INT. SITTING ROOM - NIGHT
MIDDLE CLASS HOUSE, CIRCA 1938. DARK WOOD FURNITURE,
BOOKSHELVES AND ANTIMACASSARS. ALL VERY NOEL COWARD.
THE HUSBAND IS SEATED IN AN ARMCHAIR. HE IS
ATTEMPTING TO FINISH THE TIMES CROSSWORD. OCCASIONALLY
STARES INTO THE MIDDLE DISTANCE AND PUFFS ON HIS PIPE.
HIS WIFE IS SEATED ON AN UPRIGHT CHAIR, TO ONE SIDE OF HER
IS LOW TABLE ON WHICH IS A SEWING BASKET KNICK-KNACKS. SHE
HOLDS IN HER HANDS A SMALL ROUND SEWING FRAME AND IS
CONCENTRATING INTENSELY ON HER NEEDLEPOINT.
CLASSICAL MUSIC COMES FROM THE LARGE RADIOGRAM.
THE COUPLE CARRY ON ABOUT THEIR TASKS IN SILENCE. AFTER A
FEW MOMENTS THE HUSBAND SLAPS HIS NEWSPAPER DOWN AND BEGINS
TO SEARCH, WITH GROWING URGENCY, AROUND AND ABOUT HIM,
SHOVING HIS HANDS DOWN THE SIDES OF THE CHAIR AND
HARRUMPHING LOUDLY.
WIFE: (Without looking up) Lost something Darling?
HUSBAND: (Searching) Yes, blast it.
THE WIFE LOOKS OVER THE TOP OF HER SEWING.
HUSBAND: Sorry Sweetheart.
WIFE: Where did you last have it?
HUSBAND: That's the odd thing, I can't remember.
WIFE: Tell me what it is your looking for and I'll tell you
if I've seen it.
HUSBAND: The remote.
WIFE: The remote?
HUSBAND: Yes Pudding. The remote.
WIFE: The remote, what?
HUSBAND: Not the remote anything, just, the remote. The
dooberry, the oofah-doofah, the kerchunk-kerchunk. You know,
the remote.
WIFE: I'm sorry Dearest, but I have no idea what you mean.
What does it look like?
HUSBAND: (Growing irritated) Black rectangle, six inches
long, half an inch thick, lots of numbered and coloured
buttons on one side.
WIFE: No... Can't say I've seen that Darling. What does it
do exactly?
HUSBAND: Oh for goodness sake woman, it's for changing the
bloody channels.
SHE GIVES HIM AN ICY STARE.
WIFE: You know my views on language Darling. I do not
appreciate being spoken to like one of your factory hands.
HUSBAND: Sorry Darling. (Calmly) It is for changing the
channels my Sweetness.
WIFE: Changing the channels on what?
HUSBAND: (Holding in his rage) The channels on the
Television...
WIFE: Dearest, we don't own a Television.
HUSBAND: Oh...
WIFE: Because though there have been some broadcasts from
Alexandra Place there is not, as of yet, a regular service.
HUSBAND: Oh...
WIFE: And, as there is only one channel, the need for a
remote to change it would seem, at best, some what
redundant.
HUSBAND: Oh...
THEY RETURN TO THEIR RESPECTIVE TASKS. AFTER A MOMENT THE
HUSBAND STANDS AND CROSSES TO THE BOOKSHELF, HE BEGINS TO
HUNT THROUGH THE BOOKS, OPENING THEM AS THOUGH HE EXPECTS
THEM TO CONTAIN SOMETHING.
WIFE: what are you looking for now darling?
HUSBAND: I was just wondering what DVD'S we had. I fancy
something with car chases and explosions. What about you?
WIFE: (Sighing) Not commercially viable for the home viewer
until the mid 1990's.
HUSBAND: Oh...
HE STANDS LOOKING AROUND THE ROOM LIKE A BORED CHILD ON A
RAINY DAY TRYING TO FIND SOMETHING TO INTEREST HIM. SHE
CONTINUES TO SEW.
HUSBAND: F**k it. I'm off down the Nags, they've got the
Arsenal match on Sky at seven thirty.
HE EXITS. THE WIFE CONTINUES TO SEW FOR A MOMENT AND THEN
HEARS THE FRONT DOOR SLAM.
WIFE: Mid 1980's...
SHE OPENS UP HER SEWING BASKET TAKES OUT AN iPOD, SLIPS ON
THE HEADPHONES AND RESUMES SEWING, HEAD BOBBING TO THE BEAT
OF THE MUSIC.
THE END
