Crudely, Badly, Cheaply Part 1

Crudely, Badly, Cheaply Part  1
by Nigel Banks

                                                      CHARACTERS

Roger Soul
Jimmy McIver
Mo Greensmith
Lemmy Arthur
Denise Cairney
Fred Lees - Publican

...………………………………………………………………..................


FX: BACKGROUND AMBIENT PUB NOISE PLAYS BENEATH  VOICEOVER

JIMMY: The British Pub! What a wonderful invention. Bit of a clichéd  institution, I know. More of an endangered species by 2001, what with thousands closing down every year. But if you can find a good one, then you’re on to a winner. My watering-hole of choice is The Dog and Duck, which has been run for a goodly long time by         “Mein Host” Fred Lees. It’s become my second home. First stuck my  nose round the door as a snot-nosed teenager. Fred knew I was under-age, but turned a blind eye. He could tell I was going to become a  regular. Since those early days it’s become my social centre, dining-room, and office. Conduct a lot of my business from there, not to mention  my romantic liaisons – well, the chat-up part – with varying degrees of               success, it has to be said. Ah yes, The Dog and Duck has been the scene  of some of my greatest triumphs, and disasters – as you are about to hear!

FX: FADE UP INTRO MUSIC THEN FADE DOWN UNDER TITLE

ANNOUNCER: We present Episode 1 of “Crudely, Badly, Cheaply” by Nigel Banks.

FX: X-FADE INTRO MUSIC WITH AMBIENT PUB NOISE

FRED: Wotcher, Jimmy. Pint of the usual, is it?

JIMMY: (Sound of coins chinking in his hand) Er, no it’ll have to be just a half I’m afraid. Bit skint at the present moment, as it happens. Unless, of course, you could sub me – I’ll pay you back as soon as, you can be sure.

FRED: Ah, now, Jimmy, you know me better than that. If I had a pound for every
time you’ve tried that one on, I’d be able to retire.

JIMMY: I’m cut to the quick, Fred, that you should question my integrity. I am one of your most loyal customers, continuing to patronise this  establishment while more fashionable wine-bars and brasseries have opened up in the neighbourhood. Not to mention The Feathers across the road being taken over by Wetherspoons and offering a pint for just over two quid. 

FRED: Leave it out! They haven’t a clue how to look after their ale in there. Never clean the pipes. You get what you pay for. Are you havin’ this drink, or what?

JIMMY: I’m deeply hurt that you don’t feel able to extend me some credit, Fred. Specially, when I’ve got an absolute cert running in the 3.30 at Kempton. I’ll
be quids in two hours from now and able to pay you back – with interest.

FRED: You and your “absolute certs”. Eternal optimist more like.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

Yes, sir, what can I get you?

ROGER: A white wine spritzer and a G&T, please.

FRED: Coming right up.

FX: SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED

JIMMY: Roger Soul, as I live and breathe! What you doing in here?

ROGER: Hello, Jimmy. It’s been a while. How you keeping?

JIMMY: Mustn’t grumble. Yourself?

ROGER: Yeah, good thanks. What you drinking?

JIMMY: Oh, nice one, Rog. Don’t mind if I do. Pint of Stella, please.

FRED: Here we are, sir. Spritzer and a G&T. That’ll be £13.62, please. 

ROGER: And a pint of Stella, please, for my friend here.

FRED: Luck of the devil, some people.

JIMMY: I prefer to think that good fortune always smiles on the virtuous, Fred.

FX: SOUND OF LAGER BEING POURED

FRED: Oh yeah. I heard Old Nick’s got a specially hot toasting fork ready to poke
you with, when you finally meet up with him down below. That’ll be £18.42,
please sir.

ROGER: There’s a twenty. Keep the change.

FRED: Thank you very much, sir. Your custom is very welcome – unlike some I 
could mention.

JIMMY: He loves me really. Cheers, Rog. Your very good health.

ROGER: Yeah, Happy Days.

FX: SOUND OF GLASSES BEING CLINKED AND DRINKS TAKEN

ROGER: So, what you up to these days, Jimmy?

JIMMY: Oh, this and that. Ducking and diving. You know how it is.

