5.11.20

 

NORMAN 2

A middle-aged/elderly man sits on a park bench. He is wearing a tracksuit and trainers and a baseball cap, pulled down. A scarf almost covers the lower-half of his face. He seems a little furtive/nervous and the audience may draw the conclusion that he does not wish to be identified. He looks at his watch, checks his surroundings. A shabbily dressed old man wanders by, muttering. He has an almost empty half bottle of whisky in his hand. He stops in front of the man on the bench. Looks at him. The man on the bench looks away. The old man shrugs and wanders off. The man on the bench follows him with his eyes. More nervous/jumpy than ever. After a while he takes a newspaper out of a plastic bag and settles down to read it. The old man returns. He looks at the younger man. Who notices him and flinches.

Norman: I'm sorry, may I help you?

Bopper: (Chuckles) I know you.

Norman: No, I don't think so.

Bopper: I do. I know you.

Norman: Look, I'm sorry, I don't think we've met.

Bopper: We were at school together.

Norman: What?

Bopper: You and me. We were at school together.

Norman: No, I don't think so.

Bopper: I never forget a face. And you've been on the telly. I've been watching you.

Norman: Watching me? What do you mean?

Bopper: On the telly. Following your career.

Norman: Look, I'm sorry, I have to go.

Bopper: No you don't. You've got all the time in the world. This your dinner hour. (Chuckles) And your meeting somebody, aren't you?

Norman: What? Look I don't know you. You've made a mistake. (He puts his paper in a bag and makes to leave. The stranger eases him back onto the bench and sits down beside him) What are you doing?

Bopper: You're Nasty, you are. Nasty Norman. Nasty Norman Braithwaite. (He chuckles) High up in His Majesty's Civil Service now. I always thought you'd do well. (The younger man is stunned and does not respond) Call yourself Jeremy now, don't you? Jeremy. (Titters) Sir Jeremy. Changed your name, didn't you? Crafty that. You always were a crafty lad, weren't you? Crafty and nasty. You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost! (Chuckles)

Norman: Who are you?

Bopper: I know I look a bit different now. Hard life, you see. Interesting, but, you know, a bit tricky here and there. But you, I would've known you anywhere. You've still got that sneaky, horrible way about you that you used to have. Snooty and sneaky and nasty and crafty all rolled into one. (Chuckles)

Norman: Look, I have to go. (Makes to rise, the old man puts his hand on his shoulder and eases him back) What are you doing? I have an appointment!

Bopper: Oh, I know you do. You're here to meet a friend.

Norman: What?

Bopper: Your brown-eyed boy. What is he? African? He's not Ukrainian, is he? Like them male models that set fire to Starmer's bins.

Norman: Pardon? I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.

Bopper: Sir Two-Tier's best pals were a bit more mature than your little lad, I'm thinking.

Norman: Look, I don't know what game you think you're playing but I'm warning you, one phone call from me and you'll be sorry.

Bopper: You think I'm playing a game? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am. It is quite funny, isn't it?

Norman: What is?

Bopper:  You and me. After all this time. And bum boy makes three. (Chuckles) How old is he by the way? Doesn't look a day over thirteen. 'Hang on. (Old man reaches into his pocket - takes out a sheaf of what appears to be photographs) This him? Him and you? Together? On this same park bench? Night time? Nobody about? (He passes a photo across) Turned on, were you? You look it, don't you? (Chuckles)

Bopper: Who are you? What do you want?

Bopper: He turning up in short trousers? School uniform? Bet he is, you dirty dog! (Chuckles) Get away wi' owt, you lot. Quiet spot this, isn't it? Just right for doing rude things to a schoolboy in the bushes.

Norman: Tell me who you are. How do you know me?

Bopper:  You still don't know who I am? Come on. Have a good look. Close up. Go on. Who am I? Come on, you're supposed to be brainy. Who am I?

Bopper:  We were at school together?

Bopper: Well, not in the same year but, you know, a few years apart. You were in 3A, I think, I'd be in 5C with all the jailbirds and loonies. (Chuckles) You know, when I got kicked out?

Norman: You were expelled?

Bopper: Yep. They got the wrong bloke. It wasn't me who did you. I was just listening in.

Norman: Richardson?

Bopper: Got it in one! I knew you'd get it in the end! (He slaps him on the back, chuckling) Mr. Richardson. Big Bopper! That's me. Like the pop star! (He sings) "Chantilly Lace and a pretty face and a pony tail, hangin' down"... He were named after me that Giles Richardson. Anyway, how've you been all these years?

Norman: Look, tell me what you're doing here. I really do have to go. What is it that you want?

Bopper: What do I want? Don't worry about me, Norman, I've got what I want. Rolling in clover, me.

Norman: Yes, but what do you want from me?

Bopper: It's not what I want, Norman, it's what THEY want, that's what matters.

Norman. Who are THEY? I don't know who you mean? 

Bopper: Oh, I think you'd do, Norman. You know very well. Hey, Norman, were you that way inclined before you got sorted? We all thought you were, but maybe you weren't. Maybe that experience clicked a switch or summat. What do you think?

Norman: Look, my sexuality really has nothing to do with you. It's a private matter. Now, really, I have to be off. (Bopper restrains him again)

Bopper: Well, it's not that private, is it? If it was private, you wouldn't be out here waiting for a little lad in short trousers, would you? And I wouldn't have these! (Waves the photos under his nose)

Norman: He doesn't wear short trousers. And I help him with his homework. His mother is an acquaintance of mine.

Bopper: His mother?

Norman: Yes, she's a work colleague.

His mother's pimping him out?

No! No! I help him with his homework, that's all. What you've got there has been artificially created. You could be prosecuted. You'd better give them to me.

This isn't you? You sure?

Norman: Yes! Of course, I'm sure. It's fake. Somebody's been playing games with you. And me. Hand them over. It's evidence.

You're right, Norman. It's evidence is this. Better get the bobbies in. They'll know. Give 'em a ring, will you?

Look I don't have time for this right now. I'll deal with it later, after I get back to the office.

Of course you will, Norman. Of course you will. (Chuckles) Hey, your little lad, are you're saying he doesn't even wear short trousers in private?

Norman: No! Shut up! He's the son of a woman at the office. I told you, now really...

Bopper: Oh. Only I had this picture in my mind. You know, after seeing these. (He rifles through the photographs)

Norman: Can I have them, please? Come on, hand them over.

Bopper: What?

Norman: The photographs.

