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UPDATED: 27/07/01  


SIT-COMS BASED UPON THE LIFE OF FRED WEST
10. The Madman's Family
9. Are You Being Harmed?
8. Gouge And Mildred
7. Man Behaving Madly
6. Dad's Barmy
5. Absolutely Stab-u-lous
4. Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em
3. It Don't 'Alf Hurt Mum
2. Drop The Dead Daughter (In The Hole)
1. Only Fred And Corpses


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Previous Result
GUYS ONLY POLL
Which of these characteristics are most important in a partner?

Good sense of humour 20%
Non-smoker 8%
Blonde hair 7%
Pierced nipples 13%
Must be able to make a noise like a dolphin 50%

total votes

812

Previous Result
GIRLS ONLY POLL
Which of these characteristics are most important in a partner?

Owns his own house

4%

High income 13%
Prehensile tail 20%
Convicted murder 15%
Lives in a piano 45%

total votes

344

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KNIFE AND WIFE
UNUSED FIRST EPISODE
by Paul Rose, 1999


INT. GEORGEíS HALL. DAY

The pretty hallway of a life-long batchelor. GEORGE, fifty-ish, absurd of toupee, and dressed in pinafore and slippers, answers the door. Standing in the open doorway is a chicken dressed in a smart blazer. This is KNIFE.

KNIFE
Iím not going to beat about the bush here, George. I know youíve got my mower and I want it back.

GEORGE
I havenít got your mower.

KNIFE
Yes you have, George.

GEORGE
I have not. 

He slams the door.

EXT. GEORGEíS HOUSE. DAY

Outside Georgeís smart detached house, the door slams in Knifeís face.

KNIFE
(muttering)
Stupid... wig-wearing mower thief.

INT. GEORGEíS SHED. DAY

This cluttered shed is being ransacked by a furious Knife. He pauses upon the opening of the door.

GEORGE
(baffled)
What are you doing in my shed?

KNIFE
I want my mower back, George.

GEORGE
Seriously, I donít have it.

Knife violently kicks a shelf over, spilling tins of paint and some tools onto the floor.

KNIFE
Why must you insist on lying to me, George?

GEORGE
(shouting)
I donít have your mower, Mr Knife! For the last time of telling you - I donít have your mower!

KNIFE
And thatís your final word is it?

GEORGE
Yes.

KNIFE
(impossibly darkly)
So be it.

INT. KNIFEíS KITCHEN. DAY

The kitchen: immaculate and Laura Ashley, but for the prints of steam trains adorning the walls. JANINE, long-suffering wife of Knife, struggles into the kitchen with several heavy bags of shopping. She places them on a work, and retrieves a box of milk chocolates from one. She begins to open the box, but is interrupted by the ringing of the phone. She retrieves the cordless handset from the wall.

JANINE
(selecting a choc) 
Hello.

KNIFE
(v/o)
Darling, itís me. Thereís been an incident.

Close in on the box of chocolates. Janine traces a finger along the Ďinventoryí, which features such delights as "FONDANT DYNAMO", "THE POWER OF STRAWB", "POTATO MUNCHKIN 47" and "DANGEROUS PROMISE". 

JANINE
Where are you?

KNIFE
(v/o)
Darling, Iím in the bloody gaol. The police station.

Still on the box of chocs, Janine selects a "TOFFEE FIST". She pops it into her mouth.

JANINE
What are you doing there?

Janine, munching on choc, wanders over to the kitchen window and pulls back the nets. In the neighbouring garden lies the smouldering ruins of a recently-incinerated shed. A pair of firemen spray water onto whatís left, watched by a troubled George.

KNIFE
(v/o)
I burnt down that swineís shed for stealing my mower, and he went and called the authorities. Itís an outrage. I intend to sue.

A beat. Janine munches.

I do hope youíre not eating, Janine. You know I canít stand it when you eat over the phone.

EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY

Janineís Little Car speeds past shoppers and shops.

INT. JANINEíS CAR. DAY

Janine is driving. Knife is sitting in the passengerís seat, bitterly.

JANINE
I wish youíd control your temper.

