Steptoe & Son

Series Two: Episode Two 'Body Beautiful'

Written by Christopher Walkey (c) 2008

 

Scene 1: Harold standing in front of living room mirror, posing with shirt off, Albert

enters.

ALBERT: What do you think you’re doing?

HAROLD: I'm just studying my figure.

ALBERT: You've got nothing to study.

HAROLD: I'm considering enhancing my body with some art work. Give it some

decoration as such.

ALBERT: Decoration? What? You thinking of papering yourself with wallpaper?

HAROLD: A tattoo. I was thinking either some Hindu writing or maybe having a figure of

some kind of beautiful lady on my arm.

ALBERT: Yeah, only way you'll get a woman to be on your arm I suppose.

HAROLD: Pointless talking to you, why I bother I ask myself? You never have anything

supportive to say. I want, even if you don’t, to start the new year off with a

‘new me’.

ALBERT: What you want to go having tattoos at your time of life for?

HAROLD: Well, why not. Most of the super stars have em, Sean Connery, Amy

Winehouse and er, er David Beckham.

ALBERT: That's why you want it done! That show you watched last night on the box all

about David Beckham and his fans. You saw all those young girls screaming

out for him and you think you can demand the same attention.

HAROLD: That's got nothing to do with it.

ALBERT: Yes it has, you want to become the David Beckham of the totting industry. He

he, you'd have a job impersonating Ken Dodd.

HAROLD: I don't care what you think, knew you wouldn't see it positively.

ALBERT: You're just like them lot on the TV, all trying to look younger and lose excess

pounds round their guts and backsides. Best off staying as you were made

rather than trying to turn the clock back on yourself.

HAROLD: You sure you wouldn't approve of plastic surgery? Or add a few pounds to

your figure? Pull back your facial skin to get rid of them wrinkles? I mean dad,

they could redesign you like they have Bruce Fortsythe.

ALBERT: I don't need a false Barnet!!

HAROLD: It's all readily available today. Face lifts, tummy tucks, liposuction. For what,

five thousand quid you could look twenty years younger. You can even get it

done on the National Health, if you don't mind waiting ten years that is.

ALBERT: What do I want to go looking younger for?

HAROLD: Well, you know.... you could get recognised as.... noticed by....

ALBERT: Birds?!

HAROLD: Well, that's one point of having it done I suppose.

ALBERT: Birds? You reckon birds fall for it?

HAROLD: Madonna is fifty, Cher is sixty and you always go on about Joan Collins and

she's nearly a fossil.

ALBERT: Five thousand quid you say?

HAROLD: Well, depends who you go to, a bloke down in Shephards Bush is offering

'Tummy tuck plus a face lift free offer', five thousand quid only.

ALBERT: Where you going to get that sort of money from? You're not re-mortgaging

this place mate, not with the market on the knife edge as it is.

HAROLD: Well, I've decided. It's either a new car or some works on me body.

ALBERT: You're mad.

HAROLD: Oh, I deserve it dad. Believe you me. It's been eight years since I've treated

myself, and that was when I paid for you to go and visit your sister in Stoke

just so that I could have five days here on my own.

ALBERT: (Picking up plastic surgery brochure from Harold’s desk and studies images

within)

Oh my Godness, there's no one in this magazine under seventy. Look at

those! She must have had them filled with hot air the way they're pointing

upwards.

HAROLD: I'm forward planning dad. I don't want to get to fifty and end up looking like Sid

James.

ALBERT: Nah, it won't work. You are what you are, black or white, fat or thin.

HAROLD: (Continues to study his figure in the mirror)

Definately a tattoo I think.

Scene 2: Sitting at the table, both in dressing gowns, Albert about to open his

Christmas Present.

ALBERT: What’s this?

HAROLD: A present.

ALBERT: I can see that, but why is it gift wrapped in Boots the Chemist wrapping?

HAROLD: It’s a nail buffer kit. I got it free with the vouchers from buying my manicure

and pedicure kits.

ALBERT: Oh stop it Harold, next you’ll be afraid to go on the round incase you break

one of your finger nails.

