A recent exchange of emails with Amazons in regard to a most distressing orange sticker

MY SECOND EMAIL

12/20/11 17:08:56
Your name:Tom Mitchell
Order No: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Other info:Worrying packaging
Selected Order Items:
V & A Museum William Morris Daisy Cream Set of 2 Mugs
Comments:

Amazon,

If you remember, I emailed yesterday in regards to a bright orange sticker marked 'DO NOT OPEN'. I was asking why I wasn't allowed to open the box, which, as outlined above, I think contains some nice mugs for my mum.

Ironically, you weren't able to open the link to an image of the sticker. Here it is again and I can confirm it works: pic.twitter.com/6IjLDIuW

I want to know if I can ignore the bright orange sticker & open the box. I'd also like your assurance that nothing calamitous will befall me.

If it box does safely contain my mum's mugs, I really need to get them wrapped before she arrives. Mum's not the kind of woman to appreciate unwrapped presents or bright orange warning stickers.

Many thanks,

Tom Mitchell


THEIR RESPONSE

Hello Tom,

Thank you for writing back to Amazon.co.uk.

I understand your concern regarding the sticker attached to the item "  V & A Museum William Morris Daisy Cream Set of 2 Mugs" stating 'DO NOT OPEN'.

Your order #xxxxxxxxxxxxxx for this item, was sold by 'InStyle Products Limited'. This item was labelled ‘Fulfilled by Amazon’. Items labelled ‘Fulfilled by Amazon’ are sent to you directly from an Amazon.co.uk Fulfillment Centre.

Please note that the Orange sticker should have been attached to the packaging to instruct the carrier (not to open the parcel until delivery) regarding the safe delivery of this item.

In this case, I kindly request you to open the parcel and check the contents of it.

If you discover that the item is damaged or any kind of issue, please let us know by replying to this e-mail and we'll do everything we can to help.

If you prefer to call us, we’re available Monday to Saturday 07:00-21:00 and Sunday 10:00-19:00, local UK time. Freephone (within the UK):
0800 496 1081

International customers can reach us at +44 (0) 207 084 7911.

I hope that you find this information helpful.

Thank you for your patience and understanding, and for shopping at Amazon.co.uk.

Warmest regards,

Srinivasan R.

Amazon.co.uk

Your feedback is helping us build Earth's Most Customer-Centric Company.

FAO INTERNATIONAL POETRY MAGAZINES

I propose the following column:

Poetry based on the 'random article' feature of Wikipedia. For each column, I shall write verse inspired by THE VERY FIRST article presented by Wikipedia. I shall undertake never to load 'random articles' until a favourable one appears.

The next three column subjects are as follow:

a) Democratic Party of Pensioners of Slovenia (how I wish this had been the first selection);
b) Bituing Marikit (a Philippine movie);
c) Friends (the Led Zeppelin song).


Thanks for the opportunity,

Kay Richardson


Shell Builtin
(Mr Computer, if you spot a ‘syntax error’: it’s poetry)

Shell Builtin, you possess a word unheard
(that's Builtin, friend, not shell).
Your most interesting feature and really
of all the Wiki entries, why ‘OS stubs’?
I’ve read your entry twice and still moved to query
Quite what the command term ‘bash-builtin’ does.

I read a widely-used shell builtin is ‘logout’
And briefly your electronic life is seen
(in the belly of my Dell).
You are the doorman of the computer system:
And I imagine you summoned by virtual bell.

You’re described as ‘simple and trivial’ but that doesn’t mean
I don’t warm to you, Shell Builtin.
I once had a girl of simple and trivial chat
But with a body as lithe as a teenage boy's.
Shell Builtin, if only I were teenage too
And then
(command or a function called from a shell)
I may have heard of you.

Kebabs

Mate, it’s got to be a donner. Donner with chips. 

Extra chilli – I’m fucking mad for spice, fucking love it, even though it stains like fuck. 

Where's it from? South America? You buy your chillies from Chile, do you? 

Don't worry about me, I'm like that McIntyre bastard.

A funny fuck. 

He's got a roadshow like Radio 1, fucking Kylie Minogue.

I bet she doesn't like kebabs. You get her in here often, do you?

Salad? You're asking if want salad? You having a laugh? Do I look like I eat salad? 

Don’t answer that, bruv, don’t take the piss.

Ass

"OMG," said Doctor Scott.