Bopper: Oh, I don't think so, Norman? I don't want you playing with yourself in public, you know. I've got my standards, I have. (Chuckles) That'd be a bit of giveaway that, you know. Top Civil servant caught pleasuring himself in park, looking at dirty pictures of a little lad! And look, it's you, plain as day, doing the dirty with him! Couldn't be anybody else, could it? Nope, that's definitely you. Not A.I. at all. These are real. Very real. You are definitely the pervert in the pictures. No question about it. (Norman makes a grab for them) Oy, oy! You a thief now as well? You'll get yourself arrested, you will. Oy, oy, that lady's looking at us. (He waves) All right, are you? Don't worry about it. Haven't seen him in donkey's years and he's a bit overcome by it all. He always was an emotional type. 

Norman: It's all right. (To the same lady) Thank you. I'm all right. We're good. There's no problem. He's a friend!

Bopper: (He watches her retreat) Nosy effing parker! If there's 'owt I can't stand it's nosy parkers! I don't hate 'em like I hate paedos and tell-tale-tits and politicians but I never been keen on them as sticks their noses in. Look at her. She's still looking. I know, I'll show her my behind, that'll give her something to talk about at the Bingo!

Norman: Please don't.

Bopper: What?

Norman: Please don't expose yourself.

Bopper: Hey, do you  remember that time, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, you know, when I waggled it in front of your face. Made you sniff it. Do you remember? I bet you do. Dirty dog. (Chuckles) Oh, yes, I was quite the rude boy back then, when I was a teenager. Everybody's rude when they're a teenager, aren't they? I'm not rude any more now. I wouldn't wave me Willy in front of anybody now. Mind you, thinking about it, I suppose a lad like you would be more interested in tight little bumholes than a huge, great one eyed trouser snakes like mine, eh? Eh? (Chuckles)

Norman: Please, what do you want? Tell me what you want. Why are you here? Tell me! For fuck's sake, tell me! Jesus!

No need for that, Norman. And you, you who's supposed to be a superior type. What would Princess Kate say, if she heard you use the F word? And the profanity. What would the public think if they heard you speaking like a low life? I don't swear any more at all now. It's coarse and ungentlemanly. Only yobbos use the F word and the C word. You, of all people, I'd've thought you'd've known better. What would your dad say, eh?

Norman: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Bopper: Calm down, calm down! (Chuckles) Harry Enfield. Scousers. I was always good at impersonating, wasn't I? 'Ere. Who's this? "Muslims are the face of modern Britain!"

Norman: I'm sorry...

Bopper: "Muslims are the face of modern Britain!" Who's that then? "Muslims are the face of modern Britain!" Come on! It's obvious. "Muslims are the face of modern Britain!" "My dad was a toolmaker!" "I have prosecuted very serious criminals!" But not Jimmy Savile, he never prosecuted him, did he? Hey, Norman, did you ever meet Jimmy Savile, you know, on your travels?

Norman: Please, I can't stand this, I have to go.

Bopper: No, you don't. Sit down. We've got things to discuss.

Norman: Well, please, tell me what they are. What do you want?

Bopper: I want you to tell me who I was impersonating. We'll start with that.

Norman: God, this can't be happening.

Bopper: It is though, Norman. Funny how weird stuff just materialises out of thin air. You know, when you least expect it. (Chuckles)

Norman: The Prime Minister. You were impersonating the Prime Minister

Bopper: Correct! You see, I've still got it. Still got the talent. God given, you see. God gave me that talent. Some of us have got it and some of us haven't. Hey, what about this one. "I ate his liver with some Fava beans a nice Chianti!" Who's that then? (Laughs) Oh, yes, I can do posh voices as well! Could've been another Lawrence Oliver, me. And I think you know it. I never got to be a big success, though, did I? You know, like you.

Don't you think that's funny? Me a golden lad, best at everything. Sports, Victor Ludorum. shagging for England when everybody else was still a virgin. Oh, yes, I've still got it, all right. It's just that nobody's ever seen it. Because it's only horrible, little tell-tale tits like you who get pushed to the front of the queue by the bad guys. And the golden lads always end up knee deep in human waste. It's a fix from moment one to the mortuary. 

You'd know all about that, wouldn't you. Right at the top of the S.H.I.T. pile. That's not swearing, by the way. That's just letters of the alphabet, you see. Who'd've thought it, eh? Nutty Norman, top turd the in toilet. 

Hey, do you remember that school play. 'Zoo Story!' I played the nutcase, if you remember. Bit of a stretch at the time. But I'd be really good in that part now.

Norman: I don't remember that.

Bopper: 'Course you do. The whole school was watching.

Norman: No, I saw it, everyone did. But you weren't in it.

Bopper: What do you mean?

Norman: The school used to take us to the Nottingham playhouse every year to watch a Shakespeare  play. But that one time they brought a touring production of Albee's play to the school. The girls from the High School came to see as well. It was packed out. 

Bopper: That's what I'm saying, I was in it. I played the nutcase. (Silence) I enjoyed that play. I watched it all the way though. Only play, I ever watched from beginning to end. I could've been off with some likely lass. Bit of fish finger, know what I mean. (Chuckles) But no, I sat through it, from beginning to end. Yeah. I was really good in it, you know, for a young lad. Or, you know, I felt like I was in it. I can't remember now. Didn't get bored once. Zoo Story, you know. Funny, isn't it?

Norman: What is?

Bopper: How we ended up here. Like this. Just like Zoo Story.

Norman: Will you tell me now?

Bopper: Tell you what?

Norman: What you're doing here. (Bopper grins) How much?

Bopper: How much what?

Norman: For the photographs. To keep quiet.

Bopper: You think I want your money?

Norman: Well, don't you?

Bopper: I don't want your money. I've got all the money I'll ever need, me.

Norman: Well, tell me, please. Tell me what it is that you DO want? I can't stand this.

Bopper: Well, for a start I'd like to you to tell me why you were so horrible at school. I know you had a horrible dad, with his Hitler moustache. What did he teach, Latin was it? Anyway, like father like son, so that couldn't have helped, but, I mean, you were extra-horrible, weren't you? A tell-tale tit, snooty, always sneering at people, a squealer. No friends, and you didn't seem to want any either. You were the first squealer in the whole 400 year history of that school. Did you know that? Nobody had ever squealed on anybody before, no matter what they'd done, until you did.

Norman: I'm sorry, but that can't be true. I can't have been the first to point out who the bullies were.

Bopper: Yeah, but YOU did it time and time again, didn't you? Never learned your lesson. Couldn't keep you mouth shut. You just had to go crying to daddy. Has he still got that Hitler moustache?

Norman: My father has been gone for more than 40 years.

