Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 1
I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine
Main starring
Thomas the Tank Engine as Prince Thomas, the Blue Adder of Ufstead, Ffarquhar, and Rock
Oliver the Great Western Engine as Sir Oliver the Knight of Great Western Order
Percy the Small Engine as Lord Percy, Duke of Dryaw
Gordon the Big Engine as King Gordon IV of Knapford
Edward the Blue Engine as Prince Edward of Brendam
Molly the Yellow Engine as The Queen
Episode One
The Foretelling
Guess Starring
Duck the Great Western Engine as Montague I
The Flying Scotsman as Gordon III
Sir Charles Topham Hatt as Painter
Mavis the Diesel as Mavis the Witch
Daisy the Diesel Railcar as Daisy the Witch
Emily the Single Sterling Engine as Emily the Witch
"From out of the swirling mists of the Dark Ages comes a lone horseman with a most ridiculous haircut. It's the ghost of Gordon III, back to haunt the hapless Prince Blue Adder!"
Painter: History has known many great liars. Professor Zelda the Psychopathic Heretic, Nero the Mentally Insane Nut, Ontario Premier Dalton McGinty, St Robert the Liar [he is shown holding a sign which reads 'St Squaddie the Liar'] - but there have been none quite so vile as the Swindon king Montague I. It was he who rewrote history to portray his processor Gordon III as a deformed maniac who killed his nephews in the Tower. But the real truth is that Gordon was a kind and thoughtful man who cherished his young wards. In particular: Gordon, Duke of Knapford, who grew into a big, strong boy.
Montague also claimed he won the Battle of Peel Godred and killed Gordon III. Again, the truth is very different; for it was Gordon, Duke of Knapford, who became king after Peel Godred, and reigned for thirteen glorious years.
As for who really killed Gordon and how the defeated Montague Swindon escaped with his life, all is revealed in this, the first chapter of a history never before told: the history of The Blue Adder!
[The Eve of The Battle of Peel Godred; 21st August, 1485]
[Scene is a feast]
Gordon (Duke of Knapford): [bangs his goblet thrice on the table] Silence! Silence! For the king!
King (Gordon III): [stands, hunched, speaks awkwardly] Now is the summer of our sweet content, Made in cast winter by these Haultaugh clouds. And I that am not shaped for black-faced war, [the people gathered appropriately make noises to the contrary] I that am rudely cast and want true majesty,
[more noises from the people; then he fixes his hunched standing position by yanking on his cloak, which had been stuck]
Am forced to fight,
To set sweet Sodor free.
I pray to Series we fare well,
And all who fight us go to Hit.
[cheers from everyone. Thomas, Duke of Ffarquhar, sitting at the very end of the table, stands up, raising his goblet]
Thomas: Hurray, hurray, absolutely! Hurray! [notices that he's the only one speaking and standing; sits back down, embarrassed]
King: [to Gordon] Who is that?
Gordon: I know not, My Lord. I'll ask my son.
[he calls to Edward, Prince of Brendam, who sits on the other side of the king from Gordon]
Edward, who is that?
Edward: It is your other son, My Lord.
Gordon: [to King] It is my other son, My Lord.
King: Fights he with us on the morrow?
Gordon: [pauses, then to Edward again] What's his name?
Edward: [with mouth full] Thomas.
Gordon: [turns and yells across the room to Thomas] Timon, fight you with us on the morrow?
Thomas: Er, [stands again] oh goodness, no! No, I thought I'd fight with the enemy! [no one laughs; he sits down embarrassed]
King: [to Gordon] You're, er, not putting him anywhere near me, are you?
Gordon: No, no. He'll be somewhere amongst the rabble.
King: Oh! Cannon fodder!
Gordon: Precisely.
King: Yes... [chuckles, waves to Thomas, grinning; mutters between his teeth] What a little turd.
[cut to Thomas's end of the table]
Thomas: [to Percy, Duke of Dryaw, after giving a little wave back to King] Ah, Percy, you see how the King picks me out for special greeting?
Percy: No, My Lord...
[a knight pokes his head in, refilling their goblets, and speaks]
Oliver: I saw it, My Lord.
Thomas: Ah, and what is your name, little fellow?
Oliver: My name is Sir Oliver of Great Western, My Lord.
