INT. DAY. DELIVERY SUITE.
A WOMAN IS IN THE FINAL STAGES OF LABOUR.
MIDWIFE:
One last push, deep breaths, that's it, it's coming. Here it is.
WOMAN:
What is it? What is it?
MIDWIFE BRINGS BABY ROUND TO WOMAN AND HUSBAND.
MIDWIFE:
You've got a girl.
WOMAN:
A girl! we wanted a boy.
HUSBAND:
Yeah, could you take it back please, its not suitable.
MIDWIFE:
Take it back? Your wife's just given birth.
WOMAN:
I'll have to get a refund, the nursery's blue and everything.
HUSBAND:
Could you wedge it back up inside her, then we'll try again and see if it comes out with a willy this time.
MIDWIFE:
This is some kind of a sick joke, right?
WOMAN:
No joke.(PAUSE) Listen I've carried this for nine months and I'm not leaving hospital without a boy.
HUSBAND:
Now be a good midwife and run along and get us a boy.
MIDWIFE: (talking to husband)
Have you been taking gas too?
HUSBAND:
No, I'm totally compos mentis. (PAUSE) This is the last time I tell you, get us a boy or else.
MIDWIFE:
Or else what?
WOMAN STRUGGLES OFF BED AND SQUARES UP TO MIDWIFE.
WOMAN: (looking at baby)
She gets it.
MIDWIFE:
Erm, I think I'll call security.
WOMAN:
Make that call and little pumpkin here is going out that window.
THE MIDWIFE FAINTS.
HUSBAND:
Shit, ok, what's plan B?
WOMAN:
Plan B? You've got a head like a sieve. We go to see the sex change surgeon.
HUSBAND:
It's NHS though, we'll have to fill in forms and wait for ages.
WOMAN:
We'll do it ourselves then, now get me some scissors?