Radioplay:
Holus Bolus

A generous insanity

 

HOLUS-BOLUS is a new game of life.
 
The pace throughout is more frantic than any day we have yet known.
In fact, Mr. Placketts and his fellow victims of Graeme Baffner's folly are speaking in a score of different languages. For the sake of sanity we shall hear them only in English.

 

CHARACTERS

GRAEME BAFFNER...... ......pioneering scientist
CAROL FROUDE...... ......his old flame
PLACKETTS...... ......a Yorkshire businessman
CHEREPOVETS...... ......the Russian President
MME. CHEREPOVETS...... ......his wife
OSBERT CHINERY...... ......a powerful psychic
MELNIKOV...... ......Russian General
BIBCOFF...... ......Russian General
GILES...... ......one of BAFFNER'S subjects
MAXIE...... ......BAFFNER'S assistant
SMOLENSK...... ......Russian officer
RALPH HODEGKINS...... ......another psychic
BARRY EVANS...... ......a Welsh miner
GUARD AT O'JONESBURG INSTITUTE
SMOLENSK'S BROTHER
DEPUTY BALAIEV
RUSSIAN DEPUTIES
U.S. PRESIDENT RINALDI
AUSTRIAN WAITER
BIBCOFF'S AGENT
PSYCHICS
FRENCH GIRL
FRENCH PASSPORT OFFICER
MEHMET PAKDEMIRLI
U.S. PRISON GUARD
DANNY, DEATH ROW PRISONER
DICK, DOMINATRIX'S CLIENT
MALTRAVERS, LUNATIC
JAPANESE DOCTOR
JAPANESE MOTHER
3 INDIAN FISHERMEN
A RATHER ABUSIVE RABBI
DEREK, CAROL'S HUSBAND
FEINDORF, CIA OPERATIVE
ADMIRAL CLOPSTOCK
SGT. PEREZLOPEZ
FLORES
COL. BRANCOCHAVES
SANCHEZ
SOUTH AMERICAN SOLDIERS
JACK PLACKETTS, PLACKETTS' BROTHER
CRUMMEY, DUBLINER
NOONAN, HIS FRIEND

SCENE 1 WE PLAY IN WITH ERIC MORECAMBE'S PLAYING OF GRIEG'S PIANO CONCERTO: THE RIGHT NOTES BUT NOT NECESSARILY IN THE RIGHT ORDER!
CUT THIS ABRUPTLY. CAROL IMMEDIATELY BEGINS A SWIFT NARRATION. SHE IS ALMOST FLIPPANT, IN A HURRY. UNDER HER SPEECH WE HEAR THE LIMOUSINE PULL UP. THE DOOR OPENS AND HER WALKING ON GRAVEL IN HIGH HEELS.

 
CAROL: A beautiful cool morning. It's going to be another scorcher, I'm sure. This is me arriving at the O'Jonesburg Institute. I haven't seen Graeme Baffner in 20 years, during which time I have, as you know, married three men almost exactly like him to look at, or the way he looked 20 years ago, only nowhere near as clever, of course. I'm not just saying it: he really is just about the cleverest man ever. He'll rule the World one day we used to say, Charles and I. God! There he is coming down the steps, and looking just as he looked when we were students together. I suddenly feel so ashamed, such a sense of having wasted my life. He always did that to me. I swear he's wearing nothing under that lab coat. Bare feet, even.
 
BARE FEET PATTING DOWN STEPS
 
BAFFNER: (BRIMMING OVER, BUT IT COMES ACROSS AS SOMETHING OF AN ACT, OR IS IT JUT HIS MANNER?) Carol, my dear thing. I'm so glad you've come. I did hope! I did! I did! I invited Charles as well…
 
CAROL: (EMBARRASSMENT HUSHES HER VOICE) Charles? (BRAVELY) Charles is…
 
BAFFNER: But apparently he's dead.
 
CAROL: Brain tumour.
 
BAFFNER: (LAUGHS) I wish he'd said something. I could have fixed him up in a minute. Come straight in. Excuse me, but I'm stark naked under here. I was under my lamp. Did you know that there are more spiders in the average English field than there are people asleep in China?
 
CAROL: (DELIGHTED, BUT SOMEWHAT BLANK DUE TO GENERAL SURPRISE) I did. It was the last thing you said to me 20 years ago.
 
BAFFNER: (FAST, ONE GEAR ABOVE MUTTERING) I'm always repeating myself. Do you remember when we were students I was always saying that science was worthless because it only operated in the abstract. Everyone else was making models of the human mind: robots, computers. Not me! Not even than. I've only ever bothered myself with the real living thing. (BECOMING ALMOST CAMP) Because it is mysterious, Carol, infinite in its complexities and unexpected in its abilities. (LAUGHING AT HIMSELF) But what do I discover? I discover that we ourselves are an abstract, that every one of us is. (A SUDDEN SWITCH TO SERIOUSNESS) You've lost your looks.
 
CAROL: (WITHOUT REGRET) I know.
 
BAFFNER LAUGHS WICKEDLY. AUTOMATIC DOORS SWISH OPEN AND SHUT. A SECURITY GUARD STAMPS A SALUTE.
 
GUARD: Mr. Baffner, sir!
 
BAFFNER: A disc for Carol! A disc! A disc! Better wear this, dear, or someone may shoot you. (LAUGHS)
 
GUARD: (PRESENTING THE DISC) Sir! (HE ABOUT TURNS AND MARCHES OFF)
 
THEY WALK ALONG A LONG CORRIDOR. DOORS KEEP SWISHING OPEN. BAFFNER KEEPS GIGGLING.
 
CAROL: Is this all yours?
 
BAFFNER: All! All mine! My baby! We can change in here. (MEETS SOMEONE COMING THROUGH) Giles, my dear boy, they got you back! Where were you?
 
GILES: Bolivia.
 
BAFFNER: (GIGGLES) Bolivia!
 
GILES: Bolivia. Surrounded by llamas in a mountain hut.
 
BAFFNER: Sounds divine.
 
GILES: Wasn't!
 
BAFFNER: Boy or girl?
 
GILES: I was a girl. 22.
 
