Author Topic: GRAVE HILL  (Read 197 times)

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« on: March 06, 2019, 09:05:02 PM »
It has the same (original) theme tune as Grange Hill, but is made 70 years later and features the original cast in a retirement home (called Grave Hill) up to their usual pranks and japes.

It is better than Last of the Summer Wine, before you ask.

Offer your script excerpts please.


  • You Go Careful There Now My Love
« Reply #1 on: March 06, 2019, 11:16:34 PM »
Alan: Grave then I suppose
Desmond of the Grave: That it is, schoolboy of the home, that it is


  • When you're ugly...
« Reply #2 on: March 06, 2019, 11:51:02 PM »
Tucker: I haven't go' Aids!

Tucker does a runny shit into a metal pan and dementedly eats 'crisps' from his jar of kidney stones

Roland: I need Fixodent for my teeth.

Music: Wannit-wib-waaow

« Reply #3 on: March 07, 2019, 01:38:09 AM »
Terminator1: Blimey, this hill is looking pretty grave.

Terminator2: Not as grave as the hill I was on yesterday.

John O'Connor: Grave...Can someone help me move this heavy wardrobe to a 2nd floor room it definitely doesn't have a rebellion leader in it?

Wardrobe opens and a foetus wearing a flat cap slides out of it.

Both Terminators: Haaaashtag caaaancelled!

Music: Wannit-wib-waaow

Prison Biscuits

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« Reply #4 on: March 07, 2019, 04:18:20 AM »
Danny Kendall's mental poltergeist skims Mr Bronson's wig out of the window and across a fish pond.

Prison Biscuits

  • a loaf of milk
« Reply #5 on: March 07, 2019, 04:32:47 AM »
Nurse: Mr Greaves, it's time for your medication.

91-year-old Zammo: Just say no, Ziggy.

Nurse: Ziggy Graves, more like.

87-year-old Ziggy Greaves: This is fookin' brilliant, like.

Bennett Brauer

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« Reply #6 on: March 07, 2019, 11:30:52 AM »
Roland: I need Fixodent for my teeth.
Ridiculously threatening character appearing out of nowhere: Did someone ask for gripper?

Gripper's sidekick: Wannit-wib-waow.

« Reply #7 on: March 07, 2019, 01:14:35 PM »
A nurse goes fucking mental at them all because dementia has rendered them only capable of humming.

Spoon of Ploff

  • visitors are welcome to Sheerness
« Reply #8 on: March 07, 2019, 06:28:48 PM »
It's 4AM at Grave Hill, and former Grange Hill writer Phil Redmond is having a troubled sleep.

PR: ahhhWhhrwrrr rhhh.. Ahhhmmmrrrhh

The ghost of Jeremy Irvine appears at the foot of his bed, dressed in swimming drunks and dripping profusely.

JR: Was it you Phil? Was it you who murdered me?

PR: Arr Arahhh uhhhh Uhhh!

JR: Did you enjoy killing me off you old shit? Did it get you off drowning me to fuck?

PR: ...

JR: Rumor has it Phil.. Rumor has it when you handed in that first draft they had to ask for another. On account of not being able to open the pages because of all the... residue.... You dirty old bugger!

PR:... Nuuuah! Hnnnn aaaabbbww!

JR: Don't worry Phil. I can keep this up all night mate. I can keep this going forever.

PR: pppl.....eeeeeeees nnnnnnuuuu

JR: Haunt the shit out of you Phil. Phil? Hey Phil, you know that glass o water by the bed. Fucking spit in that every fucking night.

PR: bbraaauhh hhauurgh!

JR: That's spit... if you're lucky Phil!

PR(waking): Ahhhhhh!

He looks around wildly, but the ghost of Jeremy Irvine has disappeared.

PR: Just a dream... just a dream.

There's is a tiny splashing sound and he turns sharply. A close up of the glass of water by his bed shows its surface has been disturbed.

Music: Wannit-wib-waaow