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Scene 1 : Alberts flicking through channels on television in living room, Harold is in the kitchen.
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Albert : It's him again!

Harold : (Singing to himself, stops and shouts out reply from kitchen) Hey?

Albert : That fella.

Harold : Who?

Albert : Your bloke.

Harold : What you on about?

Albert : The one with the big nose, advertising some new TV show for Saturday evening.

Harold : (Enters living room and looks at television) Oh him.

Albert : What ever next? We've had pop idol, chef idol and now this to

look forward to, Best 'bleeding' Behaved Pet Idol. They'll be having Best Brushed Teeth Idol next.

Harold : You'll be entering it then?

Albert : (Moans) He's everywhere that bloke at present. Once the British

television watching public get a new face they like he appears

everywhere, talk shows, the radio, front page of newspapers,

cereal packets..... He'll be on 'This is your life' before you know it.

Harold : I don't know what you've got against him anyway, he's just as

good as the others. I mean, you go back to the eighties and

nineties and all we had to look forward to each evening was

either Bruce Forsythe, Bob Monkhouse or Noel bleeding

Edmonds. Least this fella gives this house a bit of atmosphere each evening.

Albert : Oh I liked old Noel, always got those people with his Gotchas.

He could wind people up he could.

Harold : Got alot in common then haven't you? No, I think this new bloke

here brings a touch of class to evening television. He has the knack for the business like.

Albert : Just cause you like the birds he chooses to accompany him, all got big Bristols.

Harold : That's got nothing to do with it. And besides, it's not him that

chooses things like that, it's the director or the producer's job. He probably don't even

get a say on his wardrobe.

Albert : Every time he walks out on that tv stage he knows he's binned

thirty grand in salary. I'd not be fussy if I were on that kinda

money. More money than sense, the lot of 'em. I mean,

Morecambe and Wise never got that kinda money.

Harold : It's goes with inflation Dad. We can't all go on living in the past

you know. There has to be progress. I mean, you have to let the

younger generation shine through, get rid of all the old clobber

clogging up our television and radio shows.

Albert : There's no talent, just money.

Harold : It's inflation dad, you've no idea. Inflation means... well, it means

inflated prices, inflated costs, inflated salaries..

Albert : Yeah and inflated bleeding Bristols.

Harold : You still wanna be living in the past that's your problem. If you

wanna get on in life you've gotta move with the times I'm telling you.

(Noise from letterbox, Harold leaves the room. He re-enters)

Albert : What are they?

Harold : These are letters father. It's what keeps the postman in business.

Albert : I know they're letters, who are they to?

Harold : (Looks at letters) Mine, mine, mine, mi... Hey, one to Mr Albert

Steptoe. (Looks at envelope) Oh, from the Co-Op.

Albert : Bleeding advertising again. (Opens letter) Their sodding funeral service department.

As soon as you pass sixty you get all the junk mail, sell your

house and release your equity, the 'have you made a new will'

mob, cod liver oil tablets, walking sticks......

Harold : What do the Co-Op want exactly?

Albert : (Reading letter) Special promotions on burials.

Amazing isn't it, todays modern technology? Once you've

snuffed it you can be burried, cremated, deep freezed, used for

medical experiments, made into fireworks to be blasted into the

sky..... they be having you professionally stuffed sooner or later.

Harold : Oh, that would be a good idea, (points towards skeleton in

corner) we could do we having a new hat stand.

Albert : It's not funny Harold, I mean, your letters are all investments,

body surgery or adventure holidays. Here I am staring at death everytime I get a letter.

Harold : It's just marketing, that's all, nothing to get upset about. I mean,

you've got a few years left in you yet.... haven't you? And

besides, they're not all bad. You got that catalogue through the

other day about wigs. You liked that one didn't you?

Albert : What do I need a bleeding wig for?

Harold : You're in a good mood this morning aren't you?

Albert : (Points remote control at television)

Well ITV1 can get stuffed then if they gonna use him all the time, I'll chance the BBC.

Harold : Yeah, you do that. I'm going back into the kitchen to check on

the quiches for tonights dinner.

