MATTER OF FACT ONLY FOOLS & COACH TOURS

[Glebe]

IT COULD NEVER BE DEL: Seagull, Rodney.

LOOKS MORE LIKE RODNEY THAN IT WOULD NEVER BE DEL LOOKS LIKE DEL (NOT THAT THAT'S DIFFICULT!): Not to worry, It Could Never Be Del, Mr. Fawlty has asked Terry to cook a fish pie as a distraction.

[Glebe]

IT IS CERTAINLY NOT DEL: I can almost smell that sea air already, eh, Albert? Albert?! Where's he 'gorn', to, eh?

IT IS MORE LIKE BASIL FAWLTY: I have no idea!

RODNEY?: 'ang on, I do not think he even boarded the bus this morn!

COACH CUSTOMERS: Gasp!

RODNEY?: Maybe we should stop the bus and look around, Certainly Not Del? I'll grab the A-Z and we'll ask some tramps!

CERTAINLY NOT DEL?: No, hang - I mean, 'ang on, Rodney... Granddad, get some chicken legs and a bottle of whiskey, I think I know where he is! Turn the bus around - we're going back to London!

EXT.TOBACCO ROAD.LONDON.

NOT DEL: Bit old to be running away from a coach tour, aren't we?

'ALBERT': Wot yoo two doin' 'ere?

RODNEY?: We woz worried about you, 'Albert'!

'ALBERT': This place used to be different! By the time I was twelve, I could swear like a docker! People comin' in an' out of the cafees... we put I sign up... you can smash our 'ouses, Blakey... but not our arse! Look wot they done to it nah!

NOT DEL: Triffic!

RODNEY?: It is poncey!

NOT DEL: Eric Clapton. Tin drums.

'ALBERT': Anyway, in the end, I put on a fake paper beard and stowed away on a steamer to become an Uncle Albert impersonator!

'TRIG' (from luggage compartment): Let me out. Air break.

[Glebe]

AMERICAN TOURIST: Alright Fawlty, I've had enough! Last time I went on this coach tour, you said you'd fix me a Waldorf salad!

NEVER DEL: Er, he's meant to be Boycie, mate. But yeah, he does the Fawlty Towers coach tour as well, and looks more the part!

AMERICAN TOURIST: I don't believe this. This is the crummiest coach tour I ever been on! Why, I wouldn't bring my dog on this!

'RODNEY?!': Nah, cam on, mate. We've had no complaints so far!

'ALBERT?!': Yeah... just a loh of sa'isfoid castamers!

AMERICAN TOURIST: Satisfied customers, ah? Okay, then... weak-willed man, are you satisfied?

WEAK-WILLED MAN: Oh-oh, yes!

AMERICAN TOURIST: Two old ladies, are you both satisfied?

TWO OLD LADIES: Oh yes! Mr. Boycie is a lovely hotel-runner!

STRONG-WILLED WOMAN: I'm not satisfied!

EVERYONE ELSE: We're not satisfied!

AMERICAN TOURIST: 'Satisfied customers', ah? HOT DOG!

BOYCIE: This... is typical.

AMERICAN TOURIST: Alright, everyone off the bus! Order ten taxis to Margate, I'll pay for 'em!

TRIGGER (in luggage compartment): Hot dog.

[Huxleys Babkins]

TRAVELSICK RODNEY: Them bloody seagulls, Del. Constantly attacking me just like in The Jolly Boys Outing.

BROKEN COLLARBONE DEL: Come on Alan, shake a leg. 'Elp out yer son in law.

PASSENGER: I'm not Alan! I'm a passenger, Del. And I'm having a perfick time!

BROKEN COLLARBONE DEL: That was Inspector Frosty, you plonksy old dip!

*TRAVELSICK RODNEY IS CARRIED AWAY BY BASIL BOYCIE DRESSED AS A MOUSTACHED SEAGULL*

PASSENGER: Wow! 100% authentic!

[DangledTeeth]

Superb page. Pink boxes and complimentary cocktails of positive karma all round.

Voiceover: Welcome, Fools fans, to another lovely Jubbly trip.

The Tour of '62!

Unkempt Del: Mike's put on a good spread - sausage with mash, pink boxes of pudding an' complimentary cocktails.

Passenger 1: I don't remember that line.

Passenger 2: What happened to the intro scene where Del receives an invite?

Tubby Rodders: Someone has summoned you here, and we don't know why. Now... think who that could be?

Ordinary Trigger: Jeremy Kyle?

Passenger 3 (Deflated): It's meant to be 'Jeremy Beadle', but he's died since then so I suppose it's a good, up-to-date alteration.

Sideburns Denzil: What if it's our old headmaster Boomerang Benson!?

Beard Boycie: The parole board extended his stay at Broadmoor.