BAFFNER: This is Carol by the way, an old flame.
 
GILES: Very nice, I'm sure.
 
BAFFNER: And you're quite all right? No strange thoughts?
 
GILES: Actually, just now, I did have the thought I might grab a hold of your tongue and jam it in the door.
 
BAFFNER: (GIGGLES) Nothing unusual then.
 
GILES: Ta-ta!
 
BAFFNER: (UNDER HIS BREATH TO CAROL) You'd think he'd be grateful for the experience! Put these overalls on, dear. I've got some somewhere with my name on. Here we are! (THROWING OFF HIS LAB COAT) Don't mind my bare bodkin, do you?
 
CAROL: (AN EMBARRASSED CLEARING OF THE THROAT, THEN WHILE CHANGING) If this incredible establishment is all yours why is it called the O'Jonesburg Institute? Why not the Baffner Institute?
 
BAFFNER: O'Jonesburg is funnier. (A NEW TONE IN HIS VOICE) Look, Carol, my dearest old darling. I know we've sort of lost touch, but I haven't stopped loving you for a minute, honest, and today it's very important to me that you should be here. I'm going to change the world today, dear, radically, absolutely, the biggest change ever. I'm going to do it, me is, and I just had to have one of the old gang to see… do you understand?
 
CAROL: What exactly are you going to…?
 
BAFFNER: I won't get technical. I refuse to get technical, because I can see from your face that you haven't opened a book since pussy was a cat. I'm going to throw a man's personality out of his head and put it in another man's head on the other side of the world, thereby setting in motion a chain reaction in which the personality of every human being will be cut loose, like six billion balloons floating over the mountains, floating into a distance where they become a single huge balloon - am I getting too technical?
 
CAROL: You're joking?
 
BAFFNER: Oh, no. No. This is why you're here. To see. We're concentrating on the pineal gland, in the brain.
 
CAROL: I know where the pineal gland is.
 
BAFFNER: Of course you do, dear: well we're fiddling mercilessly with it, when I say we, I mean all the psychics. Did I tell you about the psychics? Let's go! Let's go!
 

 
SCENE 2 DISCREET PLINK-GLOOPITY-GLOOP OF TANKS. OCCASIONAL BWANGGGGGG OF A PSYCHIC TWITCHING IN A TANK.
 
BAFFNER: (HUSHED) They're all kidnapped, really. Wicked isn't it? I've got 142 of the world's best psychics in there.
 
CAROL: I can't see anyone.
 
BAFFNER: Oh no! Oh no! You can't SEE them. Not from here. It would ruin their concentration. They never leave the tanks, not for weeks on end. They're concentrating. I've got Osbert Chinery in Number 64. You must have heard of him?
 
CAROL: No.
 
BAFFNER: (REALLY ASTONISHED) But he's been on TV and everything. He stops clocks, changes the print in books. 'I wandered lonely as a horse'! That was him. He's 73% more powerful than any one of the others. An amazing man. But to talk to - puh! He can drive a car that he's not even in, from miles away. We nearly killed ourselves when we kidnapped him: empty buses kept crashing into us all the way here! And when we got him here I thought he'd lost his mind completely. But now he's in the tank and he's doing very well.
 
CAROL: These tanks are full of water are they?
 
BAFFNER: Of course, dear, helps them concentrate. No physical sensations of any kind. This way!
 

 
SCENE 3 FAST CLIP-CLOP OF THEIR FOOTSTEPS ON LINOLEUM CORRIDOR. SWING DOORS ARE PUNCHED BY BAFFNER IN A HURRY.
 
BAFFNER: (CALLS BUSILY AS HE HURRIES INTO ROOM) Have we our man, Maxie?
 
MAXIE: Mr. Placketts is all tuned in and ready to go, sir. He's asleep in his bed in Yorkshire. I'm keeping him asleep until we're ready.
 
BAFFNER: Is Osbert Chinery on line?
 
MAXIE: He went off-line for 3 minutes an hour ago, but he's on line and focused in on Placketts' gland, sir.
 
BAFFNER: Excellent! Excellent! Maxie - this is Carol, an old flame!
 
MAXIE: Hiya!
 
BAFFNER: Would you like to turn the wheel, sweetie? And set our magnificent game in motion?
 
CAROL: I'm not sure.
 
BAFFNER: Oh, please, do! We're not hurting anyone. We're saving the world. Really! If everyone can become anyone else at any moment it'll be in everyone's interests to make the world hunky-dory for everyone, won't it, huh? (TEMPTING LIKE THE DEVIL) Go on, Carol, turn the wheel, you gorgeous old thing.
 
CAROL: (LAUGHS, HALF-AMUSED, HALF-CONFUSED) Oh, all right!
 
BAFFNER: Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
 
WE HEAR HER TURN THE WHEEL. WHIZZES, BUBBLES AND FIZZES. THE DISTANT SOUND OF PLACKETTS YELLING "Y'BUGGER!" AS IF PUSHED FROM A PLANE. HIS PARACHUTE OPENS, BUT HE CONTINUES DROPPING FAST. HE SEEMS TO BE IN A WELL.
 
MAXIE: (IN BACKGROUND) It's all systems go, sir. Everything on line! That's it! He's flying! He's going!
 
AN ALARM CLOCK GOES OFF, MUFFLED. THE SINGLE BARK OF A SMALL DOG. SUDDEN SILENCE.
 
MAXIE: He's there, Mr. Baffner, sir. You did it. He should be on your screen now.
 
BAFFNER: Well twiddled, Maxie.
 
CAROL: What's happened, exactly?
 
BAFFNER: (BUBBLING OVER, WITH AIRY CONCEIT) Oh, a doddle. I've sent the personality of a Yorkshire businessman into the head of the President of Russia.
 
CAROL: You are a wag!
 
BAFFNER: (A NEW NOTE OF AWESTRUCK SERIOUSNESS) It's not the contents of the brain that's sent, not even the mind as such - just an idea, a single complex idea, my dearest darling. Because that's all any of us are. What we think of as being ourself is only our own persistent idea of ourself.
 
CAROL: (UNSURE) This is all a joke, isn't it?
 
