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John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme s03e05 transcript

cast: John Finnemore, Simon Kane, Carrie Quinlan, Lawry Lewin, Margaret Cabourn-Smith
music by Susannah Pearse, producer Ed Morrish



Horsebox from the future

Time traveller: Can it be? Can it really be? Excuse me, sir, what year is this?
Man: 1896.
Time traveller: It works! It works! My God, it actually works. Sir, do not be afraid.
Man: Alright.
Time traveller: But you see, this is a -
Man: Time machine?
Time traveller: Yes. How did you know?
Man: Well, you appeared out of nowhere, asked me what year it was, and seemed delighted at the answer, it was fairly self-explanatory.
Time traveller: Oh ...
Man: Still, well done for building one. Er, what's it made of?
Time traveller: Ah, I'm afraid the technology is so far in advance of yours, and I -
Man: No, I meant this. The, the casing. What's that?
Time traveller: Well, as it happens, I made it out of an old horse box.
Man: A horse box!
Time traveller: Yes.
Man: Whatever is that?
Time traveller: Well it's just a box you can put a horse in.
Man: A box! Into which you can place a horse. To think that I should live to see such a thing!
Time traveller: Yeah, it used to be a horse box, now it's a time machine! I mean, I have actually broken free of time itself.
Man: Yes, yes as in Mr Wells' recent novel, I understand, but a box for horses.
Time traveller: It's really not that remarkable.
Man: And, and what is its purpose?
Time traveller: To travel in time!
Man: No, no, the horse box. Once you have placed the horse within the box, what then?
Time traveller: Then, then you can take it places.
Man: But surely the horse takes you places.
Time traveller: Well, yes, but for longer distances than the horse can manage.
Man: So if it's too far for the horse to carry you, you carry the horse?
Time traveller: Yes.
Man: In a box?
Time traveller: Yes! You tow it behind a car.
Man: Car?
Time traveller: Oh, a - a horseless carriage.
Man: Not entirely horseless by the sound of it.
Time traveller: No, no you're missing the point here. The horse box isn't the amazing invention here, the time machine is!
Man: Well, yes except, presumably, it won't work when you try to go back.
Time traveller: Oh? Why shouldn't it?
Man: Well if it did work, there'd be time machines everywhere, and yours is the first one I've seen. But a horse box! Oh, oh, wait here, I'm gonna go and get my horse.



Famous anecdotes 1

Presenter: Famous anecdotes the way they really happened - Arthur Rubinstein
Man: Ah, excuse me.
Rubinstein: Ah, yes?
Man: Ah, can you tell me the way to Carnegie Hall?
Rubinstein: (chuckles) Practice.
Man: What?
Rubinstein: You wanna play at Carnegie Hall, m'boy, you gotta practice.
Man: Play there? I - I don't wanna play there. I wanna go there. I'm meeting my girlfriend outside it.
Rubinstein: Oh, er, yup, sure, it's three blocks down -
Man: Why would you assume I wanna play there?
Rubinstein: Oh, you know I am Arthur Rubinstein, the great maestro
Man: Oh, oh, oh the great maestro, oh forgiiiiiive me, the great maestro for asking you directions
Rubinstein: I - I thought you'd think it was funny, I – I -
Man: Bullshit you just wanted to show off. Oh, and by the way, I didn't say how do I get to Carnegie Hall, I said, can you tell me the way there!
Rubinstein: Yeah, well the way to get to play there is to practice.
Man: GOODBYE!
Rubinstein: Goodbye.



I call shotgun

Dad: Okay, kids. In the car, please.
Girl: Bagsy the fron-
Boy: Shotgun!
Girl: -tseat.
Girl: Aw hey-a.
Dad: Okay, Harry gets the front seat.
Girl: That's not fair, I said bagsy first.
Dad: Did you? Okay, Ann gets the front seat.
Boy: But Dad, she didn't finish saying it, I said shotgun before she finished.
Dad: That is true, Ann.
Ann: But he only said it because he heard me saying it.
Dad: Alright, that's enough. Er, Harry gets the front seat that's final.
Harry: YES!
Ann: No, that's not fair. I'm taking this to Mum!
Dad: Well, that is of course your right.

Mum: Alright, one at a time. So, Ann, you bagsied it?
Ann: Yes!
Harry: She hadn't, she was still saying it.
Mum: I see, and then you bagsied it quicker.
Harry: I said shotgun.
Mum: What? N-no, no, this is a bagsy house. Shotgun has no force of law here.
Harry: It does, everyone knows shotgun.
Mum: I don't think so. Ann gets the front seat.
Harry: No! I want an appeal.
Mum: Well, you have that option, of course, but are you sure it's necessary?
Harry: Yes! I appeal.
Mum: (sighs) Very well. Tell your Dad to go and fetch them.