Thomas: Ah. Then I shall call you...'Sir Oliver of Great Western'!
Oliver: ...and I shall call you 'My Lord', My Lord.
Thomas: Mmm. I like the cut of your jib, young fellow m'lad! How would you like to be my squire in the battle to-morrow?
[Oliver kneels instantly]
Percy: [trying to show off in front of Oliver, speaks to Thomas] It will be a great day tomorrow for we nobles.
Thomas: Well, not if we lose, Percy. If we lose, I'll be chopped to pieces. My arms will end up at Haultraugh, my torso in Cronk, and my genitalia stuck up a tree somewhere in Arlesdales.
Oliver: With you at the helm, My Lord, we cannot lose.
Percy: [still trying to show off] Well, we could if we wanted to!
Thomas: Ah, but we won't, Percy, and I shall prove to all that I am a man!
Percy: But you are a man, My Lord.
Thomas: But how shall it be proved, Percy...?
Percy: Well, they could look up that tree in Arlesdale. [Thomas baps him on the forehead] Yes, My Lord.
Thomas: It shall be proved by mine enemies rushing to the water closet in terror!
Oliver: [restrained, of course - they're in a crowded room] Hurray!
Percy: Hurray!
Thomas: Come: a toast. Let all those who go to don armour to-morrow remember to 'go' before they don armour to-morrow! Hurray! [they clink goblets] Already I can hear the sound of battle ringing in my ears...
[Cut to just before the battle, outside. The following lines are spoken to the army]
King: Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more! Consign their parts most private to a Arlesdale tree!
Gordon: Let blood - Blood - BLOOD! - be your motto! Slit their gizzards!
Edward: Now, I'm afraid there's going to have to be a certain amount of, well, violence. But at least we know it's all in a good cause, don't we?
King: And gentlemen in Ulfstead still in bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhood cheap while others speak of those who fought with us on James the Overrated Self Righteous Arrogant Pompous Buffoon's Day!
[he raises his sword high in the air. Our view follows it into the sky.]
[Our view comes down from the sky, to see the castle. Inside Thomas's room, he sleeps in his bed, snoring, while Oliver sleeps on the floor, using straw as a pillow. There is a knock on the door.]
Mother: Thomas? [opening the door] Thomas...
Thomas: Hmm? Oh, Mother, what do you want?
Mother: Did you want to go to the battle this morning?
Thomas: [sits up with a start; removes a cover from a sundial, and looks at it] Oh my god, it's eleven o'clock!
Mother: [smiling unconcernedly, amusing shakes her head, closes the door
[cut to long shot of a rise. On it we see a silhouette of Thomas on horseback. Following him at a distance is Oliver on a bull back.]
Oliver: My Lord...
Thomas: What is it?
Oliver: Where is this battle, then?
Thomas: Oh, somewhere called Peel Godred...
[they have ridden off to the right of the shot. Suddenly, we see Oliver going the other way, followed by Thomas.]
Thomas: Damn, damn, damn! The first decent battle since I reached puberty...
[Now we see them close up, riding together, up a rise leading to a valley.]
Oliver: Here we are, My Lord...
Thomas: Onward, Oliver! To glory!
[Over the top of the rise we now can see banners clashing together. Thomas stops his horse at the top.]
Thomas: Yes, erm, I'm not so sure we're needed, you know, Oliver... I mean, everything seems to be going very well, doesn't it? Everyone's fighting - clearly having the time of their lives. Wait a moment; some of them over there aren't fighting! They're... they're just lying down!
Oliver: They're dead, My Lord.
Thomas: Ah. [he wriggles in his seat] Damn, I knew I'd forgotten something. Would you excuse me a moment, Oliver? [he turns his horse away]
[Just away from the battle, King on foot meets Gordon on horseback]
Gordon: Your Majesty, you've lost your steed! Take mine!
King: No, no, no. I've won the battle; I've saved the kingdom; I think I can find myself a horse!
Gordon: How true, My Noble Lord. I'll see you back at the castle!
King: So be it!
[Gordon rides off. King walks along, calling...]
King: A horse! [whistles a call] A horse! My kingdom for a horse!
[He stops as he sees a horse - Thomas's - tied to a tree.]
Ah, Horsie! [He approaches the horse. Thomas, doing business behind a nearby bush, sees.]