"I literally LMFAO," said Kay.

Kay was admitted to St Mary's hospital. There, a lovely nurse fitted him a new ass but warned that he would no longer be able to bathe or use a hottub. And his TV reception might be affected but that hardly ever happened.

When Kay got home, he stood at his computer and unfollowed all those who might ever tweet funny content but especially @tommycm.

What next?

Extract

There follows an extract from something I'm trying to write  -

I should have said – I wasn’t wearing any trousers. And there was blood, a CRIMSON POOL and dark and dried about my left knee like I was a bastard soldier. No trousers. Just boxer shorts. Feet covered in plastic bags. My friend in the telephone box. And waiting for Dad. An unsual Sunday morning. That’s the set up.

If you passed in your Ford Mondeo, you wouldn't see much to my face. It was blank and it was blank because I was tired and disappointed and fed up with Dave and I knew that accompanying Dad in the inevitable Volvo was an almighty bollocking.

Night-time Lard

Night-time Lard

Dear Lard, square white of melting delight,

Ignored sister of whorish butter,

I spread you on my frying pan at night.

Your naughty sizzle, your cheeky splutter.

Know I sizzle too, my Lard, for in the gloom,

I know you’re melting for others’ sake.

The childish bacon, sausage and mushroom,

How I envy their swimming in your wake,

You hold them fully and you make them whole.

Your love is not exclusive, yes, I know,

For I mouthed you once raw in a bowl.

And soon threw you up in the sink, although

I was both sick with love and sick with lard

And my breakfast heart’s forever scarred.

My new project

Hi, gang!

I've decided to write a play. There follows my amateurish effort at a first scene. I'd love to hear your reactions to it. Be ruthless in your criticism! The play's title is 'King @Tommycm', with which I'm very happy.

Thanks.

SCENE I. King @tommycm's palace.

Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND

KENT

I thought the king had more affected the Duke of

Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER

It did always seem so to us: but now, in the

division of the kingdom, it appears not which of

the dukes he values most; for equalities are so

weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice

of either's moiety.

KENT

Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have

so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am

brazed to it.

KENT

I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER

Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon

she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son

for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.

Do you smell a fault?

KENT

I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it

being so proper.

GLOUCESTER

But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year

elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:

though this knave came something saucily into the

world before he was sent for, yet was his mother

fair; there was good sport at his making, and the

whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this

noble gentleman, Edmund?

EDMUND

No, my lord.

GLOUCESTER

My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my

honourable friend.

EDMUND

My services to your lordship.

KENT

I must love you, and sue to know you better.

EDMUND

Sir, I shall study deserving.

GLOUCESTER

He hath been out nine years, and away he shall

again. The king is coming.

Enter KING @TOMMYCM, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants

KING @TOMMYCM

Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER

I shall, my liege.

Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND

KING @TOMMYCM

Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.

Give me the map there. Know that we have divided

In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent

To shake all cares and business from our age;

Conferring them on younger strengths, while we

Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,

And you, our no less loving son of Albany,

We have this hour a constant will to publish

Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife

May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,

Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,

Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,

And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,--

Since now we will divest us both of rule,

Interest of territory, cares of state,--

Which of you shall we say doth love us most?

That we our largest bounty may extend

Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,

Our eldest-born, speak first.

GONERIL

Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;

Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;

Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;

No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;

As much as child e'er loved, or father found;

A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;

Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

CORDELIA

[Aside] What shall Cordelia do?

Love, and be silent.

@TOMMYCM

Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,

With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,

With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,

We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue

Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,

Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

REGAN

Sir, I am made

Of the self-same metal that my sister is,

And prize me at her worth. In my true heart

I find she names my very deed of love;

Only she comes too short: that I profess

Myself an enemy to all other joys,

Which the most precious square of sense possesses;

And find I am alone felicitate

In your dear highness' love.

CORDELIA

[Aside] Then poor Cordelia!

And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's

More richer than my tongue.

KING @TOMMYCM

To thee and thine hereditary ever

Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;

No less in space, validity, and pleasure,

Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,

Although the last, not least; to whose young love

The vines of France and milk of Burgundy

Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw

A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

CORDELIA

Nothing, my lord.

KING @TOMMYCM

Nothing!

CORDELIA

Nothing.

KING @TOMMYCM

Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.

CORDELIA

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave

My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty

According to my bond; nor more nor less.