HAROLD: (Opening present) I can guess what this is, hankies and some Y fronts hey?

ALBERT: I got it from the Burtons shop in town.

HAROLD: Oh, after shave. (Reading label) Brut, for real men. That’s nice, thank you.

ALBERT: Oh, there’s another one for you.

HAROLD: Two presents? You’ve never bought me more than one present before.

ALBERT: Yeah well, might as well spend what credit we have on the Barclaycard hey.

(Harold commences to open another present)

HAROLD: I feel guilty now, I only got you the nail set.

ALBERT: That’s ok, I enjoy buying presents and seeing the delight in your face.

HAROLD: (Stares at Albert with an unsure look, finishes unwrapping present) A years

subscription to Men and Motors magazine.

ALBERT: Oh, I got this present also.

HAROLD: You sure you weren’t buying this lot with my credit card?

ALBERT: Nah, it was mine, besides I reported it stolen straight after I bought that lot, no

doubt get it all refunded anyway.

HAROLD: (Unwraps present) What’s this?

ALBERT: Do you like it?

HAROLD: You trying to say something? You saying I might be turning, you know, gay

and you’re trying to convert me back to normal?

ALBERT: Do you think you’ll read it?

HAROLD: (Studies book and reads book cover) ‘High flying women like a bit of rough’ by

Norris Jenkins. ‘The guide all men shouldn’t be without’.

ALBERT: I mean, that’s what you are, a bit of rough. You should have written the book

yourself hey?

HAROLD: Listen father, I’m still going for the face jobs. This little lot doesn’t persuade

me otherwise.

ALBERT: A manicure and pedicure set. You’ll be coming from the round soon looking

like Dame Edna Evridge. The lads from the Skinners Arms will start talking.

HAROLD: I don’t care what they think. And besides, one of Charlie Miller’s sons is going

out with the barmaid and he’s twice her age and that’s thanks to some facial

work he had done privately. She thinks he’s thirty five and he’s knocking on
fifty.

ALBERT: How do you know he’s going out with her, they’re all talk that Miller mob.

HAROLD: I saw them out together nicking car hub caps on the Henfield estate. Plus he’s

had her name tattoed on his arm.

ALBERT: (Snarls) I don’t know what your generation is coming to. You didn’t see us

men in the trenches putting on foundation and false eye lashes as we

prepared to go over the top. You’d have been shot by one of your own let

alone a German.

HAROLD: All the stars have had it done, don’t see why I shouldn’t. Besides, look at this

lot (Shows Albert advertising page in his plastic surgery brochure), all these

young ladies from Russia and Malaysia looking for Western European men of

twenty to thirty five, age no concern.

ALBERT: What you talking about, age no concern?

HAROLD: Exactly that. As long as you look no older than thirty five, you could be

seventy and they’d still come running. That’s what I’m saying, today, it’s all

about how you look.

ALBERT: (Looking at brochure) Here, she’s not bad. Malaysian lady of twenty two,

petite and caring. Will keep you tidy at day and warm at night.

HAROLD: Yeah, she happens to be the one that caught my eye too.

ALBERT: Something about these Malaysian birds, I’m told they stop at nothing to

please you.

HAROLD: She’s looking for someone of thirty dad, you’d be hard pushed to find any

plastic surgeon on this planet that’s going to knock thirty years off your

ugly little mug. You just concentrate on these lot here looking for men of fifty

five plus.

ALBERT: Here, do you think these women fall for it then? It would be nice to have a bit

of crumpet in the house again wouldn’t it? I mean I don’t mind asian crumpet.

HAROLD: I told you dad, they’re looking for blokes of younger years. Oh, how can I put

this? You see, if you invite one of these birds over, they’re going to expect

defined cheek bones and toned muscles. Not, what can I say.... they’re going

to want more than a dried prune.

ALBERT: Thank you very much.

If you go on about this plastic surgery so much I’m sure there’s a remedy for

everything, even for blokes of sixty six.

 

Scene 3: At the private hospital ward, Harold and Albert in the waiting room.

 

ALBERT: So, you're going in for it then ?