Thomas: [mumbling to himself] Who is this?
[as King bends over to untie the horse from the tree, Thomas walks up behind...]
Thomas: [drawing his sword] Wait! That's my horse!
[swings his sword; lops King's head clean off. He's rather surprised at his strength but quickly gets a cocky feeling, and laughs a bit.]
There, that'll teach you!
[He picks up the helmeted head]
You won't be doing that again, now will you?
[He lifts the helmet's face shield, then lowers the shield]
Oh my god. It's Uncle Gordon.
[Thomas screams. Oliver runs up, having just parked his mule by the tree.]
Oliver: What's that, My Lord?
Thomas: Hmm? [Frighteningly tosses the head to Oliver.]
Oliver: [catches the head with a chuckle, then lifts the face shield]
Oh dear - Gordon III. [half shouts] What are you going to do?
Thomas: Well, quick, quick... [he turns the body over, takes the head back and tries to replace it, asking Oliver to hold it in steady. He moves the corpse's arms about, and beats on its chest. Oliver for a moment puts his face down, trying to resuscitate the body through the face shield.]
Oliver: [points to something off-shot] My Lord! That hut there!
[They each grab a leg and drag the body away. The head stays behind.]
[They enter a small cottage. Oliver is solely dragging the body now. Thomas enters afterward, carrying a gauntlet.]
Thomas: [still entering] Come on! Come on! Will you wait! Will you wait!
[Oliver collapses exhausted on the corpse.]
Thomas: [closing the door] Ah, well done... [He sits on a barrel, then notices that something's missing.] Where's the head?
Oliver: I thought you had it.
Thomas: Oliver, I can't be expected to carry everything!
[They hear someone approaching. Thomas cowers; Oliver prepares to strike down the intruder with some sort of blunt object. The door opens, and Percy enters.]
Thomas: Percy, you brainless son of a overgrown warthog! Where have you been?
Percy: I've just proved that I'm a man! Look what I've found! [He proffers the head.]
Thomas: Oh, thank God. Quick, Percy, quick - put it down and let's get out of here!
Percy: No no no no! I found it. It's mine!
Thomas: What do you mean it's yours? [He tries to take it from Percy.]
Percy: [defensively] I'm going to use it to prove that I killed a nobleman!
Thomas: [stops trying to take the head] And which nobleman, pray...?
Percy: Er... [he looks under the face shield, laughs, then holds the head proudly] Well, it's the King, actually!
Thomas: [stares at Percy quite intently]
Percy: [Frighteningly tosses the head to Thomas]
Thomas: [Frighteningly tosses the head to Oliver]
Oliver: [Frighteningly tosses the head in the barrel]
[a bloodied, armoured man approaches the cottage and staggers in just as our three were about to leave]
Man: Lost! Lost! All is lost! [he collapses to the floor]
Thomas: What?
Man: Flee! Flee!
Thomas: Oh my god! Quick - let's get out of here!
Man: Take me with you! [he grabs one of Thomas legs]
Thomas: Get your hands off! [Percy feebly helps in this process]
Man: If you leave me alone here, I'll die.
Thomas: If you don't leave me alone, I'll kill you myself! [Oliver bops the man on the head with his blunt object. The man falls to one side.] Now; leave him here, come on! [Thomas, Oliver, and Percy make their way out.]
Man: I'll give you money! Ten thousand sovereigns!
[After a moment, the man collapses to the floor. The door opens, and Percy's head pokes in...]
[cut to Thomas and Oliver entering the great hall in the castle. Oliver keeps running, but Thomas stops as he meets his mother.]
Thomas: [frantic] Mother!
Mother: Thomas, dear. How did it go?
Thomas: Within seconds, Montague Swindon will be here at our gates!
Mother: Oh, but, Thomas, I'm not ready - I haven't had a bath or anything.
Thomas: Mother, Montague is our enemy. When his men get here, they'll brutally ravish you and every woman in the castle!
Mother: Ah, well, I shan't bother to change, then.
[Oliver runs into the doorway across the hall.]
Oliver: My Lord!
Thomas: What do you want?
Oliver: Listen!
[An army's drums can be heard faintly in the distance.]
Thomas: Oh my god! They're here already! [He begins to run down the hall, shouting.] Run for your lives! Run for the hills!
