A grand hotel with a long gravel drive with central fountain. Very posh indeed. In the distance we can see a car transporter with sports cars and convertibles etc approach which parks in front of the entrance blocking the light in reception. The perplexed manager comes out to greet the guests, a couple of Sloane Rangers.
MANAGER:
Good afternoon ladies, may I welcome to Thoroughbred Hall Hotel.
SLOANE 1:
Hello, ya?
MANAGER:
Um, reception is this way. Do you have any luggage?
The women look at each other and then giggle hysterically and then glance back at the truck.
MANAGER:
That's your luggage?
SLOANE 1:
In the car boots, silly.
MANAGER:
All of them?
SLOANE 1&2:
Ya!
They giggle again.
MANAGER:
This is a little unusual. Can I ask why you have visited us in a car transporter.
SLOANE 2:
Oh derr...
The manager looks puzzled. The women sigh as they attempt to explain.
SLOANE 1:
We gels have mega-loads planned for this trip. A hideously expensive meal here, a drunken party there...
SLOANE 2:
A drug-feulled orgy everywhere else
SLOANE 1:
...so it's important that we arrive in style. We have to make sure we have the wheels for every occasion.
MANAGER:
Oh, I see! Usually it's additional cases of footwear and frocks that our guests bring (laughs).
The Sloanes look serious.
SLOANE 2:
They're on their way.
Cut to a shot of a convoy of lorries driving up to the hotel.
END
