Verkoff: A Terrible Ego (ix)

ACT NINE – ANNIHILATION

[Jadi approaches Magnus, who is sitting on a bench.]

Jadi: [nervously, to himself] Think Raphael. Big, butch future Raphael with the eyepatch and swords. Do not panic. What would Robbie Coltrane do in this situation?

[Magnus glares at him.]

Magnus: What?

Jadi: [in a high-pitched voice] Ahm. You, er, beat up Phoebe yesterday.

Magnus: And?

Jadi: And... I would... like to... thank you. I’d been meaning to do that for ages. Oh yes. I hate girls so much. [with gathering gusto] Stupid bitches with their hair and, er, eyes and things. I’d like to shake your hand for doing what we all wanted to do deep down. Perhaps you could, um, give me some tips.

[He rather camply mimes boxing.]

Jadi: You know, to keep the dumb bimbos in line and such? [sotto] Oh, I am going to hell. [louder] I was thinking, after school, maybe a couple of lessons in... physical education?

Magnus: After school.

Jadi: Yeah.

Magnus: By the caretaker sheds?

Jadi: Exactly that. [blinks] I didn’t mention the...

Magnus: No. Phoebe did. I know all about the trap.

Jadi: Phoebe told you? But... you beat her up for saving your life?

Magnus: Yeah. I did. So what do you think I’m going to do to YOU, who was trying to endanger it?

[Magnus rises. He’s a lot taller than Jadi. Jadi swallows.]

Magnus: I’m just waiting for an excuse for your little pal David to annoy me. Then I shall be able to... physically educate him. While you and redhair the slut watch on.

Jadi: [not as calm as he’d like] Leave him alone.

Magnus: Make me.

[Summoning up every ounce of courage and strength, he punches Magnus in the stomach. It doesn’t hurt Magnus at all. Jadi’s hand, however, is in agony.]

Jadi: [depressed] Did that even hurt AT ALL?

Magnus: [thinks] Not really.

Jadi: Oh.

[Suddenly, Magnus slams his hands down on Jadi’s shoulders and forces him to his knees. He starts to squeeze. Jadi screws up his face in pain. The bell rings.]

Magnus: Ah. Well, I’d continue this after school, but I have a choco-coloured nemesis to dispose of. I’ll try and deal with you before the week’s out.

[He releases Jadi and stalks off. Jadi remains where he is, frozen. Sonya passes him.]

Sonya: You OK, Jadi?

Jadi: It’s a coping mechanism. After near-death experiences I get a little paralysis.

[Sonya shrugs and walks off.]

Jadi: Don’t worry about me, Sonya. I’ll be moving in a minute or two. Any minute now.

[He doesn’t move at all.]

Jadi: Any minute now.

[The playground, near three o’clock. It’s deserted. Magnus emerges from a door and heads down to the caretaker sheds.]

Magnus: [amused] Let’s see how good his trap is when I’m here before he can finish setting it up?

[He tries the gate Dave shoved the parcel through. It’s unlocked. Magnus enters. It is a poky chamber mainly filled with gardening equipment and tanks of chemicals. The parcel sits on the floor. Magnus shakes his head at how lame it all is.]

Magnus: Is this supposed to be so pathetic I kill myself in shame?

[An inactive whipper-snipper is slammed down on his head with a metallic clang. Magnus blinks. It slams down another four times. Magnus collapses. His assailant is Jason, who looks terrified.]

[Playground. The school bell rings. The kids leave.]

[The school is now deserted. Nigel emerges from a classroom and approaches the caretaker shed.]

[Magnus groans as he comes to. He is now tied up with ockey straps and dumped in a corner. Jason reverently places a metal box on the floor, the sort of flip-top type one might keep file cards within. Nigel stands by the door.]

Nigel: [grandly] Welcome back from the abyss, Magnesium!

Magnus: You...

Nigel: Me.

Magnus: But... I got here first!

Nigel: No. Jason did. I was always going to be late, hence my arranged detention. Clever, huh?

Magnus: But... I knew about the trap!

Nigel: And how did you manage that, comrade?

Magnus: Phoebe...

Nigel: She told you we were setting you up? She must have neglected to mention the bit where you were kidnapped BEFORE hometime, so there’d be no witnesses. [frowns] I think. She might have genuinely betrayed us but you were so damn stupid you fell for it anyway.

Magnus: When I get out of here...