KNIFE
How am I expected to remain calm when our neighbour is stealing the appliances?

JANINE
He didnít steal your mower.

KNIFE
Thatís it. Take his side.

JANINE
The mower is in the electrical cupboard.

Knife pauses, and turns to face his wife.

KNIFE
I beg your pardon?

JANINE
Itís in the electrical cupboard. Under the stairs.

KNIFE
In the electrical cupboard? Under the stairs?

INT. ELECTRICAL CUPBOARD. DAY

Darkness. Until Knife opens the cupboard from outside. He stares in at the cluttered contents with some bafflement.

EXT. KNIFEíS HALLWAY. DAY

Knife and Janine peer into the cupboard. The hallway is Laura Ashley writ large.

JANINE
I put it in there last week. 

KNIFE
Pray tell why?

JANINE
I was tidying up.

KNIFE
Mowers belong outside, Janine. Along with ponds, ferns and tramps.

JANINE
A tidy home is a happy home.

KNIFE
Whatís that got to do with anything? Thanks to you I now have a police caution.

JANINE
Two police cautions.

KNIFE
(quickly, nastily)
Shut up. (Heís spotted something else in there: a model steam train.) What is this...? (He retrieves the train, aghast.) A mower is one thing, Janine, but I cannot believe you put the Edinburgh Flyer in the cupboard. This belongs on the mantle. (He cradles the train as if it were an infant.) Idiot woman.

INT. GEORGEíS HALLWAY

George answers his door. Janine is there.

GEORGE
Oh, hello, Janine.

JANINE
Hello, George. I wanted to apologise about the shed. Knife has promised to buy you a new one.

KNIFE
(o/s)
Apparently.

GEORGE
No problem. No hard feelings.

Knife appears.

KNIFE
But if you ever do steal my mower, Iíll not only burn down your shed - Iíll upend your gnomes.

GEORGE
You wouldnít dare.

Smiling, Knife backs away up Georgeís path, past rows of garden gnomes.

WIFE
Stop it, Knife. 

KNIFE
Oh, Iíll stop it all right. Iíll stop it good.

He chuckles, evily. Then disappears around the corner.

GEORGE
Do you fancy a cup of tea, Janine?

JANINE
Not really.

EXT. KNIFEíS HOUSE. NIGHT

Looking across from Knifeís bedroom into Georgeís bedroom window. George is bald, naked, and brushing his toupee.

INT. KNIFE & JANINEíS BEDROOM. NIGHT

Knife looks out of the window at George. Janine is in bed reading a novel. Knife is wearing crisp pyjamas.

KNIFE
Look at him. Grooming that thing like itís a dog.

JANINE
George is a very nice man. You just make sure you get him that shed.

Knife pulls a sarcastic face, and mumbles a few words of sarcasm: "Shed", "Wig", "Cactus", "Up Arse". He comes away from the window and closes the curtains.

KNIFE
What are you reading anyway, woman?

JANINE
A romantic novel.

KNIFE
Another one? Does it feature descriptions of nudity and sexus?

JANINE
A little.

Furious, Knife snatches the book and runs with it out of the room. We hear a toilet flushing. Janine withdraws an identical book from a bedside table drawer. 

KNIFE
We shall not read smut, Janine.

INT. DIY SUPERSTORE. DAY

Knife wanders along a towering aisle of paint tins, accompanied by his brother-in-law CHARLTON.

KNIFE
Sheís not been the same since I got her those library tickets. Youíre her twin. You must know why she reads these awful things. 

CHARLTON
Who are we talking about again?

KNIFE
Janine. How many twins do you have?

CHARLTON
I donít understand the question. Sorry...

KNIFE
It astonishes me, Charlton, how anything can be as lame as you and successfully make it to adulthood. 

CHARLTON
Whoís done the what to who now?

Shaking his head, Knife takes a tin of paint off a shelf and examines the labelling.

KNIFE
"Afterglow Puce"... What would look like in my bathroom?

CHARLTON
Where in your bathroom?

KNIFE
On the walls. Where do you think I mean?