Bopper: Yeah? I thought blokes like him lived forever. I remember when he gave the whole school a detention. Just because his baby boy got his head stuffed down the bog. The other masters were sniggering behind him, behind his back. Remember that?

Norman: I wasn't there.

Bopper: Right. Well, they were. They didn't like him either. Gesticulating with his arms and frothing at the mouth. Just like Father Ted in that Chinese episode. Right weirdo. And then you got bummed. And that was the end, not of you, oh no, but of me. Why did you do it?

Norman: Do what?

Bopper: Say it was me?

Norman: Is that what this is all about? Revenge, 50 years later.

Bopper: 56, as it happens, Norman. Accuracy is important.

Norman: For goodness sake, tell me what you want! What do you want me to do? Tell me!

Bopper: I've got what I want. Don't worry about me, Norman. I'm being paid for this, you know. Cash in the bank. I'm well in. And I get to see you pay for doing what you've done. I get to see a horrible person get his! First hand. For all the horrible crimes he's committed. 

Norman: Look, I never knew for certain who did it until later. But when they'd gone, I heard you. You had a very distinctive laugh. You said, 'enjoy that, did you?' And then you said, 'Does it sting? I bet it stings. Serves you right, for being a squealer!' And then you laughed. I knew it was you straightaway. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Bopper: But it wasn't me that did it.

Norman: Yes, but you were there. Watching. Sniggering.

Bopper: You got that right. Except I wasn't watching. I was listening though. But I could see what was happening in my mind's eye. I had to put my hand over my mouth to stop whoever it was from hearing me. I was in the end stall, doing what comes naturally, as it happens. You must've known it wasn't me.

Norman: I knew.

Bopper: So, why did you say it was?

Norman: I didn't. I just told my father what I'd heard you say.

Bopper: And you didn't bother to put him straight?

Norman: I told him it wasn't you. But he didn't care. To be honest, neither did I. You were a vicious and unpleasant bully. And you thought what happened to me was funny.

Bopper: It was. It was hilarious.

Norman: Not to me, it wasn't.

Bopper: It opened your eyes to the fact that you're a bum bandit, Norman. Set you off on the road to pervy paradise! That's why you're here now? Bit of bum with a picaninny. Get away with murder you lot. Hey, did you ever meet Jeffrey Epstein? I bet you did. Dirty little tart. Did you ever bump into Trump or Peter Mandelson, or the Clintons? You know, big shots? I bet you did. Have you ever eaten a child?

Norman: What?

Bopper: A kid. A little boy. Have you eaten one? They're at it all the time, apparently. You know, sucking juice out of them, Andrenochrome? I wouldn't eat a baby or a child ever. Not even if I was starving hungry. I'd probably eat you, you know, if we were on a desert island and we'd run out of pineapples. (Laughs) Not in that way, you dirty dog! Dirty mind you've got! I know what you were thinking, you cheeky monkey. Same old Norman!

Norman: I never met Jeffrey Epstein, I didn't know him.

Bopper: Getout! All you pervs had big Jeff in your Filofax. You must have met him.

Norman: I never met him. Different social circles.

Bopper: I know who did it, you know. Had their wicked way with you. Prefects. Prefects they were. Not 5C like me. Even the prefects hated you.

Norman: I know.

Bopper: Eh? What do you know?

Norman: I know who did it.

Bopper: Was it you who bumped 'em off? I bet it was. They're all gone now. In suspicious circumstances. All in the same car after some reunion or other. It was you, wasn't it?

Norman: It wasn't me. And if it was, I couldn't possibly comment.

Bopper: It WAS you! Unbelievable. (Chortles) Vengeance is mine, sayeth the elite paedo. Bloody hell, Norman, you grew a pair, didn't you? Have you ever done anybody face to face? 

Norman: No.

Bopper: Got to have big balls for that, Norman. Sitting behind a desk and crossing somebody off a list doesn't count really. I've left plenty in a heap, me. Some of them might've snuffed it, just like your prefects. I like nice people, you see. I don't like people being nasty to nice people. 

That's what they locked me up for. They don't like me sorting out their immigrant pets. Protecting nice people. You want us gone, don't you? Nice English people. If I'd just done English lads, I'd've been all right. Black lads and Pakis, well, they carry knives, machetes and what not. I had to get stitched up one time too many. That's how they got me that first time. And once they knew who I was, well... 

Norman: So you're a racist as well as a homophobe.

Bopper: Norman, the nasty name-calling went out with the ark. Just another Commie tactic that. Get all the sheeple to join in, sneering at the proper chap. Those days are over, Norman. The silent majority got wise to your nonsense. (SILENCE) Had you ever bummed any little lads before you got bummed yourself?

Norman: No.

Bopper: When did you start?

Norman: None of your business. Look, what do you want from me? I have to get back.

Bopper:  Don't you worry about me, Norman, I've got what I want. It's what THEY want that matters.

Norman: You said that before. Who are these people? THEY, THEY, who are THEY?

Bopper:  Your lot. MI5, Special Branch. Whatever. Your best mates. THEM!

Norman: What are you talking about?

Norman: They want you gone, Norman. You've been a bad lad, haven't you?

Norman: What do you mean?

Bopper: You've been passing secrets to Ivan, apparently. And Abdul in Iran. Chinese for all I know.

Norman: What?

Bopper: Don't deny it, Norman. They've got you bang to rights. You're a dead man walking.

Norman: What are you talking about? You're insane.

Bopper: (Chuckles) It has been said, Norman. You look worried, son.

Norman: Of course, I'm worried, I'm being held against my will by a madman. You have to let me go. Now.

Bopper: Take it easy, Norman. No point in getting all agitated.

Norman: No point? No point? (He tries to escape. He is easily restrained by Bopper)

Bopper: Calm down, calm down! I'm only saying there's no point in you trying to pretend you haven't done what you've done. They know, Norman. You're a busted flush. Kaput. Up the creek without a paddle. They want you gone. (He is restraining Norman at this point) Hey, Norman, remember this? (Starts to give Norman a 'monkey scrub' as he intones the William Tell overture - Norman screams and begs him to stop. He does so eventually) Remember that Norman? Lone Ranger theme - 'Hi yo, Silver, away!' We had a lot of fun with that, didn't we?

Norman: You're sadist! A sick, disgusting sadist! You were a sadist then and you're a sadist now. I hope you did screaming, you filthy animal!

Bopper. Fair enough. If you can't see the funny side, I can't make you. (SILENCE - Norman sobs) Ironic, really.

Norman: Ironic? What is?