Unkempt Del: Gordon cushty! Who turned off the lights!?

Passenger 2: Do what?! It's daylight.

The coach comes to a halt and lets on its final passenger

Unkempt Del: SLATER!?

Blonde Slater: Surprise! I had you going there. Be honest, out of everyone you know, you never thought it would be me.

Unkempt Del: I'm not havin' a complimentary cocktail with a twat like you, Slater!

Blonde Slater: I mean you no harm, and I can't do you any harm. I'm an undertaker.

Sideburns Denzil: Yeah! And now you're choke-slamming bodies away.

Unkempt Del: You all got us done on Donald Duck charges. Like that time you arrested me, Rodney and Grandad for handling stolen goods.

Slater: But you did handle stolen goods. You admitted it and signed an immunity from prosecution.

Passenger 3: Odd yet accurate.

Unkempt Del: Blancmange toot! I forgot that one. I'll let you off.

Beard Boycie: And what about when you fined me for purveying faulty goods - heh-heh-hah 'fau(w)lty', I look like 'im - because one of my second-hand cars required a new exhaust pipe in order for it to be legally roadworthy and I insisted it didn't?

Blonde Slater: I'm dreadfully sorry, Boycie.

Beard Boycie: But you still bought the same car from me the next day.

Tubby Rodney: And you got me done for speedin' in a built-up area. My word against 'is.  Guess who the magistrates believed. YOU COULDN'T GET THE FUCKIN' THREE-WHEELER TO DO 2MPH IF YOU STRAPPED IT TO A CUNTING SPACE SHUTTLE.

Blonde Slater: I'm sorry, Rodney.

Tubby Rodney: Fuck it, slater. (Looks left to right) FUCK IT!

Passenger 1: It's not how I remember it, but it's quite funny.

Blonde Slater: My days were numbered. I FOUND JESUS. Dad's funeral. I FOUND JEEEEESUS. I didn't go to my Grandfather's daughter's fune-

Ordinary Trigger: Why not?

Sideburns Denzil: He was in nick, Trig. Ladder he did not have.

Ordinary Trigger: No, I thought you were let out on day-release for weddings and funerals, i.e. acts of God.

Passenger 2: Somehow, this seems like another badly remembered line. But Trigger actually responded with an intelligible answer for once.

Blonde Slater: Well... won't you tossers break bread with me?

Unkempt Del: I'll have a pink box.

Beard Boycie: Are yaou off your trolley?! You seriously daon't trust 'im.

Tubby Rodney: Personally, I'm not wanked. But I'm willing to give this bastard a go. (To Blonde Slater) Make it a large complimentary cocktail, Roy.

Sideburns Denzil: I'll have a lager.

Ordinary Trigger wanders across to Slater

Beard Boycie: He put you away in a young offenders' 'ome.

Ordinary Trigger: I won a blanket for my radio.

Unkempt Del: Large cognactail?

Boycie: Concoct this motherfucker now at a fast rate.

Passenger 4: The coast is on the horizon. You ought to speed up the performance. And quick!

Unkempt Del nods and signals to the impersonators

Unkempt Del: Shut up, Sla'er, you're gettin' her excited.

Blonde Slater: Yeah! I always did when we had coitus intercourse up yer arse.

Unkempt Del attempts to grapple Slater

Mohawk Raquel: I'll set him on you!

Viking Beard Albert: Oo's Raychowl?!?!?!?!

Impersonators and Passengers: SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALBERT!

Unkempt Del: Diamond merchant. Inheritancccce. I'm gonna accidentally pass this wallet to Slater

Blonde Slater: Oh you found it. A paper plate of soggy mashed potato drenched in some herb-like sauce and a lukewarm sausage will be nice.

Viking Beard Albert: He's got you by the... (does grasping motion) dick bag.

Stilts Mike: On Del's account?

Blonde Slater: Yes, more pink boxes and complimentary cocktails.

Unkempt Del: What does this photocopier's button say?

Blonde Slater: FA-UH-AX MUH-SHEEN.

Passenger 3: Fuckin' hell! It's the other way around. And 'fax' is a monosyllabic word.

Blonde Slater: Acceptable terms. Excuse me. Train to catch.

Unkempt Del and Tubby Rodney: YYYYES!

Tubby Rodney: Why didn't we take 'is money?

Unkempt Del: Illegal.

Passenger 1: Again, these seem like odd lines that have been half remembered by the actors, but Rodney and Del really did swap mentalities for a few seconds.

Stilts Mike: This photocopier machine doesn't work.

Unkempt Del: Yeah, sorry Mike, I tried to send you a fax about it, but it doesn't work. Doesn't work.

Passengers: HAHAHAHA!

Voiceover: GAH BLEH HOOKY COACH TOURS!