Albert : (To Harold) Bleeding poof! (Turns over to the BBC News 24

channel and notes headlines) I Thought as much (Shouts out to Harold in Kitchen) It's your lot

again!

Harold : (From kitchen) Eh?

Albert : Your lot making headlines in the news again!

Harold : (Entering living room with tea towel in hands) What you on about this time?

Albert : (Reading from the screen) Labour Party shame as expenses are exploited.

Harold : Oh, I see.

Albert : The thieving bleeding parasites wasting my bloody money on themselves.

Harold : Your money? Since when have you given any? And besides

look. (Reading new headline from screen) David Cameron and

his conservative Party are also being investigated.

Albert : Yeah, but it's your lot that are in charge ain't it? They should be setting examples.

Harold : And your lot are fit to replace them, eh?

Albert : They're all sleazy in that Labour Party I'm telling ya. Look at

'em all, embarassed cause they've been caught out.

Harold : (Notes new headline) Oh, most unfortunate father. Looks like

your shadow housing minister has been (reads from screen)

'claiming falsely for his holiday chateau in France for six months totalling £5,650.

Albert : (Turns Channel over to ITV3, Britains got Talent is on)

More of these bleeding idiots thinking their the next Shakin

Stevens and him (Simon Cowell's face is on the screen), he's

nothing more than a great big hairy poof!

(To Harold) Even you could do better than some of those acts, they're all crap.

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Scene 2 : Harold is in living room standing in front of a mirror with hair brushin hand being
used as a microphone. Albert enters with a load of old magazines.
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Albert : Here, what you up to? You going out?

Harold : No, I'm just, you know.... What are those for?

Albert : Saw an advert for the local Parish Jumble sale in the local paper

didn't I? That means we'll have the bleeding vicar round here

tonight on the scrounge for donations. (Puts a pile of old magazines on the table)

He can have this lot, they're only gathering dust under the bed.

Harold : (Studies magazines)

These are somewhat dated aren't they! July 1973, Model

Railway Collector. Here, look at those prices. 18 and 'alf pence for

a signal box, 2 quid for a Hornby train set.

(Looks at other magazines)

New Wine Magazine, January 1980. 22 pence for a bottle of

claret. Here, we could get enough wine for a whole year here for under a tenner!

There's some history in this lot. Homes and Gardens 1975. Look

at these country retreats at todays new car prices. Just think

dad, if we'd had bought a house back then instead of that cart, it

would be worth a small fortune.

These are all nostalgic, the vicar's gonna be happy with this lot.

Albert : I'm gonna stick this lot by the front door otherwise he'll be

wanting to come in and nose about the junk.

(Carries magazines off to front door, one is dropped)

Harold : Here, you dropped one. I'll just bung it back on...

(Studies magazine)

You dirty old man.

Albert : Eh?

Harold : You can't give the vicar this. Playboy December 1979.

Albert : Why not, you said they're all nostalgic.

Harold : Yeah, but gawd blimey those bits ain't changed much over the

last thirty years have they?

Albert : Thems' collectors items they are.

Harold : Collectors items or not, if the vicar bungs this on the village fetes

jumble stall he could end up getting fired or loosing his collar as

such. Or even getting his collar felt.

Albert : Well, he can hav'em for his own personal use. I'll set it aside for him.

Harold : You're not giving the vicar Playboy magazines. You may be a

seedy old man, but I'm quite sure the vicar isn't. Now give me it

and I'll dispose of it.

(Door bell rings)

Albert : Gawd blimey, he's on the earhole early this time.

Harold : (Turns back towards the mirror and uses the hair brush again as a microphone)

Now, I must get that last tone right.

(Sings into mirror quietly)

'And too many Moonlight Kisses...'

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Scene 3 : Albert picks up the post from the floor, he notes a large envelope to Harold
from the 'Golden Times Musical Sheet', SW17'.
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Albert : Harold!

Harold : (Coming out from the kitchen) Do you have to shout? You know

you can damage one's ears from sudden bursts of high pitched sound?

Albert : It's the post. What's this all about?

Harold : What's it got to do with you?

Albert : Well it's posted to my address, I have a right to enquire.