KING @TOMMYCM

How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,

Lest it may mar your fortunes.

CORDELIA

Good my lord,

You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I

Return those duties back as are right fit,

Obey you, love you, and most honour you.

Why have my sisters husbands, if they say

They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,

That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry

Half my love with him, half my care and duty:

Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,

To love my father all.

KING @TOMMYCM

But goes thy heart with this?

CORDELIA

Ay, good my lord.

KING @TOMMYCM

So young, and so untender?

CORDELIA

So young, my lord, and true.

KING @TOMMYCM

Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower:

For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,

The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;

By all the operation of the orbs

From whom we do exist, and cease to be;

Here I disclaim all my paternal care,

Propinquity and property of blood,

And as a stranger to my heart and me

Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,

Or he that makes his generation messes

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom

Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,

As thou my sometime daughter.

KENT

Good my liege,--

KING @TOMMYCM

Peace, Kent!

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.

I loved her most, and thought to set my rest

On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!

So be my grave my peace, as here I give

Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs?

Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,

With my two daughters' dowers digest this third:

Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.

I do invest you jointly with my power,

Pre-eminence, and all the large effects

That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,

With reservation of an hundred knights,

By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode

Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain

The name, and all the additions to a king;

The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,

Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,

This coronet part betwixt you.

Giving the crown

 KENT

Royal @tommycm,

Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,

Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,

As my great patron thought on in my prayers,--

KING @TOMMYCM

The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.

KENT

Let it fall rather, though the fork invade

The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,

When @tommycm is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?

Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,

When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,

When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;

And, in thy best consideration, cheque

This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,

Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;

Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound

Reverbs no hollowness.

KING @TOMMYCM

Kent, on thy life, no more.

KENT

My life I never held but as a pawn

To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,

Thy safety being the motive.

KING @TOMMYCM

Out of my sight!

KENT

See better, @tommycm; and let me still remain

The true blank of thine eye.

KING @TOMMYCM

Now, by Apollo,--

KENT

Now, by Apollo, king,

Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

KING @TOMMYCM

O, vassal! miscreant!

Laying his hand on his sword

 ALBANY CORNWALL

Dear sir, forbear.

KENT

Do:

Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow

Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;

Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,

I'll tell thee thou dost evil.

KING @TOMMYCM

Hear me, recreant!

On thine allegiance, hear me!

Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,

Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride

To come between our sentence and our power,

Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,

Our potency made good, take thy reward.

Five days we do allot thee, for provision

To shield thee from diseases of the world;

And on the sixth to turn thy hated back

Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,

Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,

The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter,

This shall not be revoked.

KENT

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,

Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

To CORDELIA

The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,

That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!

To REGAN and GONERIL

And your large speeches may your deeds approve,

That good effects may spring from words of love.

Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;

He'll shape his old course in a country new.

Exit

Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants

GLOUCESTER

Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

KING @TOMMYCM

My lord of Burgundy.

We first address towards you, who with this king

Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,

Will you require in present dower with her,

Or cease your quest of love?

BURGUNDY

Most royal majesty,

I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,

Nor will you tender less.

KING @TOMMYCM

Right noble Burgundy,

When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;

But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:

If aught within that little seeming substance,

Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced,

And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,

She's there, and she is yours.

BURGUNDY

I know no answer.

KING @TOMMYCM

Will you, with those infirmities she owes,

Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,

Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,

Take her, or leave her?

BURGUNDY

Pardon me, royal sir;

Election makes not up on such conditions.

KING @TOMMYCM

Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,

I tell you all her wealth.

To KING OF FRANCE

For you, great king,

I would not from your love make such a stray,

To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you

To avert your liking a more worthier way

Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed

Almost to acknowledge hers.

KING OF FRANCE

This is most strange,

That she, that even but now was your best object,

The argument of your praise, balm of your age,

Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time

Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle

So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence

Must be of such unnatural degree,

That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection

Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,

Must be a faith that reason without miracle

Could never plant in me.

CORDELIA

I yet beseech your majesty,--

If for I want that glib and oily art,

To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,

I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known

It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,

No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,

That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;

But even for want of that for which I am richer,

A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue

As I am glad I have not, though not to have it

Hath lost me in your liking.

KING @TOMMYCM

Better thou

Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

KING OF FRANCE

Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature

Which often leaves the history unspoke

That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,

What say you to the lady? Love's not love

When it is mingled with regards that stand

Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?