Bopper: Well, right at the end of you life, after a lifetime of behaving like the worst person inn the world all your life, you go and do something half-decent, and that's what you're going down for. All the bad things you've done - No problemo. One good thing, and it's 'Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road!' You've had your chips, Norman. Decision's been made. Too late to do anything about it now.

Norman: A decision's been made? By whom? By whom? Explain yourself, please!

Bopper: THEY, capital T, capital H, capital E, capital Y, THEY, the big lads, have made a decision. And, as you well know, you being one of them, what THEY say goes.

Norman: And that's why you're here? To kill me?

Bopper: Oh, no, I'm not going to kill you. THEY are. You know, some lad from the SAS or MI5, like I said. Sniper, SWAT team, you know. That's how you get yours.
For what it's worth, I don't think you're a traitor, Norman. At least, not for telling Israel's enemies what the bought-and-paid-for were up to. That's brilliant that. You should get a medal for that. But, you know, all the other stuff you've done. Climate change, chemtrails, spraying everything with poison, blotting out the sun, killing off the bees, getting us to eat insects and worms, blaming it on cow farts and cutting down the trees for huge great, effing Chinese windmills and solar panel rubbish. And then there was COVID and the poison vaccines. You know, Big Pharma. Bet you haven't been vaccinated, have you? (SILENCE) I knew it. I know everything me.

Norman: We had our instructions.

Bopper: From the Dear Leader?

Norman: Who?

Bopper: Tony Blair.

Norman: I was a very junior clerk back then. I did as I was told.

Bopper: You've been a top tier turd, turd's not swearing by the way. It's in the dictionary. So, is 'fart'. At least it used to be. I looked it up when I was eleven. 'An explosion between the legs'. (Chuckles) Unbelieveable. Yeah, anyway, you've been a big shot now for more than 30 years. Council houses and 5-star hotels for invaders as our ex-army lads are dying in doorways. Freezing to death on the streets. Yeah, everything for Abdul, sweet FA for the soldier who got put through hell by Blair and Brown and Jack Straw and Harriet effing Harman. When did you change your mind?

Norman: About what?

Bopper: When did you figure out your lot were the real enemy, you know, Blair and the CIA and MI6 and the Mossad were worse than Putin? You know, selling secrets to Russia.

Norman: I didn't sell anything. I wanted to prevent a nuclear holocaust.

Bopper: Ah, right. You did it because, all of a sudden, you're a nice person you and want to save the world. Sounds really likely, that does.

Norman: Look, if it makes you feel any better, just say I did it to save my own skin. If everything goes nuclear, we're all gone, aren't we?

Bopper: True enough. Anyway, it doesn't matter now, as far as they're concerned you're a traitor. You ditched the habits of a lifetime and put the people first for once and it's done for you, Norman! What a laugh! 

Norman: How do you know all of this?

Bopper: My lips are sealed.

Norman: Humour me. What are you doing in the middle of all this. I can't make sense of it.

Bopper: You're not supposed to. They've got you in the crosshairs, that's all you need to know. 

Norman: If you're not going to do it, how is it going to happen, at least tell me that.

Bopper: I'm not supposed to tell you anything, you do realise that? They could stop the second half of my fee. Anyway, I've already said. Some SWAT team sniper will do the business, be my guess.

Norman: So, someone has given you $200,000?

Bopper: They have. You can't rob that off me, Norman. That's in the bank, earning interest. Or rather, it's in my daughter's bank. I checked. Spoke to her. She's speaking nicer now she's left New York. She's lost lost that horrible New York Jewish whiney, nasal thing. Must be in with a better crowd. Anyway, she, now, officially, thinks I'm the most wonderful dad who ever lived. She's my Karma. You get what you deserve in this life. Just like you're gonna get what you deserve.

Norman: So, who exactly gave you the 200,000?  If I'm to be targeted, I won't be telling anyone, will I? (SILENCE) Come on, please, what does it matter now?

Bopper: "It's now or never, come hold me tight, kiss me, my darling"... No, no, no, forget that last bit, Norman, dirty dog! (Chuckles) I was supposed to be wired up. They gave me a recorder and a microphone. Put it on back at the hotel. But it was giving me electric shocks. So I ditched it. Too bad. I put it in that bin over there. See that bin? Right over there. If they want it back they'll have to root around in chicken nuggets and dog turds won't they? (Chuckles) 

I don't expect they'll give me the other two hundred grand anyway. You can't trust the elites, Norman. Screwing with the golden lads is what they're all about. Besides, what would my darling daughter do with another two hundred grand? Just blow it on a holiday to the Bahamas or Benidorm; North Korea, maybe. She's into all of that. Vietnam. Viet Kong land, just like Jane Fonda.

Bopper: So, what's in it for you? If your daughter's already got the money, why not just let me go?

Bopper: I'm not a politician, Norman! I'm not a civil servant. I'm not bought-and-paid-for. I give my word, I keep it. I'm not like you people, I make a promise, I keep it.

Norman: Even if you know that those you give your word to, don't intend to keep their half of the bargain?

Bopper: Stop trying to squirm out of it, Norman. You're a dead man walking. Tough. You get what you deserve in this life.

Norman: Look, I could give you 200,000. I could put it in your hand, right now.

Bopper: Imagine my shock, eh? (Chuckles)

Norman: No, I mean it. I've got cash in my safe at home, and gold bars, gold coins. I could give you whatever you want.

Bopper: Gonna shoot me in the crown jewels as soon as we get back there? You always were a tricky lad, Norman? Nutty effing Norman, still slithering after all these years.

Norman: What have you got to lose? Come on, let's go. You could tie me up and open the safe yourself, I'll give you the combination.

Bopper: You after one last bit if fun, Norman? With a real man? You dirty dog. I'd rather do Angela bleeding Rayner's mile-wide manhole than your skinny old derriere! Besides they're here now. Look. (He waves) All right, lads? He's here. Laughing boy! (Norman tries to escape again - Bopper subdues him) I'm not supposed to let on that I know them. Screw up the narrative. 'Cause they'll be filming all of this. Look, over there. See that bloke with the big camera. (He twists Norman's face in the direction he is pointing to) Tough, they'll have edit out the bits that don't fit the narrative.

Norman: If what you say is true, they'll shoot you as well.

Bopper: You reckon?

Norman: Of course. They can't possibly leave you alive. Knowing what you know.

Bopper: They know I won't talk. They know a deal's a deal with me.

Norman: You can't possibly be that naive. Why would they trust you when they don't have to?