BAFFNER: (BUBBLING WITH TRIUMPH, CALLS TO MAXIE) She doesn't believe! Doesn't believe! (TO CAROL) See, the dots on the screen.
 
CAROL: On the little green map?
 
HER FINGERNAIL TAPS THE GLASS SCREEN.
 
BAFFNER: This dot here is Mr. Placketts, our guinea pig, picked from everyone on earth because his personality has a particular shape. A shape causing just the right displacement in the structure. You understand?
 
CAROL: No.
 
BAFFNER: Never you mind, then. I've taken one idea from HERE and put it HERE, like sending a letter, that's all. Here's Placketts and… here's the Russian President, Mr. Cherry-povets. He's in Yorkshire now… (GIGGLES, MORE GLEEFUL THAN EVER) This screen will be full of dots before too long! Placketts' personality is just the right SHAPE, you see… it will cause a chain reaction - you know, like with atomic bombs.
 
CAROL: (THINKING HARD) Yes. Yes, I think I see.
 
BAFFNER: (NOW MORE INTERESTED IN HIS EXPERIMENT THAN IN HER) We've got Placketts on audio only, I'm afraid. Can we have the volume up, Maxie?
 
MAXIE TURNS THE SOUND UP. WE HEAR SNORING.
 
BAFFNER: Be a good girl, sit down over there and listen, keep out of Daddy's way. (SHOUTS TRIUMPHANTLY) Wake up our pig, Maxie! I can't wait! Ha! Ha!
 

 
SCENE 4 THE RUSSIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM, BRASSY AND LOUD. PLACKETTS' SNORES PHUTTER OUT. HE FUMBLES ON THE BEDSIDE TABE AND SWITCHES OFF THE RADIO. WHEN PLACKETTS SPEAKS, IN WHATEVER LANGUAGE, HE ENUNCIATES EACH WORD AS IF SPEAKING TO A DEAF RELATIVE ABOUT AN IMPORTANT MATTER.
 
PLACKETTS: (UNSLEEPILY, IN BED) That Teasmade never did that before.
 
HE WAKES UP MAKING TASTING NOISES WITH HIS MOUTH. HE YAWNS. GETS OUT OF BED. SUDDENLY CALLS:
 
PLACKETTS: Hilda! Them poached eggs better be ready. I'm cummin down.
 
BAFFNER: (DOWN THE LINE, GIGGLING HARD) Wait till he switches on the light! Just wait!
 
THE LIGHT IS SWITCHED ON. THE CHANDELIER TINKLES SLIGHTLY.
 
PLACKETTS: Hey up! Eeee! What's all this, then? (HIS ANXIETY INCREASING SLOWLY) Cor, I've chewed me fingernails right down in the night. And I've gone strangely fat. What's happened? I must be retaining water. Where on God's Earth is this when it's at home? All chandeliers and busy pictures with the same baldy man in the middle. (CALMED WITH A NEW IDEA) I know! It's that private hospital in Huddersfield where me brother had his bowels scraped. (WORRIED AGAIN) I've had a stroke, that's it. I've gone funny. They always said I would.
 
DOUBLE DOORS OPEN. BORIS SMOLENSK COMES IN WITH THE BREAKFAST TRAY, HUMMING THE RUSSIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM.
 
PLACKETTS: Oh aye. And who are you when you're at home? Room service, is it?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: (PUTTING DOWN THE TRAY) Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: Da.
 
PLACKETTS: Da?
 
SMOLENSK: Da. Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Oh, aye.
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk. (STAMPS TO ATTENTION)
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: Da.
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk.
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Well, what about it?
 
SMOLENSK: Hum?
 
PLACKETTS: This Smolensk business.
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Aye, Smol… ensk.
 
SMOLENSK: Da.
 
PLACKETTS: Da?
 
SMOLENSK: (CHUCKLING, PLEASED) Da! Da! Smolensk! Smolensk!
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: (UNSURE AGAIN, GRIMLY) Da, Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: By gum, lad, you're tiring me out.
 
SMOLENSK: He is coming.
 
PLACKETTS: Who is?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Oh, I see.
 
SMOLENSK: The other Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: There's another one, is there? (AFTER A MOMENT, THE KINDLY TONE ONE USES WITH MAD RELATIVES) What you in here for? Are they letting you serve breakfast today as a treat?
 
SMOLENSK: I am Smolensk. He is Smolensk also. My older brother. He has your suit, all pressed and handsome.
 
PLACKETTS: (REAL) Oh, they're letting me out, are they?
 
SMOLENSK: You are addressing the Congress of People's Deputies this afternoon.
 
PLACKETTS: (HUMOURING HIM) I must be better then. (UNDER HIS BREATH) Bloody Nora.
 
SMOLENSK: Breakfast, please. Nice and warm.
 
PLACKETTS: Aye, aye, thanks, lad. But…erh… you don't happen to have a dressing-gown anywhere? I can't stuff me face bollock naked.
 
SMOLENSK FETCHES ONE. IT SLIPS ON SILKILY.
 
PLACKETTS: Very nice, lad, thank you. Now bugger off and put yer head in a cold bucket.
 
SMOLENSK: If you say so, sir, I shall, of course.
 
PLACKETTS: (SITTING DOWN TO BREAKFAST) I do say so, lad, I do. I'm Placketts, you know. THE Placketts.
 
SMOLENSK: Placketts?
 
PLACKETTS: Placketts!
 
SMOLENSK: Placketts!
 
PLACKETTS: You know, the department store. (SINGS HIS JINGLE)
Placketts of Proudfoot,
The biggest and the best store,
Placketts of Proudfoot,
We've got what you're looking for.
There's so much to see,
For the whole family,
Placketts of Proudfoot
- and the car park is free!!!
…Eh! Eh? Eh! You know us now, don't you?
 
SMOLENSK: You are Chairman of the Presidium of the Supreme Council of the Russian Union of Sovereign States.
 
PLACKETTS: You're daft, lad. Away and find that bucket.
 
SMOLENSK: (STAMPS HIS FEET IN AN OBEDIENT SALUTE. HE MARCHES OFF) Smolensk, he always obeys to the letter.
 
