Sundry Efforts
DOLLY'S VIEW
by Frank Swales
A Situation Comedy for Television
in six half-hour episodes.
Excerpt
Episode One: A New Broom Disturbs The Dust.
TELECINE 1: EXT. DAY.
SOUND: TITLE MUSIC.
Opening titles over shots of DOLLY travelling to work at the Soho ladies' public convenience.
1. DOLLY alighting from a London double-decker bus, dressedin the typical everyday clothes of a young office girl and carrying a bulging Tesco's shopping bag.
2. DOLLY passes a couple (MAN ONE and WOMAN ONE) embracing in the street. MAN ONE's hand strays from caressing WOMAN ONE's bottom to rummage in her handbag. Without breaking off the embrace WOMAN ONE grips his errant hand and leads it back to her bottom. DOLLY's eyes widen in surprise as she hurries by.
3. DOLLY sees another couple (MAN TWO and WOMAN TWO) collide on the pavement. They are both very polite as they help each other with their fallen belongings, MAN TWO being especially gallant towards WOMAN TWO, until both people realise that they have been hurrying towards the same taxi pulled up at the kerb. An undignified tussles ensues for control of the door handle as DOLLY squeezes past them.
4. MAN THREE stops at a flower stall and picks a single rose. He sniffs it and smiles at DOLLY as she passes. DOLLY pauses and returns the smile. MAN THREE turns to the FLOWER GIRL and fastens the rose into her lapel. She smells it and smiles sweetly. As MAN THREE leaves the FLOWER GIRL stops him for the money, holding up one finger and mouthing 'one pound' very deliberately. MAN THREE takes another rose and sticks it in her mouth and walks away holding up two fingers rudely. DOLLY's smile changes to a grimace.
5. A ROAD SWEEPER has parked his barrow in the gutter to light up a cigarette. WOMAN THREE passes by DOLLY and crosses the road with a large envelope in her hand. WOMAN THREE gestures to the ROAD SWEEPER that she is looking for a post box. The ROAD SWEEPER makes a big deal of directing her to one, using expansive arm movements to indicate street turnings, roundabouts, bridges and tunnels. The woman thanks him and leaves. The ROAD SWEEPER takes a last drag on his cigarette, flicks it into the gutter, and pushes his barrow along the street, revealing a wall-mounted post box that had been hidden by his barrow.
6. The ROAD SWEEPER pushes a pile of rubbish along the street with a wide broom. As he nears DOLLY he looks all around, lifts a manhole cover, sweeps the rubbish into the hole, and lowers the lid. When he reaches another manhole farther down the street the cover lifts and a HAND dumps the rubbish back onto the road at his feet. The ROAD SWEEPER angrily stamps on the HAND and it withdraws under the manhole cover. DOLLY grins broadly.
7. DOLLY arrives at the ladies's public convenience in time to catch the ROAD SWEEPER about to dump the rubbish down her steps. He is ashamed and drops the rubbish into the bin on his barrow. DOLLY smiles at him then descends the steps.
8. Obvious time cut as DOLLY emerges immediately, dressed in her working uniform of crumpled overall, baggy cardigan and headscarf, clothes more typical of a middle-aged lavatory attendant than a girl in her early twenties.
SOUND: END TITLE MUSIC.
DOLLY
(in broad Yorkshire accent)
Eeeee, this London. It's another world.
(smiling)
I love it!
OVERLAY EPISODE TITLE: A New Broom Disturbs The Dust.
END OF TELECINE 1
FADE TO:
1 EXT. STEPS DOWN TO LADIES' CONVENIENCE. NIGHT.
SOUND: RADIO PLAYING POP MUSIC INSIDE THE CONVENIENCE.
TRACKING SHOT OF WALL, DESCENDING STEPS, TO VIEW GRAFFITI.
Graffiti Examples:
1. Is a lady barrister with briefs a solicitor?
2. Sado-masochism means not having to say you're sorry.
3. Elizabeth rules, God bless her!
4. Marriage. Not a word, more of a sentence.
5. Tony Blair knows what he's doing -- that's what scares me!
5. Unemployment is not working!
7. Grow your own dope. Plant a Tory MP.
8. I'm pink therefore I'm Spam.
DOLLY is sitting on a wooden chair near the open door at the bottom of the steps, dressed in her working gear. She is reading the latest copy of 'London Rave' -- the happening teenmag, by the light of the lamp over the door.
DOLLY
(reading aloud in her broadest Yorkshire accent)
Samantha spends her lunch hour every day shopping for those little touches that help her blend in with her crowd at the weekend rave.
