The Complete Fawlty Towers Read online

  Basil: Not her, the nail. They won’t have operated until tomorrow.

  The Major: What?

  Basil: The nail. They’re taking it out tomorrow.

  The Major: How did she get a nail in her?

  Basil: I thought I told you, Major, she’s having her toe-nail out.

  The Major: What, just one of them?

  Basil: Well, it’s an ingrowing one, Major.

  The Major: Ah well . . . if it’s causing you pain . . . you have it out.

  Basil: Exactly. So . . . I’m on my own now, start running this place properly.

  The Major: . . . So you’re on your own now, are you?

  Basil: Apparently.

  The Major: Well, she won’t be gone for long, will she?

  Basil: No, no, no, not unless there’s a serious mistake.

  The Major: Still . . . you’ve always got Elsie to help you.

  Basil: . . . Who?

  The Major: Elsie.

  Basil: Well, she . . . er . . . she left a couple of years ago, Major.

  The Major: Funny—I thought I saw her yesterday.

  Basil: No, I don’t think so—she’s in Canada.

  The Major: . . . Strange creatures, women.

  Basil: Well, can’t stand around all day . . .

  The Major: I knew one once . . . striking-looking girl . . . tall, you know . . . father was a banker.

  Basil: Really.

  The Major: Don’t remember the name of the bank.

  Basil: Never mind.

  The Major: . . . I must have been rather keen on her, because I took her to see . . . India!

  Basil: India?

  The Major: At the Oval . . . fine match, marvellous finish . . . now, Surrey had to get thirty-three in about half an hour . . . she went off to powder her . . . powder her hands or something . . . women . . . er . . . never came back.

  Basil: What a shame.

  The Major: And the strange thing was . . . throughout the morning she kept referring to the Indians as niggers. ‘No no no,’ I said, ‘the niggers are the West Indians. These people are wogs.’ ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘All cricketers are niggers.’

  Basil: They do get awfully confused, don’t they? They’re not thinkers. I see it with Sybil every day.

  The Major: . . . I do wish I could remember her name. She’s still got my wallet.

  Basil: As I was saying, no capacity for logical thought.

  The Major: Who?

  Basil: Women.

  The Major: Oh yes, yes . . . I thought you meant Indians.

  Basil: No, no, no, no . . . wasn’t it Oscar Wilde who said. ‘They have minds like Swiss cheese?’

  The Major: What do you mean—hard?

  Basil: No, no—full of holes.

  The Major: Really? . . . Indians?

  Basil: No, women!

  The Major: Oh.

  Polly comes in and bends down behind Basil looking for something.

  Basil: Yes, can we help you?

  Polly: Hello.

  Basil: You see. Three years at college and she doesn’t know the time of day.

  The Major: It’s . . . er . . . about two minutes to six.

  Basil (to Polly): What are you looking for?

  Polly: My German book.

  Basil (to the Major): We’ve got some Germans arriving tomorrow morning, Major, so Polly’s brushing up another one of her languages.

  The Major: Germans! Coming here?

  Basil: Just for a couple of days, Major.

  The Major: . . . I don’t much care for Germans . . .

  Basil: I know what you mean, but . . .

  The Major: Bunch of Krauts, that’s what they are, all of ’em. Bad eggs!

  Basil: Yes, well, forgive and forget, Major . . . God knows how, the bastards. Still, I’d better put the moose up.

  The Major: You’ve got to love ’em, though, I suppose, haven’t you?

  Basil: . . . Germans?

  The Major: No, no—women! Hate Germans . . . love women.

  Polly (rising from behind the desk): What about German women?

  The Major: Good card players . . . but mind, I wouldn’t give them the time of day . . . (he wanders off, mumbling)

  Polly (showing Basil her phrase book): Found it.

  Basil: I don’t know what you’re bothering with that for.

  Polly: Well, they said some of them don’t speak English.

  Basil: Well, that’s their problem, isn’t it. (Polly exits) I don’t know why she’s got to complicate everything. (he goes into the office and picks the moose up; affectionately) Got her cardy, did you? Hmmmmm . . .

  He comes back into the lobby and climbs with the moose onto a chair by the wall where he intends it to hang. The Major emerges from the bar looking at his watch.

  The Major: By jove, it’s nearly six o’clock, Fawlty!

  Basil: Is it?

  The Major: Yes, well, when you’re ready I might have a . . . er . . . fruit juice or something.