(Clock ticks.)
Grandpa: Having weighed the evidence carefully I regret to announce that the council of the grandparents are forced to return a split judgement. Granny and Grandpa find for the bagsy, Granddad and Nana for the shotgun.
Mum: Do you need more time to deliberate?
Grandpa: I fear that will be of no real use. The grandparents are all firmly intrenched in their positions.
Harry: You've never even heard of shotgun.
Mum: Right, then we'll just have to go to full session.

(Club hitting a desk.)
Emily: Silence, please. I declare this full session of the Harrison family court open, Great-Aunt Emily presiding.
Daniel: Your Auntship, I am cousin Daniel I will be appearing for the bagsy. We shall clearly show Ann was not only the first to speak, she also finished speaking the word bagsy before Harry began the word shotgun, and the front seat is therefore hers.
Sandra: I am sister-in-law Sandra for the shotgun and we will conclusively demonstrate that bagsy is a transitive verb and thus meaningless until an object is specified. Whereas shotgun is widely understood to embody the phrase "I bagsy the front seat". Therefore Harry's claim was completed first and the seat is his.
Emily: Oh, yes, yes I'm sorry, but this is another one of those petty claims that are clogging up the system I take a very dim view of it. You realise I have the whole of who said what to who at Dennis' funeral to get through this session.
Sandra: With respect, your Auntship, I think when you hear the evidence you'll find this is an unusual case.
Emily: No, I - I think not. I'm invoking Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.
Daniel: Objection. Your Auntship, with the greatest of respect, E-tripple-M has been comprehensible discredited as an impartial system.
Emily: Objection overruled. (Clears throat.) Eenie, meenie, miney, moe, catch a -
Sandra and Daniel: OBJECTION!
Emily:  - by his toe. If he wriggles let him go. Eenie, meenie, miney ... moe.
Harry: Yes!
Emily: The court finds for the shotgun. Harry will ride in the front seat. The court would also like to append some remarks. Ann has grown remarkably, and Harry is the living image of his Granddad at that age. Court dismissed.



Interviewing a comedian

Often called the king of stand-up, Joe Holland is, for my money, the funniest man in Britain, so I'm surprised on arriving at his house at how normal it is. Just a house with doors and windows like any other house. It's not bright pink or inflatable, there's basically nothing that gives it away as the house of a comic genius. And when the man himself answers the doorbell, which has a normal chime, not a funny one, I'm in for a further shock, he's normally dressed in trousers and a shirt like a normal person would wear. In normal colours like blue. What's with this compulsive need to hide his comic identity? I resolve to find out. He speaks:
"Hi, I'm Joe."
He says in a normal voice.
"Did you have much trouble finding the place?"
This, quite frankly, I don't get at all. I wait for the devastating pay-off.
"Only some people have trouble finding the turning."
Is that it? Some people have trouble finding the turning? If that's supposed to be a joke, it's far from his usual standard. Funniest man in Britain, suddenly, I'm not so sure.
"Anyway, come inside."
He says normally and unfunnily. I can't believe the change in the man. When I've seen him before on stage or on television everything he says is carefully designed to be really funny, but off-stage he seems entirely humourless.
"Horrible weather isn't it?"
He says, and then I realise the truth of the situation. Joe Holland, the man of a thousand gags is a certifiable depressive. Endlessly trying to fill up the emptiness of his soul with a laughter of strangers whilst off-stage he wrestles with his personal black dog; the horrible, horrible weather.
"But they say it's gonna brighten up tomorrow."
Oh, manic depressive! A little scared I try to keep up with the roller coaster of his moods as now, on the upswing of his mania, he babbles like that becoming brightness he's been promised by some power he refers to only as they.
"Still, nice weather for ducks."
I back away a little scared. His fragile grip on reality has clearly broken down altogether, and some weird duck fixation is bubbling up to the surface. He must see the fear written in my face for he adds:
"I'm only joking."
Ah and I realise he's simply can't turn it off. The relentless gag machine unable to engage with anyone without firing duck jokes at them. A tragic figure who substitutes constant compulsive wise-cracking for any genuine human contact.
"Are you alright?"
Probably bullied at school. Or the class clown. Or both, but not neither.
"Only, you haven't said anything since you got here."
It's pathetic really the hunger for approval from his audience, whether it be the Hammersmith Apollo, or a prize nominated feature journalist, there's clearly nothing I could say that will satisfy his desperate need for validation. So I don't even try. I bestow a sad smile on this damaged husk of a human and depart. Leaving my photographer to get a picture of him standing in his garden pond holding a rubber chicken. Joe Holland, portrait of a psycho clown.