HAROLD: Errrr, yes. I've opted for the full facel lift and lip filler. The consultant has

promised to lose me eight years. Just think, thirty three again father. You’ll

hardly recognize me.

Oh and these days it's done so quickly, little discreet methods they have, no

scars you know. They say three days in all, you know, from the knife till you're

out pulling the birds.

ALBERT: Five thousand quid and all for a bit of crumpet.

HAROLD: That’s cheap dad. I mean, you could have to take a bird out five times before

she’ll agree to a bit of, you know, bit of payback. That could be five meals out

plus you’d have to impress her with gifts and gawd knows how much a bird

costs if you find one just before Christmas. Nah, this is sound business

common sense. An investment of five grand to save many wasted

investments. Besides, I can't stand buying Christmas presents for birds.

ALBERT: Sex Mad.

HAROLD: You didn’t say no when you saw those asian girls in the magazine hey? I

know what I’m doing. They've accepted my deposit, I just need to see Dr Kelly

before they redesign me.

DR KELLY: Mr Steptoe?

HAROLD: Yes doctor?

DR KELLY: I’m afraid Mr Steptoe that we won’t be able to continue with your surgery.

HAROLD: Pardon?

DR KELLY: You see Mr Steptoe, you have a rare blood group of AB negative and we, as

plastic surgeons, are not allowed to store this blood for simple cosmetic

purposes. The hospitals are given sole rights to it.

HAROLD: No, you see. I mean….. couldn’t I change blood group?

DR KELLY: I’m sorry sir.

HAROLD: Isn’t there any way?

DR KELLY: I did know a chap who got a free NHS plastic surgery appointment after he

suffered acid burns to his face. Came out quite well actually considering.

HAROLD: But, I’ve booked her flight over.

ALBERT: Who’s?

HAROLD: Chin Lee Sam. That bird from the brochure. She’s expecting a thirty year old

bloke to greet her at the door.

ALBERT: Well, unless you’re willing to stick your face in a barrel full of acid, you’re

going to have to cancel her flight.

HAROLD: This is ludricus, you never mentioned this before doctor?

DR KELLY: It’s in the terms and conditions sir. As is no refund upon cancellation on either

party’s behalf.

HAROLD: What? I don’t get my deposit back either?

DR KELLY: I’m sorry sir.

(Calls out to old man sitting in corner) Mr Fred Thompson, your face lift

surgeon is now ready for you.

ALBERT: (Albert notes the old age of Fred who departs the room)

HAROLD: Come on father, lets leave this place.

(They both leave the surgery, though Albert stops at the doors)

ALBERT: You stay here, I’m going to give that doctor a piece of my mind.

HAROLD: I’m going back home. Chin Lee Sam will be here in a few days, can't let her

see me as I am.

ALBERT: I’ll catch you up.

(Calls out to Doctor Kelly)

I say, my good fellow, could you spare me a minute?

Scene 4: Following day, Harold returning home from his days work, see's a note on the

front room table.

HAROLD: (Opening envelope and reads letter)

"Dear Harold, decided to take a few days away whilst you and that Chinky

get to know each other. Dinner in the freezer, buy one get one free promotion

at the Co-Op on madras curries, I bought six of 'em for ya."

The lazy sod.

"See you soon, by the way I have locked my bedroom door. Don't want you

wearing the springs down whilst I'm gone."

Wearing the springs down, sod all chance of that. Chin Lee will take

one look at me and she'll be booking her flight back home.

Bloody well his fault again all this, making me an AB negative blood group.

Couldn't be normal like everyone else could I? Would be getting ready to start

a new life with Chin Lee looking 33 again... instead of here, contemplating a

weeks frozen chicken madras.

He's probably gawn on some bleeding booze up with a group of old fools from

the Skinners arms. All out trying to pull some old granny with their nifty

card playing skills.

Scene 5: Day later. Harold taking out from Microwave a steaming hot curry.

HAROLD: Gawd, smells as bad as it looks.

(Leaves kitchen and heads for front room, ring on door bell)

(Opening door to two men with Albert in a wheelchair with bandages round

his face) Oh my gawd, what's happened to you?