PLACKETTS: (CALLS HIM BACK) Lad! Lad! Just a mo! Come here. (SMOLENSK COMES) Closer, lad, closer. Look, this isn't easy for a man to say, but I thought I'd ask you before he comes…
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk?
 
PLACKETTS: Don't start that again. No, the Doctor. I don't like Doctors. You're mad, aren't you?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: (KINDLY) Of course. But I find it easier to talk to you. (WHISPERS, EMBARRASSED) You're a man, you'll understand what I mean when I say me 'thing'. It's five times the size it was last night. Some kind of free offer, is it?
 
SMOLENSK: Hum?
 
PLACKETTS: You have a stroke, they bring you in, fix you up and you go out with a bigger thing?
 
SMOLENSK: Oh, 'Thing'.
 
PLACKETTS: Aye, thing.
 
SMOLENSK: (WHISPERS) Sometimes in the night I dream of Polish girls running naked across the Pripyat Marches. Then my 'thing' also.
 
PLACKETTS: (VERY SUSPICIOUS) Oh, aye. And another thing. (WHISPERS AGAIN) Some daft bugger's poured sour milk all over me breakfast, and emptied two jars of rancid gherkins on it 'n all. Was it you?
 
SMOLENSK: (WHISPERS BACK) It is the way you like it, sir.
 
PLACKETTS: (WITH SINISTER KINDNESS) And do you like it too?
 
SMOLENSK: (GIGGLES, HAPPY) Smolensk, he likes it too.
 
PLACKETTS: (IN SUDDEN FURY) You bloody eat it then!!!!!
 
CRASHING OF BREAKFAST THINGS. THE SHLUPP OF HORRIBLE FOOD ON THE CARPET. FLYING GHERKINS TINKLE ON THE CHANDELIER. THE DROWNING NOISES OF SMOLENSK.
 
PLACKETTS: (EXULTANT) I've never been so strong! Not even when I was a lad! I can lift this daft bugger over me head! Ha! Ha!
 
SCREAMS FROM SMOLENSK. THEN HE IS THROWN AND CRASHES. A MOMENT'S SILENCE. SMOLENSK MAKES A LOW CHOKING SOUND AS HE COMES AROUND.
 
SMOLENSK's BROTHER: (HURRIEDLY APPROACHING US, ANXIOUS FOR BOTH STATE AND PERSONAL REASONS) What is happening please?
 
PLACKETTS: (STILL EXULTANT) I threw him right across the room, must be… ooooh… 15 feet easy. Who are you when you're at home?
 
SMOLENSK's BROTHER: Smolensk.
 
PLACKETTS: Go on, then! - You're a Doctor… he's choking on a gherkin. (PUSHES HIM ROUGHLY) Get your forceps down him, lad!
 
SMOLENSK's BROTHER: (ACROSS ROOM, ANXIOUS FOR HIS BROTHER) Smolensk! Smolensk! Smolensk!
 
PLACKETTS: (SUDDENLY ANGRY) I haven't forgot about me brother, you know: Jack! He came in here to get his bowels scraped and (TRAGIC) he never felt the sun on his face again!
 
A HORRIBLE COUGH FROM SMOLENSK. HE HAS COUGHED UP THE GHERKIN.
 
PLACKETTS: (PROUDLY SATISFIED) Told yer - gherkin.
 

 
SCENE 5 CHORUS SINGS PLACKETTS' STORE'S JINGLE AS ANNOYINGLY AS POSSIBLE:
 
CHORUS:
Placketts of Proudfoot!
The biggest and the best store!
Placketts of Proudfoot!
We've got what you're looking for!
There's so much to see
For the whole family
PLACKETTS OF PROUDFOOT
- and the car park is free!!!
 
WITH THIS STILL RINGING IN OUR EARS WE HEAR PLACKETTS MISERABLY COMPLAINING TO MADAME CHEREPOVETS. HE IS IN THE CHEREPOVETS' APARTMENT IN MOSCOW. MADAME CHEREPOVETS IS UNWRAPPING NEW DRESSES FROM THEIR BOXES AND TISSUE. IN ODD MOMENTS SHE BRIGHTLY HUMS PLACKETTS' JINGLE.
 
PLACKETTS: (GLUMLY) It were me grandfather Jack Placketts who started the business in 1917, after he came back gassed from the war. It wasn't where it is now. Oh, no… It were just a stall in them days. Ties, bootlaces - eggs 'n all! - Gran had these manky-lookin chickens in the back yard, yer see.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (CASTING A DRESS ON THE BED) What about this dress for this afternoon, Yevgeny?
 
PLACKETTS: (DISINTERESTED) Very nice, luv.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: You don't think the cutaway midriff is too bold for the Congress of People's Deputies?
 
PLACKETTS: But it were me old Dad who really built the business up. Of course, it were easy in them days. Brass was lying on the ground just to be picked up. (BITTERLY) Just to be picked up! He died a millionaire, me Dad. But when me and Big Jack took over by ourselves, things got hard, and then Jack died having his bowels scraped and it's all I can do to keep me head above dirty water. So you see I'm not the President of Russia at all. I'm PLACKETTS. (STARTS TO SLOWLY AND SADLY SING HIS JINGLE BUT IS INTERRUPTED)
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (CASTING OUT ANOTHER DRESS) What about THIS one? I'll still be showing lots of bosom.
 
PLACKETTS: (GETTING UP, A SHOPKEEPING INTEREST IS AROUSED) How much did you pay for this, pet?
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: 20 thousand roubles.
 
PLACKETTS: Oughhh! Yer should've said. We've got a sale on in our French Salon next month. Mrs. Oxenthorpe could've helped you pick one out - she's a big woman 'n all. (SADLY, MISSING HER) Our Hilda's just like a bird, you know.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (CONCERNED) Yevgeny?
 
PLACKETTS: Uh?
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: What is all this nonsense you are talking?
 
PLACKETTS: Just prattlin, lass. Just prattlin.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: Look at me in the eyes. (SLAPS AND PULLS HIS CHEEKS TO GET HIM IN POSITION)
 
PLACKETTS: (HIS VOICE MADE PECULIAR BY HER GRIP) Owya! Watch out for that growth on the end of me nose!
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: You don't have a growth on the end of your nose.
 