CHARLTON
Oh, youíre going to hang it on the wall. I thought you could put it on the window sill as a sort of ornament. Some flowers in a lump of oasis, a peacock feather or two. You know - like what ponces do.

KNIFE
Iím going to paint it on my bathroom wall, dolt.

CHARLTON
Like a mural, you mean.

KNIFE
(a withering look)
Letís buy this accursed shed and get out of here.

INT. LIBRARY. DAY

Janine approaches the checking out desk, carrying more shopping. A handsome young man, BRAD, is stamping books. Janine is clearly smitten and embarassed.

JANINE
Excuse me...

Brad looks up and smiles at her. His smile gleams like a search light, practically blinding Janine. She shields her eyes.

Uh..

BRAD
Can I help you? (Janine hands over a romantic novel. Brad recognises her.) Oh, hello, Mrs Knife. Fifth time this week. You must be a real fast reader. (Janine giggles girlishly.) I love books. I just canít get enough of Ďem. Big books, small books - all kinds of books for me.

JANINE
(quietly)
I bet you read lovely books.

BRAD
Mmm? (Janine merely stares at him. He picks up the book.) Er... so, you want to check this out? (She nods in wordless infatuation.) No problemo, Mrs K.

He stamps the book. Janine suddenly strokes his hand. He looks up, stunned by this breach of protocol. Embarassed, Janine grabs her book and rushes out of the library, dropping a tin can as she goes. Brad steps from behind the counter and retrieves the can. He chases out of the library.

EXT. LIBRARY. DAY

Janine is running down the street. Brad exits and calls after her.

BRAD
You forgot your prunes, Mrs K!

He launches the prunes through the air. The tin hits Janine on the back of the head, knocking her into unconciousness and causing dozens more tins of prunes to spill out of her bags as she drops to the ground. Brad looks guilty.

INT. DIY SUPERSTORE. DAY

The shed department. Surrounded by sheds, Charlton and Knife are being attended to by a nervous and spotty DIY store YOUTH.

YOUTH
Of these sheds, we... have... several... types...

KNIFE
Yes, and?

YOUTH
(bursting into tears)
Iím sorry... I canít go on. 

KNIFE
Whatís all this?

CHARLTON
Yeah, whatís the big joke here?

YOUTH
Iím not laughing. Iím crying. Look.

He points to his tears.

KNIFE
Well make it stop. Iím trying to purchase a shed.

YOUTH
Iím sorry. Itís just that... you...(he sobs uncontrollably) You... remind me of someone. Someone special.

Knife is speechless and baffled. A senior member of staff, MR ROSTRUM, appears.

ROSTRUM
Is there a problem?

CHARLTON
This feller here keeps laughing at us. Weíre only trying to buy a shed, man.

KNIFE
(irritated)
Heís crying, Charlton. I supposedly remind him of someone.

Rostrum clocks Knife for the first time, and is stunned

ROSTRUM
Sweet mother of God. (He begins to well up, and can barely take his eyes off of the chicken man. A hand goes to his gaping mouth.) This cannot be. Itís the most extraordinary...(Rostrum bursts into tears, and hugs the Youth for comfort. Knife is unsettled.)

INT. LIBRARY STOREROOM. DAY

A small room at the rear of the library. We fade in as Janine opens her eyes, to find the delicious Brad sitting over her, mopping her brow.

BRAD
Hold still, Mrs K. You had quite an accident.

JANINE
Where am I? 

Janine looks around her. Sheís surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books - big and small. Brad walks among them, running his fingers tenderly along their spines.

BRAD
This is the library stockroom. I often come back here to escape the pressures of my work as a librarian. Sometimes I like to sit and just look at the books. Other times I lay down, or rest against the wall. Sometimes, when no-one is looking, I like to rub up against the books, infrequently bringing piles down on top of myself, while calling out the names of my former lovers... (An embarassed beat.) I stacked your prunes for you. (He indicates the prunes stacked in a neat pyramid.)

JANINE
(quickly)
Oh theyíre not mine. Theyíre for my hus... kie.

BRAD
Boy, Iíd sure like to be your dog. I adore prunes.