ROG: Same old Jimmy. You haven’t changed since we were at school. I bet you’re
going to touch me for a sub next, eh?

JIMMY: Ooh, that hurts, Rog. I should sue you for defamation of character. As it 
happens, I’m glad I bumped into you. I’ve got a tasty little business 
proposition for you. Can’t fail.

ROGER: I’ve heard that one before.

JIMMY: No, honest, Rog. This one’s gold-plated. It’s cushti.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

DENISE: What does a girl have to do to get a drink round here? I’m spitting feathers!

ROGER: I’m so sorry, my dear. Where’s my manners? Here you are, one white wine 
spritzer. Cheers!

FX: SOUND OF GLASSES CLINKING AND DRINKS TAKEN

DENISE: Cheers. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?

ROGER: Of course. Denise, this is an old school friend Jimmy McKiver. Jimmy,
Denise Cairney, my new P.A.

JIMMY: Pleased to meet you. How on earth did he manage to secure the services of such a lovely creature as yourself, Denise? I hope he’s paying you a decent salary.

DENISE: Charmed, I’m sure. He’s a smooth talker, isn’t he?

ROGER: Jimmy? Oh yeah, a birds off the tree merchant, if ever there was one.
Don’t let him fool you though. There’s less to him than meets the eye.

JIMMY: I see you haven’t lost that razor-sharp wit. Always good with a put-down, our Rog.

ROGER: I speak as I find, you know that. Got be straight-talking in my line of
business.

JIMMY: And what is your line of business these days, Rog? Last time we met 
you were dealing in stocks and shares, weren’t you?

ROGER: Oh yeah. I got out of that a while back. Too risky. The market became 
too volatile, especially Futures, which is what I was mainly dealing in.
I got into property development instead. Much safer bet.

JIMMY: That’s my Rog! Always knew when to quit when you were ahead. 

ROGER: Unlike you, if memory serves me right.

JIMMY: Ok, ok, guilty as charged. I’m more savvy these days – which is why I 
want to talk to you about that business opportunity.

DENISE: Cue for me to go and powder my nose, I think.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RECEDING

JIMMY: Phwoar! Poetry in motion!

ROGER: She’s way out of your league, Jimmy. Very smart cookie. I poached 
her from a rival outfit. She’ll be running a sizeable chunk of the
business eventually. Once I’ve trained her up.

JIMMY: You giving her one, then?

ROGER: Do you mind? I’m a married man.

JIMMY: And your point is?

ROGER: (TUTTING) I realized a long while ago that we have very different moral perspectives.

JIMMY: Come off it. You can’t tell me you’re not tempted.

ROGER: Even if I were, I never mix business with pleasure. Golden Rule.
Anyway, never mind that. What’s this business proposition? Sell it to
me. You’ve got till she comes back, so make it snappy.

JIMMY: Oh, right. Well, I’ve been looking for a gap in the market for some 
time, and I think I’ve found one. Came from an unlikely source – my dear old Ma. She had to go to a funeral the other week, so she gets her black dress out of the wardrobe, and it needs a spruce up. Can we find a dry cleaners in the neighbourhood? Nearest one’s in Chiswick, which is a helluva schlep. So, I do a bit of research and find that there’s only half a dozen dry cleaners still operating in the whole of North London. Big opportunity ‘cos there’s always bound to be a demand. Obviously there’ll be an outlay for the machines and finding the right premises to rent, but it’d be a gold-mine eventually. I just need a partner to invest...

ROGER: (CUTTING IN) How much?

JIMMY: Ah, well, I haven’t done the sums yet. So, off the top of my ‘ead...

ROGER: No, no, no....I don’t want guesswork. Do the maths, then come back to 
me with a proper business plan, all typed up, then we can sit down and have a proper meeting. See if this idea of yours has got legs.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RETURNING

Talking of which, time’s up, Jimmy. Give me a bell when you’re ready. Here’s my card. Make an appointment with Denise, here.

DENISE: What’s this?

ROGER: My friend Jimmy here’s going to give you a call in the near future to
set up a meeting.