  Basil: I’ll open up the moment I’ve done this, Major.

  The Major: No immediate hurry . . . (potters back into bar)

  Basil: Drunken old sod. (holds the moose head against the wall and is trying to make a pencil mark when the phone rings) Polly! . . . Polly!! . . . Manuel!!! (sighs heavily and gets down, carrying the moose head with him; he puts it on the desk and answers the phone) Yes, Fawlty Towers, yes, hello? . . . (it is evidently Sybil) I was just doing it, you stupid woman! I just put it down to come here to be reminded by you to do what I’m already doing! I mean, what’s the point of reminding me to do what I’m already doing . . . I mean, what is the bloody point??! I’m doing it, aren’t I?! . . . Yes, I picked it up, yes. No, I haven’t had a chance yet, I’ve been at it solidly ever since I got back . . . Yes, I will, yes. No, I haven’t yet but I will, yes. I know it is, yes. I’ll try and get it cleared up. Anything else? I mean, would you like the hotel moved a bit to the left, or . . . yes, well, enjoy the operation, dear. Let’s hope nothing goes wrong. (puts the phone down) I wish it was an ingrowing tongue.

  Manuel comes in beaming from the kitchen.

  Manuel: Yes?

  Basil: Oh, it’s the Admirable Crichton. Well?

  Manuel: You called, sir.

  Basil: Last week, but not to worry.

  Manuel: Qué?

  Basil: Oh, Buddah . . . Look, go and get me a hammer.

  Manuel: Er . . . cómo?

  Basil: Hammer.

  A pause while Manuel thinks this out.

  Manuel: Oh, hammer sandwich.

  Basil: Oh, do I have to go through this every time? Look, a hammer!

  Manuel: My hamster?

  Basil: No, not your hamster! How can I knock a nail in with your hamster? Well, I could try—no, it doesn’t matter, I’ll get it, you come here and tidy, you know, tidy.

  Manuel: Tidy, si.

  Basil (striding towards kitchen): I get hhhammmmmer and hhhit you on the hhhead with it. Hhhard . . .

  He vanishes. Manuel stands behind the desk and practises his English.

  Manuel: Hhhhammer. How are you, sir? You see, I speak English well, I learn it from a book. Hhhello. I am English. Hhhello. (he leans down behind the desk; the Major comes in from the bar—he can hear Manuel but can only see the moose) How are you, sir. I can speak English. (Manuel stands up momentarily just as the Major turns away) Hello, Major. How are you today?

  The Major (turns, but Manuel has disappeared again): Er . . . er . . . er . . . I’m fine, thank you.

  Manuel’s voice: Is a beautiful day today.

  The Major (peering closely at the moose): Er . . . is it? Yes, yes, I suppose it is . . .

  Manuel’s voice: I can speak English. I learn it from a book.

  The Major: Did you? Did you really? (Basil comes back with a hammer) Ah! There you are, Fawlty.

  Basil: Yes, I’m just going to open up, Major. (he picks up the moose and places it on the chair)

  The Major: Oh, fine . . . I say, that’s a remarkable animal, Fawl
ty . . . where did you get it?

  Basil: Samsons, in the town.

  The Major: Really? Was . . . was it expensive?

  Basil: Er, twelve pounds, I think. (starts hammering the nail)

  The Major: Good Lord! . . . Japanese, was it?

  Basil: . . . Canadian, I think, Major.

  The Major (goes off towards bar, shaking his head): I didn’t know the Canadians were as clever as that.

  Basil (staring after the Major): He’s started early. (he gets down from the chair as Polly comes in and places a vase of flowers on the desk) Polly? What’s that smell?

  Polly: Flowers. I’ve just got them from the garden.

  Basil: Well, what are you stinking the place out with those for? What’s happened to the plastic ones?

  Polly: . . . Being ironed.

  Basil picks up the moose and is about to re-mount the chair when the telephone rings.

  Basil: Oh, will you answer that please? I’m trying to put this up.

  Polly: Fawlty Towers . . . Oh, hello, Mrs. Fawlty.

  Basil: I’m doing it! I’m doing it now! Tell her! I’m doing it now!

  Polly: He says he’s doing it now. How’s the nail?

  Basil: I wish it was this one! (he hangs the moose on the nail) There, tell the Tyrant Queen that her cardies are safe for ever. Mr. Moose is up. It’s done, done, done.