Nigel: WHEN you get out of here, Maggie, you will have much bigger things to worry about.

Magnus: It’ll be a breeze compared to what I’m going to do to you.

Nigel: Do to me? Maggie, you hurt my bestest friend and closest relation. You can’t DO anything worse than that. But I, however am prepared to give it the old college try.

[Nigel kneels down behind the box and prepares to lift the lid, which will allow only Magnus to see what is actually inside the box.]

Nigel: I just want you to know that, when the pain DOES descend on you, it will be devastating. It will permeate the cells in your body and kick nine colours of shit out of each and every one. There will be no other world but dreadful pain and misery as you street-luge into oblivion.

Magnus: What garbage are you on about now, you stupid Abbo?

Nigel: Tut-tut. OK, Maggie, here’s your fun fact for today. According to the statistics the public are ALLOWED to see, over 96 hundred kilos of plutonium have gone walkabout from the American bases where they should be tucked up safe and sound in their beds. Now, I have no idea where the other 9568 kilos have got to, but thirty-two of them are right here!

[He pats the box.]

Nigel: Spooky huh? And when I open this, you get to see what radiation REALLY looks like. And somehow I doubt you’re going to get super powers. [icy] Let the downpour of destruction begin.

[He flips open the box. A bright blue light spills out, washing over Magnus. He flinches.]

Magnus: Don’t feel anything!

Nigel: Hmmm. It’s blue, not green. Sci-fi lied to us, man! Jase, tell our friend what he’s won.

[Jason pulls out a pile of printed pages and starts reading.]

Jason: “The Hitchhiker’s Guide has this to say about radiation poisoning: avoid it. Organ tissue damage caused by excessive exposure to ionizing radiation in a short period, poisoning triples the odds of developing cancer, tumors, or genetic damage.”

Nigel: In short, it’s plain bad news.

Jason: “The main symptoms are nausea, vomiting, headaches, fatigue...”

Magnus: Whatever.

Nigel: You’re feeling them right now, aren’t you?

Magnus: [not entirely convincingly] I’ve felt worse.

Nigel: What happens next, Jase?

Jason: Uh... “mild fever, infections, poor wound healing, bloody vomit, bloody stools, hair loss...”

Magnus: Hair loss?!?

Nigel: Oh yeah. Lots of what we in the know call “radio activities” for you to do – like judge how many pints of blood you’ve lost going to the toilet, or how long that paper cut will take to heal... if ever... [scary grin] Go on, Maggie. Let your hair fall out!

Magnus: But you’re getting exposed too!

Nigel: Ah. But not as much as you. Not nearly as much. And we have these.

[Nigel holds up a packet of panadols.]

Nigel: Anti-radiation drugs. Smart, huh? And I’m just popping by, YOU are for the duration.

Magnus: Duration?

Nigel: Yeah. The caretaker will let you out tomorrow morning, so that’s only, what, sixteen hours till you get out of the radiation beam. Which I think we all agree would count as “heavy exposure”. Hey, Jase, what happens once he gets the cancer?

Jason: [flipping through pages] Uh, um, wait, cancer, cancer... yeah. Um, “the speed of the condition increases exponentially with the degree of pain and every other feature of the disease is chronic.”

Nigel: So it is going to sting like a BITCH!

[Nigel rises and moves away from the box.]

Nigel: Ooh, nice and cool over here.

Magnus: You can’t do this to me!

Nigel: And yet, somehow, I’ve managed it. It’s a puzzler, is it not?

[A beat. The blue light continues to shine over Magnus, who is starting to sweat.]

Magnus: This is murder.

Nigel: Oh no. Not legally.

Magnus: What do YOU know of legality?

Nigel: More than you, dickhead. You know, Jase here once stabbed me through the chest? Now, if I’d died, he’d have been up for murder. If I’d lived, but died the day after? Murder. Two days later? Murder? Three? Well, you get the picture. The point is, if I died within three hundred and sixty five days, it would have been murder. But three hundred and sixty seven? A year and a day later? Jase would have gone off scott free. And, seriously, I can see you lasting up to three years.

Jason: But, you know, three years of agony.

Nigel: With no hair.

Jason: And bleeding from your bum.

Nigel: But still not murder.

Magnus: I can still get you for this!

Nigel: Maggie, puh-lease. Radiation diseases take days to be detected. Days for which I can flee the country, with my brand new name and haircut. And who is going to believe that a kid brought in some gamma radiation to zap the school bully?