DENISE: I look forward to hearing from you, Jimmy.

JIMMY: Likewise, I’m sure.

ROGER: And now, if you’ll excuse us Jimmy, we need to sit down and have a
private chat. Good to see you again.

JIMMY: Yeah, terrific. Laters, Rog.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS MOVING AWAY

(UNDER HIS BREATH) Poetry in motion!

FRED: Bet you you can’t pull her.

JIMMY: How much?

FRED: Fifty?

JIMMY: Fifty? That’s a bit steep. OK, you’re on!

FRED: (LAUGHING) Like taking sweets from a baby!

FX: X-FADE TO BACKGROUND MUSIC UNDER 
         VOICEOVER

JIMMY: So, I had Roger Soul’s interest in my business scheme, if not his actual financial backing – as yet. Now, if truth be told, I’m more of an ideas man myself. Balance sheets, sales projections and profit margins aren’t exactly my strong point. I’m going to need some help putting this business plan together. Fortunately, I was able to call on the  expert advice of Lemmy Arthur, who works behind the counter at my local bookies. Brilliant head for figures he has. I therefore run a few ideas up the financial flagpole with him in the pub one evening.

FX: X-FADE MUSIC WITH AMBIENT PUB NOISE

JIMMY: Whaddya think then, Lemmy. Is it a goer?

LEMMY: Difficult to say, Jimmy. Dry-cleaning’s not exactly my field, but  assuming you can find suitable premises to rent in an area with a decent footfall, and taking into consideration all yer other overheads, you’re going to need a good 20K to set it up.

JIMMY: 20K? You’re having a larf!

LEMMY: I’ve as good a sense of humour as the next man, but where money’s     concerned, I never joke.

JIMMY: Well, there’s no way Roger Soul’s going to put up that kind of money. And I’ve not got a pot to urinate in, so that’s put the kybosh on my
grand scheme.

LEMMY: I might be able to help you, Jimmy.

JIMMY: Oh yeah. How?

LEMMY: A mate of mine often gets hold of inside knowledge about runners and riders. On friendly terms with some of the top trainers. He tipped me the wink about some very likely winners next week. Now, as you know I’m not allowed to put bets on myself – more than my job’s worth, but if you was to do the honours in the shape of an accumulator, you could net yourself a tidy sum. 

JIMMY: Only if they all win, though. Helluva risk.

LEMMY: Well, you know the old adage...

JIMMY: (IN UNISON) “Speculate to accumulate”!  Yeah, yeah. Next week, you say? Doesn’t give me long to get a decent stake together. Go on, then – “in for a penny”, in for lots of pounds!

LEMMY: Right, well you get another round in while I write some names down. I’ll leave them tucked inside my Racing Post then go for a Jimmy Riddle. 

JIMMY: Ah, thanks, Lemmy. You’re a diamond.

FX: SOUND OF WRITING ON PAPER

LEMMY: Try to be discreet. Don’t for Gawd’s sake put the bet on in my shop. I can’t afford any of this to come back and bite me in the bum, if you win. Not that that’s likely to happen, knowing your luck!

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RECEDING & NEWSPAPER BEING OPENED

JIMMY: Two more pints, please Fred. Now, what we got here. Hm, right, yeah
know that horse...decent form. Don’t know that one, “Crackpot”...not exactly a promising moniker. “Crude Remark”...some owner must have a sense of humour. Running in the last race at Doncaster next Wednesday. “Bad Company”...hm, they were a rock band in the 70s, weren’t they? Might be a good omen. Running in the 2.15 at Lingfield. Then “Cheap Suit” in the first race at Carlisle. Plus another
two nags I’ve never heard of. Well, it’s a bit of a motley bunch but if
Lemmy thinks they’re go-ers, who am I quibble?

FRED: Two pints, Jim.

JIMMY: Thanks. ‘Ere, Fred, you know your horses. Whaddya think of these?

FRED: Let’s see, that one might do something, “Crackpot”? Nah, you’d have
to be cracked to back it. Thirty-three to one are good odds for a long-shot on “Crude Remark”. Don’t know the others. I don’t follow the  gee-gees as closely as I used to.