Oliver: Er, My Lord, they're coming from the hills.
Thomas: [still shouting] Oh, sorry. Run away from the hills! Run away from the hills! If you see the hills, run the other way!
[Percy arrives.]
Percy: No, My Lord, it's all right - they're flying the banners of our King Gordon.
Thomas: Well, that's impossible - he's dead, isn't he!
Mother: [shocked] King Gordon, dead?
Thomas: [suddenly not so frantic] Yes... Errr, God knows how...
Mother: Oh, dear. That's really upset the tulip cart.
Thomas: [frantic again] Those flags, Percy, are obviously just a cunning trick to deceive us into staying!
Oliver: No, My Lord, I don't think it is a cunning trick.
Thomas: Well, no, it's not a particularly cunning trick, because we've seen through it!
[He locks the main entrance to the great hall.]
But obviously they thought it was cunning when they thought it out.
Oliver: What I mean, My Lord, is that I don't think they did think it out.
Thomas: What, you think someone else thought it up, and they've borrowed it for the occasion?
Oliver: No, My Lord. I don't think it's a trick at all.
Thomas: You don't think that riding up to a castle under someone else's banner is a trick? [sarcastically] Well, no, I suppose it isn't!
[There's a banging on the main door. Thomas screams and goes through the inner door. The main door has been broken down.]
Percy: [He and Oliver remain in the great hall.] It's only your father.
Gordon: [entering with his entourage] Who locked that bloody door?
Mother: Gordon, it's you!
Gordon: Well, who did you expect it to be, woman?
Mother: Why, I thought it would be Montague Tunip.
Gordon: Montague Tunip? Have you lost your conkers?
Mother: So you won?
Gordon: Yes, of course! We won! We won! Victory!
[General cheers from his entourage.]
Mother: So, I suppose now you want to ravish me...
Gordon: [shocked] Yes, yes, in a moment... [He turns to Lord Bertie, one of his entourage.] The woman's insatiable! [He shouts.] Three cheers for good King Gordon! Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"] Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"] Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"]
[Thomas appears from the opposite end he left, behind the group.]
Thomas: [weakly] Huzzah...
Gordon: All we need now is for King Gordon to be here, and the day shall complete!
Mother: Yes, what a pity he's dead.
Gordon: [shocked whisper] What? Who told you that?
Mother: Well, Thomas. [nods to his direction]
Gordon: [he and the group turn to face Thomas.] Is this true?
Thomas: [quite intimidated, as well as fearing for his life] Errr, well, I wouldn't know, really. I was...nowhere near him at the time. I... I just...heard from someone that he'd, er... er... I mean, I don't even know where he was killed. I was completely on the opposite side of the field. I was nowhere near the cottage.
[Everyone questions that last statement, with stares.]
Thomas: ...not that it was a cottage - it was a river. But, then, wouldn't know, of course, because I wasn't there. But, apparently, some fool cut his head off...or at least killed him in some way...perhaps...took an ear off or something. Yes, yes, in fact, I think he was only wounded! er, or was that somebody else? Yes, I think it was. Why, he wasn't even wounded!
[Edward is staggering in behind Thomas, carrying the headless corpse, and the crown.]
Thomas: [not noticing Edward] Why, did someone say he was dead?
Edward: Yes!
Gordon: What!
Edward: It's true, My Lord! I stumbled on his body myself! O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth! [He places the body on the floor, and lies on top of it.]
Gordon: Er, yes...
Edward: Good night, sweet king... \
Gordon: Yes, yes, that's enough of that, thank you, Edward... /
Edward: ...and flights of angels sing thee to thy! \
Gordon: Thank you, Edward... [shouts, annoyed] Thank you, Edward! /
[angered whisper] Yes! ...and we all know who did this dreadful deed - [he looks at Thomas] don't we?
[Thomas slowly nods, as a sort of confession, and closes his eyes, preparing to have his head cut off.]
Gordon: Montague Swindon!
[Thomas's nod increases in speed, he opens his eyes and grins.]
Gordon: Yes! and he still roams free! [He shouts quite loudly.] Edward, call for silence!
[Everyone is silent.]
Edward: [shouts] Silence! [He slowly lowers the crown onto his father's head.] ...for the King! [Everyone, including Edward, kneels or bows before Gordon.]