She is herself a dowry.

BURGUNDY

Royal @tommycm,

Give but that portion which yourself proposed,

And here I take Cordelia by the hand,

Duchess of Burgundy.

KING @TOMMYCM

Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.

BURGUNDY

I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father

That you must lose a husband.

CORDELIA

Peace be with Burgundy!

Since that respects of fortune are his love,

I shall not be his wife.

KING OF FRANCE

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;

Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!

Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:

Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.

Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect

My love should kindle to inflamed respect.

Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,

Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:

Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy

Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.

Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:

Thou losest here, a better where to find.

KING @TOMMYCM

Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we

Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see

That face of hers again. Therefore be gone

Without our grace, our love, our benison.

Come, noble Burgundy.

Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA

KING OF FRANCE

Bid farewell to your sisters.

CORDELIA

The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes

Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;

And like a sister am most loath to call

Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:

To your professed bosoms I commit him

But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,

I would prefer him to a better place.

So, farewell to you both.

REGAN

Prescribe not us our duties.

GONERIL

Let your study

Be to content your lord, who hath received you

At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,

And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

CORDELIA

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:

Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

Well may you prosper!

KING OF FRANCE

Come, my fair Cordelia.

Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA

GONERIL

Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what

most nearly appertains to us both. I think our

father will hence to-night.

REGAN

That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

GONERIL

You see how full of changes his age is; the

observation we have made of it hath not been

little: he always loved our sister most; and

with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off

appears too grossly.

REGAN

'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever

but slenderly known himself.

GONERIL

The best and soundest of his time hath been but

rash; then must we look to receive from his age,

not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed

condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness

that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

REGAN

Such unconstant starts are we like to have from

him as this of Kent's banishment.

GONERIL

There is further compliment of leavetaking

between France and him. Pray you, let's hit

together: if our father carry authority with

such dispositions as he bears, this last

surrender of his will but offend us.

REGAN

We shall further think on't.

GONERIL

We must do something, and i' the heat.

Exeunt

One Man And His Dog

There follows a silly something that was shortlisted for a BBC-organised competition at the start of this year, but never got any further. Apologies for weird spaces/poor humour etc ...

SCENE 1. INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY 1 [10.00]

HENRY LIES ON HIS LIVING ROOM SOFA. HIS SPEECH STARTS WITH A CLOSE SHOT OF HIS FACE AND WE MIGHT IMAGINE HE IS ON A PSYCHIATRIST’S COUCH. AS THE SPEECH CONTINUES, WE DRAW OUT TO SEE HE LIES ON A TATTY, LONG SOFA. HE IS A MAN WHO COULD BE EITHER SIDE OF THIRTY. HE WEARS CLOTHES THAT ARE ALMOST TRENDY. HIS GLASSES, THICK-RIMMED, CONSTANTLY SLIDE DOWN HIS NOSE. HE SMILES LOTS. WE LIKE HIM, DESPITE HIS SLIGHT PRETENTIOUSNESS.

HENRY:

Of all the girls with whom I’ve fallen in love, not one has lacked a big nose. Even those for whom my feelings were only fleeting, each and every one possessed huge noses. I’m not normal. I am a pervert. A nose pervert. I love the noses. I remember once meeting a girl, through work, I might have told you about her and her name was Sonia. Stop panting. She was beautiful. Sweet Sonia. Great fun. She once unscrewed the top of all the saltshakers in the canteen. How we laughed over our salty green leaf salads. And she liked me. I mean, really liked me. She was beautiful, model quality. Not catwalk model but cider advert type. Happy in a pub. She asked me out. And we dated and, you know. But I knew nothing would come of us. Why? Guess, Shaggy. Hers was a pretty nose, a cute nose. An artful thing. And we split up and when I told her the reason, because her nose was too pretty, it was because I wanted to be honest because, really, the reason was flattering. She was really pissed off, more than you’d think. Is it Freudian? Does my mother have a big nose? You’re drawling. I knows it’s not as simple as that, but Mum’s nose is ordinary. It’s neither pretty nor ugly. I had no traumatic experiences with noses when I was young. I can’t think of any past incident to forever link sex with noses. I’m strange. I’m ill. And if I see a pretty girl with a huge nose, I’m putty in her hands, her wish is my command, I do as she wills. I act strangely, Shaggy.