Janine starts crying.

JANINE
Why canít he be more like you?

Brad crouches beside Janine, and takes her hand tenderly.

BRAD
Because heís just a dog.

INT. DIY SUPERSTORE. DAY

Still at the sheds, Knife and Charlton now find themselves surrounded by a dozen or more DIY store employees, all crying their eyes out, some joyously. Knife is feeling persecuted and paranoid.

CHARLTON
(irritated)
At least let us in on the joke, lads.

EXT. DIY STORE CAR PARK. DAY

A shed is squeezed through the doors of the store into the car park, buckling the doors in the process. Doing the pushing is the full compliment of tearful staff, and Charlton. 

INT. SHED. DAY

The shed rocks around, throwing Knife from side to side.

EXT. DIY STORE CAR PARK. DAY

Knife is attaching a rope to the rear bumper of his Large Car. 

CHARLTON
They were going to give us the shed for free, Knife. You didnít have to pay, mate.

KNIFE
Iím not accepting gratis sheds from anyone. The minute you start toying with the foundations of economy is the minute society crumbles into the sea and explodes. There.

He stands back. The shed is attached to the rope.

CHARLTON
They were going to deliver it.

Knife looks over at the nearby crowd of DIY store staff. Some of them wave. The rest look on at Knife, almost reverently.

KNIFE
(worried)
I didnít want them knowing where I live.

CHARLTON
You couldíve given a false address. Something like... number sixty nine Bosoms Lane.

KNIFE
Get in the car, Charlton.

As Charlton clambers into the passengerís seat, we pan up and over to the DIY store itself. Atop it is a huge strucure, atop of which is an aircraft control tower-style booth. Close in.

INT. CONTROL ROOM. DAY

A shadowy, cloaked figure sits in a large chair, surrounded by banks of blinking computer equipment. We shall call him DOCTOR KLAW. A central viewing screen depicts Knifeís departure from the car park, dragging the shed behind him and being waved off by the store staff.

KLAW
Those pitiful fools. See how they fawn and sop. Little do they realise that soon enough their world will be turned inside out... 

He begins to laugh, a laugh which builds in megalomaniacal intensity until the viewscreen changes to show the face of a trembling ASSISTANT 

ASSISTANT
Doctor Klaw?

KLAW
How dare you interrupt my insane hysteria?

ASSISTANT
Iím sorry, sir, but we have an emergency in Sector Omega.

A beat. The assistant holds up a pair of boxes. One is empty, the other filled with screws.

Weíve run out of three inch screws, and weíve over-ordered on the four and a half inch.

Klaw sits forward, and we see his face for the first time. His teeth are yellowed and distended. He wears a sort of vintage WWI leather pilotís helmet, with a large letter "K" on the forehead, and a long cape. He has a patch over one eye, and a big robotic claw for one hand. Most curiously, his nose resembles a tap.

KLAW
(horrified)
No, this cannot be. This could ruin everything. Damn you! Damn you all to Hellllllllll!

EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY

Knifeís car speeds around a bend. The shed bumps along behind, kicking up sparks. Further along the road, a police car sits in a layby.

INT. POLICE CAR. DAY

Two British cops speak in American accents and eat donuts, clearly believing themselves to be in an episode of TJ Hooker. In the back of the car is a plain looking CRIMINAL, in cuffs, ignoring the copsí taunts.

COP 1
Youíve done it this time, Joey. 

COP 2
(throwing a donut at Joey the criminal)
Too goddamn right. Stealing lemons from an old folkís home. Theyíre going to send you to the chair for this one, Joey. 

COP 1
Uh... The chair?

COP 2
The electric frigging chair.

COP 1
Iím not too sure about that, man. Not in this country.

COP 2
Well... theyíre sure as hell going to make you... sit... on rickety old prison chairs, Joey.

COP 1
Frigginí A. Those rickety old freakiní chairs. Old freaky.

Knifeís car speeds past. The cops react.

EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY

Knifeís car speeds around a bend. Close in on the shed. The sparks cause it to catch alight. It bursts into flame. A police carís sirens get closer.

