Steptoe & Son

Scene 1: (Harold sitting on sofa in living room)

ALBERT: (Enters front room with shopping bags, dumps them on table)

Bleeding local supermarket stuck it's prices up again. I remember when

baked beans were 2p a can, trying to con us out of 18p a can now.

HAROLD: Is that your polite way of saying it's beans on toast again father?

ALBERT: Eh?

HAROLD: Well ever since you got hooked on doing competitions we've had the same

breakfast and dinner menu each week now for ages. I mean why can't it be

the smoked salmon and Dom Perignon Champagne offering prizes to a

fortnights break on the Costa Blanca instead of own brand fizzy cola and

tinned sardines

ALBERT: It's value for money, you by a tin of say...

(Delves into shopping bag and pulls out a tin)

Del Monte prunes and you could end up winning a brand new 40 inch

plasma telly.

HAROLD: Oh gawd, not prunes again. I've been stuck out in that bog each night for

way over average duration father. I've read two books sat out there over the

past week.

Besides, you've won nothing since you started this crazy idea of something

for nothing. It doesn't work. I mean just think of the amount of hard up people

entering, all with the same mindless notion of winning a telly.

ALBERT: It ain't just tellies, there's...

(Delves into bag again and starts pulling out items one by one)

A years supply of dog food.

HAROLD: What's the point, we ain't got a dog.

ALBERT: A pair of his and hers watches.

HAROLD: Where's the 'her' in this household?

ALBERT: Stick the 'her' watch on Ebay.

(Continues to read out competitions from food labels)

A trip to Austria to see the lakes.

A free house makeover.

HAROLD: A makeover for this house? Pointless. Be better off tearing it down and

starting again.

ALBERT: A mountain bike.

A car.

Oh and these packets of cornflakes are giving away £10,000.

HAROLD: You've got no chance on any of them.

ALBERT: I've as good a chance as any.

HAROLD: It's all done by computer these days father, no longer the ticket in a top hat

draw. They know who they want winning them prizes, the housewife or the

family doctor. I mean could you see your ugly, unwashed mug on the back

of the cornflakes packet, hey?

(In a posh voice)

'Oh, Kelloggs were pleased to announce that Mr Steptoe from Oil Drum

Lane, the local rag and bone man, won the £10,000 quid'.

(Back to normal voice)

They'd lose all their trade and credability.

ALBERT: Can go annonymous then can't I.

HAROLD: Alrite, alrite. So you enter all these competitions and you end up winning

nowt. Where does that leave me hey?

ALBERT: (Puzzled expression)

HAROLD: I tell you where it leaves me, it leaves me mate with a robotic menu

everyday. That kitchen has about 10 of each item out there, each one with

the entry form cut out of.

I mean gawd blimey, as soon as I finish my bowl of cornflakes in the morning

you've shoved another under my face in hope you can get rid of another box.

It has got to stop. Anyway, it's a form of gambling and you're meant to be

opposed to that ain't you?

ALBERT: Hardly gambling.

HAROLD: Cause it is, you buy them items purely in hope of winning something. You'd

never be buying half those things if they hadn't been offering prizes.

ALBERT: It ain't any different to your lottery each week. You've won nothing and, what,

you've been doing it for over ten years?

Least the competitions I enter I still get something from unlike you, you end

up with a worthless lottery ticket.

HAROLD: Yeah? And with your 'gambling' I end up with a breakfast time conveyor

belt of Kelloggs cornflakes from your daft 'competitions' idea.

Anyway, if it wasn't for the lottery where would my hopes lie?

It's that what keeps me going each week, well that and your Del Monte

prunes.

ALBERT: I'll win something from this lot mate, you'll see. And a damn site sooner than

you'll ever win anything with the National Lottery.

Scene 2: (Harold in front of telly, checking lottery numbers on the ceefax)

HAROLD: (Screws up ticket)

Sod it, another bleeding week here with him.

