(The next day, in Preslin's shop, Mickey and Annie are woken by the end-of-curfew-bell. Niether of them notice the Doctor lying face down in the carpet.)
Mickey: OK, baby, time to action. The Sad Dutch Beggar dies today, which probably has something to do with the Massacre, so the best thing to do is get the hell out of here ASAP. I'll see if I can pick up the Doctor from that stupid Abbot place.
Annie: Wow. You're so manly.
Mickey: I know.
(At the Louvre, a safe distance away from the Mona Lisa, the Admiral is chatting to King Charles, the Marshall, a little old guy from Pyramids of Mars called Collins and the cameramen.)
Admiral: All right, you idiots. I'll go through this AGAIN. If we help the Dutch fight the Spanish, the Catholics and Protestants will stop fighting amongst themselves and unite against the dirty Spaniards.
Marshall: Didn't we just go through a royal wedding to do that?
Admiral: Yeah, and it sucked!
Marshall: Point taken. But who pays for this war?
Collins: The English? They kind of owe us big time.
Marshall: Have you MET their Queen?! Ben Elton wasn't taking the piss, she's REALLY like that in real life.
King Charlie: I'm bored. Who wants to play tennis?
Admiral: Shut up, we're busy.
King Charlie: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?
King Charlie: Well. GOOD!
Admiral: You gonna let your mum push you round for the rest of your life or what?
Collins: Dude! Don't GO there!
Admiral: Whoa, I just WENT there!
King Charlie: Sod this for a game of soldiers. I want to play tennis.
(At the Abbot's House, Mickey and Annie enter like they own the place. There is a sign over the door: "WARNING - PRAYER TAKING PLACE".)
Mickey: Yo, Abbot! I know about a Sad Dutch Bastard dying today!
(The Abbot sticks his head round the door.)
Abbot: Who the hell are you?
Mickey: Oh, right, play the hard ball. Ok, monkey boy, I brought back your servant.
Annie: Mickey, you son of a bitch!
(The Marshall enters.)
Marshall: Typical, I leave for five minutes and it all goes to chaos.
Abbot: You two - sod off. Now, Marshall, let us chat about assassinations.
(Mickey and Annie stand to one side as the two chat.)
Marshall: Bondo's ready?
Abbot: Yep, right in the Port St Martin Book Depository. Is the Sad Dutch Bugger one the move?
Marshall: Once he's played a round of doubles with the King.
Abbot: Well, all right then! Allonzee! Time to die, Admiral!
(Mickey and Annie exchange looks and sneak out.)
Marshall: Did you HAVE to use his real name?
Abbot: Ah, who cares? No one's listening.
Marshall: Hang on, those two have nicked off! Who were they?
Abbot: I dunno.
Marshall: God's bollocks, you are a moron! If a gnat had your brain, it'd fly backwards!
Abbot: All's sweet, Marshall. It's too late to stop the chk-chk-boom now!
(Mickey and Annie run to the Admiral's house, conveniently next door.)
Mickey: Yo, shithouse bodyguards, your Admiral's about to be shot!
Muss: Oh, I bet *I* get the blame for this...
(Outside, the Admiral struts his funky stuff back to the house. Daniel Craig looms out of a window with a shotgun... which doesn't fire. Idly, Craig peers down the barrel when it goes off, blowing away his head. The Marshall and the Abbot watch this from their own window.)
Marshall: OK, I refuse to take the rap for this. YOU are going down.
Abbot: You want to take on the Cardinal, sonny jim?
Marshall: He's in Rome. You're in Paris. I'm in Paris. YOU do the math.
Abbot: Yes... I think I feel an extistential crisis coming on. I think I might go to my room for a bit and have a lie down. Maybe even flee to Germany. Whatever takes my fancy.
Marshall: You have completely screwed up everything we planned! What are you, some kind of time traveller determined to change history!? Colbert!
Colbert: C-Man in da houz!!
Marshall: Kill this spiky-haired Scottish fop.
Abbot: Ah, jings.
(Back at the Louvre, Collins rushes in.)
Collins: Dude! Someone tried to kill the Admiral.
King Charlie: Oblidi oblida, life goes on.
Collins: Isn't the Admiral like your best pal?
King Charlie: Oh yeah. I want a public inquiry started to find which son of a bitch caused this outrage! I bet it was the Marshall, wasn't it? Right, from now on, the Marshall is promoted to Admiral's boydguard. If he dies, the Marshall dies. Sorted!
(The Queen Mum, hereafter referred to as "Mrs. Ratbag" enters.)
King Charlie: Oi, you, piss off! You tried to kill my mates! I should have you both executed, your heads cut off for the crowd! What a forward thinker I am!
Ratbag: The Marshall was trying to rid you of an enemy!
King Charlie: You say that EVERY time you kill my friends, you bitch.
Ratbag: The Protestants are evil! They will kill us all! And now there's a Protestant Prince, they'll kill you to get the throne.
King Charlie: PISS... OFF!!
(Mickey is bigging himself up to the Admiral, Muss and Annie in the Admiral's Pad.)
Mickey: See? If you stupid Frenchies listened to me for once, none of this would have happened. You suck. You suck bad.
(Colbert walks out of the Abbot's house and dumps the body in the gutter.)
Colbert: Yo! Wake up, and keep it real! The Abbot of Ambwarzee has been totally killed by some filthy stinking Protestants! Yeah, like, how dare they kill the guy who wanted to start genocide, huh? Free thinkers killing mass murderers! Where will it end, huh? And I'm off...
(Mickey pokes his head out the door as the crowd gathers gossiping.)
Mr Git: They shouldn't be allowed to come here! They done it!
Mrs Git: It's a wicked thing.
Git Junior: The Protestants will stop at nothing! Nothing is sacred to the Hugenots!
Mr Git: Something will have to be done! They must be banned from entering towns!
Mrs Git: Kill them all!
Mickey: Man, you French are such arseholes. I just wish the Massacre killed the lot of you. Bar Annie, I haven't met a single person who wasn't a selfish, amoral, freeloading scumbag. It's like a whole town of Torchwood.
(Mickey approaches the body.)
Mickey: OK, go on. Change your face and we can get out of here.
Mickey: Ok, THIS is something of a surprise. I am out of here...
TO BE CONTINUED...