MAN: Just dropping him off sir, he should be fine in a day or two. (Noting plate of

curry in Harold's hand) Wouldn't recommend curry though sir, no alchohol

either for old Albert here.

ALBERT: (Mumbles under facial bandages)

MAN: (To Albert) Just one more day Mr Steptoe, then you can have your... your

brown ale... He's a funny old bugger hey?

MAN II: Been a joy to look after, (To Harold) you should be proud of him.

ALBERT: (Mumbles again)

HAROLD: What has happened to you? You look awful.

MAN: That will all change sir, it all comes off tomorrow. Cheerio all.

HAROLD: (Wheeling Albert back inside and closing front door)

Where have you been, thought you were on a booze up somewhere? You

never got in to a fight did you? I mean, at your age... It's your own fault.

ALBERT: (Mumbles and makes a writing with a pen action)

HAROLD: Can't you talk?

ALBERT: (Mumbles)

HAROLD: (Gets pen and paper from desk) Here. You've not lost your choppers

somewhere have you?

ALBERT: (Writes: Get me a straw and bottle of brown ale)

HAROLD: (Writes: The man said no alchohol)

ALBERT: (Writes: I need it for the pain)

HAROLD: (Writes: Ok, sorry dad)

ALBERT: (Writes: I'm not deaf)

HAROLD: (Writes: What?)

ALBERT: (Snatches pen away from Harold)

HAROLD: Oh, of course, it's you that can't talk hey? I'll get the straw.

(Returns with bottle of brown ale and straw)

So, what happened dad? You didn't get duffed up did you losing at

poker?

ALBERT: (Writes: I'm tired, I need rest for my face to heal.)

HAROLD: Oh of course dad, I'll get a hot water bottle for you hey, get a brew on the go

too.

ALBERT: (Pauses, then nods)

HAROLD: You have a good night sleep and we will talk about it all in the morning hey. I

mean, if it's that Miller mob again done all this to you, I'll go down and sort 'em

out.

ALBERT: (Shakes head)

HAROLD: Well... maybe have a word in their ear like, I mean, you're an old age

pensioner, they've got no right inflicting this on you, leaving you all bandaged

up.

ALBERT: (Kicks out at Harold and points to upstairs)

HAROLD: Ok dad, let's get you upstairs, or should I say with all that bandaging...

Mummy?

ALBERT: (Sticks fingers up at Harold)

HAROLD: You've got to say it's an improvement isn't it? That ugly old face of yours

now hidden away from the public, bit of luck actually.

(Lifts Albert out of wheelchair and proceeds to take him upstairs)

That Chin Lee is coming round tomorrow evening to see me, it's bad enough

that I haven't decreased my age by ten years, I don't want her seeing you and

assuming that's what I'll be like in twenty years. Scar her for life that could.

Besides, I should get away with a few years off what I am with some makeup.

I've bought some of that Nivea gear that the old James Bond bloke advertises

on TV, old Pierce Brosson thingy fella, I mean he's getting on in years and he

needs a lift to pull the crumpet, I'm just using a bit of touch up like, oh and it

does the trick father, I'll show you later.

(Lays Albert on the bed)

Here, besides, you might want some after you unwrap yourself hey... no doubt

you've a black eye or two under there, don't want you moping round here like

an anorexic panda do we?

ALBERT: (Mumbles loudly and throws pillow towards Harold)

HAROLD: I'll go get your warm cuppa and straw.

Scene 6: Harold checking himself in the mirror, applies a bit of foundation to his brow.

HAROLD: Well, she's got to expect some wrinkles.

(Combs his hair back)

That 'Just for Men' does wonders... strange init... how hair up here goes grey

where as hair down here...

(Interrupted by knock at front door)

It must be Chin Lee.

(Final check in mirror)

(With smooth accent) Shaken, not stirred.....

(Another knock on door, Harold goes towards front door about to answer and

turns back to shout upstairs)

Don't forget, you only come down if you're invited.... I don't want you scaring

her!

(Opens front door)

Chin Lee?

