHILIP: Senior money, Chief. If God wanted to buy into Lockheart stock, he’d have to think twice and talk to his people.
CHIEF: Good. Good, at least I think good. So taking a broad view Philip, charts and presentation rubbish aside, what’s your personal gut reaction?
PHILIP (thoughtfully pacing): Well Chief, I would have to say, that I am very excited. In fact I have said it, I said it to my people only this morning, ‘People,’ I said, ‘I am very excited,’ and they know I don’t mince about the bush. But it isn’t just me Chief, the sales task force is very excited. The boys in corporate raiding are very excited. The market strike unit damage control spin doctors are very excited. Above all Chief you should be excited... Sir Chiffley Lockheart should feel like a twelve-year-old who’s just discovered it’s not only for pissing.
(A phone rings. PHILIP and SANDY instantly produce portable phones.)
PHILIP, SANDY: Not now goddammit.
(The phone rings again. CHIEF calmly picks up one of the phones on his desk.)
CHIEF: Thank you Miss Hodges, could you possibly hold all calls? Thank you... (crossing to champagne trolley, fingering bottles.) And you Sandy, how do you feel about our corporate erection? Are you as excited as Philip?
SANDY: Well Chief, I wouldn’t want to commit myself fully until I’d talked to my people, but off the cuff, as a non-binding, ball park reaction, I’d say that if anything I was slightly more excited than Philip.
CHIEF: More excited?
SANDY: Slightly Sir.
CHIEF: I see. (pause) Unfortunately, I’m not.
SANDY: Slightly more excited than Philip in one way Sir... but in twelve other ways, rather less so (stifles yawn)...
PHILIP (surprised pause): Chief, I’m just not in following mode here. I mean, look at the graph! We couldn’t be making any more money if we were a Lesbian couple with six test-tube kids living off the social security in a Labour controlled borough while the Home Office tried to send us back to Sri Lanka.
CHIEF: Please don’t misunderstand me Philip. I’m pleased, good lord yes, oh no question there. It’s just that I’m not excited.
PHILIP: You’re not?
CHIEF: I couldn’t be less excited if you were both Swedish.
PHILIP (pulling himself together): Chief, you’re absolutely right. OK, so Peter Profit has opened up his dirty mac and said, ‘What about that for a whopper.’ But hell, there are bigger girls in the cat-house down the street and they can squat down and pick up ping-pong balls! and, What’s more, without using their hands. We have to meet Terry Triumph and Derek Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same.
SANDY: The Chief’s right Phil. Champagne? Forget it, mine’s a cup of coffee, very black and I’m onto my next video ledger heading for the right hand column with my decimal point in my hand.
PHILIP (packing up his visual aids): Sorry to have wasted your time Chief. We’ll be back when this red line (the graph) is wound round the room so often you’d think it was a Blue Peter Christmas appeal ...
(They are about to go.)
CHIEF (stopping them): Don’t be absurd, our profits are quite magnificent. I’m delighted with them. But you have to. face facts. There is nothing remotely exciting about our present success. We make our huge piles of money by having huge piles of money. We buy land, take over factories, invest in other people’s labour and creative zeal.
(PHILIP and SANDY are rather crushed.)
CHIEF (reflecting for a moment; he has something significant to tell them): Gentlemen, I’m no longer a young man but my life so far has been a full one. I’ve seen a great deal and I’ve bought almost all of it. I’ve hobbed with the rich and I’ve nobbed with the beautiful. Do you want to know what is exciting? (pause) The Pot Noodle. That’s what’s exciting. Find me a Pot Noodle, then you shall see your old Chief excited.
(There is a brief pause for surprise.)
PHILIP (pacing across the room, hits the intercom): Daphne get your sweet little ass in here pronto dammit, with some Norris Noodles, instant variety, assorted flavours and why the hell wasn’t this anticipated. You’re paid to think goddammit ...
(intercom off) All sorted Chief, I can’t imagine how it got overlooked.
CHIEF (at intercom): Cancel the last request Miss Hodges. I should explain Philip that I am employing a metaphor ...
PHILIP: You won’t find I have a problem with that Chief, if a guy’s good, I don’t care where his parents were born.
CHIEF: (arm round PHILIP): Philip, come over here, let me show you something.
PHILIP: With you Chief.
CHIEF: It’s a painting by Rembrandt, who as you may be aware, was a painter. It is a torso.
(They cross to wall where a picture hangs.)
PHILIP (wishing to convey awe-struck delight): Oh…… Oh Sir, oh oh oh Chief it’s exquisite Sir, quite exquisite the uhm colour…… and the light, yes, that’s it, the light. Am I right Sandy? back me up.
