Absolutely Fabulous

Eddie:
What do you think of the kitchen, Pats?

Patsy:
I think it's fabulous.

Saffie:
It isn't done yet.

Eddie:
No, sweetie. Maybe she's right. Maybe this IS fabulous.

Eddie:
Patsy hasn't eaten since 1974.

Patsy:
A crisp, darling. A crisp.

Eddie:
[in front of Saffy] Ooo, she's so cold, sweetie! I'll just bet she has her period in cubes.

Bubble:
Ooo... Bear with me, see, I am HOPELESS with names, faces and people.

Eddie:
Look at me Sweetheart, huh, huh? One day you'll turn into me!

Gran:
[sweetly] And you will turn into me, dear.

Bubble:
Don't ask me. I for sure *don't* know.

Eddie:
But darling, that dress was awful! How did you manage to get her to wear it?

Patsy:
Oh, I just told her a cock-and-bull story about how I was a slave to my mother in her dying years and how I always strived to make her like me and she never loved me at all, ha!

Eddie:
Ooh!... [reflects for a second] But Pats, sweetie... That is all *true*. Your mother never loved you at all.

Patsy:
DAMN!

Eddie:
Where's my thing? You know, my thing... my vibrating thing...

Patsy:
Right by your bedside drawer, darling.

Eddie:
Not THAT, not THAT!... My beeper, my beeper!

Patsy:
Oh. [fishes inside her skirt] Here.

Eddie:
[disgusted] Keep it. I don't want it now. Don't WANT it now.

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Oh, darling, Mummy loves you. On the day you were born, I *knew* I wanted you...

Patsy:
However, the day after...

Saffie:
I am getting married.

Bo:
[delighted] Hallellujah! Praise the Lord! Let's speak in tongues - boolooloolooloolooloo!

Eddie:
Is champers all right with you, Pats?

Patsy:
Lovely, darling.

Eddie:
Should we finish off the beluga or should we have some smoked salmon nibbly things?

Patsy:
Oh, whatever, sweetie.

Eddie:
All right, we'll finish off the beluga.

Eddie:
La Croix, sweetie, La Croix.

Eddie:
Get ready for this, sweetie.

Patsy:
It's fabulous, darling.

Eddie:
Let the music lift you up, sweetie.

Eddie:
Bloody Pet Shop Boys, sweetie.

Eddie:
[ shouting] I DON'T WANT MORE CHOICE, I JUST WANT NICER THINGS .

[Edina has lost her speech which she has to present to the PR meeting]

Eddie:
Yeah I was gonna' make a- [taps microphone] Testing. Testing. -Yeah I was gonna' make a speech, but I just can't be bothered anymore. I mean, this used to be like fun you know; yeah it used to be fun, but I'm getting bored of all the 'fun' bits now. You know, your endless bloody lunches and launches, you know, no-career celebrities and party desperates. And what for, huh? Some colony of crap tags and mags! Well I'm sorry there has to be a little more than that doesn't there? [slams her handbag down] Hmmm? You know I had a speech, you know, my... my integrated-projected-global-tele-network system bloody system-system. But you know, if that's what the worlds coming to I don't want to be in it. No I don't want that. I don't want to be in some sort of cyber-space-hypervirtual bloody reality. I don't want that- exchanging e-mails with some old age bloody hippies with more information at their fingertips than is safe to know about. I don't want that! What kind of reality is that, huh, you know, with a thirteen-amp plug on the end of it? Huh? Huh?... That can be un-plugged like that? Come-on I'm going. [She turns to leave, but... ] No I'm not going yet! No, you! [points to her competition, Claudia Bing] You, you, just sit there like your velcroed to some bloody add-man! You know those crap-head add-men over there, you know, those kings of bastardization that have just taken everything that was ever real and genuine and honest and original and attached it to a toilet cleaner! Whereas I, I... Like a bird on a wire... Like a drunk in a midnight choir... I have tried in my way to be free. [Then she sings] Like a bird, on a wire.

Patsy:
Go for it Eddy.

Eddie:
[singing]... Like a drunk in a midnight choir. I have tried in my way to be free. [Claudia Bing and her colleagues are laughing] Yeah you can laugh, but you know something- I don't want more choice I just want nicer things! And you, you can take that look off your face, sitting there with your... with your wheels and AIDS and starvation. You know, skimming a neat profit of the whole of human misery. Labeling us all with this- with this global guilt. Well it may not be all great and good but it ain't that bad, so cheer up world it may never bloody happen! [slams her bag down again] Come on I'm going. [Edina walks off making rude farting sounds at everyone in the room]

Patsy:
Easy going sex with gorgeous, underage youths...

Eddie:
Yeaaah.

Eddie:
Pats...

Patsy:
Yes, Eddy?

Eddie:
You have no morals, darling.

Eddie:
I want total sensory deprivation and back-up drugs.

Saffie:
I'm sorry, mum, but I've never seen what it is that you actually do.

Eddie:
PRrr.

Saffie:
Yes, but...

Eddie:
PR. I PR things. People. Places. Concepts...

Patsy:
...Lulu.

Eddie:
Lulu... I make the fabulous... I make the crap into credible. I make the dull into...

Patsy:
...Delicious.

[on the significance of awards]

Eddie:
They don't matter, do they, darling?... Awards, Pats?

Patsy:
Oh, Eddy. We've been here before.

Eddie:
It's just... you know... I WANT one. I don't just want one, darling, I NEED one. My career is on a toboggan run of failure at the moment... I just need one. It's the only thing that seems to mean ANYthing these days... I need one now before the menopause drags me into her gaping jaws. Before my creative hormonal oil-well dribbles to a halt. Before my bottom becomes just a patch-work quilt of monkey glands, darling.

Saffie:
But, Mom, menopause can be a very exhilarating and positive experience for a woman.

Eddie:
Oooh, yes. And the curse is a blessing and childbirth is painless. No. Unless that gaping hole on my mantle piece is filled pretty soon, darling, I might as well... I might as well lick this light-switch and do us all a favour, darling...

Patsy:
[to Saffy] You piece of filth!

Eddie:
I have been a paradise, but I've never been a me.

[to daughter Saffron]

Eddie:
With any luck we'd get Roman Polanski interested in you.

Patsy:
She was never young enough for him.

Saffie:
I didn't know you still had the shop.

Eddie:
Oh, still got it, darling, but it's not doing very well. The supply's dropped off. You know... India's: had it, been there... Africa's dried up completely now... It's ridiculous... Thank God for Grozny. Honestly. Well, darling, if it wasn't for that lovely little Russian army advancing, thrashing out all those gorgeous little heirlooms in my direction, I don't know what I'd do... Oh, you should see, darling, in the shop I've got at the moment this fabulous little samovar with a little old woman still attached to it, sweetie. Clinging on for dear life. Having to lure her off with dry bread crumbs so that I could get a decent price...

[Eddy comes into the kitchen to find her mother making a cake]

Eddie:
What? This is all my stuff you're using?

Gran:
What, dear?

Eddie:
All this. This wheat powder... what's... This.

Gran:
Flour, dear?

Eddie:
Flour. Yes. All this is mine, is it? I mean, I am now paying for old people to eat cake.

Patsy:
Take a holiday, darling. South of France.

Magda:
I don't do holidays. Everybody's a nobody in a bikini.

Eddie:
What do you see when you look in the mirror, darling?

Patsy:
Me looking fabulous. What do you see?

Eddie:
Yeah... Just the room.

Eddie:
Pats. Pats. You know, like, when you are in a room or something, and you think someone is like staring at you...

Patsy:
In a room?

Eddie:
Or in a plane. Anywhere... anywhere... And you are sort of doing things because you think someone is looking at you like people are looking at you, you know?

Patsy:
On a plane?

Eddie:
Well, anywhere... anywhere... And then you look at them and they are just sort of asleep but their head is flopped in your direction, you know? Well, I don't want THAT to happen. I don't want THAT to be my life, you know. The whole world asleep.

Eddie:
The word on the old grave marker, the words on your grave marker. What is that?

Patsy:
Oh, your epitomb.

Eddie:
Your epitomb. What is it that you want on your epitomb?

Patsy:
I want: "She was fantastic."..."Patsy was here."

Eddie:
No, darling, you can just have "Patsy Stone".

Patsy:
Oh, Eddy, Eddy. Wait for this. Wait for this: "Eddy: Still no thinner."

Eddie:
These are really funny. We could sell those.

[Saffron is living "on campus" and Eddy tells her she wants her to move back home]

Saffie:
Mum, what is the problem? I have my life and you have yours. This is what you wanted.

Eddie:
I feel orphaned, you know.

Saffie:
What is the matter? Has the deal fallen through?

Eddie:
No the deal. Not the deal. Not that. It's just...

Saffie:
What?

Eddie:
Well, darling, you have just sort of abandoned me in this sort of wilderness of potential greatness and fabulousness, haven't you? All my walls have gone "flop", "flop"... I'm just like this kind of prisoner that's released... RELEASED PRISONER, darling, that is walking out into the squinting sun. I mean, you've cast me adrift with no oars.

Saffie:
You have oars.

Eddie:
I haven't.

Saffie:
You have. You're just too lazy and fat to use them.

Eddie:
All right, time for another little drinkie before we go?

Saffie:
Where are you going?

Eddie:
New York.

Saffie:
I didn't think they let people with convictions in.

Eddie:
Darling, it's not a conviction.

Patsy:
Just a firm belief.

Eddie:
Yes.

Patsy:
I'm not happy!

Sarah:
Does your mother know you write plays and things?

Saffie:
No, and I don't want her to either, so don't say anything.

Sarah:
Oh, you don't need to worry. I don't speak to her anymore. Not since she gave me that chemical peel.

Saffie:
Well, it wasn't so much chemical. And not so much peel. She set fire to your pig-tails.

Sarah:
It's good job I'm thick-skinned... Well, except for the shoulder.

Saffie:
My life just flashed before my eyes.

Eddie:
What was it like? A Bergman film without the jokes?

Eddie:
Had two husbands, one was too short, one was gay. Still, sweetie, if you want to know how to peck a dwarf on the cheek as he's walking out of the house to the disco in your dress , then I'm your girl.

Patsy:
I thought a little mosey down Bond Street, a little sniff around Gucci, sidle up to Ralph Lauren, pass through Browns and on to Quags for a light lunch.

Eddie:
I did tell you the facts of life, didn't I, sweetie?

Saffie:
If you mean that time you sat on my bed and shook me awake at two in the morning, stoned out of your brain, and slurred into my ear 'By the way, sweetie, people have it off,' then yes, you told me the facts of life.

Eddie:
Sweetie, what are you drinking?

Patsy:
Oh, this? Chanel No. 5.

Patsy:
They want you filleted and splayed on the butcher's block so they can photograph all your organs for "Heat" magazine.

Patsy:
I can get you a man.

Eddie:
Well, how?

Patsy:
Pay.

Patsy:
[to Saffy] Oh you little B*TCH TROLL FROM HELL.

Patsy:
[to Saffy] Miserable little turnip.

Eddie:
Family? Family? God, I hope you're not inviting that bloody, bollocky, selfish, two-faced, chicken, bastard, pig-dog man are you?

Bubble:
I turned on the, ah, watchamacallit this morning. I want to say telephone. No, that's not right. You look at it.

Eddie:
Television?

Bubble:
That's it.

Patsy:
One whiff of a cocoa bean and our customers would fly like vampires before garlic. Jeremy's must remain a sterile oasis, free from street eaters and coffee carriers. Aseptic and razor-sharp as our customers' hipbones. These women shop for lunch! Labels are their only sustenance! Their skeleton legs in Manolos have worn trenches down the pavement of Sloane Street. Their arm sinews have just enough muscles left in their arm to lift up a credit card.

Eddie:
Mother, are you still on the computer?

Gran:
Yes, dear. Sometimes you get into a porn loop and just can't get out.

Saffie:
[commenting on Patsy's new Botox look] You look like a haggis with pointed toes. A tight old bladder skin holding together some rotting offal.

Eddie:
I thought I told you to buy a laptop.

Bubble:
A lap... top? Top? [opens her bag and reveals a small lap dog]

Eddie:
Get rid of it.

Bubble:
Oh! But I've grown so fond! And it's SO cute. And... it's not just for life! It's for Christmas!

Gran:
Talking to yourself dear? That's the first sign of madness, you know.

Eddie:
Really? I thought it was talking to you.

Patsy:
Pretty big tits.

Bubble:
Black matter is dragging us all towards eternal dalmatian... And before long we will all be cloned and turned into sheep. So, to avoid this fate, I am being picked up by a spaceship that is hidden in the tail of an approaching comet. [doorbell rings] That'll be them buzzing now.

Patsy:
[about Edina's cell phone ringing] Oh, Eddie... is it... Is it a bee?

Eddie:
In this body there is a thin person dying to get out.

Gran:
Just the one, dear?

[repeated line]

Eddie:
Sweetie!

Eddie:
Honey... Is the actress playing me fat?

Saffie:
Oh mom... In the whole world, there will never be anybody as FAT as you!

[repeated line]

Eddie:
Are you MAD?

Patsy:
[to Saffie] Oh, you little b*tch troll from hell! You mean, ungrateful, little bit of dirt! You think you've had it so hard. I never had the things you had when I was born.

Saffron:
Oh, here we go.

Patsy:
I never had friends or parties or presents. Ya know? The first few years of my life I was just locked in a room!

Patsy:
[to Saffie] I resent you!

Edina:
[Trying to calm Patsy] No you don't.

Patsy:
Yes I do. I hate you! Just when my life hit a good patch, along you came, you miserable piece of flesh. You should've ended up in the dust bin! The incinerator was too good for you! You know, when I heard that Eddie was pregnant, I told her to abort! ABORT, ABORT, ABORT! I said "Chuck it down the pan!". I said "Bring me..."

Saffron:
[Interrupting] A knitting needle?

Patsy:
[Fiercely] A knitting needle!

Saffron:
[Saffie slaps Patsy's face]

Patsy:
My mother didn't give birth. She had something removed!

[At Edina's 40th birthday party]

Oliver:
I think we should leave. I see no point in celebrating the fact that she's lived so BLOODY LONG.

Eddie:
So, Marsh. Where's my pres.?

Marshall:
Sweetheart...

Bo:
I have the gift. Oh, many more.

Eddie:
What the buggery bollocks is this?

Bo:
It's a copy - it's a signed copy - of my book on ancient oils.

Eddie:
[flinging it behind her shoulder] Next!

Eddie:
[on turning 40] This is something that is happening to me. This is something that I've got to deal with, alright. I'm sorry if that sounds selfish, but it's me, me, me!