Harold : You used to say that to the last lodger we had, until he told you to shove it.

Albert : Yeah, but we found out he was receiving 'Tranvestite Weekly'

so we got out of that lightly.

Harold : I'm not receiving any cross dressing literature father, please do not feel threatened!

Albert : Golden Times Musical Sheets?

Harold : Do you mind?

Albert : Not more classical rubbish?

Harold : If you must know I ordered a very well known piece by Nat

King Cole entitled When I fall in Love.

Albert : You've fallen for one of those slappers at the Skinners Arms

haven't you? As soon as a bird accepts a drink from you you

think she wants to be your new girlfriend. I've told you about

those Polish birds haven't I and I said.....

Harold : Do you mind! I happened to have choosen this piece for my big

opportunity. This (holds letter up in the air) could be my passport

out of here, out of here and beyond to.... to.... to a normal life.

Albert : What are you on about?

Harold : I wanna be a singer dad. I want to grace the stage like James

Brown, Steven Wonder, Otis Redding...

Albert : They're all wogs!

Harold : Do you mind! They are famous black skinned singers.

Wogs? If you use that word on the streets round here you'll end

up with your tongue cut out. We have to respect our minority

ethnic brothers today, there's no place in society for callous,

foul mouthed old men like you.

Albert : What are you up to? You entering the talent contest at the

Skinners Arms tomorrow night to impress those skinny birds that

hang out round the cigeratte machine? You know that the only

ones that win in there are either the drag acts or the poofs.

Harold : Talent will shine through father. If they will not judge me sincerely, I know who will.

Albert : You won't win that contest, you'll end up coming back here after,

defeated and a face as glum as Gordon Brown.

Harold : Thanks for the vote of confidence. I mean, you haven't even

heard me lately have you?

Some of the old birds from the round say that they think I'm

Frank Sinatra on that cart out there. They're always asking me for requests.

Albert : Yeah, I bet they are you dirty bleeder.

Harold : Song requests. You filthy minded fool.

Albert : Oh, I can imagine you singing up and down the roads. They

probably offer you junk just to shut you up.

Here, are you remembering to call out for junk? That's why

you've been bringing home less and less isn't it? You've

forgotten what your sitting on that plank for ain't you?

Harold : Of course I call out for it. There's nothing about is there? Gawd

blimey, I mean, I call out hard enough all bleeding day that I go

through a whole packet of lemon lockets to keep my throat going.

Besides, if I'm to venture into singing I can hardly keep shouting

out for junk can I? I'll have to take a tape recorder and play that out to 'em.

Albert : You'll not be a singer. You're just looking for an easy way out.

You're scared of hard work.

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Scene 4 : Harold enters living room with large trophy in his hand looking smug.
Albert follows him in from kitchen.
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Albert : You never?

Harold : Ahhh, worried now aren't you?

Albert : You don't win things.... You never win things.

Harold : What's this then (holds out trophy), it's hardly a new mobile phone is it?

Albert : Well, they must have had a crazy lot judging it all then, that's all I can say.

Harold : Can't congratulate me can you? Can't stand seeing me a winner can you?

Albert : Silly talent contest, I mean, what's the point? Going to retire now you've won it are you?

You must have been the only one in the contest. Who else entered?

Harold : Look, I've got the trophy here and that's all that matters.

He who holds the trophy is he that can say he is victorious.

Albert : You didn't win it did you?

Harold : Why?

Albert : (Holding Trophy closer to his eye) Cause it says here 'Winner

2009 - Freddie and the Pink Petals Rock Band'.

Harold : So? I got the trophy didn't I? I mean that's what they were all after wasn't it?

Albert : I knew you didn't win it.

You singing Nat King Cole? You probably sounded more like Michael Jackson.

Harold : I'd be very honoured to be compared to Mr Michael Jackson.

Albert : Yeah, another poof.

Harold : I was judged by mere mortals. They can't recognise talent. But this will all change.

Albert : (Studying trophy for hallmarks) How much you given 'em for it?

Harold : Thirty quid. They were hard up dad, needed another set of

drums. Plus they won't be displaying the trophy in the cabinet any more.

Skinners Arms are closing down next month, selling everything they are.