CHIN LEE: Family Steptoe.

HAROLD: Yes, family Steptoe here.

CHIN LEE: I here for your son. He know I coming.

HAROLD: For Harold?

CHIN LEE: Is cold outside. No good British weather.

HAROLD: Oh, do excuse me.... please, come in.

CHIN LEE: I travel long way. I happy to be at London.

HAROLD: Oh it's a wonderful place... I'll show you all the sights.

CHIN LEE: Kind man. Harold?

HAROLD: Yes.

CHIN LEE: Where Harold, he awaiting me? I waiting very much for him. He old man

looking very young.

HAROLD: I'm young man looking very.... very mature for age.

CHIN LEE: You nice man, proud father no? Harold is...

(Notes figure coming down stairs)

....Ah, is Harold for Chin Lee? Chin Lee will make Harold happy man.

ALBERT: Good evening Harold, whom would your guest be tonight?

(Albert comes in to view wearing upper class dressing gown and very evident

drastic plastic surgery including filled lips and wrinkle free face)

(To Chin Lee) One is a very attractive lady.

HAROLD: Gawd blimey riley... what on earth's happened to you?

CHIN LEE: You are mature man looking very young no?

HAROLD: He's a dirty old git who's no doubt stuck his face back with a load of sellotape

and taken on immitating Frank Bruno with his lips.

ALBERT: I've had treatment my man.

HAROLD: And where the bleeding hell you get that lot done.

ALBERT: Your cancellation, I went in last Tuesday.

HAROLD: Yeah, but they said I was AB negative.

ALBERT: Yeah, same as your mother. I remember when she used to donate blood at

the local GP, she always got Earl Grey and Custard Creams when she went

in. If it wasn't for her donations during the war nearly half the local homeguard

would have died.

HAROLD: So you took my place and had the treatment instead of me.

CHIN LEE: (To Harold) He attractive man your son, no?

HAROLD: He's not the son Chin Lee, he's just had the treatment instead that's all. It's

me with the years in junior... ority.

ALBERT: Would you like a drink Chin Lee, I don't suppose you've been asked?

CHIN LEE: Very much, thank you.

ALBERT: (To Harold) Oi, get the glasses would you.

HAROLD: You get 'em. (Notes loose pull cord of Albert's dressing gown) I stuck the

kettle on a minute ago in the kitchen, should be boiling now.

ALBERT: (To Chin Lee) Excuse me my dear.

(Turns and starts to leave front room as Harold steps on the loose cord which

pulls off Albert's dressing gown to leave him standing there with just boxer

shorts and socks baring a very skinny figure)

HAROLD: Opps, silly me.

(Startled look by both Chin Lee and Albert, Harold smirking)

Scene 7: Harold and Albert sat at table in front room.

HAROLD: Well, what a stupid thing for you to do.

ALBERT: She didn't have to know what lied beneath did she? That was your bleeding

fault, stepping on my cord.

HAROLD: She would have found out sooner or later.

Me and Chin Lee could have been touring the West End if hadn't been for my

blood. Said she thought I looked too old, but firm and you looked like a

deflated spring chicken.

ALBERT: Cheeky cow.

HAROLD: Amazing isn't it? The best chance we have of pulling an eastern bird is

together. My body and your plastic works.

ALBERT: Nah... it's not worth it. I'll stick to English birds.... have more meat on 'em.

HAROLD: Funny, I never thought they watched Coronation Street out in Malaysia

though.

ALBERT: What you talking about?

HAROLD: Chin Lee, saying that you reminded her of that Ivy Tilsly actress, Lyn Perry,

who got the sack from the Street for having secret plastic surgery. An old dirty

thing with inflated lips she called her.

ALBERT: Yeah, I remember her, always on the booze wasn't she?

HAROLD: Have a lot in common then haven't you, hey?

ALBERT: Saying that, it's gone half seven, double episode tonight. I wonder if Gail Plat

is outta hospital yet?

HAROLD: (Turns TV on with remote control) Let's just hope her old mother-in-law

doesn't make a guest appearance hey father?

 

The End.