Eddie:
Do you think we ought to get some hormone replacement packs in for emergencies? Do you think so, darling? I mean, one day, sweetie, you could come home and find me just a little toothless old wad of gum on the floor. You'd have to slap some glands on me, quick. I'll get some.

[first lines]

Saffron:
Morning.

Eddie:
Hello death, hello oblivion. What time is it, darling?

Saffron:
Ten.

Eddie:
Oh, God, I'd better be off.

Eddie:
If my mother hadn't uncrossed her legs, I could be two weeks younger.

Eddie:
No! No, no, no darling! I will not have a surprise. I will not have a surprise party. If it's going to be a surprise, I want to know about it, alright! Because I want to decide when I'm going to come and what I'm going to wear if I do come, alright? You can't expect me to go to any old bloody party, darling.

Saffron:
Look, I didn't know what you'd want, so I invited a few people round for family lunch.

Eddie:
Family? What are you calling family, darling? We're hardly the bloody Waltons, are we. Not just you and my mother, I hope. Is it?

Saffron:
Look, will you stop behaving like this, please?

Eddie:
Darling, this is how I behave. Anyway, I'm allowed to behave however I want on my birthday. House rule, remember, sweetie? Hmm? Especially to someone who didn't even think I might like a champagne breakfast. Not even a bloody cup of tea to wake up to on my birthday, no that would be asking too much, wouldn't it?

Eddie:
Oh, sweetie, sweetie... Oooh, sweetie, darling... Darling, they're gorgeous. Where did you get them, sweetie? Hmm? Was it Harvey Nichols, darling?

Saffron:
Yes.

Eddie:
Well, you should tell me. I can get a discount there, sweetie.

Saffron:
I'm glad you like them.

Eddie:
Well, darling, they're hardly the ill-judged tat you normally give me. I mean, Lacroix, darling... They are Lacroix, aren't they, darling? They're not just something you put in the box, are they, sweetie?

Saffron:
Do you like them or not?

Eddie:
I like them if they're Lacroix.

Saffron:
Well they are.

Eddie:
Oh, good. I like them, darling.

Eddie:
Oh, sweetie, oh, darling. Can you help me, sweetie, darling? I'm having a hot flush. Darling, darling, quickly, feel my skin. Feel my skin. Feel it.

Saffron:
You're standing too close to the kettle.

Eddie:
I thought I was drying up there for a minute, sweetie.

Eddie:
All my friends are gay. All my friends are gay.

Eddie:
God, I hate Morgan Fairchild.

Patsy:
I hate Jane bloody Fonda.

Eddie:
I hope all their old skin comes back to haunt them.

Patsy:
I bought that bloody woman's tapes. I paid for those plastic domes on her chest. I want them when she dies.

Eddie:
You know, there must be a moment, about a week after death, when all those women finally achieve the figure they desire.

Patsy:
Skeleton thin with plastic bumps.

Eddie:
The flesh will rot away, but the bumps will still be there. Little coffins full of bones and bumps.

Patsy:
Yes.

Eddie, Patsy:
[singing] They say our love won't pay the rent...

Eddie:
I'm Cher, Patsy. I'm doing the Cher bit.

[last lines]

Eddie, Patsy:
[singing] Wheels on fire, rolling down the road / Best notify my next of kin, this wheel shall explode.

Patsy:
Mash potato. Watch out, darling.

Patsy:
[singing] I can't get no... satisfaction.

Saffron:
You stay and talk to them.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Oh no.

Saffron:
Go back and talk to them, please.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
I'd rather kiss a baboon's bottom.

Eddie:
You are what you eat remember.

Saffron:
Which makes you a large, vegetarian tart.

Oliver:
Justin and I have a shop.

Eddie:
A shop? That' s what you're calling it is it? A few miserable bits of furniture. You have to ring a bell before they'll let you in. Unwelcoming? Vincent Price could take lessons.

Eddie:
[to Patsy] I went to a party the other night, Pats. I thought I looked so gorgeous, so cool, darling. I just flirted and was loud and gorgeous all night. You know, I was Kathleen Turner, Marisa Berenson, everybody...

Plum Berkeley:
Is that your daughter downstairs?

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
Did you see her?

Plum Berkeley:
A bit fat, isn't she?

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
She's not fat, she's pregnant.

Patsy Stone:
Yes, well anyway...

Plum Berkeley:
By that big black guy?

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
What?

Plum Berkeley:
Is she pregnant by that big black guy?

Patsy Stone:
Shut up, Plum, just salute the sun!

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
Pats?

Patsy Stone:
No, Eddie.

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
He's Black? [visions of a mixed-race toddler dance through Edina's head] I'm gonna have a mixed-race baby! I'm gonna have a mixed-race baby, darling!

Patsy Stone:
It doesn't make any difference, it's still a baby!

Edina 'Eddy' Monsoon:
It makes a difference, darling, a mixed-race baby is the finest accessory a person in my position could ever have, sweetheart! Oh, my God, it's the must-have of the season! It's the CHANEL of babies!

Eddie:
[to Emma "Baby Spice" Bunton] Well, see, the trouble with you is you're not giving me anything. You know, if you want something from the tabs, you gotta give 'em something back. You're just kinda flatlining nice and sweet, are you? And they want a little bit of a heartbeat. They don't wanna know your mum's your best friend, do they? They want it to be some one-armed, lesbian assailant seeker! They want the full cellulite shots! They want a forty-in-the-bed party with your Spice mates! They want your main lining, arm-jacking, smack-crack nightmare, darling! They want you fileted all over the butcher's block so they can photograph all your organs for "Heat" magazine! I mean, frankly, for once, I would like to see you foaming at the mouth, stinking of piss in the gutter with this little thumb stuck up Justin Timberlake's ass and you wearing nothing but a Gucci belt!

Edina:
And for lunch, sweetheart, for Christmas lunch, who comes to that?

Saffron:
Well, there's me and John...

Patsy:
Is he from Gabon?

Edina:
What?

Patsy:
Is he from Gabon?

Edina:
Gabon?

Patsy:
Yes, is he from Gabon?

Edina:
Why are you saying that...

Patsy:
Gabon.

Edina:
Will you stop saying that!

Patsy:
Will you ask her if he's from the Gabon.

Edina:
[Irritated] Is he from Gabon?

Saffron:
NO!

Edina:
No, he's not from Gabon, so shut up!

Eddie:
You only work in a shop you know, you can drop the attitude.

Eddie:
God, it's a rather depressing thought that you might live on after me, isn't it? You, huh. That's how I'm going to be remembered, is it? What, through you?

Saffie:
Well what do you want, a statue?

Eddie:
YES.

Saffie:
A great big, fat, ugly, armless statue?

Eddie:
[pause] I've got arms. I've got arms. I just want to bequeath something to the nation, that's all, not just you.

[Eddie is in a body wrap]

Saffie:
Mom, can you come downstairs please?

Eddie:
Sweetie, have you seen what your talking to? Tutankamun.

Saffie:
Mom, it's important. I've got some bad news.

Eddie:
Darling, I can't move for an hour, I'm being shrunk and then I've got to go pick Patsy up from the hospital.

[Saffie sighs in annoyance]

Eddie:
Well don't "tu-tuhhh." You think she wanted to get her stomach pumped again? No! She thought they were her antibiotics, darling.

[first lines]

Patsy:
Do you want some ecstasy Eddy?

Eddie:
Are you mad, darling? Nobody's taking that any more. People have been dragged from raves bleeding from every orifice.

Patsy:
This isn't a rave. It's a "happening".

Eddie:
Don't force to take it, Pats. I promised Saffy I wouldn't, darling.

Patsy:
She'll never find out. She didn't scare me.

Saffie:
Mum! Keep the noise down.

Eddie:
Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone.

Saffie:
That's lovely.

Eddie:
I hear you call my name and it feels like home.

Saffie:
Who said that?

Eddie:
It's Madonna darling.

Nurse:
I'll see what I can do. But personally, I think you're wasting your money. You want to lose weight?

Eddie:
Mmm...

Nurse:
You want to move that fat bottom of yours and get your mouth sewn up. You want to help the environment?

Eddie:
Mmm...

Nurse:
Use your fat bottom and plug up the ozone layer.

Eddie:
Alright! Are you trained at this?

Nurse:
I am a nurse. Bandaging is what I do best. And I've got the manual.

Eddie:
Good.

Nurse:
Right. Have you recently had or are you due for your period?

Eddie:
Well, yes, both. Is that important?

Nurse:
No. I'm just making conversation.

Eddie:
Is it alright if I move?

Nurse:
Oh, there you go again. Mistaking me for someone who gives a damn! Who cares if you're fat or thin? Who cares if you live or die?

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Edwina dear, your father is dead.

Saffie:
Well done.

Eddie:
"Well done"? Did she finish him off or something?

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
That was it, wasn't it, dear? I'm not going mad, am I?

Saffie:
Grandad has died! Is that all you can do? All you can say? Don't you think Gran needs a little bit more?

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Oh, don't drag me into it, dear. She's doing her best, I'm sure. Now don't you get yourself into a state.

Saffie:
Your father is dead! What does that make you feel, mum? [Edina is smiling]... And you can stop smirking!

Nurse:
My God, woman! What have you done?

Eddie:
What?

Eddie:
[to Saffie] I've put on twelve inches all over my body! I mean, my body absorbs mud! Every pore is now an over-eater!

Eddie:
[to Saffie] I do care, darling. Did he leave a will? What? I'm just asking! You know, asking!

Art Gallery Assistant:
Can I help you?

Eddie:
I want to buy some art.

Art Gallery Assistant:
Have you seen something here?

Eddie:
I don't know. I just... you know. I just want to get some. What else have you got?

Art Gallery Assistant:
We're a specialist gallery. Perhaps if you knew what you were looking for I could help you.

Eddie:
Is there someone else who can help me? I want to, you know, buy some art. I'm a collector. You know, that sort of modern stuff.

Eddie:
No, no grave for me, darling. I'm a Buddhist anyway. I want to be laid down on a rock in the middle of the Ganges darling, and just be pecked by birds. I don't want to end up as some drugged-up zombie in a hospital, alright?

Saffie:
I thought that would appear to you.

Eddie:
I want to die with a bit of dignity, you know. I don't want the last words I hear to be "switch her off'.

Patsy:
What am I supposed to do if you die?

Eddie:
Get cabs!

Patsy:
Eddie tells me that Mr. M... you know... dead.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
That's right.

Patsy:
Well, I um... condole you.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Thank you dear.

Patsy:
He chose the right season to go.

Saffie:
What do you mean?

Patsy:
Well Harvey Nicks have got some really tasty little black numbers at the moment. And black is like "in". You wouldn't have to wear it only the once. It's my job to know these things.

Eddie:
Family? Family? God, I hope you're not inviting that bloody, bollocky, selfish, two-faced, chicken, bastard, pig-dog man have you?

Saffie:
You could just say Dad! I'd still know what you meant.

Saffie:
So Marshall, how's the script coming?

Eddie:
Oh no, do we have to know?

Marshall:
Well it's at a real interesting stage.

Sondra Lorrance:
You're doing just fine.

Marshall:
We had Keanu Reeves pull out, which, which we feel really positive about now because it's taken a different course entirely. And, and a Japanese company has taken up the option to do it in animation form.

Sondra Lorrance:
Pat yourself on the back for that.

Eddie:
A cartoon...?

Patsy:
A cartoon!

Marshall:
Animation!

Eddie:
A cartoon!

Sondra Lorrance:
I too have felt great sadness. You are talking to someone who has sat through "Beaches" twelve times.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Really?

Patsy:
Do you think the Yankee bimbo from hell is gone?

Eddie:
God, I hope so, darling!

Eddie:
This is... This is a, sort of... corpse... in an open, oaken, oblong coffin... Silky lining. It's a dead body, Pats.

Patsy:
Yeah, but is it art, Eddie?

Eddie:
No, sweetie, it's my father.

Patsy:
Are you sure?

Eddie:
Yeah, I think so. But I've just never seen him in a suit before.

Eddie:
I mean, what's the point of grieving if there's no one there to see you do it?

Patsy:
You're right, Eddie. You're always right!

[last lines]

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
Let's hope someone fills them in before they get help.

Patsy:
Eddie!

Eddie:
I should be there! Shouldn't I? I mean, he would want me to be there.

Patsy:
He'd want you to be there.

Eddie:
He'd want me to be there. He'd want me to be there!

Patsy:
Yeah.

Eddie:
He'd want you to be there, as well.

Patsy:
No, I don't... I don't think he'd want me to be there.

Eddie:
If you want the house darling.

Patsy:
He'd want me to be there!

Eddie:
He'd want you there!

Eddie, Patsy:
Come on, darling.

Eddie:
I don't want to die! I don't wan to die!

Saffie:
Oh, dear!

Edina:
I'd just once like to take my clothes off and not be marked by them...

Patsy:
Eddy, you know your stomach's like a dog that doesn't know when it's going to be fed next. It just hangs around until you want to kick it.

[first lines]

Saffie:
[Edina turns off the music] Thank you.

Eddie:
[gasps] Panic attack! Panic attack! Panic attack!

Eddie:
[drunkenly] I don't know why it went wrong with Justin. I mean, you know, cause we did just adore each other, you know.

Patsy:
He's gay.

Eddie:
Everybody's there, everybody! Big names, you know. Chanel, Dior, Lagerfeld, Givenchy, Gaultier, darling. Names, names, names. Every rich b*tch from New York is in there. Hockwenden, Ruttenstein, Vandebilt, Rothschild, Hookenfookenberger, Dachshund, Rottweiler, sweetie.

Patsy:
A row of skeletons with Jackie O hairdos.

Eddie:
Harper's, Tatler, English "Vogue", American "Vogue", French "Vogue", bloody Aby-bloody-ssinian bloody "Vogue", darling. Jeff Banks and Selina Scott couldn't even get a ticket, darling.

Eddie:
Sweetie, make mama a cup of coffee. You're so clever and you know where everything is, darling, don't you? I think it's marvelous the way that you know where things are, darling. I think you're marvelous.

Saffie:
Flattery won't turn me into your servant. The coffee is on the table in front of you. Pick up a spoon, put coffee in cup, pour on boiling water...

Eddie:
...Yes, yes, and scald hands and get third-degree burns, screaming in agony. Do you really want THAT on your conscience this morning, darling?

Saffie:
All right...

Eddie:
Thank you, sweetheart. No, not instant, darling. Not instant. Grind some beans, for God's sake. Instant coffee: is just old beans that have been cremated. I don't want THEM. I want them entire, with life force today. Could you not pull that face while you grind? I don't really want to drink a cup full of your anger... Anyway, I shouldn't be drinking coffee, I shouldn't be bloody drinking coffee! I don't want any coffee, darling! Throw all that coffee away! I don't want any bloody coffee! I just wanted some fennel twig tea, or something, I don't know.

