LOFTY: I-I'm really sorry, Mrs – Madam –

CONNIE: Oh you will be. Everybody else is going to the grand Christmas Ball at Count Anton Meyer's mansion except a few doctors, surgeons… and you. You will stay here and do menial tasks for everybody.

LOFTY: Please, I've been looking forward to that ball.

ROBYN: You can't make him stay!

CONNIE: Of course I can't. I can just remind him that if he chooses to abandon his post, PATIENTS MIGHT DIE. Do you want that on your conscience, Lofty?

LOFTY: (Sighing.) No.

CONNIE: Anyway, a ragamuffin like you would only look out of place at the ball.

(The audience hisses and boos.)

CONNIE: Please stop that, it's vulgar. Okay, everybody but Loser here. Be ready for taxis at nine pm sharp. Anybody not ready will have to walk. And it's very cold out there.

She stalks out. The others pat Lofty on the shoulder and go to get ready for the Christmas Ball.)

LOFTY: (Looking around furtively then taking a photo out from under his uniform.) I can't believe I won't get to see her after all… not that she'd ever fancy a clumsy loser like me. (Talking to the audience because that's what musical characters do.) Marta Meyer, the beautiful daughter of Count Anton. I saved this photo from the paper and I keep it next to my heart… mainly because I love her, but also because it's one place Connie isn't likely to go groping around. A lady like Marta would never even look at me, but… hey, a man can dream, right?

(Now you'll know what song's coming – Lee has to sing Any Dream Will Do here because it's in his contract, but you'll not be prepared for Charlie Fairhead's first sneak appearance as a dancing bedpan.)

VOICE OFFSTAGE: NO, Charlie! Off stage NOW!

CHARLIE: (Sighing.) Why did they have to put Lily on security tonight?

(He creeps off and lets Lofty finish the song with accompanying hospital staff doing the 'aaah' bits. Then a shabby bent figure with a scarf over her head sidles in.)

OLD SHABBY LADY: Please let me shelter here tonight. I'm so cold.

LOFTY: I can't… it's just not allowed and I'm already in trouble.

(The old lady weeps.)

LOFTY: All right, sweetheart, let's find you an empty cubicle and then I'll wake Honey up and get you a hot drink.

OLD LADY: What's your name?

LOFTY: Lofty.

OLD LADY: What's your human being name?

LOFTY: Ben.

OLD LADY: Ben, you're a sweetheart.

(He leads her to a cubicle. And, sorry about this, one more song about Connie coming up as the old lady pokes her head cheekily out of the cubicle and says to the audience.)

OLD LADY: Little does this lovely man know who I really am. Together we'll defeat that awful woman…

(She sings.)

OLD LADY: I can't give you anything but cheek,

Connie,

Heck I hate to see you here each week, Connie.

You're a bore and what's more, you're botoxed too,

You're a mess and I guess

Meyer wouldn't like you either.

Gee I'd love to see you get the sack, Connie.

Wish you'd move away and not come back,

Connie,

Wish you'd get a transfer to Iraq, Connie.

I can't give you anything but cheek.

(Lofty goes to wake up Honey, who is snoozing across her counter.)

LOFTY: (Quite loudly.) HONEY!

(No response.)

LOFTY: (A little louder.) HONNNNEYYY!

(No response.)

LOFTY: (Almost whispering.) Sex!

(Honey awakens and sits bolt upright.)

HONEY: Oh it's you, sweetie. Want a cappuccino?

LOFTY: No, a nice hot drink… don't grass me up but there's a little old homeless lady in one of those cubicles.

HONEY: ONE big pot of tea and some of my best biscuits coming right up.

(Meanwhile, back in the main reception area, Cal and Ethan strut in wearing their poshest suits, and singing:)

CAL:

ETHAN:) Oh Lord it's hard to be humble,

When you're perfect in every way,

We can't wait to look in the mirror,

We get better looking each day,

To know us is to love us,

We must be one hell of a stud,

Oh Lord it's hard to be humble

When we're blessed with a talent so good.

(They kiss their refections and sing another song.)

CAL: With our aftershave and our poise,

There is nothing stopping us boys,

We shall strut to our cars and strut out on the grass,

We don't want to be crass…. But we both need a lass.

Oooooh, let's go pull a lass,

One who's as bold as brass,

Let's go pull a lass and set her soaring

Up through the atmosphere,

Then we'll waltz back in here,

Oh let's go pull a lass!

Let's go pull a lass, one with a shapely… foot!

Let's go pull a lass and earn a knighthood,

ETHAN: I might be made a Duke!

CAL: Shame you make ladies puke!

BOTH: Oh let's go pull a lass!