A Modern Merrie England by Kevan Fawkes
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
There is the sound of traffic in the background and seagulls calling
overhead. Reveal a park somewhere in London. An elderly man,
dishevelled and unkempt, sits on a park bench. At his feet is an old
rucksack from which he extracts a stale sandwich, edges curled, and
unappetising. As he sniffs the sandwich, sniffs his armpit and then
the sandwich seemingly content he is about to bite into the
sandwich when the screeching of seagulls increases and hoards of the
birds apparently circle and dive at him from above. He takes cover
behind the park bench dodging the gulls as they wheel and dive at the
old man, who clutches jealously the valuable sandwich to his chest.
Norm (Shouting) Bleeding seagulls! Gerrof me, ya ruddy vermin. Go on -
sod off!
Enter Eric, a man of similar age and appearance, pushing a shopping
trolley. He approaches Norm opening an old umbrella to protect
himself from the gulls:
Eric Norman! Put that sandwich out of sight man…damned birds can be
lethal when they strafe you like that!
Norman puts his precious sandwich away in his rucksack, both men set
about scattering the birds. The sound of the gulls fades and the men
out of breath from their exertions sit on the bench breathing heavily.
Eric Gulls! It could be argued that they are one of Britain's most
vicious predators, you know…indiscriminate…quite an
armoury…beaks sharp as any bayonet and…and their guano! Now that
may be considered… nature's napalm…caustic! Eat right through
your overcoat if you're not careful!
Norm Once upon a bloody time, a bloke could 'ave 'is beaver wiv
out 'aving to go to ruddy war. I mean, "blitzkrieg" that's
wot that was!
Eric Somewhat overstating things I think, Norman, old fellow!
Norm I'm telling ya…Winged terrorists that's wot they are, Eric
- Bleeding terrorists!
Pause
Eric I don't suppose we can really blame the birds though. After
all it's not their fault - they're natural scavengers and
they're doing what comes naturally. Simply self preservation!
Norm Eh?
Eric Mal managed industry - that's the problem!
Norm Mal wot?
Eric Gulls! Do you see? Generically termed "Sea-gulls"!
Norm ...and ya point is?
Eric Well, their natural habitat is the coast! The beach; the cliff
tops; the open sea. Under normal circumstances they would have no
business here in the city
Norm 'Ere you're right!
He stands, turns and climbs on the bench shouting up at the gulls that
still wheel overhead, though their calls are more distant now
Norm D'ya hear that? Ya got no business 'ere so go on, sod
off! There! That told' em!
Norm gets down from the bench smirking triumphantly and sits back down
beside his friend.
Eric ...but they can't "sod off" Norm… as you, so eloquently,
put it! Unfortunately, we have overfished the seas, around this our
"sceptred isle", as Shakespeare termed it! Fish stocks are
depleted and so sea foul are finding it ever more difficult in their
struggle for survival. Their food source has been compromised…
Norm Yeah! Mine too!
Eric ...so…they have no choice, but to scavenge inland…and what do
they find?
Norm My bloody sandwich!?
Eric Yes!! No!! A virtual forager's paradise! Food waste
everywhere… tips… wheelie bins… road verges… It's strewn all
over the place.
Norm But if it's all over the ruddy place, then they got no reason
to 'alf inch me bleeding sandwich, 'ave they! Thieving toe rags!
Eric Think now, Norman…they're only trying to get by…survive.
They're no different to you or I… I mean, in our time we've
raided our fair share of wheelie bins, have we not?
Norm I s'pose so!
Eric Well then…
(Pause)
Eric Did you know that over 50% of the food produced for consumption
in this country ends up as waste?
Norm Ya jokin' aint ya?
Eric It true I'm afraid!
Norm Bloody Hell! 'Old 'ard…then 'ow come then the likes o'
me and you 'ave to tea leaf stale sarnies an' scrounge cups o'
rosie. No…it's a load o' old bull, I reckon!
Eric It's true I tell you…I read it in the "Big Issue".
Lights fade to blackout
END OF SCENE ONE
SCENE TWO
Reveal a kitchen scene. It is early morning. Rose is wearing an
apron over her dressing gown and nightwear. She rushes around
preparing breakfast for her family. She shouts off upstairs
Rose Girls! Will you get a move on please? You'll be late for
school!
John (Off) Rose! Where's my clean work shirt?
Rose It's in the airing cupboard on a hanger. I ironed it
yesterday. Have you got it?
John (Off) Yes! Thanks love.
Rose While you're up there can you put the rest of your ironing
away, please?
John (Off) Yes dear!
Rose Yes dear!! That means he'll conveniently forget and leave it
for me to do after he's gone off to work. Will you girls please get
your skates on?
She continues with making the breakfast. After a short while her
daughters Debs and Louise enter. They are busy doing their makeup and
hair. They sit at the table.
Debs ...and like Sarah Rutter, well she said that wearing black
eyeliner is, like, so uncool, yeah, but then Farah Smith said, like,
what does she know?
Louise Yeah, 'cos like, if Taylor Swift wears it then it's got to
be cool innit!
Debs Yeah cool!
Louise Strictly…
Rose That's enough you two! Eat your breakfast.
She places a plate in front of each of the girls. They grimace.
Debs Aw Mum. I can't eat that. It must be like 50,000 calories at
least, yeah!
Louise Yeah and fried food is, like, bad for your complexion it
said so in last week's edition of "Teen Vogue".
Debs That's right and like there was this big exposé about how free
range stuff is unnatural.
Rose I don't care. You two are not going off to school without
eating something. John! Will you come down here and talk to these
two girls of yours.
John (Off) Yes dear!
The sound of someone rushing down the stairs. John enters. He grabs
a slice of toast
John Got to rush. I'm late. See you love.
He gives her a peck on the cheek and starts to leave.
Rose What about breakfast?
John Sorry love…got to go! Come on you two…if you
want a lift to school.
He leaves with the two girls close behind.
Rose (Calling after them) ...What about… Oh!
She sits resignedly at the table head in hands.
John (Off) Sorry love. I forgot the ironing. I'll do it when I get
home.
The front door slams shut. Rose stares after her husband in disbelief.
She sighs, rises wearily to her feet and begins to clear up the
breakfast things. She goes over to the waste bin and scrapes the
contents of plates into the waiting receptacle.
Rose It's at times like this I wish we had a dog.
Lights fade to blackout
END OF SCENE TWO
[end of extract]