JIMMY: Why not?

FRED: Missus gave me an ultimatum. I was losing too much, so she told me it was either the bookies or her. No contest. You should find something more reliable to invest your money in.

JIMMY: That’s my plan, but I need a decent stake to get started.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

Blimey, you took your time. Thought you’d fallen down the plughole.

LEMMY: Had a dodgy curry last night. That new Indian on Priory Road. Guts’ve
been in turmoil ever since. Won’t be going back there again.

JIMMY: Swilling down pints of lager isn’t exactly going to help.

FX: SOUND OF DRINK BEING GULPED DOWN

LEMMY: (SLURPING) Kill or cure’s my motto. Well, I gotta shoot. See ya,
Jimmy. It’s been absolutely average, as ever. Good luck with the tips!

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RECEDING

JIMMY: (CALLING OUT) Yeah, “Later Alligator”! And thanks.

LEMMY: (FROM THE DOOR) If you win, I’ll expect agent’s commission.

JIMMY: In your dreams.

FX: X-FADE PUB NOISE WITH BACKGROUND MUSIC

(VOICEOVER) As it turned out, the “Turf Gods” were shining on me for once. I followed Lemmy’s instructions and put the bet on at a bookies south of the river. I decided to hedge my bets by just risking a treble on “Crude Remark”, “Bad Company” and “Cheap Suit”.  I’d managed to scrape together a decent stake by dint of taking out a loan from a local shark Maureen Greensmith. I’ve used her before on the odd occasion. She took over the business when her old man died and doesn’t charge the same exorbitant interest rates as the other sharks. Come the following Wednesday I’m on tenterhooks, specially as “Cheap Suit” strolls in by four lengths in the first race at Carlisle. By the time my first two selections have won, I can barely watch the screens in the bookies. Lemmy keeps giving me the eye from behind the counter as both of his tips come home. When “Crude Remark” lines up for the start of the last race of the day at Doncaster, I have to go outside. When the race is over, I ask this punter coming out who won. He tells me it’s not my nag and I’m gutted – so near, yet so far!

FX: X-FADE BACKGROUND MUSIC WITH PUB NOISE

jimmy: Pint please, Fred. And a Famous Grouse as well.

FRED: Celebrating, are we?

JIMMY: No, I’m in mourning.

FRED: Who for?

JIMMY: Myself, of course. I’m now in hock to Mo Greensmith for over a grand, including interest. With no prospects of settling the debt either.

FRED: (INTAKE OF BREATH) Ooh, not good. Mo can get nasty when folk welch on their debts. If she sends the boys round you could be sucking your food through a straw.

FX: SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED

JIMMY: Thanks, Fred. You’re a real ray of sunshine.

FRED: Now you know why I gave up betting. There’s your pint.

JIMMY: Ta. Might need to lay low for a while. I’ve heard Scotland’s nice at this time of year.

FRED: Plenty of Scotch up there – here’s your Grouse.

JIMMY: Cheers! What’s the damage?

FRED: You can have this “on the house”.

JIMMY: Ah, nice one, Fred. You’re a scholar and a gentleman.

FX: SOUND OF WHISKY BEING DRUNK

FRED: On one condition.

JIMMY: Sure.

FRED: Wherever you decide to go to ground, I don’t wanna know. Alright?
‘Cos if Mo Greensmith sends her boys round for a little chat to extract the information, I don’t wanna lose any of my fingernails. Got it?

JIMMY: My lips are sealed, Scout’s Honour.

FRED: You were never in the scouts, so that’s no comfort.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

LEMMY: Thought I’d find you in here celebrating, you Jammy Dodger!

JIMMY: “Celebrating”? Last rites, more like.

LEMMY: What? If I’d just won a packet, I think I’d be a bit chirpier.

JIMMY: I didn’t win though, did I? “Crude Remark” let me down. Got a few of
my own you can hear, as a result.

LEMMY: But it did win. Your ship’s come in.

JIMMY: Do what? How...I mean, what...?

LEMMY: There was a Steward’s Inquiry. Interference on the home stretch,
so “Crude Remark” was instated as the winner. You did it! You’ll have a tidy sum waiting for you.

