REVENGE
Setting Local Pub
Plot Crowd gathered round big screen T.V. Watching local
premiership team, playing a football match.
Generally being loud and hurling drunken abuse, screaming
shouting and giving vent to the opposing team.
Old age pensioner, walks into Pub for a quite drink. He walks up
to the bar, and says (in a middle class accent)
O.A.P: I say barmen, could I have a pint of best bitter please?
BARMAN: TURNING ROUND, LOOKED AT HIM, TURNED BACK TO THE
FOOTBALL, COMPLETELY IGNORING HIM.
O.A.P: I say barman, could I have a pint of best bitter please?
(IN A SLIGHTLY ANNOYED VOICE)
BARMAN: (TOTALLY IGNORING HIM AGAIN)
O.A.P: Excuse me! Did you hear me?
BARMAN: (TURNING ROUND AND BEGRUDGINGLY STOMPING OVER TO
THE O.A.P.)
Whaddyer want?
O.A.P: I said, "can I have a pint of best bitter please?"
BARMAN: (PULLING UP A PINT OF BITTER AND SLAMMING IT DOWN ON
THE COUNTER)
Thats three pand twenty.
O.A.P: I say! That's a bit steep, isn't it?
BARMAN: Gotta pay fer the entertainment (NODDING TOWARDS THE
SCREEN AND WALKING BACK TO WATCH THE MATCH)
O.A.P. (THE OLD BOY WALKS TO THE TABLE MUTTERING TO HIMSELF)
Got no damn respect for their elders, these youngsters.
FX SOUND OF FOOTBALL MATCH BEING PLAYED, BAR CROWD,
GETTING LOUDER AND LOUDER.
CROWD: Go on son, give im some stick, get in there you bleedin pouf
chop im down e.c.t. e.c.t.
O.A.P: (GETTING ANNOYED WITH ALL THE NOISE)
I say, can you keep the noise down? (IN A LOUD VOICE)
CROWD: (TURNING ROUND TO HIM, JEERING AND SHOUTING)
Shut up! You old git, were watching the football, if
you don't like it, piss off (CROWD IN CHORUS) yea piss
off you miserable old git.
O.A.P: (HE RETURNED TO HIS DRINK, WITH A LOOK OF DISGUST; THEN
HE NOTICED AN OBJECT ON THE BAR, IT WAS THE TV
CONTROL BOX. A SNEAKY REVENGEFUL LOOK CAME INTO HIS
EYES, HE GOT UP, TIP TOED TO THE BAR AND
PICKED IT UP, THEN WALKED BACK TO HIS SEAT.
AFTER PATIENTLY WAITING FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT, WHEN
THE HOME TEAM, LOOKED LIKE SCORING, HE HELD THE
CONTROL BOX UNDER THE TABLE AND SWITCHED CHANNELS,
RESULTING IN:-
CROWD: Argggghhhhhhhhh woss appened, where's the control box.
I bet we scored!
(MAYHEM ENSUES WHILE EVERYBODY TRIES TO FIND THE TELE
CONTROL, AFTER TEN MINUTES OF FRANTICLLY SEARCHING
FOR SAID BOX)
OA.P: (FINISHES HIS PINT, GETS UP, WALK TOWARDS THE DOOR AND
OPENS THE EXIT DOOR, TURNS ROUND AND SAYS
I say you chaps (HOLDING UP THE CONTROL BOX) is this
what you are looking for? (WHEREBYE HE TOSSES THE BOX
TO THE CROWD, AND BEFORE ANYBODY CAN CATCH IT, THE
BOX FALLS TO THE FLOOR AND DISINTIGRATES)
HE STROLLS DOWN THE ROAD,THINKING TO HIMSELF
(nothing like a nice quite beer)
END