DOLLY holds the magazine at arms length and squints.
Yeah, if her crowd's a bunch of gormless, colour-blind beanpoles with no dress sense. Eeeee, lass, get some class.
DOLLY looks down at her cardigan, pouts and smoothes down the material.
(reading aloud in a posh voice)
Laser-light earrings are in, double-decker skateboards are out. Crushed vellum, yes, faded denim, no.
DOLLY stretches out her neck.
(mimicking)
Giraffe necks are in, boobs are out --
DOLLY mimes pricking her breasts with a pin.
-- pop-pop. Nipples, yes, boobs no. Dearie me, they're like peanuts on poached eggs.
DOLLY lowers the magazine.
Well, stroke my nap. Where do they get them, Anorexics-R-Us?
SOUND: A LAVATORY CISTERN FLUSHING, FOLLOWED BY A CASH REGISTER BELL.
Ah, Lady Muck. I forgot about her.
DOLLY stands up, drops the magazine onto her chair, and enters the convenience.
CUT TO:
2 INT. LADIES' CONVENIENCE. NIGHT.
There is a row of six cubicles, doors all closed, and a small utility room, door open, in a corner. The washbasins and vanity tops are on the wall opposite the cubicles. Between the two wall mirrors a council poster declares: Ladies do not write on walls. Someone has scrawled on the wall below: Who are you calling a lady?
SOUND: CONTINUATION OF POP MUSIC ON RADIO.
DOLLY enters, dancing funkily past the cubicles to her utility room at the far end. She reaches inside the room and switches off the radio.
SOUND: END POP MUSIC.
DOLLY goes to the door of cubicle three.
DOLLY
Are you alright in there? (pauses, then loudly) Hey, Lady Muck, can you hear me?
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
(in a cultured voice)
The name is Lady Lavinia, and yes, I can most certainly hear you. I am not deaf.
DOLLY
Lady Lavinia, Lady Muck or Lady Luck, I don't care. You've been in there over an hour.
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
I have not!
DOLLY
You bloody well have! Three flushes. I've been counting. Nobody needs three flushes. Nobody normal, at any rate. What are you doing in there, composing a symphony? Handel's Water Music? Ode to a Water Nymph?
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
I have a perfect right to flush three times. My father defeated the Boers, his father killed twenty-three whirling Dervishes at Kharthoum, and his grandfather fought against Napoleon.
DOLLY
A quarrelsome lot, your family. Couldn't they get on with anybody?
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
They fought and died to keep our beautiful land free, so that their children and their children's children could breathe fresh air and go wherever they choose, and do whatever they choose to do, including sitting down and flushing three times!
DOLLY
You just can't stay in there all night.
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
I claim this small piece of dear old England as my family seat. I am the last Fitzherbert!
DOLLY
Listen, Lady Muck, I don't care if you're the Queen, other people want to use that throne.
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
Here I sit, and here I shall stay. One hour, two, all night if I wish. (pauses) What time is it?
DOLLY
Seven-thirty.
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
Oh my, Covent Garden! I shall miss dear Rupert's grand ballon. Such poise. He moves me to tears with his splits during the Nutcracker Suite.
DOLLY
It can't be doing him much good, either.
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
I must go to him.
The cubicle door clicks open to reveal LADY LAVINIA as a bag lady, wearing half-a-dozen holed cardigans, a knee-length spotted frock, army boots and a floppy hat with a plastic flower in the brim.
DOLLY
I'm sorry to turf you out, love, but you can't sleep in here. This isn't a doss-house, it's a sh--
LADY LAVINIA
(interrupting)
I was not sleeping! I was relaxing ... between social engagements. One as sensitive as I couldn't possibly sleep with all the noise in your establishment. Dripping taps, clanking ballcocks, and that dreadful music you insist on playing on that machine. I'm not one to complain, heaven knows, but really.
DOLLY
Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Lady Lavinia, but I had to let the London Philharmonic go ... the acoustics weren't quite right for them. And the spike on the double bass was playing havoc with my tiled floor.
BLONDE (O.O.S.)
Coo-ee, hello out there.
DOLLY
Now what?
DOLLY stands beside cubicle four.
Yes?
BLONDE (O.O.S.)
I'm so sorry to bother you, but I seem to be ... ah, a bit short on the amenities.
DOLLY
Oh, righto. Just a minute.
DOLLY disappears into the utility room and comes back with a toilet roll. She approaches cubicle four.