PLACKETTS: (STILL PECULIAR) Must have dropped off. (SADLY) I've had that for 40 years.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: You have a funny look in your eyes. You're not yourself. You haven't been taking any of those pills General Bibcoff takes? It's ruining him, you know. OF COURSE! You're worried about your speech this afternoon! Is that all it is? (SHE SLAPS HIS CHEEK AFFECTIONATELY AND LETS HIM GO) Poor, poor darlink!
 
PLACKETTS: (COMPLAINS TO HIMSELF) Ooo, I feel like I've shaved with a blunt razor.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: Would you like to make love before we go? There's a whole hour before the car comes.
 
PLACKETTS: (STIFFLY) No thank you, Madam.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (SLIPPING OUT OF HER CLOTHES) Go on, my big bear, you know it always loosens you up before you make a long boring speech. It intimidates them. They can see the glow on you. You can always tell when someone has just made love.
 
PLACKETTS: It wouldn't be right.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: What could be more right than a man making love to his own wife?
 
PLACKETTS: (ALOUD TO HIMSELF) I know what it is. The Bank came into me office, snatched the accounts and pulled the plug on me. I've retreated into some sort of high-powered dream world, full of lewd women and chandeliers.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: Yevgeny! Take your clothes off!
 
PLACKETTS: (MISERABLY RESIGNED) If you say so, luv. (HE BEGINS UNDRESSING)
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: What are you going to say in your speech this afternoon, anyway? I overheard someone saying that it's the most important speech in History and that if you don't say exactly the right thing then the whole political edifice will fall to bits by the weekend.
 
PLACKETTS: Speech? I'm not making no bloody speech.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (KISSING HIM) Oh, but you must. If our little regime falls to bits by the weekend then we'll miss the summit in Vienna next week… and I'll have nowhere to wear all my lovely new dresses. (BABYTALKS HIM) Speechy… speechy-speechy… what clever things is Larissa's big strong bear going to tell all the grumpy old men…ummmmmmm?
 
PLACKETTS: I suppose I could give them that speech I gave at last month's Rotary Club dinner. It went down very well. (MADAME CHEREPOVETS IS UP TO HER TRICKS, THE BEDSPRING SPRINGS) Oooooh! Yer bugs! (PROTESTS) I had a mistress in Ripon once, you know.
 

 
SCENE 6 THE HUGE HUM OF THE CONGRESS OF PEOPLE'S DEPUTIES, EXCITEDLY AWAITING THE PRESIDENT'S SPEECH. GENERAL BIBCOFF ARRIVING IN HIS SEAT, A TINKLE OF HIS MEDALS.
 
MELNIKOV: General Bibcoff! Wherever have you been? He'll be on his feet any second. How can you reply if you haven't heard what he's said!!!
 
BIBCOFF: (A DEEP, INSANE VOICE) I was in the toilet. (GRUNTS AND GROANS)
 
MELNIKOV: He is looking very confident. I think he has been poking his wife all morning. They say he does before a long speech. There she is, look, in that low cut dress.
 
BIBCOFF: Where?
 
MELNIKOV: There, look, the big white bosoms.
 
BIBCOFF: Excuse me, but it's these pills I've been taking. Everyone seems to have large white bosoms.
 
MELNIKOV: Shhh - he's on his feet.
 
THE HUM OF THE HUGE AUDITORIUM DIES DOWN A LONG WAY. WE HEAR PLACKETTS' TEDIOUS SPEECH FROM THE AUDIENCE.
 
PLACKETTS: (TAPPING HIS MICROPHONE) Testing… testing… testing… Can you hear me at the back? Erm, I hope you'll understand all this, because I don't speak a word of Russian even though I'm speaking it. I know, confusing, isn't it? But people were even more confused in 1917 when they came upon me Grandad's stall in Proudfoot Marketplace and saw the ties, the bootlaces, and the eggs. Humble beginnings, I do not deny, but the presence of them eggs was in fact a Revolution in the retail trade…the department store was born…
 
MELNIKOV: (A RASPING WHISPER, OVER PLACKETTS' SPEECH) What is he talking about?
 
BIBCOFF: It must be a metaphor. The Revolution of 1917. Eggs. I don't know what it means. Ask down the line. I must find out what it means!
 
AS PLACKETTS' TEDIOUS SPEECH CONTINUES, WE HEAR THE LINE OF DEPUTIES ASKING EACH OTHER WHAT IT MEANS…
 
PLACKETTS: (UNDER THE DEPUTIES ASKING)… But of course today, as I'm sure you'll agree, brass isn't found just lying about to be picked up… or we'd all be out there this minute filling our pockets. No, today, it's hard graft for every penny you pay back to the Bank. Nor is a shopkeeper a leader of fashion, no not even a shopkeeper like myself, Placketts of Proudfoot, is a leader of fashion. Even I, ladies and gentlemen, can only follow. Let me give you the example of our tripe counter… (CONTINUES UNDER THE NEXT EXCHANGE)
 
MELNIKOV: (WHISPERS) Balaiev thinks he means that we're all going to be arrested.
 
BIBCOFF: Arrested!
 
DEPUTY IN BACKGROUND: I want my mammy!
 
OTHER DEPUTIES: (IN PANIC) Arrested! A coup! Whose coup! Bibcoff's? Balaiev's? Arrested? Who me!
 
BIBCOFF: SHHHHHHHHHH!
 
PLACKETTS: …For 50 years we had the same man, Billy Purvis his name was, you'll all know him, on the tripe counter. But then one day I looked at the books and I compared them with 10 years since, and I said: "Oooooh, he's got to go!". People don't eat tripe like wot they did. It's all pizza bits and garlic bread these days. And I can recommend our garlic bread. 79 pence a throw and very good for the bowels. If our Jack had eaten one at every meal you'd be listening to him now and not me. So I let Billy Purvis go…
 
BIBCOFF: (WITH PLACKETTS SPEECHIFYING IN THE BACKGROUND) Balaiev is right… he is wanting to do away with the old men. That's you, Melnikov.
 
MELNIKOV: I am younger than you by 27 years, General Bibcoff.
 