THE CAMERA HAS PULLED BACK SO FAR THAT WE SEE HE IS TALKING TO SHAGGY, HIS DOG. SHAGGY SITS IN AN ARMCHAIR, LOOKING NONPLUSSED.

Why am I telling you this? You’re only after one thing. You don’t listen because you care. You listen because you must. You dog. As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept all by the name of dogs.

SHAGGY SPEAKS WITH AN EXTREMELY RICH, UPPER CLASS VOICE, PERFECT FOR 1950S SHAKESPEARE. HE MAY NOT BE AN ACTUAL DOG AND MIGHT BE PLAYED BY AN ACTOR WHO LOOKS LIKE A DOG.

SHAGGY:(V.O.)

Henry Rowbottom, my master, an out of work actor, and a bastard. He needed help. I needed a walk. I needed feeding too.

WE HEAR THE DOORBELL. HENRY PULLS HIMSELF FROM THE SOFA AND LEAVES THE ROOM. STILL FOCUSING ON THE MOTIONLESS DOG, WE HEAR HENRY’S OFFSTAGE EXCHANGE WITH THE PIZZA DELIVERYMAN.

PIZZAMAN: (O.O.V.)

Henry! Little early for pizza, mate.

HENRY: (O.O.V.)

What time is it?

PIZZAMAN: (O.O.V.)

Half ten and you’re gonna get fat. You should run. I run. Running’s good. Run in the mornings. Out in the streets. Got some good streets around here. Long streets. Good for running and mopeds. Long streets and little pedestrians. Good for running. Got to get some running. That’s what London’s about. The streets. The long streets and little pedestrians. Good for running. You’ve got to buy the right footwear, mind. You’ve got to have quality footwear. Look at these. Ninety quid, they cost. They are my moped shoes.

HENRY: (O.O.V.)

Thanks for the advice. Nice shoes. Keep the change.

PIZZAMAN: (O.O.V.)

Twenty pence?

SOUND OF DOOR CLOSING. HENRY REAPPEARS IN THE LIVING ROOM WITH TWO PIZZA BOXES. HE OPENS ONE TO CHECK ITS CONTENTS.

HENRY:

Meat Feast. That’s yours. Do you want a plate? A beer?

CUT TO:

SCENE 2. EXT. URBAN PARK – DAY 1 [11.00]

HENRY, SHAGGY AND GIRL SIT TIGHTLY ON A PARK BENCH. HENRY READS FROM A COLLECTION OF PLAYS. HE WEARS JOGGING CLOTHES, A SWEATBAND, TRAINERS. HIS MOUTH IS STAINED BY PIZZA SAUCE. GIRL IS UNSURE WHETHER TO TALK. SHE NERVOUSLY EYES HIS STAINED MOUTH. SHE’S EXTREMELY PRETTY, A MODEL.

GIRL:

You know you’ve got sauce around your mouth?

HENRY DOESN’T RESPOND. NOT BECAUSE HE’S RUDE BUT BECAUSE HE’S SO ENGROSSED IN THE PLAY.

GIRL:

Excuse me?

HENRY DOESN’T RESPOND.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

There comes a time in every dog’s life where he must bark not for himself but for his master.

SHAGGY, AFTER SOME TIME, BARKS. HENRY JUMPS, ALMOST DROPPING HIS BOOK. SHAGGY NOW LOOKS AT GIRL, SO HENRY FOLLOWS HIS GAZE AND SMILES WITH SUDDEN EMBARRASSMENT AT THE ATTRACTIVE NEIGHBOUR.

GIRL:

Hi.

WE ZOOM IN SLOWLY TOWARDS HER PRETTY NOSE. HENRY CONTORTS HIS FACE IN DISGUST, SHAKING HIS HEAD.

HENRY:

Hello.

GIRL:

You’ve got something around your mouth. Is it blood? Are you a vampire like Robert Pattinson?

HENRY LICKS IT OFF.

HENRY:

Pizza sauce.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

My master is never comfortable in the presence of women, big-nosed or not.

GIRL:

You have a very well behaved dog. I only wish my Buster was as … stoic. That’s a good word, isn’t it? Stoic. He must be extremely well bred. Stoic.

HENRY:

Buster’s your dog?

GIRL:

Ha! Yes. Look! There he is.