Famous anecdotes 2

Presenter: Famous anecdotes the way they really happened - Winston Churchill
Bessie Braddock: Mister Churchill, you are drunk!
Churchill: Yes, mam. I am drunk, but in the morning I will be ... hungover, and you will ... oh wait I forgot to say you're ugly.
Braddock: Mister Churchill!
Churchill: No, no, it's alright, it's for a thing. You're ugly, you see. And I am drunk, and also ugly, and in the morning I will still be ugly, and a little bit drunk, but youuuuu will no longer ... be there. Would you like a drink?
Braddock: No!
Churchill: You're lovely.
Braddock: Goodbye!
Churchill: Goodbye.



Take your belongings with you

This train is now approaching Micheldever. Micheldever, your next station stop. If you're alighting here, please ensure you have all your belongings with you when you leave the train. Do take all of your belongings, but do not take any of the belongings - which do not belong to you. To clarify, all belongings belonging to you are belongings you should not be leaving on the train upon your leaving of the train. But all belongings belonging to others should be left on the train when you leave the train, as these belongings still belong - on the train. Or simply put, when you are no longer on the train, your belongings seize to be belongings that belong on the train. If you have any belongings who belong on the train, are those belongings which belong to those on the train, and, of course, those belongings which belong -  to the train. Such as the seats and the little hammer for smashing windows. These belongings, whilst not belonging to those on the train, are the belongings of the train, and therefore belong - on the train. Micheldever, your next station stop, take your crap with you.



3D printer

Boss: Yeah okay, can I have everyone's attention for a moment. Thank you. Right, look, it's about the 3D printer.
(Employees groan.)
Boss: Now listen. The 3D bio printer represents a revolutionary tool in medical science, okay? We can already print prosthetic limbs, we're not far from actually being able to print replacement organs. It's a game changer. It's also, as you might imagine, incredibly expensive to use. So can you all please stop using it to print out bums?
(Employees moan.)
Lady: It's just a bit of fun, boss.
Boss: It's wasteful, do you know how much bio ink goes into a bum? Nearly a whole cartridge. And it's not fun anyway, it's creepy. The office is covered in bums.
(Employees cheers.)
Man: Yeah. To cheer it up
Boss: One bum might cheer it up, maybe. But the corridor to the break room now, it's completely lined with bums. Stop it, alright?
Man 2: Oh, come on, boss. It's got to be some perks?
Boss: No, I'm putting my foot down! No more bum printing unless it's for legitimate medical reasons, of which, incidentally, I can think of – none! Got it?
Employees: Yes, boss.
Boss: Thanks.
Lady 2: Er, boss?
Boss: Yeah?
Lady 2: Does that go for boobs too?
Boss: No, boobs are fine.



Famous anecdotes 3

Presenter: Famous anecdotes the way they really happened - Dorothy Parker
Man: Ah, ladies and gentlemen your attention please. I'm sorry to have to interrupt your party, but I thought you'd wanna know president Calvin Coolidge is dead.
Dorothy: How could they tell?
 Man: Well I mean he had a massive heart attack.
Dorothy: Yeah, but -
Man: I mean he's a former president I'm guessing he's got some pretty good doctors, they're not gonna make a mistake
Dorothy: Yeah, but listen, Coolidge, he was famously very quiet wasn't he? You know a kind of stiff kind of guy, so how could they tell? It was a joke.
Man: Oooooh. Okay
Dorothy: Forget it.
Man: Jesus, Dorothy a man just died.
Dorothy: I said forget it!