Magnus: But you ARE!

Nigel: And why did I do that, Maggie? What was my motivation? Huh? Got an answer for that?

[Magnus is silent.]

Nigel: Maybe cause of what you did to my sister. Wrap your brain around that. Because if I get arrested or jailed, YOU are still doomed. And that’s worth the price. And as I’ve got myself an alibi, changed my name and dyed my hair means I’m not going to be high on the list of suspects. And thanks to this funky neutron bomb here, the radiation will decay harmlessly. By morning, everything in this shed will be radiation free. Except you of course. So, with no suspect, no motive, no actus rea, menus rea or causation, it’s going to be PHENOMENALLY difficult to pin the wrap on me.

[Magnus is breathing very hard now.]

Magnus: I can have hitmen out on you in an instant!

Nigel: Yeah, that’s it, Maggie, waste your one chance of survival.

Magnus: What do you mean?

Nigel: I mean, you got a choice, Maggie. You can waste what little time there is fighting a doomed court case to try and prove that you drove your fellow students to bringing plutonium in for show and tell, or try and get assassins to hunt me down.... or...

Magnus: Or...?

Nigel: Get treatment, spastic! You go straight to hospital, get all your diplomatic pals to pump you full of antibiotics and bone-marrow stuff. A full-body blood transfusion could only do you good. You might even be able to stop going sterile if you’re quick – but, between you and me, I think you’d be a rubbish dad, so it’s better in the long run.

Magnus: You... you...

Nigel: Dude, I’d say you got about thirty days before you start looking like Davros’ passport photo. Maybe a few months while you can still move without a funky life support wheelchair. Do you really want to waste these last precious moments before your mouth starts bleeding trying to come up with insults? Do you?

Jason: And the kidneys. They start bleeding too.

Nigel: And all under the skin too, I think.

Jason: Yeah, it’s like you turn into one big bruise.

Nigel: Yeah, you don’t last more than two weeks after that though. [to Magnus] Don’t worry dude. With your money and contacts, you might be recovered in a few years. By which I mean you won’t be radioactive. You’ll still be a wizened little goblin unable to eat solids or face direct sunlight, but you’ll be alive. If you can call that living.

Jason: I call that living.

Nigel: Not now, Jase. Seriously though, Magnus, tell me, are you feeling a little bit sick right now? Cause, that could be a good sign.

Magnus: [hopeful] Could it?

Nigel: Oh yeah. If you’re feeling really tired and dizzy and sick, it means your brain is irradiated.

Magnus: How is that good?

Nigel: Well, it means that give or take a day you’ll be more-or-less back to normal.

Magnus: [very hopeful] Really?

Nigel: Sure. Isn’t that right, Jase?

Jason: [flipping through papers] Is it? I don’t remember that.

Nigel: [patiently] Yes you do. Look. [chooses page] See?

Jason: [reads] Oh. Oh yes. “There is a period of several days of comparative well-being called the latent phase of radiation poisoning.”

Magnus: Thank god!

Jason: “Also known as the Walking Ghost Phase.”

[Magnus’ face falls.]

Jason: “After that, cell death in the gastric and intestinal tissue, causing massive diarrhea, intestinal bleeding and loss of water, leads to water-electrolyte imbalance. Death sets in with delirium and coma due to breakdown of circulation. Death is currently inevitable; the only treatment that can be offered is pain management.”

Nigel: But you won’t have an excuse to miss the rest of the school week.

Magnus: [sobs] That’s not real plutonium. You’re making all this up. It’s just a blue light.

Jason: Is that the delirium setting in?

Nigel: I think so. Better get out of here, Jase, I won’t be far behind you.

[Jason carefully creeps out, never going near the blue light. Magnus is panting.]

Nigel: Oh, you must be getting thirsty right about now. How’s your throat? I bet it’s all dry and parched. And your feet? Any fiery torment up your legs? Can you feel that, Maggie? Can you?

[He very obviously can.]

Magnus: Shut up! Shut up! There’s nothing there!

Nigel: Of course there isn’t! How long have you been exposed to this “nothing”, anyway? Apparently memory’s the first to go under that harsh, burning intensity. Then the eyes. My, they DO look red.

Magnus: You’re making this up!

Nigel: You’ll so hate me reminding you of those words when they switch off the life support. But if I’m making it up, why are your fingers tingling?