GIRL POINTS. AHEAD OF THE BENCH, IN THE DIRECTION THE CHARACTERS HAVE BEEN FACING, IS A FOOTBALL FIELD OF MAD DOGS – ALL BREEDS AND SIZES AND COLOURS. THEY RUN AROUND IN A MAD FURY, BARKING AND YAPPING AND RUSHING THROUGH DOG LIFE. THIS COULD BE STOCK FOOTAGE – VERY OBVIOUSLY NOT CLOSE TO THE BENCH.

GIRL:

He’s the white one. Do you see? He’s frolicking. He loves to frolic. But don’t we all?

HENRY:

That sure ain’t frolicking, lady.

GIRL:

I like you. Do you want my phone number?

HENRY:

Your phone number?

GIRL:

Yes.

HENRY:

Yes.

WE SEE A VERY STYLISED REPRESENTATION OF HENRY’S IMAGINATION PLAY OUT: THE GIRL LEANS OVER TO KISS HIM, BUT HE IS FOCUSED ON HER NOSE. TERROR. FROM HIS POV THE NOSE APPROACHES AND HE RECOILS, SHOUTING. SNAPPING BACK TO REALITY, HE SITS WITH HIS FACE CONTORTED IN DISGUST.

GIRL:

Aren’t you going to note it down? Do you have a telephone on which to store it? The digits. Numero telephono.

HENRY:

I don’t own a phone.

GIRL:

Not at all? How will you call me?

HENRY SHRUGS.

GIRL:

It’s 07971234563.

HENRY:

OK.

GIRL:

You’ve got that?

HENRY:

Yep.

GIRL:

Holler it back.

HENRY:

0 …

HE CAN REMEMBER NO MORE.

CUT TO:

SCENE 3. INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY 2 [10.00]

HENRY LIES IN HIS CONFESSIONAL POSITION ALONG THE LENGTH OF THE SOFA. SHAGGY SITS IN THE ARMCHAIR, LISTENING.

HENRY:

Did you hear how she described her job? ‘An erotic ballerina’, she said. I don’t know what an erotic ballerina is but it sounds … erotic. Did you hear that, Shaggy? Did you hear the woman say that? ‘An erotic ballerina’. It is a girlfriend job about which you boast to friends down the pub over a game of pool. And plenty of beer. Lads. The lads. Going down the pub to watch the footy. Have you any cocaine? Nah, mate. I bet she’s able to cross her legs over her head and back again and scratching her own back with her toes and all sorts. Imagine sharing a bath with her. Imagine the loafer possibilities. The loafer possibilities. It sounds like the name of band, that’s how good it sounds. The lads. Alright, mate?

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

Henry had no friends with whom to go to the pub. And I didn’t hear the girl use the phrase ‘erotic ballerina’. I did hear her call my master ‘a knobhead’ and I did see her slap my master around the chops. I did see her storm from the bench as fast as her killy stilettos allowed.

HENRY:

The friends at the pub. Bob, Casper and Tony. Those would be their names. And they’d disown me; call me ridiculous, a gaylord perhaps. But the broad’s nose. Did you see it? Exquisite. Hollywood doctors could use it in cosmetic surgery catalogues. Not for me. She was cavalier about her dog too, letting it run about like that. Dogs catch diseases from other dogs. Or is that children? Dog shit? What is it? Dogs catch diseases from men when they sneezes? Is that a saying?

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

A King Charles’ Spaniel. That would explain the woman’s cavalier attitude.

HENRY:

No, Henry. It was good for someone to be friendly. That’s a start. Speaking to people is good. Al Pacino. I recognise that. Robert De Niro. Acting is social. Social interplay. The ladies. Lads!

SHAGGY SITS WITH A LEASH BETWEEN HIS TEETH. THE DOORBELL SOUNDS.

HENRY:

For walks, you’ll have to wait, my friend, for that is the sound of newly delivered pizza.

CUT TO:

SCENE 3. EXT. URBAN PARK – DAY 2 [11.00]

WE FOLLOW HENRY AND SHAGGY AS THEY ARPPROACH THE CHAINLINK GATE ENTRANCE TO THE PARK. IT LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING FROM THE BRONX. PERHAPS IT COULD BE – STOCK FOOTAGE AGAIN. HENRY IS LISTENING TO LATE ERA ROXY MUSIC ON HIS IPHONE. THE SOUND BLEEDS FROM HIS THICK HEADPHONES. HE SINGS ALONG IN A VOICE VERY SLIGHTLY OFF KEY. WHEN MAN AND DOG REACH THE GATE, THEY PAUSE.