JIMMY: (GOBSMACKED) Wow! I can’t believe it. You are sure, you’re not
having me on?

LEMMY: Course, I’m sure. I came out of the shop to tell you, but you’d already
scarpered. I assumed you knew and you’d gone off to collect your winnings.

JIMMY: (CALLING OUT) Hey, Fred! Pints all round – and more whisky.
He-hey! I’m rich!

FRED: What’s all this?

JIMMY: I won. Steward’s Inquiry at Doncaster. “Crude Remark” – you little 
beauty! You can keep your fingernails after all. In fact, I’ll buy you some varnish. What’s your favourite shade?

FRED: (LAUGHING) Don’t you dare! I’ll pour myself a brandy to toast your
good fortune, but that’s the end of it. 
 
FX: SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED

LEMMY: So, Jimmy, you still bent on opening this dry-cleaning business?

FX: SOUND OF GLASSES BEING CLINKED

JIMMY: Cheers, mate. You’re very good health. Couldn’t have done it without you. Yeah, I shall resist the temptation to do what I normally do on the odd occasion that I win and blow the lot in a weekend. I’ll be on the phone to the lovely Denise first thing tomorrow morning to set up a meeting with my old mate Roger Soul. And I’ll give you your agent’s commission soon as I get my winnings. Never let it be said that Jimmy
McKiver doesn’t honour his obligations.

LEMMY: Nah, forget it. The odd pint’ll do me.

JIMMY: You’re a truly beautiful human being, Lemmy. You know that? If I 
were a woman, I’d marry you.

LEMMY: I’m getting really worried about you, Jim. First it’s nail varnish for..
Fred, and now you’re proposing. I think you’d better go and have a  lie-down.

JIMMY: I will, just as soon as I’ve had a skinful and got myself properly 
legless!

FX: X-FADE PUB NOISE WITH BACKGROUND MUSIC

JIMMY: Which is what I did. Woke up next morning with those little men hammering away with pneumatic drills behind my eyes and my mouth like the inside of a tram driver’s glove. It was afternoon before I got to collect my winnings, then paid the cheque for nearly ten grand into the bank. I was compos mentis enough by this time to have made sure I had proof of the legitimate origin of such a large sum. Can’t be too careful these days with all the money laundering that goes on.  Then I gave the lovely Denise a call, as promised, and fixed up a meeting the following Monday morning, ten o’clock sharp.

FX: X-FADE BACKGROUND MUSIC WITH FOOTSTEPS
         FOLLOWED BY A KNOCK ON AN OFFICE DOOR

DENISE: Come in.

JIMMY: Mornin’, Denise. Jimmy Mac reporting for duty.

DENISE: Ah, Mr McKiver. Do take a seat.

JIMMY: Ta. No Rog?

DENISE: Mr Soul is away on business this week, so he’s asked me to handle
your case.

JIMMY: Case? Have I wandered into a solicitor’s by accident?

DENISE: Just a turn of phrase, Mr McKiver. Though I do have a law degree.

JIMMY: We’re being very formal this morning...Mr McKiver, Mr Soul.

DENISE: Mr Soul made it clear that while his personal relationship with you
goes back many years, this is a business meeting and so he advised
me that we should keep our conversation on a professional level.

JIMMY: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Bang goes my fifty quid.

DENISE: Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.

JIMMY: Oh nothing. Not important.

DENISE: Shall we get started then? Have you brought your proposed business
plan with you?

JIMMY: Yeah, I jotted a few numbers down.

FX: SOUND OF PAPER BEING TAKEN OUT OF POCKET
         AND UNFOLDED 

DENISE: You didn’t make an extra copy so we could both read it at the same 
time?

JIMMY: Er no, sorry. My, er...printer’s knackered.

DENISE: You’d better let me have a look then. Talk me through it.

FX: SOUND OF CHAIR BEING PUSHED BACK AND  FOOTSTEPS

JIMMY: Right, I’ll just come round the other side of the desk and stand behind
you. Be easier that way. Right, so as you can see, I’ve listed all the
initial outlay we’d need for equipment, and likely rental costs for the
premises plus other necessary expenditure on installing phone line, 
advertising and other start-up overheads. That’s a really lovely 
perfume you’re wearing, by the way. What’s it called?