Here you are. Coming over.
DOLLY lobs the toilet roll over the door, but forgets to let go of the free end of the paper strip, which trails like a streamer over the cubicle.
BLONDE (O.O.S.)
Oh!
DOLLY
Sorry.
LADY LAVINIA
Your predecessor was much more receptive to the needs of her patrons. Such a kind, understanding woman, nothing was too much trouble for her. The salt of the earth. Whatever happened to her?
DOLLY
She was sacked.
LADY LAVINIA
But why?
DOLLY
Well, the council doesn't like its lavvy ladies stuffing people's heads into the bog and flushing it.
LADY LAVINIA
Oh, dear.
DOLLY
Yeah, she snapped -- (clicks fingers) -- just like that. One minute helping old ladies up the steps, the next barricading herself in here with six hostages for a week. It was a stand-off, her against two hundred policemen. I'm surprised you hadn't heard about it. It made News at Ten twice, once when it beat Tony Blair's speech as top story, then just after Princess Anne's crisis over which dress to wear to that big hunt ball. A horse blanket would have done, if you ask me. They were thinking of bringing in the S.A.S., you know.
LADY LAVINIA
For Princess Anne's ballgown?
DOLLY
For the siege in here, you muffin! The old lavvy lady had already ruined three hairdos -- (mimes flushing a lavatory cistern) -- they had to do something, didn't they?
LADY LAVINIA
The S.A.S! Oh, dear.
DOLLY
Naw, it didn't come to that, in the end. On the seventh day she released the hostages, threw out all her lavatory brushes, and walked out with her hands up.
LADY LAVINIA
But she was such a kind person. What caused her to snap like that?
DOLLY
She found an old fart sleeping in one of her cubicles.
LADY LAVINIA elevates her nose in disdain.
SOUND: A LAVATORY CISTERN FLUSHING, FOLLOWED BY A CASH REGISTER BELL.
The door to cubicle four clicks open and the BLONDE comes into view. Dressed in chandelier earrings, low-necked blouse, tight miniskirt, stiletto heels, and platinum-blonde wig the BLONDE's appearance is stunning, but spoiled by the obvious five o'clock shadow and protruding Adam's apple. The BLONDE is a transvestite.
DOLLY
I think one of us is a bit confused here, but I'm not sure who it is. Shouldn't you be next door?
DOLLY extends a forefinger in front of her groin.
If you get my meaning?
The BLONDE digs into his handbag.
BLONDE
Oh no, petal, I prefer the atmosphere in here. It's so ... fresh.
The BLONDE takes an aerosol can out of his handbag and sprays it around his head. He shakes his wig and breathes deeply.
Lilac. Besides, that man in there -- the attendant fellow -- has he got a problem! He asked me to leave, would you credit it? Well, not exactly asked. Oh, he's so coarse. He ruined my decolletage with those rough claws.
The BLONDE puffs up his bosom. Bits of toilet paper are sticking out of the low neckline.
Of course, he was miffed, that's what it was. He thought his luck was in until he looked closer, then he saw that there was no point in it.
DOLLY
Or rather, there was a point, where he didn't expect one.
BLONDE
Well, he won't get my patronage ever again. Big hulking brute. And thick as bog fog. You know, he once studied three hours solid -- for a blood test. And he failed.
The BLONDE smoothes his skirt over his hips and flashes his eyes at DOLLY.
Keep my seat warm, petal. Toodle-oo for the mo. Oh, can I give you a tip?
DOLLY
(smiles and holds out her hand)
Well, we usually leave that up to the patrons.
BLONDE
Okay, listen. Never play leapfrog with a unicorn.
The BLONDE pats DOLLY's hand and smiles, then totters to the exit, making heavy going of walking in stilettos.
DOLLY
Well, stroke my --. What am I running here?
DOLLY stoops and peers under the closed cubicle doors.
(banging on each closed cubicle door in turn)
Alright, everybody out! Terminus. All change for Soho Central.
Cubicle one door opens to reveal a POSH WOMAN, dressed in an elegant two-piece suit and ornate hat.
POSH WOMAN
Well, really!
The POSH WOMAN leaves in a huff, trailing a long streamer of toilet paper and showing her knickers where they've caught in the back of her skirt.
Cubicle two door opens to reveal TWO LESBIANS. LESBIAN ONE is traditionally feminine in a pink-and-white checked gingham dress and starched pony tail. LESBIAN TWO is outrageously butch with a pin-striped business suit, earrings and noserings. She has a big bust, and a crew cut that has been sprayed pink and green. The TWO LESBIANS leave arm-in- arm, having eyes for only each other.