INT. KNIFEíS CAR. DAY

Knife checks his wing mirror. He sees the police car approaching.

CHARLTON
I think the police want to get us. Perhaps we should stop.

KNIFE
And get my third caution of the week? To hell with the justice system!

He accelerates.

EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY

Now dragging a fireball behind it, Knifeís car pulls away from the police. Close in on the rope connecting it to the bumper, as the flames lick their way along it.

INT. POLICE CAR. DAY

COP 1
(driving)
What the freak is that mother doing? Heís dragging some kinda minature sun behind him. Perhaps it actually is The Sun, and that guy has stolen it. He could ruin photosynthesis for everyone!

COP 2
If only they gave us guns. I could shoot that freakster in the freakiní eye.

EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY

Knifeís car speeds around a bend. The rope, practically burnt-through, snaps, sending the fireball careening into a van delivering lemons to the "JOE PASQUALE MEMORIAL RETIREMENT HOME". As the van explodes, the burning DRIVER bursts from the cab. He turns towards the Ďcameraí.

DRIVER
Holy cow - Iím aflame!

He runs into the old folks home, setting it alight as he does so.

Help me, old ones.

Windows explode in flame as he runs up and down along the length of the building. Within seconds it has burned completely to the ground. The police car pulls up outside.

COP 1
You goddamn idiot. You let him get away.

COP 2
Youíre the one who just stopped the car.

COP 1
Yeah, well... when I saw the flames I got confused and thought my eyebrows were on fire again.

COP 2
Flames? (spotting the smouldering ruins) Oh my God! That entire building has burned down.

COP 1
Letís get out of here before we get blamed!

COP 2
Heh heh. Weíll say it was the lemon thief. Ainít that right, Joey? (he turns - Joey is gone, his door open) Joey?

The cops watch Joey run across the street and hide feebly behind a post box.

COP 1
Hey, whereíd he go?

INT. THE CHAPEL. DAY

A vast, towering, gothic-style room, full of impossibly high stacks of books, illuminated by candles. Janine and Brad walk through, their footsteps echoing into infinity.

BRAD
We call this The Chapel, Janine. 

JANINE
Whoíd have thought you could fit all this below an ordinary borough library?

BRAD
We keep our forbidden texts down here.

He pulls a leather-bound, dusty volume from the shelf, and hands it to Janine. She reads the title.

JANINE
"The Dirty Draughtsman by Barbara Cartland".

BRAD
That particular edition is bound in human flesh. (Janine drops the book in horror) Look around you, Janine. Look at these books. The sum of human knowledge in words and sometimes pictures, and sometimes even pop-up. (Janine stares into his eyes. There are tears in them.) Libraries gave us power, Janine. Then work came and made us free. What price now for a shallow piece of dignity?

JANINE
Oh, Brad. Youíre so deep. So unlike...

BRAD
Your huskie?

JANINE
I... I have to tell you something, Brad.

BRAD
Tell me over a cup of oily tea. (They smile. We hear violins and angels singing beautifully. Brad turns to the source of the sound: a group of TRAMPS with violins in a cage) Shut up, you ugly tramps.

The tramps stop their fiddling and singing.

EXT.HIGH STREET. DAY

Knife and Charlton wander along the pavement, looking defeated.

KNIFE
If I donít go back home with a shed, Iíll never hear the end of it. Your sister can be an evil sow when she wants to. 

CHARLTON
Janine?

KNIFE
Yes. Janine. Your only sister.

CHARLTON
(chuckling)
But sheís a big soppy pussy. (Knife rolls his eyes.) Díyou fancy a pint, Knife?

Knife suddenly disappears through a doorway beside a launderette. The door slams in Charltonís face.

INT. THE CLUB - STAIRWAY. DAY

Knife ascends a narrow, velvet staircase. 

INT. THE CLUB. DAY

An exclusive gentlemensí drinking establishment. Golf clubs and pictures of golfers and celebrities adorn the walls. Two pompous idiots sit at a table with a decanter of whisky, each with a half-full glass in hand. One is RORY, the other is BUFFY.