WE SEE THE FOOTAGE OF MANY HUNDREDS OF DOGS RUNNING ABOUT AND HENRY LOOKS DOWN TO SHAGGY. PATTING THE DOG’S HEAD, HE TURNS TO WALK FROM THE GATE.

HENRY:

How about we try another route today, Captain?

SHAGGY IS ALREADY WALKING AHEAD.

CUT TO:

SCENE 4 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD – DAY 2 [11.20]

HENRY WALKS SHAGGY ALONG A SUBURBAN ROAD, LINED WITH CARS AND HOUSES. HE CONTINUES TO SING TO BRYAN FERRY. A VINEGAR-CHEEKED WOMAN PASSES AND SHAKES HER HEAD IN DISDAIN. HENRY IS OBLIVIOUS. HE’S ONLY REALLY HAPPY WHEN LISTENING TO ROXY MUSIC. HE MAY PASS FURTHER UNHAPPY PEOPLE. UPHEAD, SHAGGY HAS STOPPED. HENRY TROTS TO CATCH UP.

HENRY:

What is it, boy? What’s got you spooked?

HENRY FOLLOWS THE DOG’S EYES UP TO THE FIRST FLOOR WINDOW OF A NEARBY HOUSE.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

If only I’d not stopped. If only I’d walked on. A lamppost, a distant bottom to sniff. If only … but I knew what I had spotted would surely break, or make, my young master’s heart.

THERE IN THE WINDOW OF THE FIRST FLOOR IS A WOMAN. THIS IS JERRY. FINALLY, HENRY SPOTS HER. SHE’S WEARING A TSHIRT WITH A HUGE PINK HEART. IT’S SYMBOLIC.

HENRY:

Oh my days.

WE FOCUS ON HER NOSE. IT’S MASSIVE.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

Note well - she had a very big nose.

CUT TO:

SCENE 5. INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY 2 [16.00]

HENRY LIES ON HIS SOFA. SHAGGY WATCHES ON.

HENRY:

And her nose and that t-shirt and the …

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

When he wasn’t talking of her, he was walking me past her house.

CUT TO:

SCENE 6 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD – DAY 3 [11.20]

HENRY WALKS PAST THE HOUSE WITH A RAISED EYEBROW. JERRY STANDS FROZEN AT THE WINDOW.

CUT TO:

SCENE 7 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD – DAY 4 [11.20]

IT IS HEAVY RAIN. HENRY WALKS PAST THE HOUSE WITH A RAISED EYEBROW AND A SMILE. JERRY STANDS FROZEN AT THE WINDOW.

CUT TO:

SCENE 8 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD – DAY 5 [11.20]

HENRY WALKS PAST WITH A RAISED EYEBROW, A SMILE AND WAVING. JERRY STANDS FROZEN AT THE WINDOW.

CUT TO:

SCENE 10. INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY 7 [11.00]

HENRY LIES ON HIS SOFA. PIZZA SAUCE SURROUNDS HIS MOUTH. SHAGGY WATCHES HIM. HIS MUZZLE IS STAINED RED TOO.

HENRY:

There’s got to be something I can do. I’ve waved. I’ve had t-shirts printed. I’ve waved. At the window, she waits. Does she wait for me, Shaggy? For whom does she wait? Why is her vigil?

SHAGGY BARKS.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

I had intended my bark to signify solidarity. I wanted to show empathy. It is a dog’s life to want the unattainable. ‘Plenty more fish in the sea’ – that’s what I wanted my bark to mark. I understood Henry. I’m not sure Henry understood me. All the barking in the world was impotent. It only strengthened his resolve.

HENRY STARES AT SHAGGY’S MUZZLE. SHAGGY BARKS. HENRY’S EYES LIGHT WITH A PLAN.

HENRY:

Great Scott! That’s it! Shaggy! You’re a genius. A plan!

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

At least, I consoled myself, I would be at his side. He wouldn’t be shamed alone. It was the duty of a dog to provide such support.

