This episode follows on from R.'s "Fawlty Towers the Tax Man Cometh…"

Computers in Fawlty Towers. What could go wrong?

The holiday season was swiftly coming too a close as the leaves on the trees had begun to turn shades of brown and fall from the trees, Basil Fawlty knew he only had a few weeks maybe a month our two of rest and quiet before the autumn holiday rush, he had taken the time too relax, even use the computer that had helped him with that dreaded tax man a few weeks ago. An uncomfortable time for weary owner of this humble establishment, if it wasn't for the terrible timing of that annoying Yankee smut peddler and his amazing opportunity, he would be sitting on a great retirement plan. However as always the gods had conspired against him to kick him back down.

It had taken him time too adjust too his new computer, he had taken it upon himself to write his memoirs 13 chapters from his purchasing the hotel too that damned skin flick and it's sequel, however one thing that from that movie, he had managed too pay off his debts too the taxman. As a joke he had sent off the first three chapters too a publisher, they seemed too enjoy it, even passing it on too the BBC, his lawyers had been in negotiations with the BBC to make a 12 episode series based on these stories, first episode was based on the second chapter and the horrible so called Lord Melbury, his mind kept running threw the same question 'Who would play him' the BBC wanted the comedian John Cleese, he thought he was a little old for THAT part, however it could work. Perhaps he should mention his American cousin Royal Payne, John Larroquette, the guy from Boston Legal could play him. With a slight chuckle too himself as he shrugged off the thought and continued too write his next chapter.

"Chapter Ten: Waldorf Salad. If there is one thing I despise more then those arrogant Germans are the annoying Yahoo Americans and there bloody Waldorf Salads… An American couple arrived at the hotel late at night expecting to be served a hot dinner. But with the chef off for the night, I was forced to make the dinner myself. Things got even more complicated when the two Americans begin ordering meals that I had never even heard of, I mean what the hell is a bloody Waldorf salad?"

Polly, the long suffering, over worked drastically underpaid employee sat on a chair behind the counter with a pad on her knee, she was drawing a small picture of the hotel to be framed for display, since the seasonal holidays had almost come too a close she had more time then she needed. The whole mood of the hotel had changed recently to a more happier place; even Manuel the whipping boy for the angry giant had become happier. With a slight chuckle too herself she began too sketch a rough outline of Mr. Fawlty with horns and a devil beard, his wife Cybil had a long tail and snakes in her hair, however she quickly redrew things a in the photograph. The door behind her opened and Basil exited the office with a small thin black box under his arm as he grabbed a key from the wall behind him.

"Good evening Polly, I'll be in a vacant suit if needed, I still have some work too do on this next chapter"

"Of course, I have to say Mr Fawlty. You've taken too that laptop computer quicker then I'd imagined. What are you writing?"

"None of your business damned nosey woman"

"Ohh come on… let me in the secret, I may be able too help you"

"Doubtful, but thank you. Perhaps when I'm finished I'll let you read it"

With a slight nod between the two the two he left the reception and headed up the stairs, slowly the sound of his laughter could be heard fading followed by the slam of a door.

The morning after the door to his room opened and the smile of the Spaniard waiter peeped threw the door.

"Meester Fawltee? You in here?"

Slowly a head peaked over the covers of the bed, hair messed up like a busted mattress as a voice croaked.

"What do YOU want?"

"I bring Breakfast, Polly said for you too eat this?"

"Thank you Manuel, place it on the dresser I'll eat it shortly"

"Yes meester Fawltee"

"Manuel, when was your last day off?"

"Qui?"

"Day off? When was it?"

"Ahh um two year ago!"

"Two years?"

"Cee"

"Once breakfast is served, take the rest of the day off with pay. I'll take care of lunch"

"OHH THANK YOU MEESTER FAWLTEE! THANK YOU!"

With a slight bounce in his step the beaten and trodden down little man placed the try on the dresser and the drink to the side before running out of the room with a huge smile.

Almost instantly Basil fell asleep. Almost an hour later he awoke with a smile and walked too the dresser, his eyes widened as he saw the once ice cold drink on the laptop computer, condensation from the glass had ran into the machine, quickly his newly calm attitude changed as he panicked throwing the glass to one side he opened the computer and tried to activate it, nothing it was dead, the faint smell of burning came from the computer.

His voice echoed threw the hotel as everyone looked up the stairs at the sound of something awful being born with in the man.

"WORK YOU VICIOUS BASTARD!… NOOOO! MANUEL, YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"

Crashing of glass and breaking wood could be heard from the tiny room as the door was thrown open and Basil stormed out as quickly as his legs could carry him, at full speed he ran down the stairs three at a time as grabbed Manuel, his eyes where on fire as the man looked up at him with his usual idiotic smile.

"RUN! RUN NOW"

"Qui?"

"Basil? What the hell are you doing?"

"SHUT UP CYBIL! WHY DID YOU DO IT YOU SPANISH IDIOT?"

"Qui?"

His anger had almost reach boiling point as he dropped the little man and turned too look around the reception to see two waiting at reception.

"Umm, problems?"

"Thank you for stating the absolute bleeding obvious you MUPPET! Who the hell are you?"

"Well, we where John Howard Davies and John Cleese, hoping to speak with a Mister Fawlty but I guess not today. Goodbye Mister Fawlty"

Fawlty's eyes opened wide as recognised the names from his meetings at the BBC and attempted to run after the two men. As he got too the door he saw a car pull away at high speed. Quickly his legs buckled and he fell too the floor with tears rolling down his face, yet anger still swelling with in him.

"Why did you do it Manuel? Weeks of work wiped out in minutes…"

Laughing like a mad man he continued.

"…I was going to be rich you know"

"Basil who were those men?"

"From the BBC Cybil, they where going to make my memoirs into a TV series"

Slowly Basil stood too his feet, a slight twitch could be seen in his left eye as he face became eerily calm, he turned slowly towards the door and silently left the hotel, on his way past the sign too the hotel he began kicking and punching it until it broke and fell too the floor. He laughed manically as he jumped on the broken sign like a child before regaining his composure as he slowly walked down the road.

Back inside the hotel all eyes turned to Manuel as he smiled with a questioning look on his face.

"Meester Fawlty come back, he not have his shoes on!"