RORY
Snakes, Buffy. Snakes, I say. They come over here with their hissing and a-hussing, set themselves up comfortably in zoos, taking spaces that would otherwise have gone to decent, indiginous species...

BUFFY
Dogs.

RORY
Like dogs. I ask you - what have snakes ever contributed to the greater good? They come over here, all hiss-huss and in zoos etcetera, and they spend all day draped over logs, baking under a hot lamp, being looked at by so-called visitors. If I had my way, and when Iím elected to council I will have my way damn it, Iíll get those snakes and shove them right up your arse.

BUFFY
(surprised)
Why up my arse, Rory?

Rory downs his drink, bitterly.

KNIFE
Hello, lads.

Knife has appeared.

RORY
Ah, Knifey. Pull up a pew. (Knife does) I was telling old Buffy here what I thought of the snakes.

BUFFY
(concerned)
Heís going to shove them up my arse, apparently. 

KNIFE
I need a drink, Rory. Quickly now.

Rory pours him a drink.

RORY
You look terrible, old boy. Care to share?

KNIFE
Iíve got to find a shed, or the wifeís going to flip.

RORY
Shed you say? I know just the place...

Knife and Rory rub their chins. Or hanging red "flange" in the formerís case.

EXT. PUCKLES NEWS & CHEWS. DAY

Knife stands outside. Something in the window of this newsagents has his interest. He inspects the customer notices. He sees one that appeals to him. It reads: "SHEDS FOR SALE: £5 - ASK INSIDE". 

INT. PUCKLES NEWS & CHEWS. DAY

MR PUCKLES, the owner, is a sorry fellow, busy stacking cigarettes back onto the shelves. Knife enters and approaches the counter. He coughs to get Pucklesí attention. Puckles, shaven of temples, speaks through the corners of his mouth, spraying anyone in the vicinity with spittle.

PUCKLES
Hello, sir. Can I help you, sir?

KNIFE
(wiping spittle from his beak)
Sheds for sale. Five pounds. Details, please.

PUCKLES
Sheds... sheds sheds sheds.

KNIFE
Yes, well?

PUCKLES
(pondering)
Sheds sheds sheds... hmm. Sheds.

KNIFE
Yes. Well?

PUCKLES
Oh, sir. Iím having such trouble concentrating today. 

KNIFE
Well Iím very sorry to hear that, but I need to buy a shed.

PUCKLES
Itís my wife you see. She left me. Ran off with the man from JS News Supplies. Are you married, sir?

KNIFE
I am, but I donít see what business it is of yours.

PUCKLES
Has she ever left you, sir?

KNIFE
Left me? Janine would never leave me. She knows sheíd never find a better man than me. Iím highly intelligent, witty, and almost completely sexually liberated.

PUCKLES
Do you know what theyíre calling me round here, sir? Do you know what those thugs from the estate taunt me with? Puckles The Cuckold. I canít walk to the launderette without suffering their taunts. Iím made to feel like the pariah, sir, but Iím not the one who has been wanton. Itís her. Her and Mr Andrews from JS News Supplies.

KNIFE
Look, do you have sheds or not?

PUCKLES
Sorry, sir. So sorry. Here you are. One shed. Five pounds.

He produces a small sculpture of two intertwined naked men.

KNIFE
(baffled and appalled)
Is this a joke?

PUCKLES
No sir. Itís a shed. One Superior Homo-Erotic Design. S.H.E.D. Just like you asked.

Knife pushes the sculpture to the floor, smashing it.

KNIFE
(walking out)
Perhaps thatíll teach you not to put dots between your letters next time youíre constructing a...(thinks of the word) an anagram.

EXT. PUCKLES NEWS & CHEWS. DAY

Knife walks out of the shop straight into the entire staff of the DIY superstore. They all smile at him sadly. Knife backs against the wall.

INT. CAFE. DAY

Brad and Janine are enjoying a friendly coffee. 

BRAD
So you donít even have a dog?

JANINE
No. Iím sorry.

BRAD
Donít be, Janine. I know what itís like to be in a loveless relationship.

JANINE
You do? Oh, Brad... please tell me.