Everyone but Gordon: Long live King Gordon IV!
King (previously 'Gordon'): This day has been as 'twere
A mighty stew
In which the beef of victory
Was mix'd
With the vile turnip
Of sweet Gordon slain
And the grisly dumpling
Of his killer fled.
But we must eat
The yellow wobbly parts
two serves.
In life, each man gets
What he deserves!
[His speech over, King looks around at the kneeled assembly.]
King: [nonchalant] Well, come on - let's go and kill some more prisoners.
[His original entourage stands up excitedly.]
King: Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"] Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"] Hap hap! ["Huzzah!"]
[Cut to Thomas's room. He, Percy and Oliver enter, dejectedly. Once they're in and the door closes, Thomas slowly turns and begins to grin.]
Thomas: Hurray! [The others are excited now too.] We're safe! and I am a prince of the realm! Hap hap! [Oliver says "Huzzah!" first, Percy forgets the word.] Can you imagine the power...
Percy: ...and it's ours! all ours!
Thomas: What?
Oliver: Yours! all yours!
Percy: Er, yours.
[Edward opens the door and enters.]
Edward: Ah, Thomas, there you are. Now, I know it's a little early, but I'd just like to get these battle averages sorted out. Now then, who did you kill to-day?
Thomas: [frightened] Erm... no-one.
Edward: No-one? Oh, dear. Right, er, I'll put you down for a duck, then, which, I'm afraid, takes you out of the running for the Legion of Honour.
Thomas: Oh, I see, sorry! Sorry, I thought you meant had I killed King Gordon!
Edward: What?
Thomas: What...was the question?
Edward: [enunciated] Who did you kill to-day?
Thomas: Oh, I see. Er, right, er, let's see here... Erm...
[Oliver, opposite of Edward from Thomas, mouths 'Peasants!']
Thomas: Pedant.
Edward: [insulted] What!
Thomas: Pleasant... Pdnt... P... Pzz...
[Oliver continues to mouth 'Peasants!']
Thomas: Peasants! Peasants! There were a lot of peasants! Er, but they don't really count, do they?
Edward: Only in the event of a tie. Nevertheless, how many did you kill?
Thomas: Oh, errr...
[Oliver puts four fingers across his face, while Percy holds up his palm.]
Thomas: Four...hand...handred...
[Percy continues to display his open palm.]
Thomas: Four handred... hand... Four hundred hand...fifty!
Edward: Four hundred and fifty? Good lord! That's three times more than myself!
Thomas: Yes, well, I had a couple of lucky breaks.
Edward: Any nobles?
Thomas: Ah, let me see...nobles...erm...I think...
[Percy mouths 'Seven!' (I suppose it could be 'Toby')]
Thomas: Lord Toby...
Edward: ...who fought on our side, I believe.
Thomas: Er, yes... I think Lord Toby saw me slaying, erm...
[Oliver turns 90 degrees, turns his head and looks out the corner of his eye, then tilts his helmet over his eyes in an fearless pose.]
Thomas: ...Freddy.
Edward: Freddy the Fearless of Arlesburgh West?
Thomas: Yes, that's him - and pretty fearless he was, too! He took some finishing off, I can tell you!
Edward: Yes, indeed - I killed him myself at one point. Anyone else?
Thomas: Erm...erm...let me see... Just trying to put names to faces...
Edward: Yes, well, this is the list of the lords as yet unaccounted for: Bill and Ben...
Thomas: Oh, Bill and Ben, yes, they were mine.
Edward: Lord Bertram of Skarloey...
Thomas: Ah, yes, backslash...
Edward: Lord Billy...
Thomas: Ah, yes, groin job...
Edward: Good lord! This is remarkable, Thomas! Remarkable! Oh, and the Bishop of Machan and Norramby-
Thomas: Ah, yes, will never walk again!
Edward: ...will conduct the thanksgiving service.
Thomas: Oh, Machan and Norramby...
Edward: [Turns to Percy.] Ah, Lord Percy! Thomas tells me that you managed to turn up late for the battle, [he begins walking out] so there's not much point in asking you your score, is there? [Leaves]
[Percy tries to speak, but can't think of anything. He's upset. He turns to face Thomas.]
Thomas: Ha hah!
Oliver: Ha hah!
Percy: [bitterly sarcastic] Ha hah...