Bopper: It's not about trust, Norman. I wouldn't trust your lot as far as I could throw 'em. No. I'm useful, you see. An asset! I'm an asset. Like an old James Bond type of guy. They could slot me in anywhere. Hundred grand, another enemy of the state goes pop. Who'd suspect an old fart like me? Fart's not swearing. It's in the dictionary!

Norman: So all this virtue-signalling about Covid and the climate and immigration, it all goes out the window, if they pay you enough. Have I got that right?

Bopper: Listen, I've been battling for the common man most of my life. Can't say he ever did much for me. 'Bout time I got my share, I reckon. My little bit. Besides, I've already told you, I wouldn't top a nice guy. Or a kid. I've got my standards. They can get somebody else for that.

Norman: You're living in dreamland, Giles. They're setting us both up.

Bopper: Don't call me that?

Norman: What?

Bopper: Don't call me that namby-pamby name. Giles. I always hated it. Call me Bopper, like everybody else does. Big Bopper. Giles Richardson was Big Bopper's real name. "Chantilly Lace, and a pretty face, and a pony tail, hanging down, and a wiggle in her walk and a giggle"... See, I've still got it, I've always had it! Know what I mean? I should be on 'Britain's Got Talent,' really. I'd go down a bomb! How does somebody with as much talent as I've got not become somebody like John Wayne or Mick Jagger?  I mean, what Lenny Henry got that I haven't got? I can do everything me. Singin', dancin', comedy, I mean I'm always laughing, aren't I? All sorts. I go down a bomb online, me. Well, I used to, 'fore I got locked away that last time. But my fan base is still there, just waiting for me to rise up, you know, like Jesus, eh? Or Arnold, you know 'I'll be back!' (Chortles) Yeah, I mean, when you think about it. A nutcase who sings and dances and makes everybody laugh, it stands to reason, why aren't I famous? It's because people like you, behind the scenes, corridors of power, you get your rubbers out and rub out the chances and opportunities of people like me. Don't think I don't know what you and your lot do to the truly talented ones. He got killed with Buddy Holly, you know, Big Bopper. And Richie Valens, 'Lalallala Bamba, la la la, la Bamba la la la.' In an aircrash. He was only young, Buddy Holly. 22 years old and he wrote all them great songs. What were you saying? I've forgotten.

Norman: We should get up and walk off, arm-in-arm. Like lovers. Pretty difficult to explain why they assassinated two old friends from school. Come on, Bopper. We can get out of this if we act like we care for each other.

Bopper: You'd like that, wouldn't you? 'Like lovers,' unbelievable! Did you fancy me back then? I bet you did, you dirty dog. Everybody fancied me. Belle of the ball I was. Top dog. Golden lad. Arm-in-arm, eh? You trying to ruin my reputation, are you. Before you go?

Norman: Gile... Bopper, please. Let's wave at them, like we're happy. Like this. (He waves) "He's my friend, an old friend. There's no problem. It's OK! We're good!"

Bopper: They'll cut that bit out, Norman. They're not daft. Nasty, but not daft. You're a dead man walking, son. They're just waiting till they've cleared the area then it's pop goes the weasel time for Sir Jeremy! You're done for, my son.

Norman: If I'm dead so are you! Why don't you see that? What's wrong with you?

Bopper: What's wrong with me? I'm an effing nutcase, Norman! (Chortles) I don't do what other people do. I'm out there with the fairies! Well, not the fairies. That'd be more your cup of tea. But, you know, axe murderers, Hannibal Lechters, Boston stranglers, Jack the Rippers, people like that. I do what I want, Norman. And, right now, I'm here to see you die. And, trust me, that's OK by me.

Norman: And what if they shoot you first. You don't get to see me die then, do you?

Bopper: They won't shoot me, Norman. I'm too valuable. I'm an asset, remember. They said that. Exactly that. Their words, not mine. A valuable asset.

Norman: And you believe them? You stupid idiot! I know the way they work, for crying out loud, I'm one of them!

Bopper: An idiot, am I? Well, this idiot just set you right up, Mr Christ-all-bleeding-mighty-big shot! What kind of an idiot can do that? You don't get to call me names. I'm a better person than you, always have been. You lot. You're the real nut jobs, not me. You kill millions, you do. I'm just a now and again type of guy!

Norman: Idiot! Idiot. Idiot! Idiot. I'm going to be dead soon, who cares what I call you? Idiot!

Bopper: (Bopper laughs, has a drink) You want some of this? (Offers him some of his liquor - He shakes his head) Calm you down, Norman. What's the matter, you don't want to drink from the same bottle as a mad, old loony? Ha-ha. In case you get germs. Ha-ha. You were always a big girl's blouse, Norman. (Norman snatches the bottle and takes a hefty swig) 

Norman: All right! Happy now! (Takes another swig)

Bopper: Oy, oy! Take it easy, there'll be none left.

Norman: What do you care? You can always buy some more with your blood money!

Bopper: Temper, temper. There's no need to go all girlie on me! Come on, let's have it. Share and share alike, that's what my dear old mam used to say. Bloody hell, there's none left. Typical politician, give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile. Good Samaritan offers you a final drink and what do you do? Scoff the chuffing lot. That'll teach me to be so generous. Chuffing's not swearing, by the way. Chuffer train, you know. Little kids say it.

Norman: Look, just tell me how you came to be here. Why are you involved in this? It doesn't make sense. Why did the authorities involve you?

Bopper: Why should I tell you anything?

Norman: What difference, at this point, does it make?

Bopper: Hillary said that.

Norman: What?

Bopper: 'What difference, at this point, does it make?' Hillary Clinton said that. Exact same words. Spooky that. After that Ambassador and his crew got done in Benghazi. Yeah, she really freaked out. More loony than me. Her fault. Hers and Obama's. She had a fit when they started asking the right questions.

Norman: Are you going to tell me?

Bopper: Get me a another bottle of this and I'll tell you.

Norman: Oh, right. I'll get another bottle. Happy to. (He tries to stand)

Bopper: Not so fast, sneaky! Haven't you got something in your bag? You know, for if your schoolboy changes his mind.

Norman: Shuttup! Shuttup Shuttup! Shuttup! (Grabs Bopper by the lapels) I hate you! I hate you!

Bopper: Calm down, calm down! Dear me, you'll have the lads thinking I'm the bad guy if you're not careful! (He chuckles) So, you want to know what went on?

Norman: Yes!

Bopper: And you'll calm down if I tell you?

Norman: Yes! Yes!

Bopper. Well, I'll make you a deal. You tell me something, I'll tell you something. You tell me a state secret and I'll tell you.