  Polly: It’s up. (the moose falls off the wall on to Basil’s head) It’s down again. (to Basil) Did you use a wall plug?

  Basil: Give it to me, give it to me.

  He rushes for the phone, falling over Manuel who is still messing about out of sight behind the desk.

  Polly (to phone): No, he just fell over Manuel . . . and he seems to have got himself jammed under the swivel chair . . . and the flowers have just fallen on him . . . no, everything else is fine.

  Next morning; in reception. Basil is replacing the moose. Manuel is in attendance.

  Manuel: Is up. Good. Up. Very good.

  Basil: Right, good. (one antler sags) Well, what is it? . . . Right! Well go on, get back to work! (to himself) Twelve pounds . . .

  Manuel goes into the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Sharp come in through the main doors.

  Basil: Good morning.

  Mr. Sharp: Good morning.

  Basil: You know there’s a fire drill in a few minutes, do you?

  Mr. Sharp: No, we didn’t.

  Basil: You hadn’t read the notice.

  Mr. Sharp: . . . No.

  Basil: Right, well, when you hear the bell, if you’d be so kind as to get out for a few moments, we have to clear the building. Thank you so much.

  Mr. Sharp: Oh.

  As the Sharps exit Polly comes out from the dining room.

  Polly: Mr. Fawlty, you know it’s nearly twelve?

  Basil: Yes?

  Polly: Well, the fire drill . . .

  Basil: Yes, I haven’t forgotten, you know, I’ve just told somebody—I can cope. I mean, you know what you’re doing, do you?

  Polly: Help get the people out of the bedrooms upstairs.

  Basil: While learning two oriental languages, yes.

  Polly: Mr. Fawlty?

  Basil: Yes?

  Polly: Who else is doing the upstairs?

  Basil: Only you. It doesn’t take a moment.

  Polly: Yes, but I’m only here at mealtimes.

  Basil: So?

  Polly: Well, what happens if there’s a fire when I’m not here, who does the upstairs then?

  Basil: . . . We’ll worry about that when we come to it, shall we? What’s the panic? There’s always got to be an argument about everything. (the phone rings; he picks it up) Hallo, Fawlty Towers . . . Oh, what is it now, can’t you leave me in peace? Yes, we’re just going to have it, I hadn’t forgotten! Yes, I know, I know I need the key, it’s on top of the . . . (but it isn’t) Well, where is it? . . . Well, what d’you put it in there for, nobody’s going to steal it, are they? . . . Yes, I know that you know, but I don’t, do I . . . Yes, I do now, thank you so much . . . (puts the receiver down and goes into the office) . . . Why has she got to complicate everything—I put something down, I know where it is, so she has to come along and move the damned thing so that I can’t find it . . . (he opens the safe and the burglar alarm goes off) Well, what’s she put that on for? Oh, I might have guessed . . . (he goes into the lobby; the Major has come in) Sorry, sorry, Major, only the burglar alarm. (he turns off the bell)

  The Major: What?

  Basil (to Miss Tibbs, who has come in with Miss Gatsby): Sorry, Miss Tibbs!

  Miss Tibbs: What?

  Basil: That was the burglar alarm, the fire drill’s not for a couple of minutes. (to a large woman who has come into the lobby) Sorry—excuse me!

  The Major: Burglars, Fawlty?

  Basil: No, no burglars. My wife left the . . . er . . . (to the large woman) Excuse me!

  Large woman: Yes?

  Basil: That wasn’t the fire bell, sorry, that was just the . . . er . . .

  Large woman: I thought there was a drill?

  Basil: Yes, there is. At twelve o’clock, but not yet.

  Large woman: But it is twelve o’clock.

  Basil: Not quite, thank you. (to the Sharps who are just going out) Excuse me!

  Mrs. Sharp: Yes?

  Large woman: Well, I make it twelve o’clock.

  Basil: I’m afraid that wasn’t . . .

  Large woman (to the Major): What time do you make it?

  Basil: Look!

  The Major: Burglars about, I think.

  Basil: It doesn’t matter what time he makes it—it hasn’t started yet.

  Mrs. Sharp: What?

  Basil: It hasn’t started yet!

  Mrs. Sharp: But that was the bell, wasn’t it?

  Basil: No!

  Large woman (to Mrs. Sharp): He means the drill hasn’t started yet.

  Mr. Sharp: What drill? We didn’t hear a drill.