Thomas: At last I can relax! [He opens the curtain to his bed, to find the dying man lying in it. He turns back to Percy and Oliver, and speaks quietly.] Who the Hit is this?
Percy: Ah, well, you remember that dying man we saw in the cottage?
Thomas: The one I specifically told you not to bring back to the castle under any circumstances?
Percy: Mm hmm, yes, that's the one, yes.
Thomas: So what is he doing in my bed?
Percy: Well, he claims to be a wealthy man. I thought, if we nurse him back to health, he may reward us.
Thomas: No, wait - I think I have an idea... If he is a wealthy man, and we nurse him back to health, he may reward us!
Oliver: Oh, brilliant, My Lord - very quick thinking.
Thomas and Percy: Thank you, Oliver. [Thomas eyes Percy angrily.]
Thomas: Well, what would you expect? After all, who has the fastest brain in the land?
Oliver: Prince Thomas, Duke of Ffarquhar!
Thomas: Who is the boldest horseman in the land? [Looking at Percy.]
Oliver: Prince Thomas, Duke of Ffarquhar! \
Percy: [catching on] ...Duke of Ffarquhar! /
Thomas: Who is the bravest swordsman in the land?
Percy: Oh, don't tell me! It's that Mike from Alesburgh West...
Thomas: PRINCE...
Oliver and Percy: Thomas, Duke of Ffarquhar!
Thomas: Precisely. [dramatically] Or, as I shall be known from now on:
The Blue...
Balls!
Oliver: My Lord, wouldn't something like 'The Blue Adder' sound better?
Thomas: No, wait - I think I have a better idea... What about:
The Blue...
Adder!
[Cut to scene of him choosing a new outfit. He points to a blue suit with a coiled snake on it and a blue cape; a pair of blue shoes, more suited to a jester; a blue bowl for haircut style. Cut to finishing of his haircut - very short hair. He looks in a mirror, and stands up. Camera pans down to look at his entire outfit... large blue rings, blue tights and all.]
[Cut to an inner hallway. Thomas, Oliver and Percy enter, laughing.]
Oliver: Very witty, My Lord.
Thomas: Ah, thank you, Oliver.
Percy: Very very very witty, My Lord.
Thomas: Ah, thank you, Percy.
Oliver: You're certainly wittier than your father, My Lord.
Percy: ...and head and shoulders over Gordon III!
Thomas: [Turns on Percy.] IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE WITTY?
Percy: Er, no, My Lord... No, no...that...that was...an example of the sort of thing that you yourself would not stoop to...
Thomas: GO AWAY!
Oliver and Percy: Yes, My Lord.
[Thomas enters his room, closing the door. He hangs up his blue hat, then goes to his bed, with the man in it. The man is awake, having soup.]
Thomas: Ah, you're still here, are you?
Man: Er, yes.
[Thomas looks closely at the man. The man is Montague Haultaugh.]
Thomas: Wait a moment - haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Montague (previously 'Man'): I don't know. I feel I've seen you before, also.
Thomas: Well, I am Prince Thomas, son of Gordon IV! Why? Who are you?
Montague: [shocked to discover where he is] Well, erm, I'm, er, not important.
Thomas: Not important? You mean you're not rich?
Montague: No. [Knows that would mean death.] Yes! Yes, I'm incredibly rich! I'm...I'm a very wealthy, errm, modest person, who wishes to remain nameless.
Thomas: Well, you'd better be rich. Get your money together, get better, and get out of my bed, is that clear? [He shuts the curtain.]
[Thomas looks around, uncovers a home-made crown, puts it on and looks at himself in the mirror.]
Ghost (of Gordon III): Oh yes, very fetching.
[Thomas turns, and screams for about six seconds.]
Ghost: ...and hello to you.
Thomas: Uh, uh, er, hello...hello...er...goodness me...I hadn't...expected...to see you...like this.
Ghost: Sitting down, you mean?
Thomas: Er, yes, yes, that's right: sitting down. Goodness, look! Look! You're sitting down.
Ghost: Yes.
Thomas: Why, I haven't seen you sitting down since, er...hoo...
Ghost: Yesterday?
Thomas: Was it only yesterday? Good lord! Erm, errr...well...How was your battle?