Norman: What do you want to know?

Everything. Anything. Who's really in charge? It's the Rothschilds, isn't it?

Norman: Within the uppermost layers of the canopy, Jewry is very powerful. That's certainly true.

Go on then. Who's the boss of bosses?

Norman: Who knows. Beyond my pay grade.

Rubbish. You know, all right. You tell me or I don't tell you. Your choice. 

Norman: Certain families are untouchable. The Rothschilds would be one. 

And the Rockefellers. And Bill Gates.

Norman: Them too.

Untouchable. No matter what they do.

Norman: No matter what they do.

And the top Rothschild, top Rockefeller and Bill Gates would be more important than Prime Ministers and Presidents?

Norman: Prime Ministers and Presidents are temporary. The families are forever.

Now we're getting somewhere. How about Kings and Queens? Are they more important than them? And the Pope?

Norman: Same. Families, bloodlines. Prime Ministers and Presidents and civil servants do as they're told at the end of the day.

What about Trump?

Norman: Bit of a loose cannon but the files keep him on board.

The Epstein files?

Norman: Just so.

Well, you haven't told me anything I didn't know already. You have to give me more than that. Have you been jabbed? 

Norman: What, with a Covid vaccine?

Yes.

Norman: No, I haven't.

Why not?

Norman: Because it was untested. I have a thing about injections. particularly rushed ones where the pharmaceutical companies are in line to make billions.

How many civil servants got jabbed?

Norman: The lower orders, I wouldn't know. But, at my level, very few, if any.

I knew it. You knew it was going to kill people. 

Norman: Some, including myself, knew it was a risky proposition. Everyone should have known that. Everyone has the internet these days. There were lost of dissenting voices on there. The mob follows, it does as it's told. It does not care to leave off their computer games and do a little research. research. 

And yet you were encouraging us to take it. 

Norman: We did as we always do. We did as we the Ministers instructed. The politicians instruct, we facilitate the instructions. It's not for us to question the order. It is our job to implement it.

Only following orders, eh? You know what happened to the Generals at Nuremberg? That was their excuse as well. 'Beware the vengeance of the mob, young monster! For, when you get old, it may, at last, do the necessary research and swallow you whole!' Tell me something. If we hadn't stuffed your head down the bog, if you hadn't been done in the bogs that day, would you have turned into something else? Would you have turned out to be an African Missionary who only buggered little boys in India and Thailand, for example?

Who knows what I would have become? I wanted to be a diplomat. I was studying Russian and Chinese in my spare time. 

Still civil service. Still in a position where you could inflict maximum damage on people like me.

To make up for the damage done to me? Hardly, I had a career to forge. Vengeance was not a priority.

So you say. OK, Norman, quid pro quo, listen up. I was minding my own business, as I always do, unless there's a bit of a kerfuffle, you know, they love me in Rampton, been in there 3 times, better than Broadmoor. Anyway, they know that, if there's a bit of trouble, you know, some axe murderer or whatever, starts acting up, they know they can rely on me to sort it out.

Ever since I got that bang on the head when I was a lad. I lost any fear I ever had that day, and I didn't have much to start with. A big lad hit me over the head with a brick. I was giving his brother the Boston crab at the time. Called me a rude word. What was it now? 'Pariah!' That was it. I didn't know what it meant but it sounded nasty. Worse than the F word. And I've never liked sear words. Anyway, after that, well, there was no stopping me.

This was all before your time. I was already a bit of a nutcase when it came to horrible people by the time you knew me. I was never nasty to nice people. I like nice people. I do anything for a nice person. Like my mam, you know. Funny that. That was the only thing I was ever afraid of. Upsetting my mother. She never hit me, of course. She was a wonderful person. But if she found out I'd done something wrong. She'd look daggers at me like I was the worst person ever. Silent treatment. In the doghouse for a week. It was horrible. I'd be a good, little sodier for a month just to get back into her good books.

Yeah, it's just nasty people I can't stand. Bully boys. I'm not a bully boy. I only ever did lads bigger than I was. And horrible people like you. Politicians. Billionaire bankers. Civil servants who make it all happen. Immigrants who rape little girls and wave machetes about in the street. Israel. Israel slaughtering defenceless women and children. Yeah. That's not bullying. That's just getting your revenge in first.

Norman: You're a conspiracy theorist then...

Bopper: It's you lot that do the conspiracies, not Joe Public. We're just the poor, sad, silly fuckers who have to suffer them. (SILENCE) Hey, Norman, what the definition of a conspiracy theorist?

Norman: I don't know.

Bopper: Guess. 

Norman: Enlighten me, I'm all ears.

Bopper: A conspiracy theorist is someone who questions the statements of known liars! That'd be you, Norman! You're a known liar, aren't you? He was talking about you, the guy who said that. Never had a jab me. Not since I was little. We've got that in common, Norman! And we only got one at a time back in the day. Now they give little babies ten at once. No wonder everybody's autistic nowadays. You landed right, didn't you. Civil servant? 'You a known liar, Braithwaite?' 'Yes, sir, I'm horrible, everybody say so!' 'Step this way, young slimeball, you'll do nicely!' Been battling against you lot all my bleeding life. 

Norman: Why do you talk like that? Like a stupid person? You didn't have much of an accent back when I first knew you. So you can be down with the plebs, eh? Pathetic!

Bopper. Well, seeing as you're asking, Mr. Clever Dick, going to grammar school, you make an effort to fit in, don't you? But afterwards, well, there came a time when I found that I could get my thoughts together, express what I was feeling better, if I spoke like my granddad and my uncles and my dad did when I was a kid. Getting back to my roots, I suppose, made me feel more like the real me, like I was always supposed to be, something like that. You know, instead of us turning into Yanks because of what we see on the television. Or rappers, all the stupid youth talking like little black Sambo all of a sudden. Anyway, it's me now. 

Norman: Please, for God's sake! Can you please tell me why you're involved in all of this?

Bopper: If you want me to get on with, stop changing the subject! It was you mentioned my accent! Patience is a virtue, Norman. Ohm. Calm. Deep breath. Ohm. Know what I mean? Anyway, my granddad, you know, the pleb? He was a very smart bloke. He could fix anything. Any machinery, he could fix it, even watches. He had these great, big calloused hands but he could fiddly, widdly with his watches, he could fix anything. His accent didn't stop him being smart. Can you fix a watch? Or a tractor? Or an aeroplane. He used to fix aeroplanes in the war! No, I thought not. 'Course you can't. Anyway, I'm like him. If I'm interested in something I can get good at it. It's just academic bollocks, boring stuff, that no one wants to know, like Latin, and Russian and Chinese, that's what I've no time for. Not back then. Not now. I'm good on the internet, you didn't know that, did you? Dark web, hacker. Nothing special but, you know, I can find stuff out if I want to. 

