Lord Jerry (60) is sat at a writing desk writing furiously. He stops writing and looks up.
Lord Jerry: (CALLS) WINSTON. WINSTON!
There are a few seconds of silence.
Lord Jerry: WINSTON! WIIIIIIIINNNNNSTTTTTOOONNNNN!
There are a few more seconds of silence; the doors to the study open and in walks Winston (40), the butler.
Lord Jerry: You impertinent little swine.
Winston: And a wonderful morning to you too, sir. Now, you called?
Lord Jerry: Yes, that's right, I called! I called about an aeon ago! What the devil took you so long to get here?
Winston: Well sir, I....
Lord Jerry: I'll tell YOU what it is. You're getting fat. Fat and lazy.
Winston: I really must disagree with you, sir. When you called me I was precisely 400 metres away. A distance I ran in only 10 seconds at a speed of (STOPS AND THINKS) 93.6 miles per hour.
Lord Jerry: HA! I've known quicker tortoi.
Winston: On the contrary, Sir. I believe I have just broken the land speed record for any organism on earth.
Lord Jerry: Poppycock. The fifteen legged Polynesian sprinting hare is much, much quicker.
Winston: Well, I don't mean to be rude sir, but I believe you may have just invented that creature. Although, I must say that biology was never one of my best subjects.
Lord Jerry: Are you calling me a liar?
Winston: Certainly not, sir. Just admiring your fervent and medically interesting imagination. Now, if we could move on. What exactly was it you were calling me for?
Lord Jerry: It's about that poacher.
Winston: Now sir, I've told you before - he's not a poacher.
Lord Jerry: He ruddy well is. I saw him this morning striding across the garden with a pair of rabbits in his hand.
Winston: They were a pair of dahlia's, sir.
Lord Jerry: Dahlia's?! Why the hell is he shooting dahlia’s. MY beautiful dahlia’s! Whatever will the gardener say?!
Winston: He IS the gardener, sir. He was replanting the dahlia’s as you requested.
Lord Jerry: Hmmmph! Well I still think that he’s an awful, awful little man and I want him shot. Go down to the gun cabinet will you, Winston. Sort him out.
Winston: I don't think I'd be very comfortable with doing that, sir.
Lord Jerry: Why ever not?
Winston: Well he is my father, sir.
Lord Jerry: And? AND?!
Winston: I have a sneaking suspicion, sir, that my mother would be terribly disappointed in me.
Lord Jerry stands up.
Lord Jerry: Just take a long look at yourself, man. You’re fat, lazy AND disloyal. I’ve got a good mind to chuck you out on your ear – penniless and without a roof over your head. You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.
Winston: Well sir, I do have those photos of you having sex with your racehorse.
Lord Jerry: You blackmailing little scroat. You wouldn’t dare.
Winston: You want a bet, sir?
Lord Jerry: (Quietly) No.
Winston: And why’s that, sir?
Lord Jerry: (Defeated) Because last time I lost a bet with you I had to have sex with a horse. (Sighs) I’m buggered aren’t I
Winston: Quite literally, sir. (GIVES A CHEEKY WINK)
I really like this one - very funny. I imagined it being a very quickly spoken which worked well in my head, but then lots of things work really well in my head...