BIBCOFF: (GRUFFLY INSISTENT) It's a misprint in the directory - I am only 36.
 
MELNIKOV: (ALMOST COQUETTISH) General Bibcoff?
 
BIBCOFF: Uh?
 
MELNIKOV: Do I have large white bosoms, also?
 
BIBCOFF: (A LONG, LOW, LECHEROUS GRUNT)
 
(AGITATED WHISPERING)
 
MELNIKOV: Balaiev says that the country will fall apart by the end of the week and wants to know when you are going to make your move… (TICKLISHLY OUTRAGED) General Bibcoff! General Bibcoff!
 
PLACKETTS: (SPEECHIFYING) …And a man should positively never wear the same suit two days running. You sir, yes you sir, and you there, and the gentleman rubbing his friend's chest…
 
(A GRUNT FROM BIBCOFF)
 
PLACKETTS: May I offer you a free fitting in our Outsize Department. Our Mr. Swincliffe will see you right. Because: (SINGS HORRIBLY)
Placketts of Proudfoot!
The biggest and the best store!
Placketts of Proudfoot!
We've got what you're looking for!
There's so much to see!
For the whole family!
Placketts of Proudfoot!
- and the car park is free…
 
AS PLACKETTS SINGS, A SOUND LIKE CYMBALS JUST-AFTER-THEY'VE-HIT-EACH-OTHER COVERS HIS VOICE. MONEY RATTLES IN POCKETS. A SLAP OF TRIPE ON MARBLE.
 
BILLY PURVIS: (FROM ELSEWHERE, BROADEST YORKSHIRE EVER) But I've worked that tripe counter for 47 year, Mr. Placketts.
 
DEPUTY BALAIEV: Make your move, General Bibcoff! General Bibcoff!
 
BIBCOFF: I will make my move! I will! Take all these bosoms away and I'll make my move.
 
PLACKETTS: (SORROWFULLY, CLOSE, ASIDE BUT ECHOING SLIGHTLY IN HIS MIKE) By, but I feel queer. I had this same feeling once before. I was in Doncaster, when I felt suddenly light on me feet. I felt that I could be anybody, go anywhere, do anything. It only lasted a minute but I never forgot it. It were shortly before me Dad died. I can't remember why I was in Doncaster.
 

 
SCENE 7 WHOOPS AND OOOOPS OF MACHINES. WE ARE BACK IN THE INSTITUTE.
 
CAROL: This is cruel.
 
BAFFNER: (CHUCKLESOME) No it's not. It's hilarious!
 
CAROL: The poor man. Send him back into his own head, Graeme. You must!
 
BAFFNER: No, no - listen to what he's been saying. He's alive, liberated.
 
CAROL: He sounds terribly upset to me.
 
BAFFNER: (FAST AND FERVENT) I've given him the greatest freedom a man could ask for. The final and greatest freedom - I have! I've done it! I've given him the freedom not to be himself. Carol, my darling one, however perfect the world is made, we are still ourselves, stuck with the limitation of being in a single limited body… a body that can experience not even a billionth of what life has to offer - a body that dies, Carol. Our friend Placketts need never die. Never. All I have to do is press this button and he'll pop out of the head he's in and into another one. Can't you see what a wonderful thing I've done for him? He can be his real self now. No more money worries. No more of the habits that have numbed his mind. The tiny little thing that is Placketts now has access to all the skills, feelings and perceptions of the host body I have sent him to. If I send him into a great violinist he will find, if he tries, that he is able to play the violin, and will still, I think, be able to play it in the next body he visits. He can begin life afresh every day. All I've got to do is press the button. Oh, Carol, I'm so happy for him, for all of us. Soon we shall all be flying, flying into each other's hearts!
 
CAROL: (COLDLY) Press your button. Send him somewhere else. Not somewhere important and dangerous. Somewhere little and safe.
 
BAFFNER: No sooner said…
 
A SICKLY SOUND LIKE A CAR NOT STARTING. AND AGAIN, TWICE MORE!
 
BAFFNER: (NOT WORRIED YET) Maxie! What is it, Maxie! I'm getting no response.
 
SIMILAR FAILED BUTTON SOUNDS FROM THE BACKGROUND.
 
MAXIE: I'm trying too. I'm getting nothing. Must be in the tanks. (IN SUDDEN HIGH FRIGHT) It's Osbert Chinery, sir. He's gone!
 
BAFFNER: But he's all hooked up and everything. Nobody could…
 
MAXIE: Not his body. His mind. It's broken free of our control.
 
CAROL: Is something wrong?
 
BAFFNER: (IN FURIOUS PANIC) Find it! Put out a trace!
 
MAXIE: No sooner said… (WE HEAR HIM PRESSING THINGS IN THE BACKGROUND)
 
BAFFNER: Momentary hitch, dear. (ATTEMPTING HIS FORMER LIGHTNESS OF MANNER AND JUST ABOUT SUCCEEDING) Would you like to go down to the cafeteria and have a bit of cake? Maxie can wizard on here by himself.
 
MAXIE: I think he's in the South of France. I'm getting a high read from there.
 
BAFFNER: (SCREAMS) FIND HIM!!! FIND ME OSBERT CHINERY!!! FIND HIM!!! (CALM AS EVER, ON HIS WAY) They do an awfully nice meringue. It has a raspberry deep inside. Sometimes you can see right through the meringue to where the raspberry is, so you can save it till last. Scrummy!
 
CAROL: (ON THEIR WAY) But Mr. Placketts has just destroyed Russian politics. Shouldn't we tell someone?
 
BAFFNER: (WALKING TOWARDS THE SWING DOORS) The world is on the brink of the greatest happiness it has ever known… (THE FLIP-FLAP OF THE SWING DOORS) …and I did it! I did! Me!
 
SCENE 8 VIENNA: AN OFFICIAL DINNER. A STRAUSS WALTZ PLAYS SWEETLY. HUM OF INTERNATIONAL DINERS. SMOLENSK IS EXPLAINING HIS NAME TO THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT IN THE BACKGROUND:
 
PRESIDENT RINALDI: Smolensk?
 
SMOLENSK: Smolensk.
 
PRESIDENT RINALDI: Smolensk.
 