Anyway, I got stuck into these tinted chaps once and one of them died. Your lot don't like it when big lads stand up and do the right thing, do they? So they stuck me in Broadmoor. Didn't want a bloke like me in the prison system. And, anyway, Broadmoor is where I started getting this reputation for sorting out troublemakers in the UK's loony bins. Always had the best of treatment me, always had my books, my biographies of great men, Racing Post, newspapers, internet now and again, holiday camp really. And, of course, Mr. Charm, golden lad, lady psychiatrists, you know, and the occasional Norman clone, all the shrinks were easy meat. That's why I kept getting let out! (Norman groans and puts his head in his hands) 

Anyway, I'd be the man to turn to when they wanted a situation defusing, you see. In the 'mental health facility.' Whichever one it was. That'd be me. And THAT, I presume, is why your lads arrived out of the blue. They must've heard of my reputation. You know, as somebody who could get things done. Turned up one day, Rampton this was, asking me if I could help them out with a little problem. And, strange though it may seem, you turned out to be the little problem. Two blokes in suit and ties. You know. Men-in-Black types. 'Make me an offer I can't refuse and I'll consider it,' says I. All Marlon Brando-like. So, anyway, after a bit of haggling we settled on 200 grand in my daughter's bank account and, Bob's your effing uncle, here we all are!

Norman: I don't get it. This isn't how it's done. Why would they involve you?

Bopper: Well, all I can tell you is what they told me.

Norman: What was that?

Bopper: They wanted to make it seem like a nutcase, I don't mind being called a nutcase, 'cause I am one. If it's true, say it, even if you're talking to a nutcase. Anyway, they wanted to make it look like a nutcase from your past had been stalking you, so they could get the SWAT lads to accidentally shoot you, as they were trying to save you from yours truly. Make sense now?

Norman: No.

Bopper: I can't help that. Talk to them if you don't believe me. Oh, wait a minute. You can't do that can't you. Cause you'll be dead. (He chuckles)

Norman: There's no way you're getting out of this alive, you know. If I go, so do you.

Bopper: I've told you about that. They'll be using me for other stuff once they've done you.

Norman: And you believe that?

Bopper: Why wouldn't I? Makes perfect sense. How many old fogies do you know that would make top notch assassins? Who'd suspect a poor old, mad loser of ever being the next 007? Nobody! And if I ever did get caught and they used some truth drug on me, cause torture wouldn't work, me being hard as nails, and I started to blab about the government and MI5 and the secret service and my top secret missions, well, the government can always say, 'he's nuts, don't listen to him! He's been in and out of the nuthouse for the last 50 years!' Perfect. See? They can't lose, can they?

Meanwhile, I get to live the life of Riley and my daughter gets to have her cake and eat it in Vietnam or Botswana or some other daft place nobody's ever heard of! And me, what have I got to lose? Absolutely nothing. 'As long as you don't want me to disappear any nice guys,' says I. 'Only horrible people, like Norman.'

Norman: And you fell for that? You're even dumber than you look.

Bopper: Excuse me, you're the one that's definitely going to die, not me. So you can eff right off with your nasty comments. All right?

Norman: How is it going to happen? How am I going to be killed?

Bopper: I've told you, sniper. Bullet in the nut. Night, night, Norman.

Norman: So, why do they need you? Why are you here?

Bopper: I keep telling you. You just don't listen, do you? Look, see this? (He draws back his coat secretively, in such a way that no one but Norman can see) Just in case there's any more nosey Parkers, nosing about. You're not supposed to see this until the last minute. Watch this. (He makes stabbing motions behind his coat) See? It's plastic. It's just a toy, blade goes in and out. But when I take it out and do this (makes a stabbing motion towards Norman, without the knife) and then I draw back when they say, 'Oy you, stop thief, stop your stabbing of that nice English gentleman,' that's when they shoot you. 

Friendly fire, you see. Do you get it now? They thought you were about get stabbed by a violent psycho with a knife. But, at the last minute, the violent psycho pulls back and you get shot instead of him. We rehearsed it. you know, in the hotel room. Time and time again. They must've thought a nutcase would forget his lines. They never knew that I played Hamlet and Zoo Story, or whatever it was at school. Patronising they are. I tell you, I'm smarter than all you traitors put together. How else, would I get the following I've got on TikTok and X? Didn't tell you that, did I? You don't get to be a big deal on social media if you're stupid, do you? I've got more followers on X than Starmer! The British people like me more than him! And he gets that big wage and a free house in Downing Street! It should be me that's the Prime Minister. Not him. That's another reason I know I'll be eating my cornflakes tomorrow, same as always. They wouldn't dare do me in. I've got too many followers. There'd be an uprising. Civil War. And they don't want that, do they? I haven't got as many as Arnold Schwartzenegger, or Charlie Kirk, but I've got more than Starmer and that black lass, what's her name, you know, Mrs Badenough... Badenough, what a bloody name, eh? (Chortles) Anyway, I've got more than them combined. They killed poor, old Charlie, did you know that? 'Course you did. You were probably in on it. Why? Because you knew he was dead set against the war in Iran. And he had all them youngsters following him. And look how right he was! They'll be wanting conscript them, won't they. Gotta see the poor little lambs off somehow, eh? The cattle! The Goy! Eh?

Norman: If you know everything, you should be aware that I was totally against the invasion of Iran.

Bopper: Yeah, well. It took you forever to come down on the right side, didn't it? And you've admitted you only did so, so you wouldn't get nuked yourself. Got you pegged, Norman. Anyway, that's how you're gonna get done. In, wait a minute, (he looks at his watch) bloody hell, Norman, time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? You've got 2 minutes and 37 seconds to live, my son! (Chuckles) 2.25, 24, 23, 22. (Norman tried to get away again)

Norman: Stop! Stop! Don't shoot! It's a set up! The government wants me dead! It's the gov... (Bopper gets his hand over Norman's mouth)

Bopper: Come on, Norman, you're interfering with the narrative! Stop being a pain in the rear end! Show a bit of decorum in these, the last moments of your horrible, little life! Sorry lads, (He says this to the police/audience as Norman struggles) We're gonna have to bring the turkey shoot forward a tad! Norman's being a naughty boy! You ready? Here we go then! (He takes the toy knife out of his waistband and displays it, smiling and chuckling, to the police/audience. Norman screams, he grabs his arm and manages to keep the knife at a distance - Before he fake-stabs Norman we hear a policeman yell 'put down the knife, put down the knife!') It's only a fucking toy, Norman, what's up with you? (To the cops) It's all right, lads, they can edit that bit out. A.I. these days. Artificial Insemination, you know. There's some marvellous stuff out there. 