Saffie:
Major motion pictures are made, huge concerts are put on in stadiums. I mean, for God's sake, five hundred thousand troops were mobilized in the Gulf, and a war fought and won in less time, and without everyone included having a nervous breakdown and being sent flowers. It cannot be that difficult.

Eddie:
Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Darling, every troop didn't have to contain Yasmine Le Bon. The generals didn't require big hugs after every maneuver, and the whole operation did not have to be co-ordinated to rap and Japanese avant-garde pipe music because, you know, darling, I think if it HAD, the outcome might have been rather different, don't you? Hmm?... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and get dressed.

Eddie:
Why do you have to pick on everything I do? Darling, all I want is a few little things, a few little pleasures, a few little crutches to help me get through life, darling.

Saffie:
Get through? Mum, you've absolved yourself of responsibility. You live from self-induced crisis to self-induced crisis. Someone does your hair, someone chooses what you wear, someone does your brain, someone tells you what to eat and three times a week someone sticks a hose up your bum and flushes it all out of you.

Eddie:
Oh. OH... It's called colonic irrigation, darling. It's not to be sniffed at.

Saffie:
Why can't you just go to the toilet like normal people?

Eddie:
Is that what you really want me to be, darling? NORMAL? Some boring, old, normal, old, toilet goer, huh? HMM? "Where is mommy?" "She's on the TOILET." "But I want to go somewhere interesting and meet exciting people". "Well, she can't take you while she's on the bloody TOILET". Why, anybody can go to the toilet, darling, these days.

Saffie:
Well, they obviously haven't seen YOU drunk.

Eddie:
Right. Now, Bubble. I want a list of every PR company, every record company in this country. I want a copy of "Who's Who" and the latest edition of "Hello!" magazine. Let's get "celebritied"-up!... Come on! Bubble, I want four huge video screens down either side of the catwalk. I want to flash-up pictures of sad, but beautiful children, happy gay couples, slogans like "World Health", "No Pollution", "Fashion Cares", all right, darling? And print up thousands of new invitations on green, totally recycled paper, and cab them around to everybody. Now, now! Now, darling. Now, sweetie! Now, now!... Okay, get on to Princess Anne's people and tell them that everybody there will be mentally ill. Tell her we'll sponsor her to wear a designer dress, okay? And make sure she realizes that if she doesn't, those little children won't get anything... Bubble, press release: "Free Champagne Reception". Get on to Mo?t et Chandon, and tell them it's for charity! Get on to Joan Collins, and tell her it's free champagne! Oh, listen, look, darling. I don't want to wear this, sweetie. I want to look completely happening and unbiased. I want to... No, sweetie, just get me something from every collection. Alright, darling, come on! Come on! Leave that, darling, leave that.

Eddie:
Stop looking at me like that, sweetie! What do I have to do to convince you I've given up drinking? Hmm? I had one bloody drink, sweetie! Are you accusing me of something?

Saffie:
Have you looked in the mirror this morning? Your eye bags are ruched.

Eddie:
What are you eating, there? What are you eating?

Saffie:
Toast.

Eddie:
What is that on that toast?

Saffie:
It's honey, Mother.

Eddie:
Honey, darling? That's not honey, that's my bloody royal jelly moisturizer, sweetie. Good God, you're eating three hundred pounds worth of royal jelly, darling. It's been hand-squished out of a bee's backside. And not any old bloody bee, but the bloody Gucci of bees, darling. This is the stuff, sweetie, that Jackie Stallone would kill for this, darling. [scrapes it off the toast] That's better. Make me a cup of coffee, darling.

Saffie:
You know where it is, make it yourself.

Eddie:
I don't know where it bloody is, do I?

Saffie:
Please don't swear.

Eddie:
Oh, look at the time, sweetie. I should be in the office! Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie, sweetie! Tell them, tell them the car hasn't arrived, there's traffic door-to-door, and I'm not well! I'm not well!

Saffie:
Hello? My mother's sitting here in her dressing gown, with her face...

Eddie:
[Edina starts screaming and snatches the phone from Saffy] Yes, it's me, darling. "Dressing gown", she knows nothing about fashion. Anyway, now listen, sweetie. I'm literally out the door when my bloody car turns up, alright? And I'm managing to keep a lid on things this end, alright? I know you can manage that end, Bubble darling, alright? I'm chanting as we speak, bye-bye, darling. [hangs up. Saffy is staring at her] You're not a Buddhist, darling. You wouldn't understand.

Saffie:
Mum, you did for a week, which admittedly for you is a record.

Eddie:
It's not a fad, darling. It's not like crystals. [Buddhist chanting] Omrankatingtingtong... Omrabremnimah...

Saffie:
Please, stop it!

Eddie:
Sweetie, you wouldn't say that if you knew how much we owe to my chanting, darling. A lot of things in this house, this HOUSE wouldn't be here, darling. I chanted for this gorgeous house! I chanted to be successful and believe in myself... [aside] Please, let me make some more money so I can buy Saffron some more books and a car... Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!... Please. [to Saffy] In Buddhist, obviously, darling, not in English, when I do it properly.

Saffie:
What is it? Some sort of a cosmic cash machine?

Eddie:
Oh, God! Could you try not to be so cynical today. You know, today I need just a little bit of bloody support.

Saffie:
Well, why is today such a panic, anyway? It's only a fashion show, and you've had six months to prepare it. I mean, why is everything always so hysterical? I mean, all you've got to do is play a bit of music, turn on the lights, get some people who've thrown up everything they've ever eaten and send them down a catwalk. Greater feasts have been achieved in less time and with less fuss.

Eddie:
Not quite with it, darling, are you?

Eddie:
I forgot to ring Chukhani. He was going to channel a color for me today. [dials a number on the phone] Chukhani, it's Edina. Green. Thank you, darling. [Saffron laughs to herself] Don't look at me like that. There's more to it, you know.

Saffie:
Of course, there is. The bill.

Eddie:
Sweetie, sweetie. He doesn't just choose the color... Listen, because you might learn something, now. He doesn't just choose the color himself, darling. It is related to who I was in a previous existence.

Saffie:
And who was it you were in a previous life, then? I suppose you were the Elizabeth Taylor of the Ming dynasty?

Eddie:
Well, close, yes.

Saffie:
So how come you've ended up just a mad, fat, old cow?

Eddie:
Will you stop saying the word "fat"? Stop it, now! Stop it! I know you're only saying it to annoy me. Aren't you, darling?

Saffie:
No, I'm saying it because it's true.

Eddie:
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!

Saffie:
What happened then?

Eddie:
Darling. Darling, look at Mummy. Look at Mummy, sweetheart. Do I need surgery, darling?

Saffie:
Yes.

Eddie:
Alright.

Saffie:
Get your mouth sewn up.

Eddie:
I'm still here, darling. I heard that.

Eddie:
Yes, but I pay you to interpret my dreams, so why can't you at least find a hidden depth? Well, I, I'm not willing to believe I'm simply THAT obvious. And, if you are bloody psychic psychologist, how come I'm always having to call YOU, hmm? Oh, just stuff it!

Eddie:
La Croix, sweetie! It's alright, isn't it? A bit tight, but it's alright, isn't it? You know, people will think, "Wow, it's a La Croix!", okay? I just can't find anything to go with it.

Saffie:
Maybe I can throw up on something for you.

Eddie:
[puts on a jacket] I'll wear this one.

Saffie:
Oh, I see. Somebody already has.

Eddie:
Jean Muir.

Patsy:
What are you wearing, Eddy?

Eddie:
La Croix.

Patsy:
It's fabulous.

Eddie:
Good... Thank you.

Eddie:
Darling, stop me drinking today because Saffy's threatened to leave home again.

Patsy:
Darling, you don't drink.

Eddie:
Yes, I know I'm not a drinker, but you know what she's like, I mean...

Patsy:
A pig.

Eddie:
God, I must ring in and tell them I'm coming.

Patsy:
What will you drink if you stop drinking?

Eddie:
I shall drink water. [pause] It's a mixer, Patsy. We have it with whiskey... I mean, you know what it's like, you've given up drinking before.

Patsy:
The worst eight hours of my life.

Eddie:
Right, it's me. I'm on my way in. Everything's completely under control this end, how is it with you? Lights... Models... Guest list?... Just do your best, darling. I'm rushing. Bye.

Patsy:
[Saffron has refused to go to Edina's fashion show and her son, Serge, is also unavailable] You know, I sometimes wonder what the point of having children is if they're not going to turn up for your launches? Did you tell him how important for you it was, darling?

Eddie:
Yeah, I tell him. I faxed the bloody dean, the bollocky halls of residence and the buggery mountain rescue. I mean, what more can I do?

Patsy:
Nothing, and you shouldn't have to. I mean, look at you. You've been a fantastic mother. You've let them ruin your figure. Your stomach's stretched beyond recognition, you've got tits down to your knees, and what for, for God's sake? For a potholer who's worn nothing but a purple nylon tracksuit and a Gazza t-shirt for the past two years. Cut the cord, darling.

Eddie:
Right. Now, Bubble, did all the models turn up?

Bubble:
Yeah, every single one.

Eddie:
Good, good, thank God.

Bubble:
Except one.

Eddie:
Except one? You're not going to tell me it's Yasmin Le Bon, darling?

Bubble:
No.

Eddie:
Thank God!

Bubble:
Oh, no, sorry, yes. Yasmin Le Bon is ill.

Eddie:
Oh, my buggery bollocks. Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me earlier?

Bubble:
Well, her husband's just phoned, and said "Simon Le Bon", which I thought was really amusing.

Eddie:
Amusing, darling?

Bubble:
Yeah. Very modern of him to have taken his wife's name.

Eddie:
Oh, Bubble, sweety...

Bubble:
I phoned around, and I think I may have found a replacement.

Eddie:
Good. Who? Who?

Bubble:
Betty Boo.

Eddie:
Sh*t!

Eddie:
Now, come on, come on, come on. How's the celebrity and V.I.P. list looking?

Bubble:
Good, I think. But you know me, I don't know anybody.

Eddie:
Now, come on, darling. Come on, darling! Just tell me about Joan Collins, Stephanie Powers, Paloma Picasso, Charlotte Rampling, Catherine Deneuve. Give me some names, darling.

Bubble:
So far?

Eddie:
So far.

Bubble:
So far Sinnita and Anne Robinson definite. We're still chasing Anneke Rice. Gave up on Norma Major.

Eddie:
Now, just get me my phone book now, would you, darling? Get me my phone book. I mean Princess Di has...

Bubble:
Anne.

Eddie:
...to have somebody to sit next to. You don't get Princess Di to a major...

Bubble:
Anne.

Eddie:
...fashion event.

Bubble:
Anne. Princess Anne.

Eddie:
As well as, is it, darling?

Bubble:
Instead of. Only. Oh, possibly with daughter.

Eddie:
Why, why?

Bubble:
Well, there was a bit of a mix-up. I didn't make the call, but she's very game and a really nice person.

Eddie:
Oh, I wouldn't care if she was Mother bloody Teresa, darling! It doesn't matter for our purposes! What we need is a Princess with a press following and a designer dress on her back!

Patsy:
Not someone who looks like she runs up her own.

Bubble:
Well, her people were a bit cagey about which designer she favoured.

Patsy:
The only label she wears is "Drip Dry".

Patsy:
Right, I'm off. Are we eating?

Eddie:
Yes, after. French, Italian, whatever you like, sweetie.

Patsy:
No darling, no one's eating that sort of food anymore. There's a fabulous new Japanese in Mayfair. Everything is raw. Anything with a pulse is lunch.

Eddie:
Alright, darling, whatever.

Bubble:
Oh, the magazine called for you, Patsy. They need some decisions about this month's cover.

Patsy:
Oh, really? Whatever can they need to know? I mean, it's the same every month: a model in make-up with a vacant look on her face...

Patsy:
Have you got something I can pee into? I want to do another test.

Eddie:
Bloody hell, Patsy! Wash it this time, will you? Anyway, darling, who was it you were with last night?

Patsy:
Oh, he was just a windscreen washer I picked up at the traffic lights...

Eddie:
Oh.

Patsy:
Buns so tight he was bouncing off the walls.

Eddie:
Bye, Pats. Darling, bye.

Patsy:
Darling, you are a fabulous, wonderful individual.

Eddie:
Oh, thank you.

Patsy:
And remember, I've known you longer than your daughter, and anything you do is alright by me. You're my best friend, sweetheart. Can I take your car?

Eddie:
I'm going down in history, Pats, as the woman that put Princess Anne in a Vivienne Westwood basque.

Patsy:
I mean, Betty Boo and Dannii Minogue did their best, but frankly...

Eddie:
If I squat down I'll piss myself.

Eddie:
Sweety, darling. Sweety, darling, Mummy's here. Sweety, darling, Mummy is... Sweety, darling, let me in. Sweety, darling, let me in!

Eddie:
[to Saffron] You've probably got something rather interesting to listen to on Radio 4, have you?

[last lines]

Saffie:
[on the phone] Oh, hang on a moment. [to Edina] Mum, it's the Betty Ford Clinic.

Eddie:
What do they want, sweetie?

Saffie:
They say they're confirming the booking for four weeks from next Monday.

Eddie:
Sweetie, I think it's the only way. Don't you, darling? [Saffron nods] I'm going to swallow my pride and do it, if that's alright by you. [Saffron nods again] You've been very good to me. Thank you.

Saffie:
[hugging Edina] Well done!

Eddie:
Thank you, Sweetie. [as soon as Saffron leaves, Edina talks into the phone] Thanks, Pats.

Eddie:
You took from me the only man I ever really loved. You're just a spiteful b*tch, Penny Caspar!

Penny:
Morse. Penny Caspar-Morse, now.

Saffie:
[Edina is chanting in Buddhist] Oh, dear.

Eddie:
Morning, sweetie. I'm only going to wear orange from now on, darling. Religious purposes.

Saffie:
You've been getting dressed for three hours and you still look like a bloated citrus fruit.

Eddie:
Sweetie, it is a very healing color, a very positive color. [continues chanting] I'm getting rid of all my other clothes.

Saffie:
Is that really the best you could come up with?

Eddie:
Oh, God! Well, only this and the deaded kaftan fitted. Well, I say fitted. It was filled to capacity. I mean, all my clothes have got stretch marks, darling.

[explaining why she never did exercise]

Eddie:
In the sixties, we were too stoned to jog. In the seventies, we had platform shoes.

Justin:
That high.

Eddie:
and in the eighties...

Justin:
Brain cells destroyed in the sixties. See, you know, she can't remember. The Age of the Punk.