SANDY: No question Philip, the guy had senior talent. The sort of rough-hewn, fierce-eyed, canvas-covering cowboy who’d get up in the morning and say to his shaving mirror, ‘I can paint. I will paint.’ By mid-afternoon he’s holding a major retrospective and he’s bored.
PHILIP: Exactly! Chief, let me tell you a little about the way I see this guy. Come 5.30 on the West bank of the Seine, when all the other smock-wearers are packing up their brushes ready for another evening of booze, whores, and trying to come to terms with being only three feet tall, friend Rembrandt power-packs another paletteful, phones the Louvre, tells them to clear a wall and before you know it, the Mona Lisa’s winking that inscrutable wink at him while her ears dry.
CHIEF: You’re an admirer then?
PHILIP: Be a fool not to be Chief. The fact that Rembrandt had access to real business-class ability is not negotiable. Christ, you only have to look at the guy’s product (indicating canvas).
CHIEF: Well you may be right, I’m sure you are, but as it happens, this isn’t the picture. This is the picture of the br
ight purple Spanish girl in the nude that some clever so-and-so sells millions of every year. The Rembrandt’s behind it. (pushes button, picture rises up, to reveal second picture set in wall) What do you think?
PHILIP: ... And this one’s the Rembrandt is it?
CHIEF: It is.
PHILIP: Oh, oh Chief, oh oh oh Chief...... it’s exquisite Sir, quite exquisite ...
CHIEF: The light and the colour good?
PHILIP: Terrific.
CHlEF: Good, because this pretty little Dutch girl cost me seventy-two million pounds. (general gasp) I think they saw me coming, what do you think?
PHILIP: We-ell, I suppose it is a substantial wad to lay out for a piccy, but you’re a ‘can do, must have’ kind of guy Sir. Sandy?
SANDY: When Sir Chiffley Lockheart says ‘I want’, the price tag does not have a seat at the negotiating table.
CHIEF: The point I am trying to make gentlemen, is that this (the painting) is a Pot Noodle. And this ... (takes Spanish picture) by a matter of coincidence is also a Pot Noodle. Do you want to know what a Pot Noodle is?
PHILIP: Uhm it’s a painting?
CHIEF: A Pot Noodle is the most beautiful thing on Earth. It is a new way of making money. A way of making money ... where no money existed before: the very definition of excitement.
PHILIP: Look, I’m probably being thicker than a middle manager’s filofax here Chief, but I’m just not in an ‘understanding you’ mode at all. Uhm what is a Pot Noodle?
CHIEF: It’s a large plastic cup containing chemically-saturated dried spaghetti and peas to which the consumer is instructed to add boiling water.
PHILIP: Ye-e-s ... and perhaps you could talk me through the significance factor on this one ...
CHIEF: The most unlikely food stuff in history. When they launched it nobody gave it a chance ... Nonetheless, against all expectations the market not only absorbed it, but embraced it. There was no drop in sales of any other form of food. Money had been generated where no money existed before.
PHILIP (very impressed): And all because of one bonkers, iron-willed trouble-shooter who put his balls into a cup of spaghetti.
CHIEF: Only the British could market Pot Noodle, because only the British would eat them. That unknown marketing hero had faith in the concrete, rat-like digestive system of the British consumer and he’s been in profit since day one.
PHILIP: My God Chief, that’s probably the most inspirational anecdote I’ve come across since I first leafed through my Gideon in a Holiday Inn.
CHIEF: Pot Noodles come in all shapes and sizes. This picture is worth seventy-two million because that’s what I paid for it, nothing to do with its intrinsic value. There’s probably more light and colour in a packet of fruit-flavoured Polos. What makes the thing so special is that when I sell it the bidding will start at seventy-two million. This (the Spanish painting) is a Pot Noodle ... Who could possibly have predicted that anyone would want anything so ugly, and yet some brilliant fellow thought of printing them onto hardboard and getting Woolworth’s to stock them next to the Pick’n’Mix. Anyone worth their company BMW can carve a bigger share of an existing market, but show me the person who can make a pound where there was no pound to be made. That’s the fellow who’s going to be sitting alongside me and the board in the executive Jacuzzi whirlpool bath.
PHILIP: The executive Jason Chief, that’s a mightily big carrot!
CHIEF: Find me a Pot Noodle and you’re in it Philip, what’s more you can sit on one of the jets. Find me a Pot Noodle!! Bring the excitement back! Make me some money where no money existed. Make an old man happy!!
SCENE TWO
Cut to darkness.
The sounds of a squash court, the huge grunting of the players, the banging of the ball, followed by anguished shouts of self-loathing.
(HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK ...) Hell bugger-it!!
(HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK ...) Oh for Christ’s sake what the hell am I doing!
(HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK ...) Come on, God I’m playing like a total prat.
(HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK HUR!-BONK...) Bollocks!
(SANDY and PHILIP front of stage in squash gear, they put their phones down. They have rackets but they mime the ball. They face outwards towards the audience who are the back wall.)
PHILIP: Well I must say I’m looking forward to a couple of punishing points of ‘wallop the bollock’ eh Sandy?
SANDY: In likewise mode Philip!
(They warm up etc.)
PHILIP: Feeling pretty trim actually — by bugger I’ve pumped so much iron lately you could melt me down and beat me into a canteen of cutlery.
SANDY: I’ll lob one up shall I?
PHILIP: Give it your best shot young Sandy.
SANDY (mimes a hard serve with a grunting): Huuurrrr!! PHILIP (mimes a return with an even bigger): Huuurrrrrrrr!!!
(PHILIP bobs about as if ready to return again, but SANDY has relaxed and is looking behind him at the ground. It is clear that despite PHILIP’S huge lunge and grunt, he missed his shot ‘completely.)
SANDY: Out.
PHILIP (realizing): Hmmm, yes, I suppose technically it is, yes, not bad Sandy, not bad at all, but you’re putting far too much curve on it. Try to imagine that there’s an invisible string attaching your right wrist to your left ear. Here, look, I’ll show you. (he picks up the imaginary ball and plays shot with huge grunt, SANDY returns, PHILIP lunges, grunts and misses again) You forgot the string Sandy, you’re not concentrating are you? You’d better serve, give you the edge.
SANDY: Right you are, love all then.
PHILIP: Love all it is. (SANDY is about to serve, PHILIP stops him) Of course I can’t blame you for being off your stroke after the session we had with the Chief this morning. He certainly is an inspiration.
SANDY: Mmm. So it’s love-all.
PHILIP: And not likely to change until you serve, old scout.
SANDY (gives him a look and then serves): Hurrr (BONK).
PHILIP: I mean, working the ... (ball hits wall BONK) kind of hours I do ...
(PHILIP returns BONK ...)
PHILIP: ... a fellow needs a passion ... (ball hits wall BONK) for some people there’s always birds I suppose ...
(SANDY returns BONK.)
PHILIP: ... but not me I’ve no time for totty (ball hits wall BONK) ... Ha!!!
(PHILIP makes huge lunge and swipe, and misses. The ball goes Dibbly Dibbly.)
SANDY: One-love.
PHILIP: Mmmm, did you see what I was trying to show you there? Cross-court wrong foot, well worth picking up.
SANDY (picking up ball and preparing serve): One-love.
PHILIP: Technically yes.
SANDY(serves): Hurrrr (BONK).
PHILIP: Quite frankly ... (ball hits wall BONK) ... if I do make totty time ...
(PHILIP hits ball BONK.)
PHILIP: ... the ruddy girl’s ... (ball hits wall BONK) always busy. Amazing ...
(It was a lob, SANDY watches it land, turns round and plays it off back wall BONK ...)
PHILIP (turning round as well): Ah, now your problem is ... (Ball hits wall BONK. They both turn out again ... ball goes Dibble Dibble.)
SANDY: My point.
PHILIP: Ye-es, but it could so easily not have been ... I played my drop plonker shot into your gutter.
SANDY: Two-love (walking forward to pick up ball).
PHILIP: So there you were with my plonker in your gutter and you go to pieces, start looking the wrong way and God knows what. Can’t blame you really, it is pretty disconcerting when one considers just how ruddy busy girls are these days. Sometimes I can’t believe how busy they are.
SANDY: I find they can usually make time. Two-love. (he serves) Hurrr (BONK).
PHILIP: Actually we’re lucky really, (ball hits wall BONK) more time to ...
(PHILIP hits ball BONK.)
PHILIP: ... forge that career ... (ball hits wall BONK) ... dream those dreams.
(SANDY hits ball BONK.)
&nbs
p; PHILIP: Sir Chiffley gave us ... (ball hits wall BONK) ... a dream today ...
(SANDY hits ball very hard BONK. Almost immediately it hits wall BONK. PHILIP lunges, misses, we hear it hit side wall BONK, PHILIP lunges feebly as ball hits three other walls BONK BONK BONK. Finally it goes Dibble Dibble.)
PHILIP: You see Sandy, that was all over the place.
SANDY: Three-love.
PHILIP: I don’t blame you for being distracted. What an inspiration the old man is. Just imagine it Sandy, aeroplanes were Pot Noodles once, and artificial limbs. Hang on to that, it’ll see you through when the bulls turn into bears and some secretary’s put herbal tea in the Kenco. By crikey, it’d be a pretty strange fellow who could get lonely doing the sort of big, important job we do. Quite frankly I don’t have time to get lonely.