DENISE: Is that relevant?

JIMMY: Well, it could be – for future reference. (IN HER EAR) If I wanted to
buy a bottle as a gift for a very beautiful woman.

DENISE: Would you mind removing your hand from my waist, please, Mr McKiver? Not acceptable. 

JIMMY: Oh, I’m sorry. Can’t blame a chap for trying.

DENISE: Mr Soul warned me you might get a bit...frisky. So, I think the best 
way forward would be for you to leave your “in-depth” business plan with me. I’ll give it due consideration and make my recommendation  to Mr Soul when he returns. Thank you. Good day, Mr McKiver.

FX: FADE UP BACKGROUND MUSIC

JIMMY: That didn’t quite go according to plan. Talk about being sent away  with a flea in your ear. So, I just had to wait to hear the outcome when  Roger Soul got back from his trip, wherever that was. Probably playing golf on the Algarve. The omens weren’t good, though. Lady Luck seemed to be teasing me – giving with one hand, then taking away with the other. In the meantime, I needed to settle my debts with Mo Greensmith. So, I make the necessary withdrawal of funds from my now very healthy bank account and hot-foot it over to her office in Maida Vale. My plan was to pay my dues as quickly as possible and make a swift exit, ‘cos there’s something about Mo Greensmith I find deeply unnerving. She’s always calm and polite, but she has these piercing blue eyes and it’s like she can reach inside your head and tell exactly what you’re thinking before you’ve even had the thought.

FX: X-FADE BACKGROUND MUSIC WITH SOUND OF A DOOR OPENING AND FOOTSTEPS ENTERING

MO: Hello, Jimmy. Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.

JIMMY: I don’t like being in hock, so thought I’d settle up pronto.

MO: That was quick. Didn’t give me much chance to make something on 
the interest payments.

JIMMY: Sorry about that, Mrs Greensmith. I had a bit of good fortune and so
I’m able to pay it all off straight away.

MO: So I heard. Nice little treble came up trumps for you.

JIMMY: (TAKEN ABACK) News travels fast.

MO: You can’t keep anything a secret for long in this manor. And Grandma
here has very big ears.

JIMMY: Your ears aren’t big, Mrs Greensmith, they’re...they’re the right size.

MO: (AMUSED BY HIS GAUCHENESS) Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy. What are we going to do with you? You need taking in hand. Have you got a woman at the moment?

JIMMY: Er...no, as it happens.

MO: Well, with your new-found wealth, you’ll be quite a catch. Just smarten yourself up a bit, get some new threads – God knows, you can afford to now. (COMING CLOSER) You’re not bad looking, in a crumpled sort of way. Yes, you’ll do very nicely, Jimmy.

JIMMY: ‘Ere, now, Mrs Greensmith. You’re making me nervous.

MO: (FLIRTING) What’s with this Mrs Greensmith? Call me Mo, for Heaven’s sake. We’ll just get the business side out of the way, and  then we can celebrate your good fortune. Relax, I don’t bite!

JIMMY: (FLUSTERED) Yeah, no...It’s fine, Mrs...er, Mo. Here’s the money.

FX: SOUND OF ENVELOPE BEING HANDED OVER

It’s all there.

MO: Thanks. I think we need a drink to toast your success. Scotch?

JIMMY: It’s a bit early for me, er Mo.

MO: Nonsense.

FX: SOUND OF DRINK BEING POURED INTO TWO GLASSES

There you go.

JIMMY: Aren’t you going to count it?

MO: No, I trust you. Chin-chin!

FX: SOUND OF GLASSES BEING CLINKED

But, if you did ever short-change me, I’d break your balls!

JIMMY: (WORRIED) No, no, I’d never do that, Mo. Honest!

MO: (LAUGHING) I’m joking, Jimmy. Gawd, the look on his little face!

JIMMY: Phew! You had me worried for a minute there.

MO: You had the look of your old man, then. 

JIMMY: You knew my dad?

