INT. LEO'S DRESSING ROOM - 10:05AM
SOLOMON AND DENNY STAND LOOKING WORRIED. BETWEEN THEM, IN THE FOREGROUND HANGS THE CLOWN SHOE CLAD FEET OF LEO SAYER'S CORPSE.
DENNY:
What are we gonna do?
SOLOMON:
Buggered if I know?
DENNY:
Well, should we cut him down?
SOLOMON:
Go on then.
DENNY
What me?
SOLOMON
It's your fault he's up there.
DENNY
What?
SOLOMON WAGS HIS FINGER KNOWINGLY AT DENNY. THEY STAND IN SILENCE FOR A FEW MOMENTS.
DENNY
We cor just leave him there.
(beat)
Con we?
SOLOMON
What, pretend we never saw it like?
DENNY
Could do? Nah, we've gotta cut him down.
SOLOMON
It's on you Rasta.
DENNY THINKS ABOUT HIS OPTIONS.
DENNY
I'll goo and tell production.
HE TURNS TO LEAVE.
SOLOMON
Whoa, easy.
DENNY
What?
SOLOMON
You can't tell production.
DENNY
How come?
SOLOMON
How come? Because it's your fault he's up there innit.
DENNY
Won ya mean? I bay done it.
SOLOMON
Seven hundred and fifty two?
DENNY (realises)
Oh.
SOLOMON'S RADIO CRACKLES INTO LIFE.
PAUL (V.O) (over radio)
Audio for slack line, come in slack line.
SOLOMON (into radio)
Go for backline.
PAUL (V.O)
Where are you? You've been gone ages.
SOLOMON
We'll be out in a minute love, we're just sorting something out.
PAUL (V.O)
Have you got racket?
SOLOMON SIGHS AND TURNS HIS RADIO OFF.
DENNY
Seven fifty two, really?
SOLOMON (nods)
You've killed Leo Sayer dude.
DENNY
Ah, Jesus Christ. What are we gonna do? We cor just leave him swinging from the rafters con we? Someone's gonna notice.
SOLOMON
I don't know? I'm up for calling it in and collecting the Insurance money for the tour, then I'm gone man.
DENNY
Won ya mean gone?
SOLOMON
Gone. I told you Rasta, I'm out mate. Twenty years, done. I'm off to make my fortune. Got my money saved up, just got to buy me a ticket to Hollywood.
DENNY
What about him?
SOLOMON
I don't think he's coming.
DENNY
What are we gonna say?
SOLOMON
Well, if you say that he's hung himself they're gonna wanna know why. Which leaves you with five years for assisted suicide. You could fake a letter but they're gonna know the hand writing so-
DENNY
Accident? We could throw him in the.
SOLOMON
A drowning? By strangulation?
DENNY
Bollocks.
SOLOMON (brain wave)
Empty flight case! We can bundle him inside, stick him at the front of the truck.
DENNY
And then what, tek him on tour with us? What if he leaks?
DENNY STARTS TO PACE.
DENNY
This is so bad. I knew we shouldn't of taken him out.
SOLOMON (thinks)
Alright, how about this? We cut him down, re-hang him in a cupboard, whack a piece of lemon in his mouth and say he died from one of those wanking accidents.
DENNY
That's not bad actually. Who's gonna tek his cock out though?
SOLOMON
Leo's lazy lob on? It's all yours Rasta.
THEY STARE AT EACH OTHER FOR A MOMENT.
DENNY (sighs defeated)
Right, yow grab his legs. I'll cut the rope.
THEY BEGIN TO STRUGGLE WITH THE CORPSE.
PAUL SUDDENLY POPS HIS HEAD AROUND THE DOOR STARTLING THEM.
PAUL (scanning the room)
Where is it then?
SOLOMON AND DENNY LET GO OF THE BODY LIKE A PAIR OF NAUGHTY SCHOOL KIDS CAUGHT IN THE ACT. THE BODY BOUNCES ON THE ROPE AND SWINGS FROM SIDE TO SIDE.
PAUL
Have you not done me one you selfish bast-
PAUL NOTICES LEO'S CORPSE.
PAUL (cont'd)
Ooooh!
(to Denny)
Was that you?
SOLOMON
Seven hundred and fifty two dude.
DENNY (to Paul)
Get in here... And lock that bloody door.
PAUL RUSHES IN AND SHUTS THE DOOR.
PAUL
I haven't got a key.
DENNY
Use a chair or something.
PAUL PROPS A CHAIR UNDER THE DOOR HANDLE AND SEARCHES THE ROOM LIKE A FERRET FOR HIS LINE OF COCAINE.
PAUL
Does this mean the gig's cancelled?
DENNY CUTS HIM A LOOK. THEY STAND IN SILENCE.
PAUL (still searching)
So did you get any racket?
END SCENE