Close in on Brad, who summons the strength to tell his story. He stares into his coffee. Close in on Brad.

BRAD
My last boyfriend, Dave, was a terrible bully. (We hear Janine drop and smash her coffee cup.) Some nights Iíd come home to the belt, other nights it was the shoe. One one occassion heíd constructed a device he referred to only as "The Falcon Project". It was a battery powered paddle, much like a giant robotic falcon, but with a golden clasp that would fly open when... Janine?

Janine is gone, and the cafe door bangs closed. Brad blinks in her wake.

EXT. ALLEYWAY. DAY

Knife has backed into a grimy alleyway. The DIY people advance on him. 

KNIFE
What do you want? If youíre going to interefere with me, then just do it. Iíd rather get any debasement out of the way now than spend the rest of my life never knowing if you people are going to pounce.

ROSTRUM
We donít want to hurt you.

KNIFE
Then what do you want?

ROSTRUM
Itís just... listen... (becoming choked) Four years ago Home Brothers DIY was a grey, grimy place to work. A virtual sweatshop presided over by our senior manager, a shady figure spoken about only in hushed, reverent tones. His name? Doctor Klaw. One day Little Jimmy came into our lives. He was like a glistening rainbow, all bright colours cutting a swathe through the darkness of Doctor Klawís empire. All of us fell in love with Little Jimmy and his amusing pratfalls and hilarious ruses. But all that ended two weeks ago when... (his voice cracks. Heís comforted by a friend) When Jimmy put... put a plastic joke spider in the female staff toilets... and was... he was indefinitely suspended.

Thereís much crying and sobbing among the DIY store staff.

KNIFE
So?

ROSTRUM
Perhaps this picture will make you understand.

He produces a photograph. It shows the DIY store staff in happier times, enjoying a donkey ride with Little Jimmy, a chicken man, much like Knife.

KNIFE
He looks a little bit like me. So what?

BRAD
(o/s)
Hey whatís going on down here? This is my alleyway. (Brad is standing at one end of the alleyway, all rippling muscles, holding a S.H.E.D. sculpture in one hand. He addresses Knife.) Are these DIY store staffers bothering you?

KNIFE
Yes.

BRAD
You people chose the wrong day to pick on the little guy. Iím a boiling pot of confused sexual tension, and Iím going to take it out on you.

Brad attacks the DIY store staff with the sculpture, half-killing half of them, and fully killing the rest. Silence descends on the alleyway, save for the moans of the dying. Brad breathes heavily and leans against a wall, expecting thanks.

KNIFE
You donít by any chance know of anyone whoís selling a shÖ a wooden garden house.

INT. KNIFE & JANINEíS BEDROOM. NIGHT

Knife and Janine are in bed. Janine is reading a medical encyclopedia. Knife is sitting on the floor playing with his train set.

KNIFE
And then, the gay librarianís uncle gave me the shed for free because it was blocking his view of the nudist beach.

JANINE
Iím sure George appreciates it.

KNIFE
And thankyou for giving up those smutty novels, darling.

JANINE
Thatís all right, darling. Looks like today ended happily for everyone.

KNIFE
Yes.

A beat. Knife stands up and slips on his slippers.

JANINE
Where are you going?

KNIFE
I just remembered I forgot to, er... close the, er, microwave.

JANINE
Okay, darling.

Knife pads out of the room. Janine waits until heís gone, and then reaches under the mattress for a copy of "COCK MAGAZINE", a seemingly pornographic magazine featuring chickens. Her eyes widen as she flicks through the pages.

Mmm! Oooh!

EXT. GEORGEíS GARDEN. NIGHT

Darkness. An owl hoots. Metal strikes flint repeatedly. We pan across to something shifting at the bottom of the garden: the source of the noise, which is accompanied by an intermittent spark.

KNIFE
Cheap imported lighter rubbish...

Suddenly a torch is flicked on and George - in possession of the torch - illuminates Knife attempting to ignite a bundle of newspaper stuffed under the new shed. Knife turns to face him. George can scarcely believe it. Knife runs away.

CRASH CUT TO BLACK



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