MO: Oh yeah. We met at the local disco. 1967, it would be – “The Summer of Love”. We were young and fancy-free. Good dancer, your dad. We went on a few dates. He wasn’t a bad kisser either. But then he met Irene, your mother, so we didn’t see much of each other after that. Moved in different circles. I went with a few different lads, sowed some wild oats, then met Benny Greensmith – and the rest, as they say...

JIMMY: Is history. I didn’t know about any of that.

MO: Why would you? It was a long time ago. Let me top you up.

JIMMY: I shouldn’t really. I got plastered last night.

FX: SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED

MO: Go on, it’ll do you good. Hair of the dog and all that. Cheers!

JIMMY: Bottoms up!

FX: SOUND OF GLASSES BEING CLINKED

MO: Let’s sit down on my comfy sofa with our drinks. So, what you’re going to do with all this money you’ve won. New motor, trip to the Bahamas? What’s it going to be?

JIMMY: No, I’m being sensible. Starting up a dry-cleaning business. Well, hoping to. I’m waiting to hear if an old school pal of mine is going to come in with me. He’s away at the moment, but I’m hoping he’ll give my business plan the green light when he gets back.

MO: Roger Soul’s your man, I believe.

JIMMY: How do you know about him?

MO: Oh, I know all about Mr Soul. We go way back. I’m well-acquainted with his business operations. I could put a word in, if you like?

JIMMY: That’s very generous of you, Mo, but I wouldn’t want to put any undue
pressure on Rog, er Mr Soul. Why don’t we wait till he gives me his...

JIMMY: ...decision, before doing anything...er, hasty?

MO: Okay, Jimmy. Whatever you say. But I’m here, if you need me.

JIMMY: Thanks, Mo. That’s..erm..a great... It’s...er, good to know. Cheers!

FX: X-FADE BACKGROUND MUSIC WITH PUB AMBIENCE                                        FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

LEMMY: Aye, aye, here he comes: the man who broke Joe Coral’s heart! Mine’s
a pint, Jimmy, as you’re in the chair. What about you, Fred? I’m sure
Mr McKiver will want to treat his favourite landlord.

FRED: I won’t indulge just now, if you don’t mind, but I’ll put myself a double brandy behind the bar for later. What’re you on, Jimmy?

JIMMY: Just a ginger beer, please, Fred.

FRED: You sickening for something? The sun’s past the yard-arm, you know.

FX: SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED

JIMMY: Had a skinful here last night, as you well know, then I went on to Scarfe’s Bar in Holborn till well after two, so my system needs a bit of R&R, right?

LEMMY: Hair of the dog, mate, hair of the dog!

JIMMY: Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

LEMMY: Necked a prairie oyster at home, did ya?

JIMMY: Nah, I went to see Mo Greensmith. Thought I’d pay her what I owed her sooner rather than later and she insisted we toast my success. 

FRED: Here’s your drinks, lads. Wise move that, Jimmy. 

JIMMY: Yeah, I thought so. There’s a twenty. Keep the change. Still doesn’t feel right.

FRED: Ta.

FX: SOUND OF CASH REGISTER

How d’ya mean?

JIMMY: Well, she was being all sweetness and light with me – even flirting with me...

LEMMY: Beware of the cougar, Jimmy.

JIMMY: I know, and by re-paying what I owed her so quickly, I was doing her out of her profit, so you’d expect her to be more miffed.

FRED: Yeah, I should give Mo a wide berth, if I were you. She must have some ulterior motive.

JIMMY: Also, she already knew about my win and about me wanting to open the dry-cleaning business with Roger Soul. It’s like she’s got spies everywhere.

LEMMY: You sure about this dry-cleaning lark? You must be “hard-pressed” to wanna do it! (LAUGHS AT OWN JOKE)

JIMMY: What’s so funny about it?

LEMMY: Don’t you get it? “Hard-pressed” – dry-cleaners?

JIMMY: Oh right, yeah, hilarious. You oughta be down the Comedy Store – not!

FRED: Joking aside, you wanna be careful, the pair of you.

LEMMY: What’ve I got to be careful about?