(THEN CLOSE:)
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: Well, even if the country has fallen apart, at least we got to Vienna.
 
PLACKETTS: (SADLY) Hilda would love this.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: And everyone has said wonderful things about my dress.
 
PLACKETTS: Very luscious, pet. Ah, grub's up!
 
AUSTRIAN WAITER: Your consommé, Mr. President.
 
PLACKETTS: Hurry up, lad, I'm starved.
 
AUSTRIAN WAITER: Guten appetite!
 
PLACKETTS: (CALLING HIM BACK) Hoi! Come here you! There's a face in my soup! Where's he gone? (SHOUTS) Hoi! (SNIFFING OVER MME. CHEREPOVETS) There's not one in yours.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: What?
 
PLACKETTS: A ruddy great blinking face in me blinking soup!
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: Stir the soup. It'll go away.
 
PLACKETTS: And me spoon's all bent! (SOUND OF EFFORT AS HE BENDS IT BACK) That's better - right, you! (HE SPLASHES HIS SOUP WITH HIS SPOON) It's still there. (CALLS, SARCASTICALLY) My compliments to the chef - very clever. (INSPIRED) Hey - we could do a good line in this at the store. The Queen's face. Footballers.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: (A SPLASH ACCOMPANYING HIS WORDS OF WARNING) Do not be alarmed, Mr. Placketts. This is Osbert Chinery speaking to you.
 
PLACKETTS: Are you that nit that bends spoons on the telly?
 
OSBERT CHINERY: My apologies for interrupting your meal by appearing in your soup like this. But it will be perfectly safe to consume it when I'm gone.
 
PLACKETTS: Thanks for nowt.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: I am currently occupying the body of a 12-year-old French girl from Bayonne by the name of Paulette Poperen.
 
PLACKETTS: You bastard! You're the one that's done this to me! Eh! EH? Well you can just send us back into meself… Right now! Go on!
 
OSBERT CHINERY: I do bear some of the responsibility, Mr. Placketts, and I most humbly apologise. But it is the O'Jonesburg Institute who have done this to you.
 
PLACKETTS: He's a hard man my solicitor! He'll bloody give you yer head in yer hands and yer brains to play with.
 
MME. CHEREPOVETS: (IRRITATED) Darlink, you are talking to your soup!
 
PLACKETTS: Aye, and it backanswers, 'n all!
 
OSBERT CHINERY: If you wish to be restored to your former self…
 
PLACKETTS: (FERVENT) Aye, I do. (SOFTLY, NOT SO SURE) I do.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: Then you must hurry to England at once. Slip away, now, tonight.
 
PLACKETTS: But General-bleeding-Bibcoff's made his move and I'm playing horseshoes with the American President tomorrow morning.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: (EARNEST) For the sake of everyone in the world, Mr. Placketts, leave now and make your way to England.
 
PLACKETTS: But I've got no passport nor nowt.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: Get to Calais somehow - the Lord will provide - and I'll meet you there.
 
PLACKETTS: How'll I recognise you?
 
OSBERT CHINERY: (LOSING PATIENCE) I'll be a 12-year-old French girl.
 
PLACKETTS: Aye, aye, alright lass.
 
OSBERT CHINERY: We'll take the ferry and go straight to the O'Jonesburg Institute. Our very presence there will blow their experiment to bits.
 
PLACKETTS: If you say so.
 
AUSTRIAN WAITER: (COMING UP WITH A HEEL-CLICK) Is the soup to your Excellency's satisfaction?
 
PLACKETTS: Eh? Oh! (A SLURP OF SOUP) Mustn't grumble.
 
PRESIDENT RINALDI: (NEARBY, COMPLAINS) Godammit, my spoon's gone and bent! Hey!
 

 
SCENE 9 THE RINGSTRASSE, VIENNA. TRAFFIC RUSHING PAST. ANGRY PEEP OF HORNS AS PLACKETTS NEARLY GETS HIMSELF RUN OVER. IN DISTANCE, SOUND OF REVELLERS. THEY RUN PAST A DOORWAY FROM WHICH DRIFTS THE SOUND OF ZITHER MUSIC.
 
PLACKETTS IS RUNNING FAST THROUGH THE STREETS, PURSUED BY KGB, CIA, AND BIBCOFF'S MEN: THEY SHOUT "STOP!" "STOP!" "MR. PRESIDENT!" "COMRADE CHEREPOVETS!" "STOP!".
 
BIBCOFF AGENT: Wherever you run, General Bibcoff will find you! He will find you!
 
ACOUSTIC OF CHASE CHANGES: THEY ARE RUNNING UP AN ALLEYWAY, CLIP-CLOP OF 'THIRD MAN' TYPE FOOTSTEPS.
 
PLACKETTS: (BETWEEN WHEEZES) Bloody Nora! What a palaver! Running round the back streets of Vienna at my age!
 
ACOUSTIC CHANGES AGAIN: THEY ARE OUT OF THE ALLEYWAY. PLACKETTS IS WHEEZING HIS JINGLE NERVOUSLY AS HE RUNS. SUDDENLY HE CRIES OUT, HAVING BUMPED INTO SAMUEL CRUTTENDON, FROM WHOM THERE IS AN AMAZED "OOF!". THEY ROLL OVER IN A HEAP.
 
CRUTTENDON: (A COCKNEY SPARROW) Here! What's your game?
 
PLACKETTS: (EXHAUSTED) I slipped away. They're after me!
 
CRUTTENDON: The law?
 
PLACKETTS: Yes. No. I don't know. Bibcoff's men.
 
CRUTTENDON: In here. Quick.
 
THEIR HURRIED SLIPPERY SCUFFLING EFFORT AT GETTING UP. THE SOUND OF BINS BEING KICKED OVER.
 

 
SCENE 10 A HUSH. WE ARE INSIDE THE STEFANSDOM. FROM INSIDE WE HEAR PLACKETTS' PURSUERS RUN PAST OUTSIDE.
 
PLACKETTS: Oooh, thanks, lad. You've saved me bacon.
 

 
SCENE 11 A HEAVY DOOR CREAKS OPEN. ECHOEY.
 