Bear insomnia

Bruno: S is for salmon. T is for trout. U is for … u... come back to u. V is … oh it's no good, I'm awake. I'm wide awake. Bloody hell. What time is it anyway? Oh, God, I've hardly been asleep at all. Maybe Ursula is still awake. She's quite still, but maybe she's just lying there, unable to sleep, wishing I was awake so we could talk. It's probably just worth, really quietly, checking. Ursula? Are you awake? (louder voice) Are you awake? Ursula?
Ursula: Noooooo.
Bruno: Oh, okay.
Ursula: What, I am now.
Bruno: Oh, sorry, did I wake you?
 Ursula: Yes. What time is it anyway?
Bruno: Half-past November.
Ursula: November? You woke me up in November? You're so selfish, Bruno. Some of us has got cubs to give birth to in March.
Bruno: I'm sorry, I thought you might not be asleep.
Ursula: Well I was. How long have you been awake?
Bruno: About a week.
Ursula: A week? For God's sake, Bruno. Remember last year, I was awake all January and I didn't wake you up.
Bruno: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I – just go back to sleep.
Ursula: I'm going to. Goodnight.
Bruno: Alright, fine. U is for … underwater fish. V is for very underwater fish, no it's useless. Try something else. Feeling my paws getting heavy. And that heaviness spreading up through my fur and into my hindquarters. Feeling that warm sleepy glow spreading over me like honey. Oh, I could just eat some honey. No, no, go to sleep. But maybe I'm hungry? Maybe that's why I can't sleep? Maybe if I just got up, quickly had some honey, I'll come back all full and tired and ready to sleep. Ya, yeah, so I've just need to ease out the cave.
Ursula: What are you doing?
Bruno: Oh, are you awake?
Ursula: No. What are you doing?
Bruno: I can't sleep.
Ursula: Well, whose fault is that? Of course you can't sleep, you didn't get up till May.
Bruno: I thought I might just really quickly get up, maybe find a bee's nest.
Ursula: No, no! You'll wake me up again when you come back.
Bruno: You could come with me.
Ursula: I've put on 300 pounds of fat to get through the winter. I'm not parading around the forest in it. Go to sleep!
Bruno: Yeah, yeah, just go to sleep. I have never been more awake in my whole life. Oh! So, maybe I could just push on through? I mean, I absolutely have to be gathering food for the new cubs in March, but then I could have a nap in April and I'd be really properly tired for next hibernation. Oh, or, or I could start gathering food now while I'm feeling so awake, get it all gathered and then have a lie-in for the whole spring. Yeah, I'll do that. I'll (yawning) get up now, and gather, all the cubs, together, and then we'll g- no, cubs aren't here, I'll get food, get their food, and find the cubs and then just …
Ursula: Okay, fine. I can't sleep either now, let's get some honey.
(Bruno snores.)
Ursula: Oh, you're kidding!



5th of November

Guy Fawkes: Then we are agreed. King James the heretic, the hated protestant aristocracy, and all the rotten machinery of parliament are to be exploded by our hands this all hallows day.
All: Aye!
Guy: Then rejoice, my friends, for mistake not that the names of Guy Fawkes and his trusted crew will live long down the valley of the years. And men, women and children of England will forever remember the first of November.
Percy: Oh, is that the Monday?
Guy: Yes.
Percy: Monday's a bit tricky for me.
Guy: Tricky? How so tricky?
Percy: Well, my brother-in-law's moving house and I promised I'd help.
Guy: Well, I venture the removal of King James takes precedence over the removal of your brother-in-law.
(Crowd laughs.)
Percy: Yeah, yes, very good, no but seriously, he helped us when we moved so we'd look really bad.
Guy: We're ridding the land of our protestant oppressors.
Percy: Right, well yes, but do we have to do it on that day, I mean, you know, the protestant oppressors, I mean, they're every day, I mean that's the whole point, isn't it?
Guy: Very well, we'll do it on the second.
Percy: Oh cheers, Guy.
Wright: Er, second's not great for me, actually.
Guy: Why not?
Wright: I've got a thing.
Guy: Is it golf?
Wright: Erm ...
Guy: Are you asking me to postpone the dawn of a second age of catholic enlightenment for you to play golf?
Wright: It's no use snapping, Guido, you know very well I told you when I joined this conspiracy I couldn't do any Tuesday there was a tournament match.
Guy: Fine, the third!
Wintour: No ...
Guy: What? Why not?
Wintour: I'm taking Sarah on a mini-break.
Guy: Ohh... a mini-break?
Wintour: Well, she's been giving me a hard time 'cause I'm always out conspiring with you guys I promised I- (make it up to her)
Guy: Is it on the wall planner?
Wintour: No, it's not.
Guy: Guys! This is exactly why I put the wall planner up in our conspiratorial lair. I can't plan around people's holidays if I don't know about them. When do you get back?
Wintour: Fourth.
Guy: Alright! The fourth then.
Wintour: Great.
Wright: Good for me.
Percy: Yep.
Catesby: Erm...
Guy: What? What have you got on the fourth?
Catesby: Nothing, but it's my birthday.
Guy: (Sighs) Well, so?
Catesby: So, I don't want to be crawling around a dungeon on my birthday.
Guy: But you will be liberating your country and your church. What better way to celebrate?
Catesby: Oh, yes, especially if we get caught.  Hung, drawn and quartered on my birthday. Very celebratory.
Wright: Nah, you never do anything for your birthday anyway, Catesby.
Catesby: Maybe not, but there's a difference between choosing to celebrate quietly at home and being forced to assassinate a monarch and legislative assembly. It's just not very birthdayish
Guy: Very well, the fifth!
Percy: No, you know that's my fishing trip, don't you? I mean, that's been on the wall planner since May.
Guy: Yes, but don't meet until nine.
Percy: Oh, well. So long's it's an evening thing.
Guy: Yes, I can safely say that blowing up the Houses of Parliament will be an evening thing.
Percy: Well that's great then.
Wright: Yeah.
Catesby: Actually better for me.
Guy: Good. We are all decided then. King James' fate is sealed. He dies on the fourth of November.
Percy: Didn't we just say the fifth?
Guy: Ah, damn. We're going to have to come up with a way of remembering that.