FRED: Passing on inside info about runners and riders in a public place to
plonkers like him. As he said, Mo’s got narks everywhere and if she finds out the source, i.e.: Mr Lemmy “Doolally” Arthur, is using my pub as his gossip-shop, I could get it in the neck as well.

LEMMY: Alright, Fred, keep your hair on. I only did it the once. Everything’s cushti!

FX: SOUND OF MOBILE RINGTONE

JIMMY: Hello, Jimmy McKiver, who is this?

MO: It’s me, Jimmy. Just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our little tete-a-tete earlier and to wish you good luck with your business venture.

JIMMY: Oh, thanks, Mrs G. Very kind of you.

MO: See you around, Jimmy. Oh, and give my regards to Fred and Lemmy.

JIMMY: (TAKEN ABACK) Yeah, will do.

FX: SOUND OF CALL ENDING

LEMMY: What was all that about?

JIMMY: It was Mo wishing me good luck with the dry-cleaners and sending you and Fred her regards.

LEMMY: But how did she know...?

JIMMY: Like I said...spies everywhere. 

FRED: We’d better watch our backs, gentlemen.

LEMMY: I’d knock this dry-cleaning malarkey on the head, if I were you. More trouble than it’s worth. Treat yourself to a holiday abroad instead. I hear Barbados is nice, this time of year. Not as though you can’t afford it, Jimmy!

JIMMY: It’s tempting, Lem, but I’m sort of committed now. In fact, I’ll just give Rog a bell and see where we’re at.

FX: SOUND OF KEYPAD BEING TAPPED THEN RINGTONE  FOLLOWED BY RECORDED MESSAGE

ROGER: “You’ve reached Roger Soul’s number. I’m not able to take your call at present as I’m out of the country. I can access emails if it’s urgent. If Jimmy McKiver is calling, I’m not in a position to come to a decision regarding our venture until I hear from Denise about your meeting with her. Thank you. Goodbye.

FX: SOUND OF CALL ENDING

Well, that’s torn it.

LEMMY: What has?

JIMMY: I think the dry-cleaners might be down the drain after all.

LEMMY: Why?

JIMMY: Rog is waiting on his P.A’s report about my business plan and, well, not to put too fine a point on it...

Crudely, Badly, Cheaply 20.
Nigel Banks

FRED: (CUTTING IN) You’re stuffed! 

JIMMY: Yeah, looks like it.

FRED: And you owe me fifty quid.

JIMMY: No, no, no...The bet’s not over yet till...

FRED: That fat lady’s getting ready to warble. You ain’t got long.

JIMMY: Cut me some slack, Fred, please. I’ve got more important things to worry about.

LEMMY: Blimey, more serious than winning a bet?

JIMMY: Very much so. Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’m going for a lie-down and to consider my future.

FX: SOUND OF GLASS BEING PUT DOWN ON THE BAR  FOOTSTEPS RECEDING

FRED: Not like our usual Jimmy. Don’t know what’s come over him.

LEMMY: It’s winning all that money. I’ve seen it before. It does strange things to people. Anyway, I’d better be off as well.

FX: SOUND OF DRINK BEING DRAINED AND GLASS PUT DOWN ON THE BAR

See ya, Fred.

FRED: Yeah, laters Lemmy. Oh and, remember what I said. Watch your back. I’ve got a bad feeling in my waters about this. I think Jimmy could be walking into a whole heap of trouble and we don’t wanna get caught up in the cross-fire.

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RECEDING. X-FADE TO MUSIC FADE DOWN AFTER 10 SECONDS FOR CLOSING CREDITS THEN FADE UP MUSIC FOR 15 SECONDS

ANNOUNCER: In Episode One of “Crudely, Badly, Cheaply” by Nigel Banks, the role of Jimmy McKiver was played by Mike Rivarno, Roger Soul by Jim Newberry, Fred Lees by Mike Ayris, Lemmy Arthur by Nigel Banks, Denise Cairney by Emma Willetts and Mo Greensmith by S-J Vant. Recording, Sound Effects and Editing were done by Robbie Burgess and the show was produced by Nigel Banks. This was an Old Dolly production.