Albert : Bleeding recession. All the boozers are closing down

these days. It's your Labour lot to blame.

Harold : I'm not in the mood for politics tonight father.

Albert : 'Ere, just a minute. If they are closing down, that'll be my friday

evenings sodded up, the darts team will have to find a new

venue and there ain't another pub round here still trading for two miles.

The bleeding labour party is letting this country crumble to

pieces, I mean, fancy having to hike two miles from your home just to get to your local boozer.

Harold : Do as everyone else is doing father, home entertaining. We've

got our own bar over there, we don't need to pay over the odds

for our booze do we? I mean you said so yourself, that six pack

of Tesco own brand brown ale was fine the other day.

We've got that over there (points to a 'What the Butler Saw'

machine), that could be our entertainment and we've got our

juke box (points to old record player). Errr, and I... I could be the

live entertainment. I can sing a good tune, as you know.

Albert : You're not entertainment mate. A bird with big Bristols serving

the booze is the entertainment and we've hardly got one of them here, have we?

Harold : Anyway, I think you might have to get used to me being

entertainment from now on father.

Albert : What you on about?

Harold : I've an audition in the pipeline. I have been invited to be judged

by the experts. They want me dad, they want my voice, my

talents. From now on, Harold Steptoe is going to be the new face of evening entertainment.

Albert : Who you hoping to sing to? The national deaf association? He, he.

Harold : Saturday afternoon, 8am till 5pm. I'm going to exhibit myself.

Albert : You're going to that massage parlour on Finchley road aren't

you? Buy one hour, get two free.I'll come with you.

Harold : No, I've actually secured a prime spot on national television.

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Scene 5 : Albert and Harold are about to enter the set of 'Britains Got Talent', Ant and
Dec are introduced to Albert and Harold.
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Albert : Eight sodding hours we've been queuing up for this. They ain't

even offered us a cup of tea, bleeding tight fisted mob this lot.

Ant : About to go on is Harold Steptoe. Are you nervous?

Harold : Oh yes. I've butterflies. I'm not used to such a grandure stage as this you see.

Albert : Are you Dec or the other one?

Ant : (Laughing) I'm the 'other' one and who are you sir?

Albert : His father.

Dec : Are you a double act?

Harold : Oh no, this is my performance. I'm the one with my talent to

share to everyone, I wish to bring to life the most...

Ant : (Interupting Harold's speech) They are ready for you, good luck!

(Albert and Harold walk on to the stage)

Simon C : Hello and who are you?

Harold : Hello there Simon. I am Harold Steptoe and this is my father.

Piers : And are you two a double act?

Harold : Oh no! I am here this evening to sing some Nat King Cole.

Simon C : I wish you good luck, you have two minutes.

(Music starts)

Harold : When I fall in love, it will be forever. Or I...

Simon C : (Hand just about to come down on buzzer)

Albert : (Sniffs very loudly)

Harold : (Whispers to Albert)

Do you mind!

(Sets himself once more to sing)

Or I'll Never Fall in Love.

In a Restless world...

Albert : (Sneezes and blows his nose)

Harold : Do you mind! I'm trying to, you know.... sing.

(To the judges)

I'm awfully sorry, I mean, he wasn't even meant to be here this evening.

Simon C : (About to reply with an unimpressed expression)

Albert : Yes I bleeding was. I paid for the taxi here didn't I?

Harold : Look you.... (looks at the judges and pauses)

I'll deal with you when I get home.

Albert : (Snarls at Harold)

Harold : Where was I? Oh yes...

(Starts to sing once again)

In a Restless World Like this is. Love is...

Albert : (Has walked over to the judges)

Could you sign this for me?

Simon C : (Laughing at Albert)

Albert : (To Amanda Holden)

Here gorgeous, bung your signature on that will ya.

Harold : (Has stopped singing and walked over to Albert. Grabs his collar)

You're doing this on purpose ain't you? You are deliberatly trying

to make me look a Joe Ronse in front of this lot ain't ya?

Albert : (Whisphers to Harold)

Trying to get their autographs ain't I? Worth at least Hundred quid on Ebay.