Magnus: They’re not!

Nigel: Really? Be honest here, Maggie, it could be you’re last chance. Keep your fingers still for a second.

[Magnus does so.]

Nigel: You SURE they’re not tingling? Cause when they stop tingling, that’s when they start to shrivel up. Ooh, I’m getting thirsty just thinking about it! I think my lips are starting to crack. I better go before my skin gets all raw and ravaged. You can take that can’t you?

Magnus: It’s not real!

Nigel: Maggie, baby, do you really think, seriously, that if I got my hands on raw plutonium, I WOULDN’T use it to destroy you utterly? Does that even sound remotely credible? No, I best go before all this hard radiation starts to cling to me. Oh, how horrible it would be, Maggie! Getting it under your eyelids, in your mouth, like scorching sands in your lungs. Oh well, see ya later, Magnus. When your hair’s fallen off and your guts have rotted from the inside out, you can look back on this and laugh.

[Nigel waves and leaves. He almost immediately returns.]

Nigel: Well, assuming you survive the night. But if your spirit separates from your body and there’s no escape except oblivion... then that’s a GOOD thing. Ciao.

[He leaves again.]

[Playground. Nigel and Jason walk away from the sheds. Magnus can be heard shouting.]

Magnus: No! Come back! Come back here at once! I DEMAND YOU COME BACK HERE! RIGHT NOW!

[Jason automatically starts to turn back to the sheds but, without looking, Nigel effortlessly steers him back.]

Magnus: NIGEL! PLEASE! PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU! I’M SORRY! PLEASE!

[They keep walking.]

Magnus: YOU CAN’T DO THIS! IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S INHUMAN!

[Inside the shed, Magnus breaks down in tears.]

Magnus: This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair! I don’t want to die! I don’t deserve to die!

[Nigel and Jason leave the school and walk off into the sunset. They don’t look back.]

Magnus: [suddenly furious] I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING WRONG! I HAVE DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY!!

[The blue glow continues to spray from the box onto him. It seems to get brighter, swallowing him up. Magnus lets out a chilling scream. Fade to black.]

[Behind the toilets, Nigel is present with most of his class, Danielle by his side. He cheerfully lets out a mockery of Magnus’ last scream. The others laugh, bar Phoebe. She has a bruised face.]

Nigel: And I swear the last thing he managed to squawk before it turned into incoherent sobbing was “I have diplomatic immunity!”

[Much laughter.]

Dave: And so he’s gone?

Nigel: Indeed he has.

Jadi: But...

Nigel: I shall let my beautiful better half continue the story. Danielle?

Danielle: Well, I was the runner today so I heard what happened. The caretaker came in today, opened up the shed and Magnus was there. He’d weed himself! And pooed his pants! When he woke up, he just screamed and ran off. At ten o’clock, the front office got a phone call about taking him out of the school. The family had to go to Johannesburg or something for an emergency.

[A plane roars overhead.]

Nigel: That could be him now. [waves] BYE-BYE, MAGNUS!

[Laughter from the kids.]

Phoebe: [icy] You made him think he had cancer.

Nigel: Red, please, was it MY fault he was dumb enough to believe me?

Phoebe: It’s disgusting. You’ve made him think he won’t live till Christmas!

[Some of the kids stop laughing as that concept hits home.]

Nigel: I prefer to think of it as making him never take his hair, skin or fingernails for granted ever again. And how is your bridgework, Phoebe, after poor little Magnus tried to cave your face inside out?

[Jadi (still on his knees) frowns.]

Jadi: But he’s rich and everything. He’ll go to all the best surgeons and stuff.

Danielle: If he has any sense.

Jadi: But won’t they tell him he’s clean right away?

Nigel: Funny thing that, Jadi. You see, the first symptoms of deadly radiation poisoning are EXACTLY the same as hysterical blind panic. It’ll be days before they know for sure he’s clean. And considering he simultaneously pissed AND shat himself in mortal terror, I don’t think he’ll quite be able to understand the fact he’s fine for... ooh. Months.

Dave: And then he comes back here to kill us?

Nigel: No, Dave. I don’t think he will. I don’t pretend to know what, if anything, occurs between him and his parents, but demanding the finest doctors medical science can provide when he is, in fact, in perfect health, is probably going to annoy them. And the idea their son was not only so stupid to fall for the old “blue LED of death” trick, but also as big an asshole to drive someone to do it? He’s not going to help their careers, is he? [snorts] Diplomatic immunity.

