{Doctor’s surgery, Doctor sitting behind a desk}
{Enter Nolan.}
NOLAN: Morning.
DOC: Morning.
NOLAN: I’m looking for a one bedroom flat, preferably in a quiet area, and not too pricey please.
DOC: This is a doctor’s surgery Mr Glassfinder.
NOLAN: Yes, and I’d like to buy a flat please.
DOC: {holds head in his hands} Do we have to have this discussion every time you come for a check up?
NOLAN: Yes we do. Now, a one bedroom flat please, carpet carpet carpet table.
DOC: Very well. {gets out a notebook} Would you be wanting this flat to have a roof?
NOLAN: Don’t be ridiculous man, I’m a respectable city gent.
DOC: Okay, so, one bedroom flat, quiet area, not too pricey, no roof.
NOLAN: Correct.
DOC: Excuse me {presses a button on his coat} Mrs. Wendover, would you come in here please?
{Both wait patiently.}
{Nolan drums his fingers on the desk.}
NOLAN: Is she coming or what?
DOC: I doubt it, I don’t have an intercom in my coat.
NOLAN: Right.
DOC: {presses a button on the intercom on his desk} Mrs. Snaggleberry, would you come in here please?
{Both wait patiently.}
{Nolan drums his fingers on the desk.}
NOLAN: Well? Is she coming or what?
DOC: I doubt it, that intercom doesn’t work.
NOLAN: Right.
DOC: {lifts a phone, presses a button on it} Mrs. Hydroponicinvestigation, would you come in here please?
NOLAN: I suppose you’re going to tell me the phone doesn’t work now?
DOC: No, no, the phone works perfectly well.
{Both wait patiently.}
{Nolan drums his fingers on the desk.}
NOLAN: Tch. Look, is Mrs Hydroponicinvestigation coming or what?
DOC: No, I don’t have a secretary called Mrs Hyrdoponicinvestigation.
NOLAN: Living end! Living end! What is she called then?
DOC: Mrs. Lambswooooool.
NOLAN: No she’s not! You made that up!
DOC: Yes I did… and?
NOLAN: Living end! Look, you’re meant to be the straight man.
DOC: Well I’m tired of being the straight man, can’t I be the curvy one now and again?
NOLAN: No you can’t! Treacherous entourage!
{That wasn’t treacherous entourage! Not nearly!}
NOLAN: Alright, alright. Look, I just need a check up.
DOC: Hmmm {consults a file} I’ve got one in Highgate for three hundred – it is on the fourth floor though.
NOLAN: I can’t afford three hundred!
DOC: Hmmm {consults the same file} I’ve got one in Highgate for four hundred – it is on the fourth floor though.
NOLAN: That’s the same flat!
DOC: Yes it is… and?
NOLAN: {blusters} Alright, alright, I’ll buy it, but only to save you the embarrassment!
DOC: Okay, fair enough. That’ll be five hundred then, you paying cash?
NOLAN: Now surely that’s treacherous entourage?
{You just haven’t grasped this at all, have you? I’d say it was nearer the hairy limit, but certainly not the absolute.}
NOLAN: Leave me alone, Tarquin, I’ve had a hard day.
{Enter Frank The Elephant}
FRANK: Ey up.
{An audience randomly cheers.}
NOLAN: I’ve told you before, Frank, can you leave your audience at home?
{Frank’s random audience boos.}
NOLAN: Shut up!
{Frank’s random audience laughs.}
NOLAN: Er…
{Frank’s random audience cheers, applauds, then leaves quietly.}
NOLAN: Thank-you. What d’you want Frank?
FRANK: It’s Balvin, he wants his tea.
NOLAN: Tch, the lazy article can get it himself, carpet carpet carpet table.
FRANK: Erm…
NOLAN: What?
FRANK: Balvin said, if you said that, to say that he was fully capable of getting his own tea, but that you would get it for him. He also said, if you said ‘He’s got legs hasn’t he?’, to say that yes, he has legs and is fully capable of using them, but would rather not.
NOLAN: Is that all?
FRANK: Erm, no, if you’ve time, I’ve got a whole book full of ripostes to all of your possible objections to making Balvin’s tea.
NOLAN: Oh really? All of my possible objections?
FRANK: It would appear so {leafs through a huge tome}.
NOLAN: Right. Tell him I won’t make his tea because I’ve just passed on, having been run over by a bus {smug}.
FRANK: Ahem {reading from the tome}, ‘Death by vehicular accident, whether of your own fault or ney is of no excuse, as I have personally witnessed you making an omelette for your mother after being run over in the past.’
NOLAN: {slightly less smug} Alright, alright. How about – I won’t make his tea because I have a pressing engagement with a beautiful woman.
FRANK: {gives Nolan a sideways look} Nolan, he’s not stupid.
NOLAN: Well, has he got a riposte?
FRANK: Yes he has, are you sure you want to hear it?
NOLAN: Probably not, no. Erm, how about, I’ve joined the F…
FRANK: {reading} ‘If he claims to have joined the Foreign Legion again, wave the dismissal papers in his face once more’ {produces a piece of paper and slaps Nolan in the face with it}.
NOLAN: Tch, right. {glances at the tome} Listen, how long did it take him to write this?
FRANK: Oh years – I believe he started shortly after he met you.
NOLAN: Hang on – didn’t I kill you?
FRANK: {affronted} That’s a rather personal question!
NOLAN: Yes, I killed you, for under reporting my gross income.
FRANK: Look, Nolan, you clearly didn’t.
NOLAN: Yes, I did. Even though it was actually Blaxploitation Man who did it.
FRANK: Nolan, I really don’t know what you’re talking about here.
DOC: Excuse me.
NOLAN: What do you want?
DOC: We’re in the middle of an appointment, I have other patients waiting!
NOLAN: Well I’m in the middle of talking to Frank.
{this is getting tedious, I’m stopping this now}
{fin}