CUT TO:

SCENE 11 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD – DAY 6 [11.20]

HENRY RUSHES ALONG THE SUBURBAN STREET WITH SHAGGY PULLING AT THE LEAD BEHIND HIM. (SHAGGY WOULD RATHER EVEN BE AT THE VET’S THAN HERE.) WHEN HE REACHES THE HOUSE, HE LOOKS UP TO FIND JERRY STANDING AT THE WINDOW, IMPASSIVE AS EVER. TODAY, HOWEVER, SHE WEARS A TSHIRT ADORNED WITH THE FACE OF BRYAN FERRY. THIS CAUSES HENRY GREAT JOY.

HENRY:

Ferry!

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

Second only to his love for big noses was his passion for Roxy Music.

HENRY COMMANDS SHAGGY TO SIT AT THE PAVEMENT AND STRIDES INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. THERE, HE TAKES A BOTTLE OF KETCHUP FROM HIS TROUSERS. AFTER SOME DIFFICULTY, HE MANAGES TO SMEAR THE SAUCE OVER HIS FACE. WHEN HE IS HAPPY WITH THE COVERING AMOUNT, HE REPLACES THE BOTTLE, TAKES A FINAL LOOK UP INTO THE WINDOW AND DROPS TO THE ROAD, MAKING AS IF HIT BY A CAR. WE SEE THE FRONT WHEEL OF A MOPED APPROACH HIS HEAD. SHAGGY TROTS OVER. PIZZAMAN SLIDES OFF HIS MOPED.

PIZZAMAN:

Henry! Why do you lie in the road with tomato on your face?

HENRY DOESN’T RESPOND. PIZZAMAN PUSHES HIS FOOT AGAINST HIS HEAD. SHAGGY BEGINS TO THE LICK THE SAUCE FROM HENRY’S FACE.

HENRY:

Go away! Both of you! I command it!

PIZZAMAN:

I can’t. You lie in the path of my moped.

HENRY:

I’ve been hit by a car. Tell him, Shaggy.

SHAGGY: (V.O.)

But, of course, even if I had wanted to lie, I could not.

SHAGGY BARKS.

PIZZAMAN:

I saw you take your place. There was no car. Why do you have pizza sauce on your face?

HENRY:

It’s ketchup. Blood, I mean. It’s blood. Not ketchup.

PIZZAMAN POKES HIS EXPENSIVE LOOKING TRAINERS AT HENRY’S FACE.

PIZZAMAN:

Well … this is a very peculiar set of circumstances. A peculiar set of circumstances indeed.

HENRY:

Is there a big-nosed woman watching from the window of the closest house?

PIZZAMAN STRAINS HIS EYES TO LOOK. WE SEE ONLY AN EMPTY WINDOW.

PIZZAMAN:

There is no woman.

HENRY SITS UP.

HENRY:

No woman?

SHAGGY BARKS. WE HEAR THE DIESEL ENGINE OF A BUS. IT PASSES ACROSS THE IMAGE OF OUR THREE CHARACTERS. JERRY PASSSES TOO. HENRY, SHAGGY AND PIZZAMAN FOLLOW HER PROGRESS AS SHE REACHES THE ADJACENT BUS STOP AND BOARDS THE BUS. THE BUS DEPARTS. THIS ALL HAPPENS IN AN EFFORTLESS BLUR OF RED AND EXHAUST.

SHAGGY:

The girl with the big nose waited for a bus, watching for its arrival from her bedroom window. This was no amorous maiden. This was a workaday commuter.

PIZZAMAN DRIVES OFF ON HIS MOPED, SHOUTING UNINTELLIGBLY. HENRY STANDS, ATTEMPTING TO WIPE THE KETCHUP FROM HIS FACE.

HENRY:

Can dogs ride buses?

A CAR APPROACHES BEHIND HENRY RAPIDLY. INSIDE IS A PAIR OF OLD WOMEN. THEY GESTICULATE WITH INAPPROPRIATE VIOLENCE FOR HENRY TO GET OUT OF THEIR WAY.

HENRY:

Come on, Shaggy. Let’s go home. To consider buses. The buses. What a piece of work is bus. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, waiting for a bus. Some are born buses, others achieve buses and some have buses thrust upon them. She was waiting for a bus, mate.

THEY BEGIN THEIR WALK OF THE PAVEMENTS HOME. THE SOUNDS OF MORE THAN THIS BY ROXY MUSIC PLAY AS THE IMAGE OF OUR TWO HEROES FADE.

OLD LADY: (O.O.V.)

And he had sauce all over his chin.

END OF EPISODE