DOCTORS SURGERY MID MORNING A MIDDLE AGED CHAP WALKS UP TO RECEPTION. BARRY MANNING. THE RECEPTIONIST SUSIE ATTENDS TO HIM.
BARRY: Morning dear, I have an appointment to see the doctor, Mr Manning.
SUSIE: We don’t have a doctor called Manning.
BARRY: What? No, I’m Mr Manning…Barry Manning.
SUSIE: Oh sorry, it’s one of those days…everything is going wrong.If you'd just like to take a seat the doctor will see you shortly.
BARRY: Ok thanks.
HE SITS NEXT TO ANOTHER PATIENT TREVOR HIRST. TREVOR IS BALD.
TREVOR: Is it still raining?
BARRY: Sorry, raining, oh yes, bucketing down, (BEAT) you‘re here to see the doctor then?
TREVOR: No, I’m here to see the nurse.
BARRY: The nurse, oh I see, it’s ok, I won’t mention it.
TREVOR: Mention what?
BARRY: Well the last time I came to the doctors, you only saw the nurse if you had nits or you’d caught a dose {HE LOOKS AT HIS HEAD} local girl was it?
TREVOR: No it’s nothing like that…I’m here for my injections I’m going on holiday I have to have my typhoid and diphtheria injections.
BARRY: Oh right! Going abroad then.
TREVOR: Yes, India!
BARRY: Me and the wife are having a change this year…no tourists, golden beeches, wonderful food, lovely people.
TREVOR: Sounds great, where you going?
BARRY: Whitby.
TREVOR: Whitby!
BARRY: Oh yes, can’t wait…I can’t do with all this going abroad me, I’ll take
England’s green and pleasant land any day…a guy came into work the other day, he was on about going to Turkey, I soon put him right.
TREVOR: Why? What’s wrong with Turkey…I went there a couple of years ago,
best holiday I’ve ever had.
BARRY: Yes, but that would have been pre bird flu, you can’t go anywhere in the
world without the risk of catching something.
TREVOR: Rubbish.
BARRY: Ok, you tell me where you’d like to go, anywhere in the world.
TREVOR: Anywhere?
BARRY: Anywhere.
TREVOR: Ok, what about the West Indies?
BARRY: Drugs, muggings, rape, disease…stay well clear of that place.
TREVOR; Ok then, what about Egypt?
BARRY: What’s to see there? The only thing Egypt has to offer is the pyramids.
TREVOR: What’s wrong with the pyramids?
BARRY: Nothing if you like touring graveyards…that’s all they are…overgrown, over rated bloody tomb stones.
TREVOR: Ok, Australia, there’s nothing wrong with Australia.
BARRY: Are you kidding? Australia…good day blue, alright you pommy bastard, that’s just the police…no, they have them red back spiders as well, one bite from them and you’re wife’s selling you’re cd collection…a mate of mine went to Australia, he was in a bar, went to the loo, whipped out his old man, red back had a nibble, gone in no time, didn’t even have time to shake it.
TREVOR: The trick is to blow them off.
BARRY: He didn’t have the time to tell if was male or female.
TREVOR: What about Europe then, France, what’s wrong with France?
BARRY: France, bloody France, I don’t even feel I have to answer that, I saw the antiques road show a couple of months ago…a guy brought a corgi toy car to the show, mint, still in the box, never been touched…I’ve seen the French equivalent, they bring soap…it’s passed down through the family…dirty bastards, then they want to kiss you, no thanks, they have cafes on the pavement, when it rains you’ve got cars splashing muck and shit all over you’re food, the French don’t know the bloody difference. I’ll stick to Whitby.
TREVOR: Well you’ve not put me off, I’m still going to India, I’ve saved up all year,I’ve been working up to 60 hours a week with overtime to pay for it, and I’m determined to enjoy it.
BARR: Well you go ahead son, and good luck (BEAT) 60 hours a week, you must have a good job.
TREVOR: Yes, I work in the printing trade.
BARRY: It’s getting so bad where I work they might be laying people off soon, no ones buying anything; we haven’t sold a thing for months.
TREVOR: What do you do?
BARRY: I’m a travel agent.
very good! Nice bit of banter/dialogue and a good punchline!
Another good one!