  Basil: No, no, look, that was the burglar alarm.

  The Major: See!

  Large woman: The burglar alarm?

  Basil: Yes.

  Large woman: Are there burglars?

  The Major: Evidently.

  Basil: Look! What’s the matter with you all? It’s perfectly simple. We have the fire drill when I ring the fire bell. That wasn’t the fire bell. Right?

  Mr. Sharp: Well, how are we supposed to know it wasn’t the fire bell?

  Basil: Because it doesn’t sound like the fire bell!

  All: It did.

  Basil: It didn’t!

  All: It did.

  Basil: No it didn’t! The fire bell is different . . . it’s a semitone higher.

  Large woman: A semitone?

  Basil: At least. Anyway the fire drill doesn’t start till twelve o’clock.

  Mr. Sharp: It is twelve o’clock.

  Basil: . . . Well, it is now, but that’s because we’ve been standing round arguing about it!

  Large woman: Look, how on earth can you expect us to tell which bell is which? We haven’t heard them, have we?

  Basil: You want to hear them? Right! Suits me. Here’s the burglar alarm. (switches it on)

  The Major: Oughtn’t we to catch them first?

  Basil: There aren’t any.

  The Major: Well, why does the alarm keep going?

  Basil: All right! Got that? Right! (he turns it off)

  Large woman: What’s happening now?

  Basil: Now here’s the fire bell, right? It’s a completely different sound. Listen!

  The fire bell rings; it is indeed a semitone higher. The guests start to leave.

  Basil: Well, where are you going?

  Large woman: Well, there is a fire drill, isn’t there?

  Basil: No, no, no! This is just so that you can hear the bell so you know what it’s like when I do ring it in a moment! What are you doing! Will you come back!

  Miss Tibbs: We’re going outside!

  Basil: Not yet! Just listen to it, you old fool!

  M
iss Tibbs (affronted): What?

  Basil: Listen, just listen to it!!

  Manuel (comes running out of the kitchen): Fire! Fire! Everybody out, please. Fire!

  Basil: No, no!

  Manuel: Please now out! Out!

  Basil: Shut up!

  Manuel: Is fire!

  Basil: Is not fire! Is only bell!

  Polly runs out from the kitchen and starts to go upstairs.

  Basil (to Polly): Where are you going?

  Polly: Upstairs to tell the . . .

  Basil: There isn’t a drill yet! I’m just showing them what the bell sounds like!! Now will you go in there, go help chef.

  Manuel: Chef not here.

  Basil: Go and . . . start the chips.

  Manuel: Chips.

  Basil: Yes. When bell go again . . . stay!

  Manuel: What?

  Basil: No fire, only practice . . . tell him, Polly. (Manuel is despatched back to the kitchen) Thank you, thank you so much, ladies and gentlemen, thank you.

  The Major: Perhaps they’re upstairs, Fawlty.

  Large woman: What is happening now?

  Basil (switching off the fire bell): Now . . . (the phone rings; he grabs it) We’re having it!!! (slams the phone down) Now, are we all agreed on what the fire bell sounds like? Splendid. Well, now that’s settled we’ll have the fire drill which will commence in exactly thirty seconds from now. Thank you so much. (nobody moves) Well, what are you doing? . . . I mean, are you just going to stand there?

  Mr. Sharp: What do you suggest?

  Basil: Well, couldn’t one or two of you go in the bar, and a few in the dining room . . . I mean, use your imagination?

  Large woman: Why?

  Basil: Well, this is supposed to be a fire drill!

  Mr. Sharp: But there’s only a few seconds.

  Basil: Right, right!! Just stay where you are, because obviously if there was a fire you’d all be standing down here like this in the lobby, wouldn’t you? . . . I don’t know why we bother, we should let you all burn . . .

  Meanwhile in the kitchen, Manuel sets the chip pan alight. In trying to beat it out he sets fire to his oven gloves, and then spreads the fire around the kitchen.

  Manuel: Oh, no . . . no . . . please . . . Mr. Fawlty! . . . fuego, fuego, fuego! . . .

  Back in the lobby, the fire bell goes off again; the guests are leaving in an orderly fashion.

  Basil: No, there weren’t any, Major, it went off by accident.

  Miss Tibbs: Come on, Angina.

  Miss Gatsby: Thank you, thank you so much.

  Manuel (erupting from the kitchen): Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!