Eddie:
Yes, punk darling. We were too busy putting pins through our noses.

Saffie:
But you were too old to be a punk, weren't you?

Eddie:
Darling, I was a punk.

Saffie:
I know.

Eddie:
[looks in mirror] Euch!... I am a little "Germaine Greer-ish", aren't I, sweetie?

Saffie:
I think she's great!

Eddie:
Oh, darling, she was once cool, but Mr. Gravity's been very unkind to that woman!

Eddie:
Honestly, I mean, you wouldn't believe how much I weigh.

Saffie:
I would.

Eddie:
I know I don't look hugely overweight, darling...

Saffie:
You do.

Eddie:
I mean, what I saw in that mirror shocked me. Barbara Bush with no clothes on. I don't believe it.

Saffie:
Who did you expect?

Eddie:
Well, Marisa Berenson, of course.

Saffie:
Who?

Eddie:
I have only ever seen Marisa Berenson. Sometimes Cher.

Saffie:
Pre-knife. Do you want a cup of tea?

Eddie:
Oh, no. Coffee. Black, I shouldn't drink milk.

Eddie:
Oh, God. Why am I so fat?

Saffie:
You're not SO fat.

Eddie:
I am! Why?

Saffie:
Well, for start, you eat too much, you drink too much and you take no excercise.

Eddie:
Darling, darling, please. It's far more likely to be an allergy to something, you know... You know, sort of a build-up of toxins, or something, or hormone imbalance, isn't it? Hmm? And also, sweetie, did you know I've got a very heavy aura? Did you know that? That's why animals love me, darling.

Saffie:
They just see you as something to hibernate in.

Saffie:
Look, mum. All you've got to do is eat less and take a bit of exercise.

Eddie:
Sweetie, if it was that easy, everyone would be doing it. Anyway, I don't know what you mean. I do take exercise!

Saffie:
You get out of bed, it ends there.

Eddie:
I know what I'll do, I'll wait 'til Patsy gets here and phone her doctor. He'll do anything. And if that doesn't work, darling. I'm gonna go down to that Chinese clinic...

Eddie:
Well, sweetie. The reason... It's not what I eat or how much I eat, it's these things in here. This fridge is just filled with crap, darling. Just filled with crap. Honestly. Look at this! I should only be eating organic food, food with the dirt still on it, darling... Throw out all the food in this fridge. It's revolting. I should just be eating green and white holistic food, shouldn't I sweetie? I shouldn't be eating... Oh, that's still got some in it, sweetie. I shoudn't be eating all this, should I, darling? Anyway, first I'm going to go on a fast. [Saffron stares in disbelief] Well, it's not the sort of fast you're thinking of, darling. It's a special fast.

Saffie:
Sort of an "eating a lot" sort of fast?

[on the subject of Eddy's fatness]

Eddie:
Just try and help me. Try.

Saffie:
Well, what can I say?

Eddie:
Well, darling, just try to be little bit less Western in your thinking, if you can, please. I mean, you realize, of course, that in Zen terms everything in the universe is just molecules, don't you? Ying and yong, ping and pong... Mmm? You know that, darling? These are my molecules and that's your little clump of molecules over there, sweetie. I mean, in real terms, there's no difference between me and the coffee, me and the table, me and a tree, me and Madonna, for God's sake!

Saffie:
Except that you have a fatter bottom.

Eddie:
Oh, shut up!

Saffie:
Well, what you want me to say? Mum, it doesn't matter to me that you haven't seen your navel in twenty five years, or that you can wear your stomach as a kilt. Just tell me you're happy.

Eddie:
How can I be happy with this great bulk hanging off of this skeleton? I can't.

[still on the subject of Eddy's fatness]

Saffie:
All right then. Do something about it but do something sensible.

Eddie:
Pshst. Can you not use that word in this house, please, darling.

[still on the subject of Eddy's fatness]

Saffie:
I mean, you're not ill. You don't have a disease...

Eddie:
As far as I know.

Saffie:
You're not menopausal?

Eddie:
No, still very much menstrual, thank you, sweetie!

Saffie:
You've been tested for everything under the sun, so you're not allergic to anything...

Eddie:
Wrong. Jelly fish!

Saffie:
There's more of your blood sitting in test-tubes around the world then is currently circulating in your veins. I mean, you've tried every fad-drug, every fad-diet that's ever existed. I mean, more money is being poured into your quest for "Twigginess" than goes in aid of most Third Word nations and somehow, Mum, somehow, you're still two stone overweight.

Eddie:
One stone, actually!

Saffie:
Mum!

Eddie:
Well, darling, I mean, you know, for my height.

Saffie:
How tall?

Eddie:
Six foot.

Saffie:
Well, you can't have anything in common. You can't have Anything to talk about.

Eddie:
Ha. She doesn't want somebody to talk to, darling.

Patsy:
I've got you to talk to.

Eddie:
Exactly. I mean, no one blinks an eye if an older man goes out with a young girl bimbo, do they? Or what's really sick... , Listen now Patsy, what is really sick, darling, is when a non-bimbo girl goes out with a really old man. That's sick, isn't it, darling.

Patsy:
Brrrr.

Saffie:
Mum, what is this world you live in? What does "bimbo" and "non-bimbo" mean?

Eddie:
The real world, darling.

[first lines]

Eddie:
Yes, yes, yes, yes... It'll be alright with a bit of jewellery. [weighing herself] Oh, God, this is stupid. No, no, no, no! I've never been this heavy. There's not enough room on my bones for that sort of weight. No, no, no, no, no, no... [drops her earings to the floor] Those are real gold, they must weight more than that. God!

Saffie:
I take it you want a chocolate croissant then?

Eddie:
"Pain au chocolat", we call it in this house, darling. And no thanks, I won't. I'll just nibble a corner of yours. There's only one thing to be done... It's just the chocolate I have to avoid in these, darling. I'm alright with the pastry.

Eddie:
[on the phone] Can I speak to Doctor Jackson, please. It's Edina.

Saffie:
Mum!

Eddie:
[to Saffron] Shh, sweetie. [into the phone] Philip, darling! It's Eddy. Look, can I have a few more of those pills I had last time? I want to lose a stone... Two weeks... Hmm, but it must be years since I had them last, isn't it?... Hmm, but they were just palpitations, for God's sake! Hmm? Are you telling me I can't have them?... What is the point of having a private doctor if he won't do what you want? Listen!... Please?... I want them to kill me!... Pilip? [to Saffron] Can you believe he's not going to give them to me, darling!

Saffie:
Good. You can't just take huge quantities of speed to lose weight.

Eddie:
You can, darling. He treats royalty, believe me. Anyway, who wouldn't suffer a minor coronary for that degree of weight loss, I ask you?

Patsy:
Good morning, Eddy.

Eddie:
Oh, Pats, look, just stand there. I'm going to lift my shirt. I want an honest opinion. [lifts her shirt up]

Patsy:
Surgery. Liposuction on the stomach and hips, umm bum lift, tit lift, lose a rib.

Patsy:
Eddy, do you remember that time I went out with Ferruzzi?

Eddie:
Saffy, this man was fifty five years old, for God's sake.

Patsy:
The only thing that got him up in the night was his bladder. Did you get it, Ed? Did you get it? The only thing he got up for was to have a slash. Remind me not to tell that one again when I'm sober.

Saffie:
Sober? Chance would be a fine thing.

Eddie:
Yes, you're right, I do need a bit of inspiration. I mean, I could go out and buy a lot of new clothes two sizes too small. but ooh I've done that before.

Eddie:
[to her ex-husband Justin] How you could have chosen to live with an evil, vicious, pot-bellied, ugly little dwarf is beyond me!

Saffie:
Oh, I just find it strange, that's all. I mean, I just can't understand how someone who could have been into absolutely everything over the past twenty years, I mean, not one trend has passed her by, yet somehow, she has conveniently dodged ever having to take any exercise. I mean, that fad, that craze was missed by a mile.

Patsy:
Don't let her torture you, Eddy. I mean, she ruined your figure in the first place.

Eddie:
Exactly!

Patsy:
She's the one who turned you into this potato that we see before us.

Justin:
Now, now, now, now! That's unfair. I mean, I liked you when you were sort of heavier. You know, you were more umm... umm cuddly.

Eddie:
Oh, God! I'm sick!

Patsy:
I'm going to throw up.

Justin:
I mean, tough, really tough. Really tough.

Patsy:
Let's go.

Eddie:
We'll go on a public transport, Pats.

Patsy:
Are you mad? I've got nothing to wear on public transport.

Eddie:
Yes, but sweetie, I will not have my daughter thinking she's so great, because she can use public transport. Anybody can use public transport, darling!

Saffie:
I know. That's the point.

Eddie:
Come on, Pats. I'll go and get that... map thing I always use. You know, the "A to Street Map" thing-book. Come on!

Eddie:
[after taking a cab into work] I mean it's public, and it's transport.

Eddie:
Now is there anything I should look at?

Bubble:
Yes, a few of them what-you-call-thems have come through.

Eddie:
What?

Bubble:
Paper comes out...

Eddie:
What, what paper?

Bubble:
Very important, urgent paper.

Eddie:
What? Tell me, tell me.

Bubble:
The paper that comes out of the answering machine.

Eddie:
Fax?

Bubble:
Messages, letters, the lot. It comes and it comes. Anyway, them. I've managed to get a couple of them down. I copied them onto me pad.

Eddie:
Let's have a look. [reading] "We've been saved by English Heritage." What does that mean?

Bubble:
Where?

Eddie:
It's here, "saved".

Bubble:
No, "sued".

Eddie:
Well it's only four letters out, I suppose that's alright. Sued, why are being sued, darling?

Bubble:
Well, that last fashion shoot you organised. Apparently, someone moved a couple of rocks, or something.

Patsy:
Moved a couple of old rocks? My God!

Eddie:
Stonehenge, Pats. Anyway...

Patsy:
So? They should be glad of the publicity.

Eddie:
Exactly, exactly. Send that one to my lawyers. Now... [reads] "Penny called from L.A.". Penny who?

Bubble:
It'll come to me. It's only urgent-ish. She's coming over in a week or two. She wanted to talk to you about a shop, or something.

Eddie:
Yeah...

Eddie:
She wanted to sell you some things, or something.

Eddie:
My shop, remember? I'm opening a shop, Bubble.

Bubble:
Ah...

Eddie:
I'm opening a shop, Pats.

Patsy:
Ooh, what are you going to sell?

Eddie:
Oh, just gorgeous things, you know.

Patsy:
Ooh, lovely.

Eddie:
Gorgeous, tasteful, little stylish little gorgeous things.

Patsy:
Expensive...

Eddie:
Obviously, yes. They'll be present-y Anoushka Hempel-y sorts of things everywhere.

Patsy:
Chocolates?

Eddie:
Garden implements, that sort of thing. [flicking through a magazine] I can't find anyone I want to look like... Oh! Oh, she's not bad. Who's that?

Patsy:
That's Ivana Trump.

Eddie:
She's good, isn't she?

Bubble:
Do you think so? She looks like a classic bimbo to me. All that terrible blonde hair piled on top of her head. False tan. She's far too thin. Always pouting. Absolutely no character. The skirt's too short. I mean, it's pathetic these older women struggling to look twenty five... Sorry.

Patsy:
I think she's tremendous.

Eddie:
You're very thin, aren't you, Bubble

Patsy:
She's emaciated, like her brain!

Bubble:
I know, it's awful. I can eat as much as I like and I just don't get fatter. I cannot put on weight.

Eddie:
Oh, how terrible...

Bubble:
I know. I wish I was more curvy. I wish I had breasts like yours.

Eddie:
No, you don't.

Bubble:
Yes, I do.

Eddie:
No, you don't.

Bubble:
I do! Great, big, large, pendulous breasts. I'd like to fill a bra.

Eddie:
No, you wouldn't. Just stop saying you do. You don't know what it feels like. You think, just because you feel better with a couple of oranges stuffed down your cups, that you know what it feels like. Well, you don't. It's hell.

Bubble:
I don't have to wear a bra. I just stuff the oranges down me vest.

Eddie:
Listen, you little bookmark. You know I only employ you because you make me look better, don't you?

Bubble:
I've remembered what she's called. Penny Caspar-Morse!

Penny:
Who's that? Pat Ast? Now, there's a girl who gives the word "hippy" a whole new meaning. Move over, Mama Cass! Move out of the way, sweetie. You're blocking my light. Is it an eclipse? No, Edwina's in the room. We can cancel Woodstock, everybody. They can play on Edwina's behind!

Patsy:
[about Edina] Poor old fat old thing. Look at her, like a beached whale in designer sheets.

Eddie:
I mean, what you two don't seem to realize is that inside of me... , inside of me, there is a thin person just screaming to get out.

Mother:
Just the one, dear?

Eddie:
And do you know, darling, the real problem started, sweetie, because I wasn't even breast-fed.

Mother:
Oh, don't be ridiculous, dear. It wasn't done in those days. [points to Edina] Imagine me having that clamped to my breast.

Eddie:
Mmm... I want better for you, darling. I want better for you, I don't want you ending up like me, with all my complicated, but still rather marvelous hang-ups. I don't want that, sweetie. I don't want that. At least you were breast-fed.

Saffie:
Was I? By whom? You told me your milk dried up, your tubes blocked and your nipples dropped off.

Eddie:
Well... Well, they did, they did!

Saffie:
So who was I breast-fed by? Not one of the many saggy-tittied hippies who lived with us at the time, I hope.

Eddie:
Darling, it was a commune. That was the point. Anyway, sweetie, I mean, they gave you a good start in life, didn't they? I mean, you're alright, aren't you? Sweetie, you're alright, aren't you?

Saffie:
How many? Which ones?

Eddie:
It doesn't matter, they've all died of overdoses since. I mean it doesn't matter. Anyway... Anyway, sweetie, can I just say that at least you're not fat like me.

Patsy:
[about Penny Caspar-Morse] Okay, okay. She's here. Eddy, great news.

Eddie:
She's fat?

Patsy:
No, no, no. Better than that.

Eddie:
She's dead!

Patsy:
No. She's blind.

Eddie:
Yes! Yes, she's blind! Yes!

[last lines]

Eddie:
Now you come back trying to sell your little bits of tat for my shop. My shop! Well, what a comedown! Because I'm the successful one now, aren't I? I, I'm rich and happy and I've got a wonderful family and friends.

Penny:
I want you to know that I am no longer coping with this.

Eddie:
Well, I don't have to go to a plastic surgeon to keep my body together, do I. No, no, no. Because I want to tell ya, I've got my fantastic bone structure. I am thin and gorgeous!

Penny:
Thin? Ha!