Harold : This is my moment! Don't you realise you're balls'ing it all up!

Now stand their you little turd and don't move!

(Starts to sing again)

Love is ended before it's begun.

And too many Moonlight Kisses...

Albert : (His mobile phone rings to the tune of Rule Britannia)

Audience : (Starts laughing)

Judges : (Start laughing)

Harold : Put that bleeding thing on silent! I told you to do that before we left.

Albert : It's Charlie Miller, must be about that piece of porcelain he

wanted off us earlier.

(Speaking into mobile)

Hello Charlie!

I've told ya ain't I? Fifty quid and no less.

Harold : (Looking embarrassed)

Crowd : (Laughing)

Judges : (Laughing)

Albert : (To Harold)

Bleeding tosser. Thought he pulled the wool over me eyes didn't

he? I know what a piece of Clarice Cliff looks like, I'm not a fool you know.

(Notes Harold expression)

Here, why aren't you singing?

Audience : (Laughs loudly)

Albert : (To judges)

He's pretty good you know. Especially when he gets going

during having a bath in the front room. He gets that back

scratcher out like a microphone and he's like Lionel Ritchie.

Harold : Do you mind!

Albert : (Whisphers to Harold)

They love these kind of honest stories.

Harold : (To Albert)

IF! I may continue.

(Sets himself to sing again)

When I give my heart it will be completely..

Albert : (Starts to mimick Harold singing)

Audience : (Laughing)

Judges : (Laughing)

Harold : (Expression looking concerned whilst singing)

Or I'll give....

(Notes Albert mimicking him)

... my heart.

(Grabs Albert by his muffler tightly round his neck)

Albert : (Not able to breathe and choking)

Audience : (Laughing)

Judges : (Laughing)

Harold : (Singing)

And the moment I can feel..

Simon C : (Hits his Buzzer)

(Two buzzers immediately follow)

Harold : (Stops singing, still choking Albert by his muffler)

Audience : (Still laughing)

Simon C : I just didn't expect that!

Harold : (Looking rather proud)

Oh, thank you.

Simon C : You two are hilarious. The way you both have that scene set

out, it was like it was a real life scene for you both.

Amanda : Don't you think you should let the old man breathe now!

Harold : (Confused expression, releases Albert)

Albert : (To Harold)

Silly sod, I almost had an heart attack.

Harold : Go on then, have one. It's about the only place you haven't had

one!

Piers : I loved it! It was as if you weren't even acting, you two are

natural at this!

Harold : (Confused)

What?

Simon C : So Amanda, what do you think?

Amanda : Greatest comedy double act I have seen for ages. It's a yes from me.

Piers : You two deserve to be in the semi-finals. It's a yes.

Simon C : I'm not sure if the Queen would appreciate the bad language, but

you've both got a great comedy talent, keep it up. You're sailing

through to the next round!

(Albert and Harold walk off the stage to a loud applause)

Harold : (To himself) Oh gawd, they think it was a comedy act.

You've riddiculed me, do you realise that?

Albert : You got through to the next round, or should I say 'we have'.

(Ant and Dec come over to congratulate them both as the TV camera zooms in)

Dec : I thought you went on there to sing?

Harold : Oh get lost.

Ant : (To Dec) That's a first!

Albert : Here you two, sign this will ya?

Harold : (Grabbing Albert) Come here you.

(Camera follows Albert and Harold as they walk up the corrider and out the studio)

Albert : Here, what's your game? They were just gonna sign this for me.

And besides, we needed that interview to get the viewers to vote for us.

Harold : You must be joking. Don't you realise that they think we are a

comedy act, that all the crowd were laughing at us? Laughing at

us for being 'us'. Oh gawd, it's embarassing.

Albert : What you on about? It could be worth a £100,000 quid if we win it.

Harold : You must be joking, I live this life at home, I certainly don't intend

taking it up for a living, for the whole world to laugh at.

Albert : You don't know a gift horse when you're staring at it.

Harold : You've ruined my singing career.

Albert : Here, I just wanna go back and get thems' two signatures.

(Harold grabs Albert by the collar and continues on out of the

studio dragging Albert behind him)

(Camera fade)