*Apart from Fawkes and Catesby, none of the characters have confirmed names in this sketch. I simply used names from the Gunpowder plot to keep them separated.



America

Customs officer: Anything to declare, sir?
Oscar Wilde: I have nothing to declare but my genius.
Customs officer: Oooookay, will you come along with me, sir?
Wilde: Is that really necessary? You fellas go ahead, I'll be with you in a few minutes.
Customs officer: No, sir, you're gonna be a lot longer than that.
Wilde: Oh...



Ghost story: detectives

Finnemore: Well! Since you ask me for a tale of mean streets and hard boiled dames, there is one curious tale you may find of interest. It all began one rainy Chicago night in black and white during a period that I was, for tax reasons, an American. I was in my office, a downtown dive on the Upper East North South Side, above an abattoir and below another abattoir. It wasn't much, but it was the best I could afford. Business was slower than a Buick with an elephant in its trunk. Or indeed an elephant with a Buick in its trunk. I was conducting a little business meeting with the only partner I'd ever need; Jack Daniels, when there was a knock at the door. I swept Jack back into my desk drawer. In came the kind of dame I thought they couldn't get the material to make anymore. She had legs that went from her waist all the way to her knees, and didn't stop there. She had hair that covered her head like a big hairy hat, but not in a good way. And she had a figure that I … naturally as a gentleman I wouldn't dream of noticing. I was ... it took while to get used to being an American.
The dame: "Are you Finnemore PI?"
Finnemore: She purred in a voice like honey being poured over Marilyn Monroe. "Well if I'm not that's a mighty neat graffiti on my window."
The dame: "Oh, and are you a limey jackass?"
Finnemore: "What? Oh, oh, oh no, that actually is aawww, oh it's not even that neat." Ah, the dame lit a cigarette. I didn't really want one, but it was kind gesture, so I took it. "Thanks."
The dame: "I was told you're some kind of detective."
Finnemore: "Well that all depends, sister."
The dame: "Yeah? On what?"
Finnemore: "No, you're quite right it doesn't really depend. I am a detective." She lit another cigarette. I'd barely started the first one but one never refuses a lady. "Thanks."
The dame: "Yeah, well I got a job for you."
Finnemore: "What is it?"
The dame: "Hm, you ask a lot of questions, don't you?"
Finnemore: "Well, to be fair, that question seems like kind of a bare minimum."
The dame: "Ah, just knock it off, will you. (swooping sound) Thanks."
Finnemore: "Oh, so it actually was a big hairy hat."
The dame: "Now listen up. You go to the corner of 42nd street and route 66. there's a bar there called MacGuffin's. Ring 16 times. 4 long, 4 short, 4 medium length and 4... freestyle. And ask the guy who answers about the alabaster tortoise. Oh and one more thing." (Glass breaking)
Finnemore: But at that moment, the window behind me shattered. Which was annoying but at least then I wouldn't have to clean the graffiti off it. And something thumped onto the rug. It was a gun, tied to it was a note. Which read: 'lay off, Finnemore or next time it'll be the bullets.' Just then there was a tap on what remained of the window.
The foreigner: "Hm good evening, I wondered if I could trouble you for my gun back."
Finnemore: The speaker was a funny-looking foreigner with a strange accent which is rich coming from me. "Did you throw that?" I asked him.
The foreigner: "Certainly. It is possible I may not have fully thought through my scheme. To be frank with you, mister Finnemore even as the gun left my hand I thought to myself: 'oh hang on though'. But by then it was too late."
Finnemore: "What's the big idea anyway, is this some kind of a threat?"
The foreigner: "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, yes, no, no, no, no, a bit, no, no. Let us just call it advice from a friend."
Finnemore: "Listen buddy. The only friend I need lives in a bottle in the top drawer of my desk."
The foreigner: "Really?"
