[MAN and WOMAN are in their suburban garden. An EXTERMINATOR in a white jumpsuit is investigating a tree next to the back door]
EXTERMINATOR: Yep. Yes, they’re wasps all right. Right here in your garden. Coming into the house I wouldn’t wonder.
MAN: And can you get rid of them?
E: Oh, yes, no sweat.
WOMAN: Oh, wonderful. Shall I put the kettle on?
E: Ah, right, but I’m not allowed to, you see. And, yes, a cuppa would be brilliant, love.
M: What’s that?
E: White, three sugars.
M: Never mind that, why can’t you get rid of this infestation? Isn’t that your job?
E: Oh yeah, without a doubt. Extermination, I’m all over that, vocationally speaking. It’s just that, I’m not allowed to get rid of these particular wasps.
W: Oh! Are they protected?
E: Yes. No. Sort of. It’s not the species, you see, darling, it’s these particular wasps. The thing about these precise wasps, what it is, you see, about these here wasps, is that they’re listed.
M: You mean...like a building?
E: Yeah, just like a building. ‘Cept buzzier. And in your garden. Couldn;t have a building in the garden...except maybe a shed. Anyway, these here wasps have been here since the 18th century.
M: The 18th century?
E: Yeah, look very closely, and you can see the wigs. Tiny little wigs, they’re wearing. Terribly unhygienic, of course, them wigs, but that was the fashion of the day. So, anyway, I’m not allowed to make any alterations to them.
M: Well, can’t you kill them?
E: I’d call that a pretty big alteration, wouldn’t you?
W: I think what we mean is...well, surely they’ll die eventually, so what’s the difference?
E: Look, love, one day, right, one day the white cliffs of Dover will crumble in to the sea because of coastal erosion, but I can’t start going at them with a JCB, could I? Wouldn’t be moral, legal or...any of the above.
W: Granted, but surely the wasps will die somewhat sooner, nobody would know.
M: And then the nation could enjoy their little corpses in, you know, a museum or whatever.
E: You call that living heritage? Eh? It’d be like putting St Paul’s in a dome.
M: it’s already in a dome.
W: Listen, the point is, it’s not been these actual wasps here, has it?
E: Course.
W: You mean...you’re saying these specific wasps are three centuries old? How can that be?
E: I told you, they’re listed. Got listed in the 18th century, never died.
M: Err...what did you say?
E: Yeah, when they list something, it lives forever. Dunno how they do it, some sort of ritual or something. Been passed down in secret through, like, Archbishops, or whatever. Surprised you don’t know that.
W: And, erm, are people ever listed?
E: Oh, yeah. All the time. Well, not all the time, that’d be exhausting. Special occasions. There’s, like, a raffle.
M: And how do you get tickets?
E: You don’t. All National Trust members gets picked from. Like a lottery
W: Oh. Are we in the National Trust, darling?
M: No.
E: Ah, well, this could be your lucky day. I just happen to have a couple of forms here, cos I had to nip round on the way over, see, to check about these wasps, and I thought, on the offchance... [Takes out forms] Just fill them in and drop them round with the cheque, for, what is it, £130 per year. Have to be priority members to go in the tombola, you see.
W: And this voluntary £20 donation to the Turner birthplace memorial fund, should we pay that too?
E: Well, I don’t know. I’m not allowed to say [Tapping nose] I couldn’t possibly say whether that would have a positive effect [Winking]
M: Right, well, excellent, we’ll get these sent off in a jiffy. Oh, and don’t worry about the wasps.
E: Right you are. Now, about that tea.
[Freeze frame. Pull out to see the above shown on a projector in a meeting room. Lights come up]
CHAIR: And that is how Roderick Maunay became our National Trust salesperson of the year, well done, Roderick!
[Applause]
And I must also mention in despatches our runner up, Gail Bollinger, for her excellent email campaign, “The National Trust has crashed on the Nigerian border”. Sterling work.
[More applause]
That just about wraps us up for another year, and remember, people: the National Trust must be sold by any means necessary. OK, I think there’s coffee coming, so just –
[Enter MESSENGER, at a run. Comes up to CHAIR and hands them a piece of paper]
MESSENGER: Madam! I’ve just been contacted!
CHAIR : What is it, girl?
MESSENGER: Apparently the RSPB has won the Mexican lottery, and if we can put up the admin fee we can have half!
CHAIR: Quick! Where’s my credit card.
KC82 got a vote not just a mention.