Saffie:
[to Eddy] You've been getting ready for three hours and you still look like a bloated citrus fruit.

Patsy:
Get your face and your... [gags] hair away from me.

Saffie:
My hair is not anywhere near you!

Patsy:
Your face hair.

[last lines]

Eddie:
So you've been diddled. It's happened to us all, once in a while.

Patsy:
But it's not the money, Eddie.

Eddie:
What is it?

Patsy:
It's the horrible realization that I must have actually enjoyed playing ping-pong.

[first lines]

Eddie:
Come on, wake up! Come on! Come on, Bubble, try and concentrate! I've got some important information I have to tell you. I am going to be in France for nearly a whole week and I am counting on you to cope. Now, there is only one thing that you have to concentrate on this week, and that's the refurbishment of Bettina's apartment.

Bubble:
The refurbishment of Bettina's apartment.

Eddie:
It's very important, I promised it would be finished this week. When she said "Third world chic", I was hoping she would stick to it, but it took me hours to get hold of that fly-blown mud Hessian for her kitchen walls. I mean there is a nomadic tribe in the Northern African desert that's going to be traveling rather light this winter, thanks to Bettina. Also, when the wood arrives for the kitchen surfaces, remember to stamp "Greenpeace approved" on it.

Bubble:
"Greenpeace approved".

Eddie:
Alright? Yes, and if the silk for the cushions doesn't arrive by tomorrow, then fax Calcutta and tell them to weave faster. God, what can they be doing? Squatting inside the room, making chapattis? Poor Bettina. Bonjour, bonjour. Oui, oui! Also, darling, I'll try to phone you from my mobile, but I'm not sure that it'll work from France.

Bubble:
Even if it does, I'm not sure I'd understand what you were saying.

Eddie:
Oh, darling...

Bubble:
You do speak French, don't you?

Eddie:
Of course I speak French. Someone has been stealing from me.

Mother:
It's a sort of space-age teapot, isn't it dear? A teapot to boldly go, where no teapot has been before, to seek out new life forms.

Mother:
What might one use to put the tea in the pot with, dear?

Eddie:
A teaspoon, a bloody, buggery teaspoon!

Mother:
Ooh! A bloody, buggery teaspoon. That sounds rather clever. And what did one fill the kettle from? The bloody marvelous tap, I suppose?

Mother:
This filtered water boils very fast.

Bubble:
That's because there's less of it.

Mother:
Ah.

Eddie:
You! Remember: Cancel my aromatherapy, my psychotherapy, my reflexology, my osteopath, my homeopath, my naturopath, my crystal reading, my shiatsu, my organic hairdresser... and see if I can be re-birthed next Thursday afternoon.

Bubble:
Consider it done.

Patsy:
[to the air hostess] Sullen, stingy, bloody French b*tch.

Air Hostess:
[drops a packet on peanuts on her lap] Madame.

Patsy:
Moiselle. Mademoiselle.

Patsy:
You can't go to France and not drink.

Eddie:
Huh?

Patsy:
The chateau we're staying at is in the middle of a vineyard. The area alone is fifteen percent proof.

Eddie:
Am I on the wrong side of the road, or the wrong side of the road? I can't go on until I'm sure.

Patsy:
Keep driving, Eddy. You haven't hit anything yet.

Eddie:
This is here. I should be on the right-hand side of the road.

Patsy:
Look, do you want me to drive?

Eddie:
Oh, so speaks the woman whose head has been lolling around like a bladder on a stick for the best part of the journey. Read the maps, get the maps. [Patsy hands Edina a map] This is Spain. Read the instructions.

Patsy:
"Leave airport, turn right..." Blah, blah, blah.

Eddie:
Right. Now, get in, Pats. I shouldn't have gone left, should I? I mean... We're going back to that bloody airport, Pats, or we'll never find it. Oh, God! I hate France, I hate it!

Eddie:
A cockroach! A cockroach! A dead cockroach! No don't kill it, darling! I'm a Buddhist, I could come back as one of those. Oh!

Patsy:
I think that one had a coronary, sweetie.

Eddie:
Oh, God! Insects, insects! They followed me, those bloody insects. Insects follow me everywhere, darling. From Tuscany to the Caribbean. Insects, insects, insects! You know, I usually see pictures of glamorous houses in Marrakesh, for God's sake. You don't see spiders scuttling into the corner. You never see a picture of Jane Seymour with a centipede dangling from her bloody tiara! No, they just follow me, they bloody follow me. I mean, a mosquito has never bitten you, for God's sake!

Patsy:
The last mosquito that bit me had to book into the Betty Ford Clinic.

Eddie:
Well, I'm very sorry about the bloody ozone layer, but this is a matter of human surival here.

Bubble:
Oh, this sort of thing's never happened to me before.

Saffron:
Well, you've never done anything before.

Bubble:
I know.

Saffron:
[answering the phone] Hello?... Mum?... No... How can you have malnutrition?

Patsy:
Eddy! Rosemary's Baby has arrived with food!

Saffron:
It's lovely here.

Eddie:
It's lovely, yeah.

Saffron:
How can you not be enjoying it? It's so peaceful and relaxing. Just walking, and reading, and playing games. It's fun.

Eddie:
Fun? Hmm. I can see it should be fun, I know it should be fun, sweetie. It's... It's like a secret no one's let me in on. You know, it's your sort of fun. Mmm? Yeah.

Saffron:
Yes. Well, I think I'll go and have a stroll in the village.

Eddie:
Alright. I won't come.

Eddie:
[Patsy is trying to snort a glass of wine] Darling, don't snort it. Just drink it, sweetie.

Eddie:
[drunkenly getting into the right side of a French car] Sh*t! Someone's taken the steering-wheel!

Eddie:
[trying to complete a jigsaw puzzle] It's so stupid! I mean, they, they've made the holes the wrong shape for the pieces.

Bubble:
[playing Monopoly] Oh, I'm broke.

Patsy:
Take another mortgage. Don't give in.

Bubble:
What, on a "get out of jail free" card?

Patsy:
Well, try.

Saffron:
I thought you were broke. Where did you get all that money from?

Patsy:
Don't question me.

Saffron:
Where did you get it?

Patsy:
I borrowed it from the bank.

Saffron:
Well, you can't do that. That's cheating.

Patsy:
Listen, you little stoat. I own Park Lane. I can borrow as much money as I like.

Patsy:
[to Bubble] Listen, you little gonk. If you tell anyone what he said, I'll kill you.

Eddie:
[to Bubble] I don't know why I don't sack you.

Saffron:
[Bubble starts to cry] Don't be silly, Mum. Where else are you going find someone who makes doing nothing into an art form? [to Barry] I'm sorry. I had to say that.

Bubble:
It's alright. I didn't quite understand what you meant.

Patsy:
I need to see my lawyer. I must be allowed to make that telephone call before my freedom is finally snatched away from me.

Customs Officer:
That won't be necessary Miss Stone. The white powder we found was a perfectly harmless innocent substance.

Eddie:
[gasps] Oh!

Customs Officer:
You're all free to go.

Patsy:
I beg your pardon?

Customs Officer:
You're free to go. Be a bit more careful next time.

Patsy:
Just hang on there! I demand that you re-test it! Come back here! I paid a, a huge amount of money for that substance! Don't tell me it was talcum powder!

Eddie:
Where is my son?

Marshall:
*Our* son.

Eddie:
*My* son. What's he doing?

[Marshall and Saffie at the same time]

Marshall:
Taking a blood sample from Eskimos...

Saffie:
Taking a sail boat to the Indian Ocean...

Eddie:
The blombleebleh to the bleebleebluhhh. It's lies isnt it? Thats all lies!

[Awkward silence]

Bo:
[Clapping and singing] Jesus is our savior! Jesus is our holy -

Marshall:
Not now Bo!

[Patsy describes her sister, Jackie]

Patsy:
She is there, behind the rich and powerful... beside the rich and powerful... *under* the rich and powerful.

Saffron:
[about Jackie] I can't believe what that woman said to me!

Edina:
Yeah, well, she is witty, I'll give her that.

Saffron:
What gives her the right to treat people like that, Mum?

Edina:
She's thin!

Patsy:
Goodbye aging obscurity and 'Hello.' Magazine.

Patsy:
[Patsy's affair with an MP has become front page news on all of the papers] Oh well, heigh ho, Eddy. [pours some champagne into a glass] I mean, you know, let them write what they want . . . [starts to read another feature] Continued on page five. I mean, I shall just rise above it. I shan't let this thing affect me in . . . bastard! No! No! No!

Eddie:
Who, who? Where, where? What, quick, what? Show, show, show! [Patsy hands Eddy the newspaper, Edina reads aloud] Source is . . .

Patsy:
No, no, no - further.

Eddie:
Pasty is . . . uh?

Patsy:
Yes?

Eddie:
Aged forty-seven!

Patsy:
Aagh! I'll sue!

Saffie:
[to Edina] Well, how old is she?

[Edina shrugs.]

Patsy:
I'm thirty-nine.

Saffie:
And I'm an ovum.

Patsy:
[tears up newspaper] Oh . . . it's just not fair.

Gran:
[Gran enters reading the newspaper headlines] Another pig-ugly MP making a fool of himself with some scrawny old hooker, I see.

Patsy:
Old? Old! Old, old, old!

Gran:
Nothing like a good old sex scandal. Bit more exciting than the ones in my day.

Eddie:
God, what was it in your day? "Woman Shows Ankle To Chimney-Sweep Shock"?

[first lines]

Saffie:
Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk!

Eddie:
Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk! You're all tutty, darling! When Patsy comes in, I want you to treat her with a little bit of respect, alright?

Patsy:
[entering] Click, click, flash, flash. Click, flash, flash, flash, click, click, click. Flash, flash, flash. Guys, guys, just give me a break, darlings! Just give me a break. I have a life to lead! Click, click. "This way, Patsy!". Fellows, fellows, fellows. Sweetie's darlings, can you just leave me alone? Click, click, click, click. Flash, flash, flash, flash. Click, click, click. Patsy, Patsy!

Eddie:
You alright, darling? You're not letting this get to you, are you?

Patsy:
No, of course not.

Eddie:
A little bit of Bolly?

Patsy:
Yes, just a smidge. [looking at newspapers] Oh, are these todays?

Eddie:
Yes, sweetie.

Patsy:
Anything in them?

Eddie:
Not much, darling, no.

Saffie:
[reading from the paper] "M.P. in drug-crazed sex romp with shock with fash-mag slag".

Patsy:
Damn!

Eddie:
I know. Well, there is that, thank you very much, sweetie. Well, in fact you're front page on most of them, darling. But it has only been a day, you know.

Patsy:
I mean, who could still possibly be interested in reading all this?

Saffie:
His wife?

Patsy:
Listen, Saffy. I am the victim in this case. I mean, he's just using me for publicity. He's just riding on my back to get his pathetic little face in the papers.

Eddie:
Exactly, sweetie! Patsy's had the hassle and trauma. She's been forced to leave her flat, darling.

Saffie:
Forced? Even the cockroaches left that whole of their own accord.

Eddie:
They are trying to make out, darling, that Patsy is some kind of sex-crazed, morally corrupted, drunken, high-classed, prostitute, darling!

Saffie:
Pretty accurate, so far!

Eddie:
[reading newspaper headlines about Patsy] Look at this! "Four Letter Patsy In M.P. Sex Row!".

Patsy:
"Orgy Of Alcohol And Sex Near M.P.'s House!".

Eddie:
Ridiculous! Those bastard scum filth parasites of the press, darling.

Saffie:
Well, make up your mind. One minute they're scum, and the next you're giving them lunch and pouring booze down their throats in the great name of P.R.!

Eddie:
Booze? Booze, sweetie? Booze, darling? Is that what they call it down the Uni bar? Booze, sweetie? Is it? Will you be popping in there, darling, after a hard day's lecture for some half a pint of shandy-booze? Some pork scracklings? Oh, God. Where was I? [picks up another paper] "Illicit Passion For M.P.'s Posh Clothes Mag Gal Pal!". Oh, God. "Shocked Wife Of M.P. Keeps Silent!".

Eddie, Patsy:
B*tch!

Patsy:
B*tch!

Patsy:
[picks up another paper] "Queen Furious". That's not you.

Patsy:
You know, in my day...

Saffie:
Your day? Which century was that?

Patsy:
In my day, there was a sense of style about the whole thing, you know. Christine Keeler, Mandy Rice-Davies... Gorgeous little women who kept their mouths shut and just looked gorgeous, and gave the whole thing an air of dignity. You know, that's the way I should play it, Eddie. Not like these penny tarts of recent times. Kiss and tell, blurt it all out, for the promise of a quick buck and instant fame. Not me, sweetie. My lips are sealed.

Saffie:
You'll do "Hello!" magazine, though?

Patsy:
Ooh, yeah!

Eddie:
Might as well do it in the comfort of your own home.

Patsy:
[to Antonia] Would you like to follow me into my gracious drawing room?

Eddie:
Sweetie, darling, could you just stop that minute and come and help me here? Come, unwrap all these things. They're all objets from my shop, darling, so keep the price tags showing. The woman from "Hello!" magazine is here, and I haven't finished decorating the room.

Saffie:
Why bother?

Eddie:
Because, sweetie, what you can't tell about a person by what they have chosen you to see on their coffee table isn't worth knicker elastic. [holding up an object] What do you think darling? Look, look, look. What do you think? It's an Eskimo papoose. Huh? Don't look like that, sweetie. Any chance of a quick buck in the Artic, they tip the babies out and ship them down, I tell you.

Antonia:
[interviewing Patsy for "Hello!" magazine] Is it a miracle that you are walking again?

Patsy:
It is a miracle that I can walk at all... I bless the wonder of life... and the newness of living.

Sarah:
Jed might be around tomorrow night, as he and I sort of... hang out a bit, you know. Catching up on lecture notes and that sort of thing.

Saffie:
Ooh...!

Sarah:
No, nothing like that. I know what you're thinking.

Eddie:
You may be sorely disappointed there.

Sarah:
Although, the other night... He did get locked up in our part of the hall.

Eddie:
Poor bastard!

Sarah:
And he did have to sleep on the floor in my room, but...

Eddie:
Only because he couldn't chew through the restraints with his bare teeth, I should think.

Sarah:
You see, Jed's really, really lovely...

Eddie:
[to Saffron] Could you just shut Titicaca up here for a second?

Antonia:
[interviewing Patsy for "Hello!" magazine] And when will the baby be born? Do you hope to have a big family? Of course! How stupid of me. Those questions were transparently for a much younger woman. [pause] And you're not Annabelle Croft?

Patsy:
No, I'm Patsy Stone.

Antonia:
Stone? [thinks about who Patsy is] Oh! Did your life change much after "Basic Instinct"?