Surely lady luck would grace me with some correct numbers. Just think, six

correct numbers on my ticket and I'm away from all this. Buy myself a little

pad out in the country, buy him a place on the other side of the world. No

more work, no sitting on that wet plank increasing my piles.

I mean even five and the bonus ball would give me a deposit for some

penthouse in town, invite some of me birds round for cocktails, impress

them with my cooking, sushi or something. They'll be round me like

fleas round the old mans bed with my own little pad.

Saying that even five numbers would pay for an holiday, alone I may add. I

mean I deserve that more than any, a week away somewhere sunny. Study

the form, probably be more English birds there than there is here now, none

of the housewives speak English these days, if it weren't for the Polish,

Pakistani and Romanian dictionaries on the cart I'd end up junkless.

Gawd blimey even four numbers would pay for a night away from here at the

local bed and breakfast, least I'd get away from the bleeding Kelloggs

cornflakes for a morning at least.

(Knock at front door, Harold answers door to postman, receives largish

parcel. He studies parcel and reads out address label)

Hello? Mr Albert Steptoe, care of J&J International.

ALBERT: (Calling from upstairs)

Who was that?

HAROLD: (Entering front room, Albert behind him)

The postman, with a parcel for you.

ALBERT: Me?

HAROLD: You are the Albert Steptoe of this household, so I assume yes.

There's a letter attached to the front, open the plastic seal and take a look.

ALBERT: (Opens letter and trys to read letter, struggles. Hands letter over to Harold)

Here, you read it, I've not stuck my contact lenses in this morning

HAROLD: Ok, what crazy thing have you ordered offline now.

'Dear Mr Albert Steptoe. We are pleased to inform you that you are the

winner of our stay dry and happy competition. We hope that you continue to

use our products for many years to come and are pleased to enclose the

attached winning prize. Mr L Chattham, Managering Director.

ALBERT: I've won, I've won.

HAROLD: Open it up, we can share the prize, let's see.

ALBERT: (Taking parcel away from Harold)

No, you took the mickey out of my competition entries, so I'll keep all this to

myself.

HAROLD: I'm the one who no doubt suffered hell and leather eating double portions so

you could enter it enough times though. Just open it up and see.

I wonder what it could be, the 40 inch telly?

ALBERT: Nah, too light to be the telly. Might be the remote control and the telly is

arriving later.

HAROLD: I doubt it very much, it's a 40 inch telly, not a 40 inch remote control.

ALBERT: (Starts to open the well wrapped box) I know.... that competition on the

blackberry jam, a new set of kitchen knives and bread maker. It's that I bet it

is.

HAROLD: Or, or it could be the ten thousand pounds! They've sent it in used fivers with

a personal letter to you telling to wash your face and have a shave before

they come round to take your photo.

ALBERT: You think so? In that case I'll have a bath too and put on a clean shirt, wear

my medals, they'll like that.

(Pretend pose for a camera)

I'd look great for their cereal packets.

HAROLD: Oh yeah, just the picture everyone requires first thing in the morning as they

pour their cornflakes out.

Come on, get it open then.

ALBERT: It's well wrapped, I bet it's the money.

HAROLD: Oh the suspense! The suspense!

ALBERT: (Gets lid of box open)

What's this?

(Gets out a packet of babies nappies)

Bleeding baby diapers?

(Gets another letter out, hands it to Harold)

HAROLD: (Reads letter and bursts out laughing)

Mr Albert Steptoe, your winning prize of a years supply of babies nappies

and wet wipes.

ALBERT: The lousy bleeders, I though it was the money.

HAROLD: Oh my sides.

(Holds his sides in pain with his laughter)

It was worth eating all those cornflakes just to see that disappointment in

your face. If only I had a picture.

ALBERT: What the bleeding hell am I going to do with these?

HAROLD: Well, you are getting to that age when little mistakes can happen hey?

We'll have our own supply just incase one has a little accident.

ALBERT: Cobblers!

Scene 3: (Days later, Harold enters front room as Albert is about to go upstairs)

HAROLD: So, where's the passport to my freedom then?