PLACKETTS: (INSTINCTIVELY WHISPERING) Where's this when it's at home?
 
CRUTTENDON: Inside of Saint Stephen's Cathedral. This way. Down these steps into the catacombs, then up some more behind the altar and we're back in the land of the living.
 
PLACKETTS: Yer bugger! All these skellingtons is bringing up me soup!
 
CRUTTENDON: What they after yer for, stealing spoons?
 
PLACKETTS: Spoons?
 
CRUTTENDON: With my little eye I noticed you had one clutched in your mitt.
 
PLACKETTS: Oh aye - I had it in me hand when I slipped away and I forgot to drop it. (HE DROPS IT. IT PLINKS AND ECHOES ON THE COLD STONE)
 
CRUTTENDON: Shhhhh!
 
PLACKETTS: Sorry, lad!
 
A DISTANT HUM OF A CONFESSION MADE INTO A MUMBLE BY A MUFFLE OF STONE.
 
CRUTTENDON: We're right behind the confessionals here. Sometimes I sits and listens. Especially when there's a priest doing another priest. You've no idea what goes on! Nobody's quite what they seem, is they? What part of Russia you from?
 
PLACKETTS: Yorkshire.
 
CRUTTENDON: Your Russian's very good. I learned mine in clink over there. Four years in a madhouse outside Kiev. I'm not mad though. (HIS GIGGLE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE) Just rotten through and through. I'm a Londoner - Sammy Cruttendon's what I usually call myself, to fellow crooks like yourself.
 
PLACKETTS: I'm a respectable businessman!
 
CRUTTENDON: Got any dosh on yer?
 
PLACKETTS: (HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS) Aye, a bit, why?
 
CRUTTENDON: No roubles, mind?
 
PLACKETTS: I've got Austrian stuff. Got it for the wife's shopping - his wife, I mean.
 
CRUTTENDON: Well, I've got to be recompensed, haven't I? I mean, I was waiting for a customer. Two new passports, all crisp and new. Maybe he won't come back. That's 30 thousand schillings I'm down.
 
PLACKETTS: I'm sorry, lad - I know what it's like to lose business. We had 12 thousand quid's worth of three-piece-suites fire-damaged and the insurance company wouldn't pay up. I still have a quiet cry about that sometimes. Haad on - passports! One of them wouldn't do me, would it?
 
CRUTTENDON: Yeah, plenty more in me bag. You can be who yer likes. Cost yer, mind. (THE CONFESSIONAL MUMBLE ANOVE THEM STOPS) We can go up now. If anyone stops yer, pretend you're a ghost. Go like this - oooooooo! (GIGGLES)
 
PLACKETTS: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Barmy-looking sod.
 

 
SCENE 12 THE O'JONESBURG INSTITUTE. THE QUIET WHIR OF MACHINES. THE PLONKING OF THE TANKS.
 
BAFFNER: (CALLS, INCREASINGLY ANGRY) Maxie! Maxie! Maxie!
 
MAXIE: (WAKING UP WITH A START) Um? Sorry, Mr. Baffner, sir. I must have dropped off.
 
BAFFNER: (DEEPLY, DEEPLY DEPRESSED) Where is he? Where's Placketts?
 
MAXIE: (RUBBING HIS EYES AND WAKING UP PROPERLY, SETS THE MACHINE'S TRACE PEEP-PEEPING) Last time I saw him he was on the night-train from Zurich to Paris. (A BRIEF WHEEEE FROM THE MACHINE AND WE ARE TUNED IN TO THE SOUND OF THE TRAIN) He's still with that Cruttendon character he picked up in Vienna…
 
BAFFNER: And Osbert Chinery?
 
MAXIE: On a bicycle between Paris and Amiens, on his way to Calais. They'll all be here by lunchtime tomorrow, sir.
 
BAFFNER: Lunchtime tomorrow?
 
MAXIE: Yes, sir.
 
BAFFNER: Any more dots on the screen?
 
MAXIE: (TRYING TO SOUND ENCOURAGING) Yes, yes, sir. Nearly a hundred.
 
BAFFNER: Too slow. It's too slow.
 
MAXIE: I put the print-outs on your desk, sir. It is working. Lots more are flying, every minute more and more.
 
BAFFNER: It's still too slow, Maxie. If Chinery gets within a few miles of us he'll screw this machinery up for good, you know what he's capable of.
 
MAXIE: Yes, sir.
 
BAFFNER: And if he gets Placketts back into his own body, then the chain reaction is halted too. The forces of darkness are gathering around us, Maxie.
 
MAXIE: (NERVOUSLY SUGGESTS) Sir, I couldn't go early could I? Now, I mean.
 
BAFFNER: Wait till the last minute, Maxie, there's a sweetiepie. Where are you going, anyway?
 
MAXIE: (EMBARRASSED AND CHEERFUL) I'm going to be a fashion-model in America, sir. I've got her all picked out and ready. A real smasher, sir. (SHY) I always felt I was a woman trapped in a man's body.
 
BAFFNER: (A GOD-LIKE UNDERSTANDING) I'm sure you'll be far happier all round, Maxie. (SUDDENLY ALERT WITH A BRAINWAVE) I've an idea! It'll do it! We can fix Brother Chinery! Ha! Ha!
 

 
SCENE 13 CAROL SPEAKS SUDDEN AND SWIFT:
 
CAROL: I had the most godawful row with Derek when he found out I'd been up at the Institute seeing Graeme Baffner all week. "He's the cleverest man in the world," I said. "And I suppose I'm stupid," he said. "Yes!" I said. "If he's so clever why would he want anything to do with you? Look at you!" "He loves me!" I said. "He's always loved me!" Derek started smashing-up his ashtray collection, so I slammed the door on him and went straight to Liverpool Street. I met a strange woman on the train who said she shouldn't be here and that usually she was much taller. I had to walk across the fields towards the Institute. It was all silver and shiny. The sun was in its windows a thousand times. The man at the gate was reading the last page of a book.
I found Graeme in a little wooden gazebo surrounded by nettles, right next to the electric fence.
 

 
SCENE 14
 
CAROL: Oooh! Oooh!
 
BAFFNER: Carol?