('Put the knife down now') Fuck off! I'm enjoying myself here! Like when I was that Zoo Story. Could've been another Laurence Oliver, me! (He whispers) 'You ready, Norman? Time to say Tele bye byes.' He pulls away from Norman, and drops the knife, smiling and raising his arms.

Bopper: He's here, lads! He's... (Shots ring out. His body jerks. He slumps, dead. Norman is left alive. (Lights fade on Bopper - Spotlight on Norman - Lights fade on him)

THE END 


Nice one, Norman.

graham linehan trannies You've changed everything around so that sane people are now loonies and nutcases are normal!

Did you see that? I plucked  a hair from your head and you didn't even notice!
That's a grey hair, my hair is black.
your hair is died black. I plucked the one hair on your head that the dye failed to reach.
You're full of it, Richardson. You always were.
See, that's typical, that is. Always spoiling everybody's fun.
However, what colour is that hair then, eh? It's black, isn't it? get out of that, you horrible little man.

I might have an old fogies face but my body is toned and ready.

The one grey hair from your head

Not Bruce Lee, Tommy Cooper.

I'll take it, Norman. At least, in you're own unsweet way, you're admitting that I'm fabulously talented. For a horrible, evil sceptic of the first water, that'll do.

Do you get that? Badenough, Badenough. BADENOCH, it's a play on words, what's that?

A pun.

Precisely. I knew that. You think I'm thick, don't you. Well, if I'm thick, how come I got into Grammar school, then? I can't be thick, can I? Just because I talk thick doesn't mean I AM thick!

I am a bit the worse for wear. I'll admit that. They, you know, your lot, they didn't want me drinking, did they? Well, stuff them, eh? No, you don't get the opportunity to drink as much in the Nuthouse. Now and again, but, you know, not as much. Well, I picked up a bottle on my way here. Half a bottle. Then I got another half, half which you nicked you greedy article!


Because of all the rubbish they force us to eat nowadays, none of which is natural any more. Like it was when I was a kid.

I hope you don't swear. Just because you're about to die, that's no excuse.


We'd got you pegged from moment one.

Choose a twat. We don't want nice guys. Choose somebody who hates his own people. Selection process. Are you sure. You might be just saying that, to cover your own dirty behind.

Fuck me you lying swine. Honestly, if there was a toilet around here I'd shove your head down it. I swear to God.

Potter was a very nice lad. Nobody would ever have dreamed of giving him a good seeing to. He was funny and, you know, he'd let you crib his homework, tell you about his dad, who climbed mountains for a living and used to be an SAS man. But YOU. Somebody who was almost bound to turn into another Latin teacher with a Hitler moustache, well, we just instinctively knew if we wanted revenge we had to have it then. Not when you got to be a big shot civil servant with the power to see off three prefects and jab us all with poison vaccines. Do you see what I mean? The mob has sort of, these sensory organs that can predict the future. And, you know, if they can do that, well, they can certainly, detect an absolute twat when he's sneering at you from behind the bike sheds, planning the downfall of everything wonderful.

Pastry face Starmer. You want to grab hold of his face and knead it. And, now and again, you pick up a rolling pin and give a good few whacks, you know, to get the air bubbles out. I don't hate him as much as Tony Blair. I remember him at the labour party Conference, 1994, Labour, New labour.

You started off young. You were horrible when you were an adolescent. And, when you grew up, you were even more horrible, because then, you had the power. What I want to know is, if we hadn't tortured you, would you have turned into something else? Would you have been as horrible as you turned out to be? or would you have turned out to be an African Missionary who only bummed little black boys and Pakis. Which wouldn't have been as bad as shipping them all over here and putting them in hotels next to junior schools. And inventing all the race laws to shut us up, and calling us racist, while they were running riot with machetes and gang-raping little schoolgirls. You did that. You did all of that. And, somehow, we knew it. We knew you'd grow up to be a traitor who'd do something like that.

Which wouldn't have been as bad as shipping them all over here when they grew up and putting them in hotels next to junior schools, would it? And inventing all the race laws to shut us up, while they were running riot with machetes and gang-raping schoolgirls. Your sort did that. Your sort facilitated the instructions. 

I don't really believe in God. If there's a God up there it's not a very nice one, is it? Letting all those poor people in Gaza get slaughtered just because they haven't got an atom bomb. Or even any pop guns or water pistols. They've got nothing. Nobody goes to war with North Korea, do they?

And those little girls in Iran who got blown up by Trump and his admirals. That was deliberate, that was. You'd know that. Those little girls were the daughters of the military elite. They thought the army lads would just pack it in if they brought their daughters to the slaughter, in the immortal words of Iron Maiden. (Sings) Hang on a minute. I hope there aren't any Iranians around, cause I'm on their side, you know. I used to be on Trump's side when he said no more wars but it turns out he was just another lying politician. And a businessman making tons of money, passing on insider trading to his sons, Barron. And Donald, jnr. And them making billions out of it. You'll know all this.

That's why Charlie was assassinated because he spoke out against war with Iran. The youth would've risen up if he'd been around to say, this is wrong. No more war for Israel. Cause that's what he was saying, wasn't it? He was telling the truth about those who'd been sponsoring him, hoping he was just another Christian Zionist who preach the everlasting love of Israel and the money men. 93 out of the 100 Senators have accepted blood money from Israel. What do you think of that?


 It never occurred to the Trump crowd that they want to exact a bit of revenge for what they did. Politicians are stupid. And evil. And bought-and-paid-for. Who owns 'em though? You'd know that. It's all right, you don't have to say. I know. I know even more than you do.

It broke my mother's heart.

This is what politicians and civil servants do. They keep mum. Even if you want to, you never speak out. You just keep on collecting your wages. That's all you ever do. They never do what they supposed to do, which is serve the people and make them happy.

Today you get your just deserts, bullet in the nut, courtesy of Big Brother, who you once thought was your best mate, your favourite uncle. Karma that.

What have I told you about swearing? We could see you muttering under your breath, you know, in the olden days, under your breath. You swore worse than me. Only yours was under your breath. Sneaky, so the masters wouldn't hear you! Is your middle name 'Sneaky', or what?

# posted by SECRETS @ 14:52




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