ALBERT: Here it is, (Hands Harold a piece of paper) i'm off upstairs for a bath.

HAROLD: Many happy returns then father.

ALBERT: Very funny.

HAROLD: You don't need a bath.

ALBERT: Why not?

HAROLD: You had one four months ago. Oh, you've not won more nappies have you?

ALBERT: Cobblers!

(Leaves the room)

HAROLD: Don't get sucked down the plug hole hey!

(Chuckles to himself)

Amazing isn't it, all the hard work and sacrifice we plough into this

country, yet everyone's hopes every week seem to end up in the arms of

this.

(Holds out Lottery ticket)

(National Lottery build up on the television)

Here we go, two numbers and the bonus ball again no doubt.

TELEVISION: ...and set of balls number two choosen by Jackie from Middlesbrough. Right

let's release those lucky lottery balls.

HAROLD: Not lucky for me mate.

TELEVISION: Last week the National Lottery was happy to donate twenty thousand pounds

to support the local Polish community in East London with a new leisure and

sports centre.

HAROLD: It's us that needs supporting mate!

TELEVISION: Just one of the things National Lottery funds are investing into communites

nationwide. Now first ball is '17', drawn three weeks before, main ball for the

sixty second time. And now '43', the bonus ball last week.

HAROLD: That's two numbers, don't do it to me again, let me get another one.

TELEVISION: Ball '15'.

HAROLD: I've done it, three numbers on the lottery.

(Shouts at door for Albert to hear)

Three numbers, I've got three numbers!

TELEVISION: Number '33'.

HAROLD: (Gets up from chair) I don't believe this is happening to me, I've got four

numbers on the lottery.

TELEVISION: Ball '04'.

HAROLD: (Losing his voice from nerves) I've, I've, I've..... I've got five numbers.

(Shouts with a squeaky voice towards door again)

Dad, I've got five numbers. I've got...

TELEVISION: And last number is '39'.

HAROLD: (Studies ticket and numbers on the screen)

Dad! Dad! I've done it, oh my Gawd.

(Runs around room holding ticket, in joyous mood opens a bottle of whiskey

and takes a gulp. Walks up to wall and tears off a large strip of wall paper.

Then walks over to hat stand and takes his work hat and coat off and stuffs

them into the waste paper bin. Goes to front door and opens it, stands out in

the yard)

(Shouting) No more of this junk and squallor, no more sitting on that plank

of wood and shouting the odds.... I'm rich! I'M RICH!

NEIGHBOUR: Turn it in with the noise will ya!

HAROLD: I'm a millionaire!

NEIGHBOUR: You're a nut case!

HAROLD: (Re-enters the house and goes down on his knees)

Oh thank you Gawd for this blessing, I've worked my heart out for it and

you've rewarded me. I'll go to Church every week from now on I promise.

ALBERT: What on earth are you doing?

HAROLD: It's happened dad. It's finally happened!

ALBERT: What you've found God or something?

HAROLD: This. (Holds Lottery ticket out to Albert) This has come up trumps at

last.

ALBERT: What ticket did I give you?

HAROLD: This one.

ALBERT: What date is on it?

HAROLD: (Studies ticket) Er, 22nd March.

ALBERT: Thought so, I gave you the wrong ticket, that's last weeks. Here's this weeks.

(Hands new ticket to Harold)

HAROLD: No, it's not. The numbers match this one, not that one.

ALBERT: Oh do they?

HAROLD: (In a stern deep voice) They match this one.

ALBERT: Well have this old ticket back then if you prefer.

HAROLD: You horrible little dream shattering evil infested prune. I had won the lottery

five minutes ago and now you have ruined it. Oh gawd!

ALBERT: What have I done wrong?

(Looks into living room)

What have you done to the wallpaper?!

(Turns back to Harold who has fainted, laid out on the floor. Albert notes

Whiskey bottle on side with lid removed. Turns back to Harold)

I might have guessed, you're drunk!

 

End.