Jason: And if he does come back?

Nigel: By the time he’s convinced himself he’s healthy, we’ll have left the school.

Phoebe: And he’s only after you.

Dave: Phe...

Nigel: She’s right. But I have cunningly changed my name. Let’s see him find me. I beat him once. I can do it again.

Phoebe: You’re disgusting.

Nigel: Hey. I resemble that remark.

Phoebe: You tortured him. Mentally tortured him. He could kill himself!

[Some disturbed mumbles from the kids.]

Nigel: I know, Phoebe. I know. And it’s amazing, but if YOU hadn’t told him all about the trap, he wouldn’t have fallen for it and Jason and I would have just been piss-farting about with a blue light bulb in a shed. [leans forward] How does that make you feel?

[Phoebe turns and leaves. Nigel sighs.]

Nigel: I do love the view when she walks away like that. [louder] Just in case anyone else is feeling the arrogant know-it-all-it Jiminy Crickett bullshit, let me remind you that my sister is not out hospital. That Phoebe, despite her lovely diction, isn’t on solids for the next month. That Jadi still can’t bend his legs.

Jadi: [defensively] I’m getting better.

Nigel: Not now, dude, I’m talking. Now. I have got rid of Magnus. I didn’t see anyone else even TRY. You, your parents and your teachers, were letting to let that idiot maim you, kill you, bury you and piss on your graves. But I stopped that happening. For good. Now... is that a bad thing?

[A doubtful “No” from the crowd.]

Nigel: Is it bad you don’t have to worry about turning a corner and seeing that genetic throwback on the warpath? That you get to keep your bus fairs, train fairs, pocket money and food allowances your loving parents work oh so hard to give you?

[A more confident “No”.]

Nigel: Then I think I’m right in saying that what I have done is a GOOD thing!

[A very confident “Yes!”]

Nigel: I am Nigel. The biggest, meanest, toughest son of a seska in this school! I am the antimatter opposite of the school bully. I’m the school hero! Times a million! Lord of this Primary Hill School, Instigator of the Russian Kid Incident, and Stealer of Lusts. I’m your savior... SQUARED! I AM THE BIG N! ALL HAIL THE BIG N!

Crowd: ALL HAIL THE BIG N!

[A long pause. Phoebe can be heard in the distance.]

Phoebe: [vo] GIVE ME STRENGTH!

Danielle: Actually, on second thoughts, that does sound a bit gay.

Nigel: You’re right. Forget the hails bit. [to Danny] You doing anything tonight?

[Outside Nigel’s home. Nigel, Danny, Kenji, Akiro and Nigel’s mum are waiting outside the place as the car pulls up. Togi emerges and opens the passenger door, allowing Bernice to emerge – most of her bruises have faded, but her arm is in a sling.]

Nigel’s Mum: [almost crying] Welcome home, my beautiful Beriniko.

[She pulls her daughter into a hug.]

Bernice: Thanks mum.

[The others clap and let off party-poppers. Bernice gently embraces Akiro, kisses Kenji on the cheek, shakes Danny’s hand... and gives a sad, hurt look to Nigel, before entering the house. Nigel looks around, shocked and hurt. Nigel’s dad emerges from the limo, gives Nigel a cold look and then mutters something to Togi. He then follows his wife, Kenji and Akiro inside. Togi crosses over to Nigel.]

Togi: Mr. Yang wishes to see you in his office at your earliest convenience, Mr. Verkoff.

Nigel: ...excuse me?

Togi: Mr. Yang wishes to see you in his office at your earliest convenience, Mr. Verkoff.

Nigel: Who’s Verkoff? And Mr. Yang... You mean, my dad?

Togi: Indeed. He specifically asked I phrase his request that way.

Nigel: ...right. [to Danny] See you in my room. Don’t touch the Target Novelizations.

[Troubled, Nigel enters the house.]

[Nigel’s dad’s office. The man himself sits at a desk, glowering some paperwork. Nigel enters.]

Nigel: Afternoon, father.

[An awkward pause.]

Nigel: Togi said you wanted to see me.

Nigel’s Dad: I am not your father.

Nigel: ...well, yeah. I know.

[Nigel’s dad finally looks up at him.]