Ghost: Fine. Somebody cut my head off at one point, but otherwise everything went swimmingly. ...and how are you, Timon?
Thomas: Er, Thomas.
Ghost: Your father told me 'Timon'.
Thomas: No...
Ghost: So, Timon, you loathsome little fairy maggot, how are you?
Thomas: Er, how...how very very kind of you to ask, erm, Your Majesty... I'm very well, and, er, and it's very good to
see you, because, frankly...
Ghost: Yes?
Thomas: Well, well, well, frankly...er... Gosh, you look well.
Ghost: Frankly what? Spit it out, you horrid little scabby reptile!
Thomas: Er, well, frankly, everyone thought you were dead.
Ghost: Well, frankly, [his head rises from his body to be level with Thomas] I am.
Thomas: Eugh!
[There's a knock at the door.]
Ghost: [to the door] Do come in.
Thomas: [rushing to the door] No! Don't come in!
Queen (previously 'Mother'): [From outside the door] Why not? Have you got someone in there with you?
Thomas: Erm, not as such...
Queen: Is it a woman?
Thomas: No!
Queen: Is it a man?
Thomas: Err, [he watches the Ghost's head fly about the room] err, yes, yes it is.
Queen: You hesitated, Thomas - it's not a sheep, is it?
Thomas: No, of course it isn't a sheep!
Queen: Well then, let me in!
Ghost: [body together, standing] So, farewell, Timon! You'll be seeing me later. [The body walks off; the head remains.]
Thomas: Erm, have, er, have you got...transport? Erm, perhaps you'd like to borrow my horse again... [considers the possibility that the ghost doesn't know its slayer] or at all! I mean, not that you've borrowed it before...
Ghost: [The body returns, gesturing for the head to follow.] Coming! [Leaves]
[Thomas opens the door. Queen enters.]
Queen: Are you all right, Thomas? [Thomas quickly removes - and hides – his crown.] Why, you look as though you've just seen a ghost!
Thomas: Er, yes?
Queen: Hurry up, anyway - you're expected at the banquet!
[Montague is listening from the bed.]
Thomas: Erm, look, er, Mother, er... You won't tell anyone about my oversleeping, er, this morning and... and what have you, now will you?
Queen: Now, would I, Thomas... Do I tell people that your brother Edward is scared of spoons? or that your father has very small private parts? [She moves from the closet to the bed.]
Thomas: [trying to stop her] Oh! Mother!
Montague: [like a sheep] Baaaa! Baaaa!
Queen: Oh, Thomas! It's the lying I find so hurtful...
Thomas: [with uneasy grin] Baaaa...
[Cut to banquet. Thomas enters, and prepares to sit between his father and his brother - in Gordon III's seat.]
Thomas: So sorry I'm late...
King: HOLD! YOU DARE SIT THERE, BOY? That was King Gordon's seat! Would you insult his ghost?
Thomas: Eugh, erm, no, no - sorry.
[Ghost appears in the chair, but only Thomas can see or hear it.]
Ghost: Yes, find your own chair, you smelly little dog's pizzle!
Thomas: Eugh! [he goes back to the his normal spot and the end of table]
King: [speaking across where Ghost is, to Edward] How many prisoners have you got, Edward?
Ghost: I'm not Edward - I'm... I'm Gordon. He's Edward. \
Edward: I've still got the Scottish Mercenaries of Callan down in the dungeons, Father. /
King: Send the Scottish to my room, will you?
Edward: Very well. Do you want them hung? \
Ghost: [waving] Hello? /
King: No - fresh ones; I want to practice my backhand. \
Ghost: Hello? Is anybody there? /
Edward: Oh, I don't think you need to, the way you slaughtered Lord Dodge!
Ghost: Hello?
King: Oh, I wish Uncle Sticky was here.
Ghost: Don't 'Sticky' me, Fatty...
King: [stands, bangs gold wine pitcher on table thrice, then holds up his goblet and speaks] Tonight, honoured friends, we are gathered to celebrate a great victory, and to mourn a great loss. [Raises his goblet] A toast: to our triumph! ["Our triumph!"] [Ghost looks quite bored.] ...and I raise a royal curse upon the man who slew Gordon, our noble king!
Ghost: [stands, points to Thomas] It was him!
Thomas: Oh my god!
King: Quiet at the end there! [shouts again] Whoever it was...