Eddie:
[on the phone] Yes? Bonjour. Oui. Just put me... [to Saffron] Four bloody languages and they can't specialize in one. [back to the operator] Just put me through to Zermatt! Zermatt!

Saffie:
Who are you calling?

Eddie:
My Doctor Philip, darling. He's skiing in Switzerland. [into the phone] Hello? Hello, Philip? Yes, it's Edina... You know that foot of mine, darling? Yeah, I just bashed it on the door-frame. It's very painful. Huh? Huh?... Oh, God! [to Saffron] He just hit the grand slalom. I can't hear him from wind noise.

Patsy:
Eddie?

Eddie:
Oh, Pats, darling, how did it go?

Patsy:
[pointing to sticky face lifts on her face] Do these work?

Eddie:
For how old, sweetie?

Patsy:
Thirty five.

Eddie:
You might need a few more for thirty five, I think, darling.

Patsy:
How much more?

Saffie:
A bungee jump with the elastic tied to the back of your head should get that back into shape.

Eddie:
[on the phone] Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, oh! Operation? Darling. Hospital, yes. Alright, alright, thank you. [hangs up] Did you catch that, darling? I've got to go to hospital.

Patsy:
Hospital, Eddie? I'll come with you.

Eddie:
Alright, I'm going to have to pack and order the ambulance and everything.

Saffie:
Why don't you take your car?

Eddie:
Because, sweetie, I do not pay huge insurance premiums, so I can just drive myself to hospital, alright? And not stay overnight, okay? Come on, Pats. Which one shall we go to? Cromwell? Heritage?

Patsy:
Champneys.

Eddie:
They've got a pool, don't they?

Nurse:
[looking at what Edina is wearing] Mary! Mary, come in here a minute and look at this?

Nurse Mary:
Mother of God! What is it?

Nurse:
You know, my daughter could get away with wearing something like this?

Eddie:
Maybe she'd get away with it, but I doubt very much if she'd be able to afford it!

Nurse:
Why, she's only three years old.

Eddie:
Well, just furnish us with the appropriate drugs and then leave the room please.

Eddie:
[to the Nurses] I want a drip and a little heart-bleep machine, here. Alright? I've seen "Casualty", I know what goes on.

Nurse:
[looking at Patsy] Hello, dear, I thought I recognized you.

Nurse Mary:
It's that old slag in the papers last week.

Antonia:
Where am I here?

Patsy:
In my gracious drawing room.

Antonia:
No, I mean where is this? Shepherd's Bush?

Eddie:
Holland Park! Holland Park! It's not on the outskirts, either. It's not the edge of Holland Park. This is the rich heartland of Holland Park here. All right, is the photographer here yet?

Antonia:
No, we never do photos on the same day. Next week.

Eddie:
It's a seventy-foot drawing room with west-facing garden. One point five million.

Catriona:
And she believes chairs are as important to civilisation as a masterpiece of something. I wrote it down somewhere. So we could print that up and do some lovely photos.

Eddie:
I demand to see a doctor!

Nurse:
Mr. Simpson will be round in a minute.

Eddie:
Mr. Simpson? Mr. Simpson? I want a proper doctor in a white coat who's going to take me seriously. And give me some more painkillers now, all right.

Mr. Simpson:
Right, Mrs. um, um...

Nurse:
Monsoon.

Mr. Simpson:
I'll be operating on your um, um, um...

Nurse:
Foot.

Mr. Simpson:
...tomorrow morning.

Eddie:
Hold my hand, darling. He could be the caretaker for all I know!

Mr. Simpson:
We could do this under local. It's not a very serious operation. It's very quick.

Eddie:
Local? Local anaesthetic? Are you mad? God, what is this? Eastern Europe?

Mr. Simpson:
You wouldn't feel any pain.

Eddie:
I won't need to feel it, but I'd be able to see it! I'm not totally lacking in imagination you know. I want total sensory deprivation and back-up drugs, all right!

Saffie:
Believe me, she's much happier unconscious!

Nurse:
[pointing to Patsy] Face-lift

Mr. Simpson:
Oh, it'll be a doggle. Just grab her by the scalp, shaker her up and down a bit and chop off the slack. Tomorrow.

Eddie:
[to the Nurse] Oi, you! B*tch-nurse. You just keep me on the threshold of pain. I want some more painkillers. Look. I have two tiny little paraplegics or something in this cup. Over an hour ago! And don't look at me like I'm mad, I know you've got Valium out there.

Patsy:
Magda!

Magda:
Hello, Pats! How are ya? Unlucky business with the M.P. Still the "Hello!" thing should sort that out. I better make this quick I've got a lingerie opening and a feminine wash launch to get to by six, and all this with my working champagne lunch with Anouska bloody Hempel floating about here. This month I want articles about how lovely spending money is. Expensive things, the better cosmetics are great. I want money, money, money. Spend, spend, spend. I don't want to see any more photos of gormless skeletons with no brains, no make-up and no bloody tits.

Patsy:
Promoting bored teenagers won't sell a Chanel suit.

Magda:
Naw, they're too thin!

Patsy:
Too young!

Magda:
If the models get any younger, Pats, they'll be chucking foetuses down the catwalk!

Fleur:
Couldn't we make a feature: Our Editor.

Catriona:
Yes, and then we could use all these lovely photos.

Dream Mother:
[to Edina] I was just passing dear. Goodness, you're looking young. You hardly seem to have changed since you were a little girl.

Eddie:
Saffy. Sweetie, you wore the La Croix.

Dream Saffron:
I will always wear LaCroix from now on when I'm in town, Ma.

Eddie:
NHS! NHS! NHS!

[last lines]

Eddie:
Never mind, darling.

Patsy:
Hey-ho!

Eddie:
You're not crying, are you, darling?

Patsy:
No, sweetie. There's just this little wound under my eye that won't heal. The wound on this side won't heal either. Eddy!

Eddie:
Bubble? Listen! What is your job?

Bubble:
What's me what?

Eddie:
What is it you do, darling?

Bubble:
I don't really know. Nothing. Get paid?

[first lines]

Saffron:
[phone rings] Hello?

Eddie:
Saffy, it's me. Listen... Darling, I'm in the isolation tank in my bathroom. Don't leave the house without telling me. Alright? I'm going to see if I can last another fifteen minutes.

Saffron:
A call came through for Patsy, but I couldn't find her.

Eddie:
Alright. Okay. [to Patsy] There's a call come through for you Pats.

Patsy:
I'd better go, Eddy.

Eddie:
Is champers all right with you, Pats?

Patsy:
Lovely, sweetie.

Eddie:
Now, Pats, shall we finish off the Beluga or should we have some smoked salmon nibbly things?

Patsy:
Oh, whatever sweetie.

Eddie:
All right, we'll finish off the Beluga.

Patsy:
Well, shall we have a b*tch through "Hello!" magazine and the "Enquirer"?

Eddie:
Oh... no...

Patsy:
Come, on, sweetie. Catherine Oxenberg, Liz Taylor, Khashoggi, Shahpari Khashoggi, darling. All that money and she's still got a moustache. Oh, sweetie, one more facelift on this one and she'll have a beard. And darling, why do we think Pricilla Presley wears gloves?

Eddie:
Oh, I don't know.

Patsy:
Liver spots, sweetie. Don't you remember?

Eddie:
Oh, where is Bubble? What's happening here? What is it? What's happening?

Bubble:
I'll just go through a few of the things in this week's diary.

Eddie:
Alright.

Bubble:
Charity: Emporio Armani, drinks, lunch, launch, Gucci opening. Invites for fashion shows: Westwood, Hamnett, Jackson, Richmond. I said yes to all. But you can do Westwood. Party, party, party, party, party... Koo Stark is having a retrospective of work she has yet to do. That'll be drinks and a press call. Book launches: One. Bill Wyman's "Coping With Cystitis". Press call and ribs at Sticky Fingers. Party, party, party, movie meetings. Two. Paula Yates, her book, "If I Can't Have A Career, Why Should They?". There will be a party, and she will be expressing milk throughout.

Eddie:
Oh, I'm not going to that.

Bubble:
Linda McCartney, Joan Collins, Emma Freud, Marie Helvin, Ivana Trump. Ivana Trump, the launch of her new perfume "The Smell That Lingers Longer Than He Does". Tokyo, Hong Kong, New York, Paris...

Patsy:
[about Saffy] Don't let her talk to you like that, Eddy. Tell her she's adopted.

Eddie:
You can't even tell Patsy about arranging balls, darling. She was always very good at genetics.

Saffron:
I'm not surprised. She's been a walking sperm bank most of her life.

Saffron:
Look, mum, it's not my fault I dont't want to loll around naked, painted day glow, with a flower stuck in every orifice... humping the air to Jefferson Airplane.

Eddie:
It was The Grateful Dead, darling.

Eddie:
Right. sweetie, I'm going to go to my isolation tank now. I may be some time. I could sink!

Saffron:
Not with your ballast.

Eddie:
Sweetie, if you don't let me come. I'll adopt a Romanian baby. I would.

Patsy:
[seeing Saffron] Oh, my God, there's something horrible on the stairs.

Saffron:
It's me.

Patsy:
I'm not blind.

Saffron:
What are those pills?

Patsy:
Don't question me.

Saffron:
Mum?

Eddie:
Darling, they're just hormones, so I can breast feed the Romanians when they come.

[last lines]

Patsy:
You want to hear a new joke, darling?

Eddie:
Oh, yeah.

Patsy:
It's not in very good taste.

Eddie:
No.

Patsy:
The thing is this... You know Elizabeth Taylor?

Eddie:
Mmm...

Patsy:
Well, I hear that she is the new ride at Disney World.

Patsy:
[Waiting for private concert to begin] So Mark, do you like Jeanne Duran?

Mark Kermode:
Yeah I think I first fell in love with her bouche.

Patsy:
[Startled and nonplussed, misunderstanding the French] You've seen her bush?

Mark Kermode:
Of course.

Patsy:
I thought you were a happily married man

Patsy:
[nervous on TV] You can never have enough hats, gloves and shoes.

Patsy:
Yeah. Cheers. Thanks a lot.

[first lines]

Edina:
Oh, God! Oh, sweetie! [burglar alarm starts wailing] Oh, God! Saff! Darling! [Saffron turns off the alarm]

Saffron:
[explaining how to turn it off] Zero, zero, zero, enter.

Edina:
Stupid little thing...

Saffron:
I made it the simplest number possible, so that even a fool could remember it, but I overestimated you again.

Edina:
Well, what's the point of it, if it's just going to make a bloody racket all the time?

Saffron:
It's supposed to.

Edina:
I wouldn't care if someone came and took all the furniture, darling. I can get it back on the insurance. I can't get a perforated eardrum back from insurance, can I, sweetie?

Saffron:
Look, I've got to go and call the central station and let them know my mother has the memory span of a fruit fly. And then I need to speak to you.

Edina:
Oh, darling! Yes, speak to me, sweetie. I'm shaking in my boots, darling.

Saffron:
What are you smirking at? Do you think this is funny?

Edina:
Oh... Funny what, darling? Funny ha-ha-ha?

Saffron:
You might have rung and let me know what you were doing.

Edina:
I was too busy doing it, darling. What's the matter? Are you jealous?

Saffron:
No, worried.

Edina:
Oh, worried about me having some fun? Well, I was darling. Bloody great, bloody fun, alright?

Patsy:
Ask her who with?

Saffron:
Who with?

Edina:
Jean-Pierre.

Patsy:
That bastard! You didn't tell me he was around.

Edina:
Oh. I sort of ran into him by accident, darling. He's over here directing a new video for a hip-rave-rap... band, darling.

Patsy:
I thought we were going out. [about Saffron] Thanks to you, I had to spend the whole evening alone in this house with Helena Bonham Carter, here! I'm going back to bed. There's no point in me being up at this hour. [gets a bottle of scotch] Helps me to sleep.

Edina:
Yeah.

Saffron:
Back in your coffin.

Edina:
Darling! Patsy's an insomniac, sweetie.

Saffron:
More like the living dead.

Edina:
Oooh! Oooh!

Saffron:
[about Patsy] How long is she here for?

Edina:
I don't know. How long are you here for?

Saffron:
How long?

Edina:
Well, until her flat has been fumigated, darling. She can't live in it breathing fumes all day, can she?

Saffron:
Why not? I thought sniffing chemicals was what she did best. I'm surprised she's not up there already with a straw stuck up her nose. She should try it, you know. It might actually be the one substance that makes her socially acceptable.

Edina:
Darling, it would kill her!

Saffron:
Exactly!

Edina:
A few hormones, talking there, haven't we, sweetie? Huh?

Saffron:
So, Jean-Pierre...

Edina:
Yeah, yeah!

Saffron:
Is he over long?

Edina:
Well, it sort of depends on me, you know, darling. He sort of made it very clear last night that he was very well re-smitten. If you know what I mean?

Saffron:
Did you...?

Edina:
Of course, darling. I know it's been a long time for me, but it must be like riding a bicycle, really. It's something you never forget.

Saffron:
Well, I hope...

Edina:
Very careful, darling, yes! The whole packet!

Saffron:
Mum!

Edina:
Well... Once you've brushed off the cobwebs, there's no stopping me.

Saffron:
Oh, please. I don't want to know.

Edina:
Well, darling. You asked the question. No point getting all umphy about it now, is there? Anything else you'd like to know, sweetie?

Saffron:
No, thank you.

Edina:
I know it's a sensitive issue with someone your age, darling. And a bit embarassed to talk about it, aren't you, sweetie? Mm? My analyst says that I should let you sort it out in your own time, and everything. But Jesus Christ, darling! Not one bloody boyfriend in the whole time that I've known you! I mean, you're not that bloody ugly! What's the matter with you? Huh? Have you read that "Karma Sutra" I gave you? No! That Dutch cap has only ever seen the light of day. I mean, God! Here I am, your mother, poised for your first sexual experience and night after night, dry bloody sheets! I'm sorry, darling, but I don't want a little moustached virgin for a daughter, so do something about it! Unless of course...

Saffron:
Mum, don't!

Edina:
Well, darling...

Saffron:
Mum, please!

Edina:
Unless of course... Unless of course you're gay, darling.

Saffron:
Mum!

Edina:
Sweetie! Are you darling? You can tell me, sweetie. Are you darling?

Saffron:
Yes, I'm gay.

Edina:
Oh, hoorah! [pause] Well done, darling, well done!

Saffron:
I'm glad it makes you happy, but actually, I'm not.

Edina:
What?

Saffron:
I'm not gay! [Edina looks disappointed] Sorry.