Cubicle five door opens to reveal two JAPANESE TOURISTS. The JAPANESE MAN's neck is festooned with assorted cameras. The JAPANESE WOMAN is carrying two bulging Harrods carrier bags. The JAPANESE TOURISTS bow low to DOLLY and LADY LAVINIA, then the JAPANESE WOMAN poses between them for a photograph. The JAPANESE MAN flashes his camera and bows again. The JAPANESE TOURISTS leave.
DOLLY bangs on cubicle six.
DOLLY
Come out, number six. Your time's up.
Cubicle six door opens to reveal the ROAD SWEEPER with his broom and a handful of rubbish.
DOLLY goes for him.
Gert cha!
The ROAD SWEEPER runs out.
LADY LAVINIA starts to follow him.
Hold up, you. Haven't you forgotten something?
LADY LAVINIA stops and turns to DOLLY.
LADY LAVINIA
And what is that, my good woman?
DOLLY holds open cubicle three's door.
SHOT INTO CUBICLE THREE.
It is packed with bulging black bin liners and plastic carrier bags.
DOLLY
Your luggage, milady.
LADY LAVINIA
Oh, just leave them there for the moment. I shall have Hauptman collect them later.
DOLLY
And Hauptman is?
LADY LAVINIA
My chauffeur, of course. He's with the Rolls.
DOLLY
Oh, you mean that Sainsbury trolley up there in the gutter. Bad news, I'm afraid. You've been clamped. And Hauptman's been nicked for bashing a bobby with his meths bottle.
LADY LAVINIA
Damned fascists!
DOLLY
You're right there. They're always spoiling people's fun, shining torches into parked cars. My sister's boyfriend Fred says they're walking contaceptives -- coppers interruptus. He's broken dozens of zips that way. And the bobby just looks at the pair of them struggling, Fred tripping over his pants and our Beryl with the gear stick up her bum and her knickers flying from the aerial, and all he can think to say is, hello, hello, hello ... what's going on here? And they try to tell me that pigs aren't stupid animals!
LADY LAVINIA
Stupid indeed. What were they thinking of, clamping a lady's transport like that? I need that trolley. I shall have words with the Commissioner about this.
DOLLY
The Commissioner? Oh, the doorman at the Red Light Hotel.
LADY LAVINIA
(Haughtily)
The Commissioner of Police. A very dear friend. I shall bring it up at my little soiree this evening. At Bunty's. The Duchess of Hartlepool to you. A dear, dear friend.
DOLLY
And would this little swar-reeee be before or after you've been to Covent Garden?
LADY LAVINIA
Oh, I must hurry. I shall miss dear Rupert's entrance. He really displays the most divine pas seul.
DOLLY
You saucy old thing!
LADY LAVINIA
Yes ... well, I mustn't waste time chatting to the domestics. Keep an eye on my belongings, dear girl. I shall arrange alternative transport for them later.
DOLLY
Oh, it's late shopping at Sainsbury's tonight, is it? Watch out for the ones with the wonky wheels. They're murder to get over the kerbs.
LADY LAVINIA
It's Tesco's tonight. (looks abashed) That is ... so my cleaning lady tells me. Poor woman, she has no taste at all. I've told her so many times. Mrs Muggins, I've said, you really must shop at Harrods. Their courgettes are so superior.
DOLLY
Look, Sainsbury's, Tesco's or my Aunt Fanny's Emporium of Second-hand Teabags, I don't care! If your alternative transport isn't here before I finish my shift you'll find this lot in the rubbish skip up there in the street.
LADY LAVINIA
No, don't do that. (mutters) That's where most of it came from.
DOLLY
Well, you've been warned. Enjoy the ballet.
LADY LAVINIA
Ah, the social whirl. How exhilarating. But how the responsibility weighs one down. The poor dears would be devastated if I failed to put in an appearance. Bye-bye for now.
LADY LAVINIA exits singing.
I could have danced all night. (pause)
LADY LAVINIA (O.O.S.)
Oh, bugger!
LADY LAVINIA returns.
LADY LAVINIA
It's raining.
LADY LAVINIA looks dejected, pulling her many cardigans tighter across her chest.
DOLLY
(smiling)
Fancy a cup of tea?
LADY LAVINIA
(brightens up)
Souchong?
DOLLY
Sorry, love, I've only got tea.
FADE TO:
End of Excerpt
© Frank Swales
