EXT. DOORWAY. SECLUDED PRIVATE HOUSE.
FX DOORBELL.
A WELL TO DO WOMAN OPENS HER DOOR TO A ROUGH LOOKING MAN.
WOMAN:
Yes?
MAN:
Good day to ya madam. Would ya loike yer droiveway tarmaced?
WOMAN:
No, I would not.
MAN:
Sure we'll do it for four hundred quid.
WOMAN:
If you would open your eyes you uncouth oik, you'll notice that we have brick paving.
MAN:
Ha! So ya do. Ah well, not to worry. (PAUSE) We'll tarmac over ta top of ta paving, it'll be a grand job.
WOMAN:
I said no. Now run along to your itinerant camp or wherever it is you lot masquerade as humans you tiresome tinker.
MAN:
Madam, calling me a tinker is in no way an insult. (PAUSE) There's been loads of great tinkers, loike Plato, Voltaire and tat short arse with ta funny voice.
WOMAN:
Get off my property this instant or I'll call the police.
MAN:
Now tat would be totally futoile. Look.
MAN POINTS.
CAMERA PAN TO SECOND MAN UP TELEGRAPH POLE WITH WIRE CUTTERS.
WOMAN:
You imbeciles, you really have no idea who you're dealing with.
WOMAN LIFTS MOBILE PHONE OUT OF POCKET.
MAN:
And yer wasting yer toime trying to use yer moboile. My IT guy is sitting in ta truck now blocking yer signal.
CUT TO THIRD MAN ON LAPTOP INSIDE BATTERED TRUCK.
MAN:
Damien's great at ta old computer malarkey and if ya throw him a few quid he'll fit ya a digibox with free sky sports built in for loife, ya can't say bad to tat now, can ya?
WOMAN:
This is preposterous, what do you want?
MAN:
We just want to tarmac yer droive, eight hundred, job's a good 'un.
WOMAN:
You said four hundred a minute a go.
MAN:
So I did madam, my mistake. I'll do it for two grand.
WOMAN:
My husband will be home very soon and he'll not stand for this ill mannered insolence.
MAN:
Who Basil? Sure, we'll not have to worry about Basil.
WOMAN:
You know Basil?
MAN:
I was hoping we didn't have to do tis but..
MAN TAKES ENVELOPE OUT OF HIS COAT AND PULLS OUT SOME PHOTOS.
MAN:
Our surveillance unit has been watching Basil for some toime, I don't want to go in to ta gory details but tis one photo is particularly dorty.
WOMAN: (looking at photos)
Basil, Basil, how could you?
WOMAN STARTS TO SOB.
MAN:
Madam, you know and I know tat Basil mixes with some highfalutin folk. Now if our PR guru Leo ever got a whiff of tis, at ta very least yer talkin' News Of Ta World, maybe even ta Sunday Toimes.
WOMAN:
We'll be ruined if this ever gets out. How much do you want?
MAN:
Hmm, we'll call it ten grand.
WOMAN:
Will you accept a cheque?
MAN:
No way Jose. Credit cards only with us lads.
WOMAN GETS HER CREDIT CARD.
MAN BRINGS OUT SWIPE MACHINE.
MAN:
If you'd just entur yer four digit pin code please madam. (PAUSE) Tey take ages for the receipts tese machines, here we go. Tat's your copy, I'll keep tis one.
CUT TO TRUCK TIPPING LOAD OF TARMAC ONTO DRIVE.
MAN:
The lads have finished an' all. Tey're f**king animals tem lads when it comes to work.
WOMAN:
But they haven't flattened it out yet.
MAN:
A good heavy shower of rain and it'll be loike an airport runway in no toime. Good day to ya madam.
MAN GETS INTO BATTERED TRUCK AND DRIVES OFF.