Edina:
Oh! Break it to me like that, why don't you? Yes... I suppose it's not your fault, really, is it? Just your old mother clutching at straws. Trying to find one exotic, interesting feature about you, but there we are.

Saffron:
[to Patsy who is coughing up her lungs] All night I've had to hear that! Any more hacking, and you'll bring up oil.

Patsy:
Are you going to the office?

Edina:
Yeah, I have to sort out a few things about the shop, darling. It's going very well, by the way. I've got gorgeous things coming in from Kashmir, Afghanistan, Albania... I've got blankets and rugs coming in from Ethiopia. Dirt cheap, darling, honestly. And some of those lip plates from dead Amazonian Indians. I thought we could sell them as ashtrays. [Saffron looks appalled] Don't look at me like that, darling. We do take the lip off, you know! Honestly, sweetie... I've got some lovely cooking pots coming in from Somalia. I mean, they don't need them. They've got no food to put in them at all. And also, sweetie, best news of all time, darling.

Patsy:
Yes?

Edina:
You know those villages that were deserted by the Kurds?

Patsy:
Yes.

Edina:
I bought the entire contents.

Patsy:
Oh, well done, Eddy!

Edina:
I know, I know, the trucks are moving in.

Saffron:
Coups, revolutions and disasters, they're all bargain basements to you!

Edina:
Oh, darling! They're happy camping.

Edina:
What are you doing today, Pats?

Saffron:
I hope she's not lolling around the house again.

Edina:
Will you shut up? Will you just shut up? I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to my friend. Is that alright? God, it's like living with a chronically-depressed budgerigar, living with you. Shut up! Pats?

Patsy:
I'm going in to my office.

Edina:
Your...

Patsy:
...Office.

Edina:
Office? The magazine, darling? Is that still there?

Patsy:
Of course it is. There's a little meeting, you know. So I've got to go, you know. About ten minutes.

Saffron:
What do you do?

Edina:
Darling! Patsy is one of the top fashion editors in a top magazine.

Patsy:
Director.

Edina, Patsy:
Executive Fashion Director.

Saffron:
But she's never at work.

Patsy:
I am always at work.

Edina:
Yes, thanks to our friend, Mr. Mobile Telephone. Anyway, Patsy's got that job for life.

Saffron:
[about Patsy's job] You don't mean to say she's actually good at something?

Edina:
No, darling. She slept with the publisher.

Patsy:
...And I'm bloody good at it!

Edina:
Bloody good at it!

Saffron:
So, what does a fashion director do?

Edina:
Oh, darling! She get's a fifty per cent discount at Harvey Nicks.

Patsy:
It's not only that. There is work involved. You know, skill.

Edina:
Yeah, of course there is.

Patsy:
I... I decide what goes in the magazine.

Edina:
Yeah.

Patsy:
You know, one snap of my fingers and I can raise hemlines so high, that the world is your gynaecologist.

Edina:
Exactly. You get lots of free champagne, don't you?

Patsy:
Yeah. I direct...

Edina:
The fashion. Yeah. You get lots of little free goodies, little things, you get.

Saffron:
You two have never had to pay for anything! Have you?

Edina:
I paid for you, darling.

Patsy:
A hundred times over!

Catriona:
[describes what can be done with the magazine] Well, we could tie that in with some... glasses. A friend of mine has got a shop with some lovely... glasses.

Fleur:
Henrietta?

Catriona:
Yes. Maybe we could do some lovely... photos.

Magda:
What about people? You know... Who's in, who's out, who's sexy, who's not sexy, who's clever, who's not clever.

Catriona:
Right. Who's in, who's out.

Magda:
Here's my list. Cross her off, she screwed me. Oh, and put him in, he screwed me. Do something on River Phoenix, I really fancy him.

Catriona:
Right.

Magda:
River Phoenix, Mickey Rourke, Liam Neeson. Don't do anything on anyone called Freud. I don't like them. Bunch of no-talents with an ancestor.

Catriona:
But they were in last month.

Magda:
So? I'm not running a bloody charity. Just because some old granddaddy invented penis-envy doesn't mean I have to lick their boots!

Saffron:
[to Patsy] Would you mind dragging your old carcass out of here, now?

Patsy:
[to Saffy] You may dress like a Christian, but the similarity ends there. I think you do it on purpose. How long does it take you to get the crease so crisp down the front of your jeans, you torturer?

Patsy:
Yes, well... I never knew my father. My mother only knew him fairly briefly.

Patsy:
[about her mother] She didn't want a child. She would've got rid of me, but she mistook being pregnant for the menopause. When she found out it was too late.

[last lines]

Edina:
What are you doing tonight, Pats?

Patsy:
Seeing the publisher again. You know, just to be sure.

Edina:
Darling, even Amanda de Cadenet would remember the word "accessories".

Kathy:
Now... umm, later on, we'll be taking an in-depth look at acute schizophrenia from nine twenty to nine twenty three. And afterwards, what else but euthanasia? We're going to be talking to a couple of people who pulled the plugs on their elderly mothers, so you better watch out, dear!

Patsy:
[talking to Eddy] Look, I just don't want you to make a horrible mistake again.

Edina:
What do you mean?

Patsy:
Darling, I'm your best friend. And let's be honest: Your taste in men is famously bad. You know, sweetie, I've had to save you from two disastrous marriages, and some ghastly pathetic affairs you might nearly have had.

Jobo:
[to the MO group members] Come on sisters. We're getting nowhere. [stands] My name is Jobo, and I'm happy to be having the menopause. [group members clap for her] I have hot flashes and cramps, and sometimes when I sneeze, I pee.

Beth De Woodi:
[stands up] Beth De Woodi. The sands of time are trickling through my hour glass!

Patsy Stone:
[raising her hand] Patsy Stone. I hope you're wearing thick underpants!

[Eddie is trying to guess the "thing" Bubble broke]

Eddie:
The mouse.

Bubble:
Yeah! The mouse! That's got the tele with VD!

Eddie:
All right... [sighs] The VD... The Word Processor.

Eddie:
You broke the computer?

Bubble:
Yeah!

Eddie:
When?

Bubble:
Who can say?...

Eddie:
We've got everything.

[Leaves the house. Two seconds later storms back in]

Eddie:
Tickets, money, passports! Tickets, money, passports!

[Listening to headphones and singing]

Bubble:
No no... No no no no. [Shaking crazily] No no no no! No no! There's no limit! No!...

Eddie:
Bubble! Bubble! Bubble! Bubble! Bubble! Now listen, darling please.

[first lines]

Eddie:
Sweetie! Oh, darling! Oh, God, sweetie! What a day! What a day I've had, sweetie, darling, darling, darling! I have been at work since I left here this morning!

Saffron:
Do you want some lunch?

Eddie:
No, I had lunch in the studio. Studio, sweetie, studio. Studio, darling. Action, lights, camera.

Saffron:
What have you been doing?

Eddie:
Pop -Specs ad.

Saffron:
What?

Eddie:
You know I represent Pop-Specs darling? We're doing a new ad. We're up marketing the image.

Saffron:
What are Pop-Specs?

Eddie:
What are Pop-Specs! Are you dead? Are you dead? These are them! These are them! Look, darling. These are Pop-Specs! They are great. Look. Do you see that one? Here's another one, darling. Schizophrenia! They're fantastic!

Saffron:
How can you up market those?

Eddie:
Well Patsy's agreed to put them in a photo shoot in her magazine. And there s a new ad darling. New ad, sweetie, which is mainly my idea. My original idea. It's very clever. God! It better bloody work otherwise my company is gonna be left with one minor department store, two student designers, Smudgibars and Lulu paying for your upkeep, darling. And Lulu is like that, sweetie. You could show a little enthusiasm, you know.

Saffron:
Mum, why should I be happy that you're going to spend thousands of pounds on...

Eddie:
Hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Saffron:
...persuading people to buy some cheap bit of plastic junk that they don't even want?

Eddie:
Don't know they want yet... sweetie.

Saffron:
...That will then be thrown away after a couple of months once the novelty wears off and sit around polluting the planet.

Eddie:
That's it, is it? That's it, is it? Can I show you, can I show you something, sweetie? Can I show you something on this? Look at that. [Eddy points to "Pop-specs" bag] What do you think that is, there? What is that?

Saffron:
It's a sticker with a green tree on it.

Eddie:
Yes.

Saffron:
What does that mean?

Eddie:
Kind to trees, sweetie.

Saffron:
How are they kind to trees?

Eddie:
Well, they ain't made of wood. How kind do you want them to be?

Eddie:
Study? You don't go to Marrakech to study, darling.

Patsy:
No you don't!

Eddie:
There are lots of reasons to go to Marrakech and studying is not one of them, sweetie. You go to Marrakech for I don't know, drugs, dirt-cheap plates and rugs.

Patsy:
Yeah, easy-going sex with gorgeous, under-age youths...

Eddie:
Yeaaah. Sex changes, doesn't it, Pats? Well, not now, anyway. Not now, anymore.

Saffron:
Well, mum...

Patsy:
No, Eddie!

Eddie:
What?

Patsy:
No, to whatever she's going to say!

Saffron:
I'm talking to my mother!

Patsy:
Just say no, Eddie!

Eddie:
What?

Patsy:
Just tell her no.

Eddie:
I don't understand!

Saffron:
Let me go to Morocco.

Patsy:
No!

Eddie:
Well why not let her go to Morocco? We're going to Marrakech.

Saffron:
It's in Morocco.

Patsy:
This little scud from hell is trying to slime her way onto a trip, and we don't want it.

Saffron:
But, Mum!

Patsy:
Don't you "But, Mum" her!

Eddie:
Just do whatever you want sweetie.

Patsy:
Eddie!

Eddie:
Well... But as your mother, I cannot be held responsible for your well-being. Alright? If you come with us, you're on your own.

Eddie:
[to Bubble] Now listen, you bloody brainless bimbo, I need this client! I don't need some bollocky vegetable Yankee-bloody-doodle to mess it up for me, alright!

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Help mummy, darling.

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Well, if you could try and look a little less like a Christian missionary, I'm sure we'll all be a lot safer. They're all Muslim around here, you know darling.

Uncle Humphrey:
[to Saffy] I hope you didn't think I was some sort of dirty old man.

Uncle Humphrey:
Now, would you like to try a local speciality?

Saffron:
Oh yes, I'd love to.

Uncle Humphrey:
Well, you take a pot of scented honey mixed with goat's cheese yoghurt, sprinkled with almonds from the Atlas Mountains. You spread it all over your naked nubile young body, and allow a man old enough to be your father to lick it off. Just like her mother. Tease, tease, tease.

Patsy:
Let's do that Sonny and Cher number. [singing] They say I... [spoken] Hang on, I'll just get this chord right. [singing] They say I...

Saffron:
Mum, that was Patsy?

Eddie:
Don't worry about it darling. It was only for a year and then it fell off.

Saffron:
Mum! That man pinched me!

Patsy:
Darling, don't worry. He's obviously very old and completely blind.

Eddie:
Have you eaten something?

Patsy:
No, not since nineteen seventy three.

Patsy:
[about Saffy] Pretty big tits.

Eddie:
The stench, the heat. That's the last time I ever set foot in a toilet bowl in Northern Africa. I mean, how dare they spit at me! A nation that has a pillowcase with a slit in it as a national costume.

Ali:
And they have to arrange catering for a movie they've been shooting here too.

Eddie:
Oh, what movie?

Ali:
'Life of Jesus Christ II'.

Eddie:
Who is Jesus these days?

Ali:
Uh... Charles Dance.

Eddie:
There's no bell! Hello? Hello? Hello? Have you got a toilet for the Madam.

Patsy:
Madamoiselle. Moiselle.

Eddie:
Can't you just not go in a hole somewhere?

Patsy:
Go on Eddy, over there. Come on!

Patsy:
[to Edina] Don't question me!

Eddie:
The only thing I was in danger of sleeping with was a donkey, and even he did a runner.

[last lines]

Saffron:
Come on. Wake up!

Eddie:
Oh, God! Did I fall asleep here? Oh, damn. Wake up, Pats! Wake up, darling. Let's catch up on a bit of luxury, sweetie. Oh! I'm going to have some breakfast and sit by the pool or something.

Saffron:
We've got to go, it's Friday.

Patsy:
Friday?

Saffron:
You've been unconscious for three days.

Eddie, Patsy:
No!

Eddie:
What's that smell? What's that smell? Is that you, sweetie? That sort of honey, yoghurty smell? Is that you?

Patsy:
Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!

Eddie:
A bit of bad news, darling?

Patsy:
Yeah, it appears the equipment has turned up.

Saffron:
She burned me with her cigarette!

Patsy:
Accident.

Patsy:
[about Bettina] Neat? She was so anally-retentive, she couldn't sit down for fear of sucking up the furniture!

Patsy:
So no lunch then, Ed?

Eddie:
Not unless Bettina arrives early. Then I shall have lunch with her.

Patsy:
[in funny voice] Can I borrow the car?

Eddie:
No, I'm picking up Bettina from the airport.

[Patsy puts her head down, upset]

Eddie:
[under breath, annoyed] Oh god... Oh god... Well , what's the matter?

Patsy:
I'm not happy.

Eddie:
Well take the car. Just go. Go.

Patsy:
I don't want the car.

Eddie:
Well just go and be unhappy somewhere else. Go on... Go on!

[nudges Patsy]

Patsy:
Don't touch me!

Eddie:
Well just bug off! Bug off! Bug off!

[Patsy knocks an ash tray off the kitchen table and knocks candlesticks and ornaments off a shelf as she goes up the stairs]

Patsy:
Oh hi Brit, it's Patsy.

Britt Ekland:
Patsy?

Patsy:
Stone.

Britt Ekland:
Stone?

Patsy:
Patsy, Patsy Stone, Stone Patsy, Patsy Stone.

Britt Ekland:
Oh Patsy.

Patsy:
Oh Brits.

Britt Ekland:
Pats

Patsy:
Brits

Britt Ekland:
Pat

Patsy:
Bri

Britt Ekland:
Pa

Patsy:
Br

Britt Ekland:
Puh

Patsy:
Buh

[first lines]

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Why didn't you wake me, sweetie? Well, I'm not going into the office today because Bettina and Max are coming, and I've got to clear the whole house up for them darling. Anyway, did I tell you Bubble's not there anymore, she's gone. I mean, someone offered her a pathetic junior post at 'Marie Claire', so I accepted for her. Let them pay her, darling, while we've got no work on. So, darling, sweet... Sweetie? Honey?

Saffron:
You were checking the fly, weren't you?

Eddie:
I have to, darling!

Saffron:
I didn't think you still did that. It's been ten years since you saw that film, and Jeff Goldblum is now full-sized, wingless and living happily ever after in L.A.