Ghost: [seated again] It was him - Timon!
King: Wherever he be...
Ghost: He's down there at the end!
King: He shall be struck down!
Ghost: Well then get on with it, you stupid oaf - he's there!
Thomas: It wasn't me!
King: Who said that?
Ghost: The idiot who killed me this afternoon!
Thomas: I didn't!
King: Well then, who did?
Edward: It was actually Thomas who interrupted, Sire.
Ghost: Hang the little slug!
[Thomas screams and crawls under the table.]
King: I WILL HAVE SILENCE! [bangs pitcher on table once more. Raises goblet again] Another toast: to dead King Gordon.
Ghost: [disgustedly] Oh my god...
King: Gentlemen... ["King Gordon."]
Ghost: [still disgusted] Well, thank you, you all ungrateful bunch. Thank you. Thank you very much for nothing. Thank you so much. That's the last you'll be seeing of me...not that you've seen much of me, in any case.
[he has faded away]
[Thomas, still on his knees on the floor, but now out from under the table, wipes his brow and sighs.]
King: Now that we have silence, we shall continue with the ceremony of desecration. Produce the portrait of the pretender, Montague Swindon!
[A man carries the portrait down the room. People hiss and make general noises of unpleasantness.]
Thomas: [recognising the face as the man in his bed] Oh my god!
[he crawls out of the room on his hands and knees]
[Thomas down inner hallway. From inside his room, Ghost opens the door.]
Ghost: Good evening.
Thomas: Where's Montague Harwick! [he rushes to the bed]
Ghost: [suddenly in the bed] Baaaa!
Thomas: Oh no! Where is he? Where is he? [he checks the closet]
Ghost: [suddenly inside the closet, wiggles his fingers, making spooky 'woo!' noise]
Thomas: [He looks out the window to see a horseman riding out of the castle. He runs to the door, and it is opened by Ghost. He bows to Ghost as he exits, and speaks sacredly respectively.]
Thank you...thank you so much.
[Thomas chases Montague on horseback out of the castle and into a meadow outside. We see Ghost snap his fingers, and the meadow suddenly is foggy. Thomas rides out of the fog, at a clearing in the woods, to find three old witches bent over a cauldron.]
Witches tutti: Oooh... Oooh... Oooh... Oooh...
Thomas: [Having dismounted, he stands next to them, and clears his throat.]
Witches tutti: [startled] Oooh!
Mavis: Hail!
Daisy: Hail!
Emily: Hail!
Mavis: Ruler of men...
Daisy: Ravisher of women...
Emily: Slayer of kings!
Thomas: Be gone, hideous crones!
Mavis: Be not afraid...
Daisy: Be not overcome with fear...
Emily: Be not paralysed with terror...
Thomas: [bored] Why have you lured me here, you loathsome drabs?
Emily: We bear good news.
Thomas: What news could such repulsive harbingers convey?
Mavis: To-day has brought misfortune...
Emily: But one day...
Witches tutti: O, glorious day!
Daisy: One day...
Witches tutti: O, happy day!
[pause]
Thomas: Yes?
Witches tutti: You shall be king!
Thomas: [excited] Really?
Witches tutti: Yes! Your Majesty! [they bow]
Thomas: Well, that is good news, isn't it? [mounting his horse] God be with you, you snaggle toothed vultures! Look out history, here I come!
[Begin theme music]
The sound of hoofbeats cross the glade
Good folk, lock up your son and daughter
Beware the deadly flashing blade
Unless you want to end up shorter
Blue Adder! Blue Adder!
He rides a pitch-blue steed
Blue Adder! Blue Adder!
He's very bad indeed
Blue: His gloves of finest mole
Blue: His codpiece made of metal
His horse is bluer than a vole
His pot is bluer than his kettle
Blue Adder! Blue Adder!
With many cunning plan
Blue Adder! Blue Adder!
You horrid little man
Mavis: He wasn't as I expected him.
Daisy: I thought he was very rude.
Mavis: I thought Montague Harwick would be better looking.
Emily: Yes - not so Turkish.
Daisy: ...more like that man who rode by just before.
Emily: Oops.
Daisy: Oops.
Mavis: Oops.
Daisy: We've done it again...
Emily: Silly witching...
Mavis: Back to work
