TWO GUYS ARE IN A MORTUARY IN THE SEMI-DARK. THERE'S A BODY ON THE SLAB. IT'S COVERED BY A SHEET. THE LIGHTS FADE UP AND WE CAN SEE THAT THE GUYS ARE PATHOLOGISTS.
PATHOLOGIST 1:
Right you crack on and make a start. I'll make the tea and sandwiches.
PATHOLOGIST 2:
OK. But make sure you wash your hands first. I wouldn't want to catch anything. There's a good chap.
HE INDICATES THE BODY
PATHOLOGIST 1 (Copying):
Just wash your hands. That's a good chap.
PATHOLOGIST ONE STARTS TO LOOK UPSET. HE STANDS CLOSE TO THE OTHER.
PATHOLOGIST 1:
There's no need to take that tone with me you bastard! You're always picking on me! Wash your hands naughty child. Do your homework or you'll get the belt! You're not a patch on your sister you dolt! Oh yes that's what they said. But I'm not a bad boy! Don't beat me daddy! Please! Oh please don't!
PATHOLOGIST ONE BREAKS DOWN INTO A FIT OF SOBBING THEN HE GRABS A SCALPEL AND HOLDS IT TO THE OTHER'S THROAT
PATHOLOGIST 1:
I could end up putting you on one of those slabs if you don't look out. You'd better apologise to me if you don't want to end up being my next customer
PATHOLOGIST 2:
OK OK! You've made your point. Relax for God's sake.
PATHOLOGIST ONE CALMS DOWN. HE HANGS HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS FOR A MOMENT
PATHOLOGIST 1:
Oh I'm so terribly sorry. what must you think of me? (PAUSE) It's just that sometimes this awful job gets to me. I wanted to be a rock star but now look at me.
PATHOLOGIST 2:
No Problmes. It's OK honestly. This job can get to us all sometimes.
THEY GET ON WITH THEIR WORK. PATHOLOGIST TWO MAKES AN INCISION IN THE BODY AND THE OTHER GOES TO A SIDE ROOM AND PLUGS IN A KETTLE. HE PUTS TEABAGS IN TWO CUPS AND TURNS ON THE RADIO WHICH STARTS TO PLAY QUIETLY. IT'S MOTORHEAD'S ACE OF SPADES. HE STANDS LISTENING TO THE SONG. WHEN THE GUITAR SOLO COMES ON HE PLAYS AIR GUITAR TO IT PULLING FACES AND GIVING IT BIG LICKS. A TEAR ROLLS DOWN HIS CHEEK.
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