Eddie:
I know that, darling, but you'll be laughing the other side of your face the day you squash something with a little tiny human head against that window, darling. And it screams out "No, no! I'm a professor of physics! Take me back to my laboratory!" You'll wish you were a Buddhist then, darling.

Eddie:
You don't seem to realise Bettina and Max are coming.

Saffron:
So?

Eddie:
Bettina, the Queen of minimalism! Look how I'm dressed, darling. Minimalist.

Eddie:
Is this yours?

Saffron:
Yes.

Eddie:
Could it not be left around? Doesn't it have a home to go to?

Bettina:
[monotone on minimalism] We like it. We think it's the new millennium.

Patsy:
I should have sued. I was cut to ribbons, scarred for life.

Saffron:
Extraordinary how it managed to hit you in exactly the same place behind each ear.

Eddie:
Sweetie!

Patsy:
Go on, Eddie, go on

Eddie:
What?

Patsy:
Well go on, go goon. You're going to tell this little trail of cat sick that I was badly injured and not to question me.

Eddie:
No, I wasn't. I was gonna say, "Sweetie, darling, if you want to be some help to Mama, go upstairs and clear surfaces. Go on, darling." Mwah, mwah, mwah. [points to June] Take her with you, take her with you. Clear her, clear her. Neat and neat and neat.

Patsy:
Where's Mags' diary? I want to know what she's doing for lunch?

Bubble:
She's got a meeting.

Patsy:
Why haven't you written it in?

Bubble:
I'm not completely useless, you know. It's all in here. [points to her head] It's with someone called... it's gone.

Eddie:
Bettina and Max! Clear, clear, clear, clear!

Saffron:
I'll just say hello and then I'll go.

Eddie:
No, you are not going to say hello. You must get in here. Flat against the wall, hold your bag close, and when they come, you go. Hi, hi.

Max:
Hi, hi.

Bettina:
Hi, hi, hi. Max, can you bring me the other cloth?

Max:
Where is it?

Bettina:
Blue bag, not the terry one. You know, the one near the bottle warmer by the playpen.

Max:
The bag that fits the buggy or the backpack?

Bettina:
No, the one that's by the mat near the music centre. That one, sam material as the sling.

Max:
You used it on the plane.

Bettina:
No, I didn't. Oh, Christ Max, we only had those four bags and the Moses basket on the plane.

Bubble:
What you gonna do?

Patsy:
Don't question me.

Eddie:
[to Saffron] Lacroix, baby spew. Lacroix, baby spew, darling.

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
[listening to Edina cheat with Max on the baby monitor]... Is that Radio 4 dear?

Eddie:
Where have all my surfaces gone, darling? It's like living in a small regional branch of Mother-Bloody-Care darling, isn't it? They've got to go, darling, so I can return to some degree of normality.

Saffron:
Whatever that is.

Eddie:
Yes, whatever that is, darling. It's not this no-fun bloody baby world, is it?

[last lines]

Eddie:
I had to, darling. They had to go.

Patsy:
Hi sweetie.

Eddie:
Hello darling.

Eddie:
No, no, no, no. You're gonna have to go. You're gonna have to go. Come on. You have to go. Come on...

Mrs. June 'Gran' 'Mother' Monsoon:
But dear, I've just...

Eddie:
Just close your sad rag and clear! Come on.

Saffron:
[to Bettina] You're just tense. You need to unwind and relax.

Eddy:
Blind is the new black!

Patsy:
[to Eddy] Darling, darling, do think it's time for a little collagen? Plumping?

Saffron:
It'll take more than collagen to fill your face.

Patsy:
It's just a little plumping.

Saffron:
How many whales will have to die to fill those crevices?

Patsy:
It's just a little filling!

Saffron:
If you pull out the whaling fleet they may not be able to cope with the demands.

Edina:
[to Saffy] Sweetheart, just a little filling.

Saffron:
Mountaineers have died falling into shallower raveens than your wrinkles.

Edina:
Oh, shut up!

Bubble:
Minnie Driver? Is it a dwarf?

Edina:
[Edina had an overdose of parralox and cannot speak coherently, nor move her facial muscles, so she seems spastic] Dududu... bbblll... ggggllll... bllllggugguuuu...!

Labour Party Man:
[shocked] Oh my god! What's the matter with her?

Edina:
Gggglll... doodoo... ggggllll... Oooo... gggggg!

Saffron:
She always does this! [smacks her, revolted] She does it for attention!

Edina:
No Twiggy, we want to go with you for this. We could've gotten Kylie, but we know you have more class. You don't need to parade around with a pair of gold lame hot pants wedged up your chocolate starfish to make an impression.

Saffron:
What's happened to your face?

Edina:
Darling, she's just had a bit of the botox.

Patsy:
No, it's not botox. It's "parralox."

Saffron:
You look like a zombie.

Edina:
She still has emotions, you know. She just doesn't have to pay for them in wrinkles.

Patsy:
I'm happy about that, can't you tell?

Edina:
No.

Patsy:
Money well spent.

Edina:
Your t**s are the key to your cage, darling.

[Edina is sitting in court next to her lawyer, with Patsy, Saffron and Gran behind. They are looking up at the magistrate, who is reading out the list of charges against Edina]

Judge:
...driving without a license, driving without insurance, not wearing a seatbelt, having no tax disc displayed, driving over the legal speed limit, driving under the influence of alcohol, allowing another person to drive your vehicle under the influence of alcohol. In the region of ?5,000 of parking fees owing, ?6,000 of damage to property. Charges of assault and abuse - the charges of attempted murder and robbery have been dropped. Shoplifting...

Patsy:
[to judge] My name is Patsy Stone. I'm an alcoholic, and what she did was an act of humanitarian mercy.

Judge:
That is hardly a reason to steal a crate of champagne.

Eddie:
Have you any idea how much champagne costs these days? I was forced to steal it. My daughter wouldn't have allowed me to buy it.

Judge:
I must ask you to sit down as stop wasting the court's time. The sum of ?50,000 is to be paid by you in damages, and a further fine of ?2,000. You will also be liable for all cost incurred.

Eddie:
[to Saffron] Well, getting rid of my chauffeur was a little bit of a falso economy, wasn't it sweetie?

Judge:
...and a lifetime ban on driving. And, finally, Mrs. Monsoon...

Eddie:
Can I just say one word in my defense, um?

Saffie:
I don't think that's a very good idea, Mum. Your mouth is working for the prosecution.

Eddie:
Oh, darling, this is what I do well, sweetie. You might pick up a few tips for the Debating Society, you never know. Without notes, Saff.

[Gran claps]

Eddie:
Thank you, thank you.

[to judge]

Eddie:
Right - I, the proposed accused, think that, well, I mean, you know, well the day in question was not a good day for me, all right? But I put it to you that I don't see how any day could have been good the way this bloody country's run. Well, you know, I was just trying to do my best, trying to get from A to B, do a little shopping. I was trying to take control of my life, you know, only to find that it's actually controlled for me by petty bureaucracy and bits of bloody paper - ignorant bloody petty rules and laws that just obstruct every tiny little action until you've committed a crime without even knowing it! I mean, you know, why can't life just be made a little easier for everybody, eh? Why can't it be more like the Continent, and then run down the street in front of charging bulls whilst letting fireworks off out of his bloody nostrils without anyone blinking an eye? Uh? Because it's probably a local holiday and nobody's at work because they all want to have just a little bit of fun and they're not intimidated by some outdated work ethic. I mean, there has to be more to life than just being safe...

Judge:
Is there a point to all of this?

Eddie:
[explaining to the judge her problems with the law] Yes, Yes!... Why, oh why, do we pay taxes, hmmm? I mean, just to have bloody parking restrictions- and BUGGERY-UGLY traffic wardens, and BOLLOCKY-pedestrian-BLOODY-crossings?... and those BASTARD railings outside shops windows, making it so difficult, so you can't even get in them! I mean, I know they're there to stop stupid people running into the street and killing themselves! But we're not all stupid! We don't all need nurse-maiding. I mean, why not just have a Stupidity Tax? Just tax the stupid people!

Patsy:
[stands up] And let them DIE!

Eddie:
Yes!

Judge:
Anymore of this ridiculous rant, and I'll put you both away!

Gran:
Hear, hear!

Judge:
Edina Margaret Rose Monsoon, I hereby sentence you to...

[Credits roll]

Patsy:
[running into the kitchen holding four cigarettes] LIGHT! LIGHT! LIGHT!

Eddie:
Oh no Pats, not another no-smoking cab. They must see you coming these days.

Patsy:
Bloody bastard asthmatic cab driver!

[at a red light]

Patsy:
Go for it, Eddie!

[first lines]

Eddie:
Sorry I was so long, darling. Had to clear out my wardrobe. All those horrible, revolting, unfashionable clothes that I simply would not wear, darling, because they are not in fashion. I put them in a pile on the floor to throw out.

Gran:
I thought you put them on, dear.

Eddie:
[about Gran] What's that doing here?

Eddie:
These are new! Tell her, Saffy, darling. The seventies are back!

Gran:
Oh, does that mean you'll be voting Labour again, dear?

Eddie:
[about the No Smoking cab] I hope you refused to pay him this time darling.

Patsy:
It was one of your account cabs, Eds. I think you should get him fired.

Saffie:
Oh, so not only do you want the man to die of passive smoking, but you also want to deny him a living of any kind.

Eddie:
Passive smo- I suppose we're shortening your life, are we, darling?

Patsy:
If only.

Eddie:
Just get out.

Saffie:
Bye Gran.

Gran:
Goodbye, dear. Ooh by the way, if you do hit hard times and there is anything you need to sell, my friend Hermione has this little shop.

Eddie:
Bric n' Brac 'n' Knick 'n' Knack - any old things. Any old junk taken. Why don't you trade yourself in? Get out, go.

Gran:
She'd give you a very good price, dear.

Eddie:
Oh, just leave!

Eddie:
[about the Nicotine patches on Patsy's back] They're actually, most of these seem alright darling. They're leaching something out of your skin rather than the other way around.

Saffie:
She's probably recharging them.

Patsy:
Careful Eddie. Don't rip so hard.

Saffie:
Yes, be careful. At her age the flesh slides off the bone like a well-cooked chicken.

Eddie:
For your information, there are some people who'd pay a lot of money for Patsy's body.

Saffie:
Morticians. How much do you think you'd get for a ready-embalmed carcass? No wonder she's always been refused a donor card.

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Whose side are you on? Do you want us to be poor?

Patsy:
You'll be poor...?

Saffie:
That's got you worried.

Patsy:
Eddie, we simply cannot allow them to cut us off like this. Now, listen, sweetie, it is not alimony, it is compensation.

Saffie:
For what?

Eddie:
It's damages, sweetie, for those long crippling hours of painful labour I went through on your behalf.

Saffie:
You had a Caesarean.

Eddie:
Yes, I know I had a Caesarean, darling but... how do you think it feels to wake up every morning and look down and see your stomach still smiling back up at her, hmm? You can't put a price on that!

Eddie:
[to Bubble] Bubble! Wake up, Bubble! Come on! Wake up, darling! Oh, it's like tea-break on the Thunderbirds set. Somebody operate her, please!

Bubble:
I turned on the... hmm... what-cha-ma-call-it this morning...

Saffie:
Radio?

Bubble:
I want to say "telephone"... That's not right... Not right... [going through possibilities in her head] You look at it.

Eddie:
Television!

Bubble:
That's it! Good Morning Television. Hello! Which I don't normally do because I find myself falling back to sleep like that.

Patsy:
Good Morning, Television? My God! If they could market that in pill form, Switzerland would be plunged into a recession.

Eddie:
[to Saffy] Have you any idea what the government do to unemployed people, darling? They are forced to do community service! Putting loft insulation into urine-stinking old people's homes for the incontinent!

Eddie:
I'm not like Saffy, I can't walk around looking like a...

Patsy:
...A stale old piece of toast.

Eddie:
Exactly. It takes more than a cold flannel and some Body Shop oatmeal scrub for me, you know. And I can't meet clients smelling like an old bowl of porridge, can I, sweetie? These are valid business expenses.

Malcolm:
I am doing everything I can within the law.

Eddie:
Oh God, well what on earth is the point of having an accountant if he's within the law? I might as well do it myself. In face, I think I will. Write him off.

Saffie:
Malcolm and I just frightened her into slimming things down a little bit.

Justin:
Oh, she's not a good slimmer, sweetie. I mean she could eat air and put on weight.

Saffie:
Yes, well I intend to keep her thinking she's poor for a while. It mat cut out the worst of her excesses.

Eddie:
Business, business! That's my flowers - thats business.

Malcolm:
Pedicure and nose plugging?

Eddie:
Busin... Don't, don't look at me like that! It is very important for business for me to look good, and looking good costs money!

[last lines]

Eddie:
Community service.

Old Woman:
Oh! Oh, you've come to do the loft. Come in.

Eddie:
[to Patsy] It's all your bloody fault, you know, this.

Saffie:
I use to dream of lovely families.

Eddie:
You had a family!

Saffie:
I lived with you and that piece of flint! You dragged me up! I've lived in such worlds I should have known nothing about! Worlds with no morals and no responsibilities! And not just glimpsed- you took my face with your four hands and pushed it up against the window!

Patsy:
We should have pushed it through!

Saffie:
[to Eddie] You burnt and scared my best friend!

Patsy:
Who?

Eddie:
Titicaca.

Patsy:
Oh.

Saffie:
Her name is Sarah!

Eddie:
Darling, she was standing with her little pigtails too close to a candle!

Patsy:
Act of God!

Saffie:
You were holding the candle!

Eddie:
[to Saffy] I know the kind of little play you will have written. It'll make "Mommie Dearest" look like "Winnie The Bloody Pooh".

Patsy:
You don't want to put on two pieces of Elastroplast and shove in some dental floss and call it an outfit... You don't wanna WHAP your fanny out of the prim! Just slither your tits out of the back of a taxi, I mean they're just mags, sweetheart. They're just mags. They're just receycled snaps. They come up again and again. They just recatagorise them, SHOVE them up their arse, VOMIT them up...

Eddie:
[standing in Eddie's kitchen] Ooh, Val D'Isere... Val D'Isere... Uh... Who was Val D'Isere, Pats?

Patsy:
Val, Val... Valerie D'Isere, darling. French film star.

Edina:
I was taken up, up to Heaven, and I spoke with God

Saffron:
What about?

Edina:
Well, shopping mainly

Crystalline:
You may notice a change in my voice [adopts a West Indian patois] Feel da rhythm of da beat as I take you; feel da rhythm of the beat. [adopts her normal voice] No that's not a good voice. That's the kind of voice that starts out OK but always ends uuuuuup Canadian.