Nigel’s Dad: I am not your father, Mr. Verkoff, but I have tried to be in every way. What time I have at home I ensure am I at the disposal of all my children. Even adopted ones. Yet this has clearly not been enough for you.

Nigel: [hurt] I don’t know what you’re talking about, father. And why are you calling me Verkoff?

Nigel’s Dad: It is your name, apparently.

Nigel: My name? Father, my name...

[Nigel’s dad hands over the paperwork. Nigel takes it. It’s the deed poll form.]

Nigel: Oh.

Nigel’s Dad: Oh. You have chosen to change your name to Nigel Verkoff.

Nigel: What? [flips through the pages] Oh, no, I forgot about the carbon paper bit! It was supposed to be Nigel Deveraux, and now it’s... “Verk Off”. Oh well, I suppose it’s better than what Phoebe wrote originally. Verkoff? It sounds Russian! [sighs] There’s irony for you... Father, I...

Nigel’s Dad: I am not your father. Not any more. By your choice, it seems.

Nigel: Father, this isn’t what it seems to be.

Nigel’s Dad: It “seems” to be you deliberately and of your own free will changed your name. You don’t want to be part of the Yang dynasty any more is what it “seems” to be.

Nigel: That’s not what this is about.

Nigel’s Dad: [hurt] We took you in, Nigel, saved you from life on the streets. All we asked in return was love.

Nigel: [angry] Oh, don’t pull that! I’m nearly eleven years old and I am NOT stupid. I was a tax dodge, a photo opportunity and a novelty pet! Whenever there’s a family photograph, it’s always the black sheep of the family who ends up being photographer, isn’t it? What a coincidence! Yes, you gave me all I wanted, no, you’ve done nothing wrong, but you do not get to spin this as pure altruism on your part! Don’t treat me like I never noticed!

Nigel’s Dad: What did we do to earn such hatred?

Nigel: It is NOT hatred, OK?! [calmer] I changed my name. I disconnected myself from the family. It was not because the family did me wrong. It was not because I wanted some attention or thought I was unloved. It is not because I hate you all and never want to see you again.

Nigel’s Dad: Then why?

Nigel: Because... because I thought it would help.

Nigel’s Dad: Help!?

Nigel: I have done things... am responsible for things I don’t think anyone would be proud of. If it went wrong, if things... came undone, it would be me that took the blame. Not the family. Not Benny. Not you, or mum, or anyone else. Just me. I didn’t quit the team. I just took one for the team.

Nigel’s Dad: [slowly] So this... insult... is actually your attempt at altruism?

Nigel: I assume you can understand my logic if not my motives, father.

[Nigel’s father lets out a very deep sigh.]

Nigel’s Dad: Oh, Nigel. I do not know what disturbs me more. The fact that, after all these years, you do not trust your own family to stand by your side and forgive your sins? Or the fact you seem to be carrying out such sins you are convinced would be unforgivable?

[Nigel doesn’t know what to say.]

Nigel’s Dad: I can only apologize for my failure as a parent.

Nigel: [in a small voice] Dad... please...

Nigel’s Dad: If that is all, Mr. Verkoff? I have a celebration for my daughter to attend.

[Nigel’s dad leaves the office. Nigel deflates.]

Nigel: Oh, what I wouldn’t give for some lethal radiation poisoning right now.

[Nigel’s room. Nigel lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, one arm wrapped around Danielle who lies beside him, her head on his chest.]

Nigel: So. To summarize. Phoebe thinks I’m a psychopath. Akiro thinks I’m a ruthless maniac. Kenji thinks I’m a cowardly asshole. Benny thinks I’m a lying bastard. My dad thinks I’m an ungrateful little shit. My mother is none the wiser. And Togi doesn’t give a damn.

[A long pause.]

Nigel: I have had better days.

[He sighs.]

Danielle: Hey. At least nothing else can go wrong.

Nigel: Suppose not.

[The next day. Nigel’s house is rocked by a scream. In the bathroom, Nigel’s hair is soaked and sudded. He examines his reflection in the mirror while he shouts into the phone.]

Nigel: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT WON’T WASH OUT?!?

[In another house, the phone rings. A sleepy Jason in polka-dot pyjamas answers the phone.]

Jason: [rubs eyes] Hullo?

Nigel: [vo] JASON! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!!!!!

Jason: Uh-oh.

NEXT TIME

NIGEL: Mary Walker! Mary Walker! MARY WALKER!!