Finnemore: "You better believe it."
The foreigner: "Can I see?"
Finnemore: "Why not."
The foreigner: "Oh, I see. You are saying whisky is your friend."
Finnemore: "What? Oh no, wrong bottle."
The foreigner: "Hm?"
Jack Daniels: "Aww leave me alone I'm sleepin'. Who the hell are you? I'll tear you apart, you punk."
The foreigner: "My, my."
Finnemore: "Yeah, this is my partner, Jack Daniels. No relations."
Jack Daniels: "Did you break our window? I'll skin you alive you big lummox!"
Finnemore: Warning or not, that night I sat out to earn my fee. I must have walked the length of Route 66 a dozen times but there was no sign of a bar called MacGuffin's. Then it hit me. It was all a set-up. I'd been played like a two-dollar banjo and I did not like the noise I made. I hailed a cab. (screeching tires). "Take me to the Upper East North South Side and it's five bucks in it for you if you don't turn out to be the foreign guy with a chloroform bottle."
The foreigner: "Ah, that's a pity, I could have used five bucks."
Finnemore: When I woke I was tied to a chair in my own office. With the three of them were watching me. The foreigner, the dame, and a guy I'd never seen before who looked like he bought his suits by the acre.
The boss: "I do apologize for this incivility, mister Finnemore,"
Finnemore: He purred.
The boss: "But you see, we really couldn't have you sniffing around MacGuffin's any longer."
Finnemore: "Right, but wasn't it the dame who sent me to MacGuffin's in the first place?"
The dame: "You bet I did, sweet-cheeks. And you swallowed it whole."
Finnemore: "Ok, and then you warned me off going."
The foreigner: "Yes, but we knew that would only make you even more determined to go."
Finnemore: "But I-I thought you just said you didn't want me sniffing around there."
The boss: "Mister Finnemore, you disappoint me. I thought you'd have realised by now MacGuffin's never existed."
Finnemore: "Then what's the problem with me sniffing 'round it?"
The boss: "Well, er, hang on, okay you've confused me. Let's start again. So the dame told you to go to the bar."
The dame: "But I was working for you."
The boss: "Yes, I know. So wait a minute, have any of us actually committed a crime?"
The foreigner: "Not me boss."
The dame: "I thought you were doing it."
The boss: "Oh for goodness gracious. I keep telling you we do the crime first and the cover-up after. It just doesn't work this way around."
The foreigner: "Sorry boss."
The dame: "Oh, we could kill him, though."
The boss: "Oh yes, great. We kill him and hide the body at MacGuffin's."
The foreigner: "No boss, remember MacGuffin's doesn't really -"
The boss: "Oh look can't you just stop thinking about it so hard and just enjoy it. Ok, Finnemore. Time to say your prayers." (sound of a gun cocking)
Finnemore: I had to think fast. My mind raced like a Buick with no elephants in it at all. "Well I guess we all have to go some time. But can't a condemned man at least have a final drink?"
The boss: "Very well, if you got any."
Finnemore: "Try the top drawer of my desk. And – can you take it out without really looking at it?"
The boss: "That seems a reasonable request."
Finnemore: "Can you unscrew it for me? I'm a little tied up here. Keep not looking at it."
The boss: "Of course."
Finnemore: "Thanks. You're a pal. Oh, and one last thing, mister."
The boss: "Yeah?"
Finnemore: "Say hello to my little friend."
Jack Daniels: "YAAAAA!"
The boss: "AAAH get off my face. Oh he's pulling my eyes out."
Finnemore: "Good night."
(more screaming)



Credits

John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme was written by and starred John Finnemore. With Margaret Cabourn-Smith, Simon Kane, Lawry Lewin and Carrie Quinlan. The producer was Ed Morrish.
And if you're listening to this as the radio waves from earth finally reach a distant galaxy, then greetings, aliens, we come in peace. Except Margaret.



Transcribed by Brynhild
Any mistakes, please let me know in the comments and I'll edit it!
Tags: jfsp, john finnemore, john finnemore's souvenir programme, transcript
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