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Transcript: 1x04, "Douz"

So sorry this took so long (three months! *sheepish*).

Thanks to shadings, kikainausagi, arianedevere and lady_t_220 for filling in the missing bits :D If there are any more mistakes I've made in the transcript, please comment, thanks!

(Names of minor characters taken from the Cabin Pressure page on the Pozzitive website.)

Series 1, Episode 4: DOUZ

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Good afternoon. This is your captain speaking. Just to say there is absolutely nothing to worry about.

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Hello. Captain Crieff here again. Still no need to panic. I repeat, there is no need to panic. Or to look out of the windows. Everything's fine.

(bing bong!)

MARTIN: Actually, I wasn't being entirely straight with you just now. You see, it's this damnable sleeping sickness of mine. [Yawns.] Normally I control it with a mysterious stimulant from South America but blast it, my supply's run out. I'm afraid our only hope now is if by some chance someone on board knows how to prepare this stimulant and could—

CAROLYN: Yes, we get the message. Arthur, take Martin his coffee.

OPENING CREDITS: This week: Douz!

ARTHUR: Here you are, skipper! Wow, is that the Sahara?

DOUGLAS: The vast sandy thing on the ground? That's the chap, yes.

ARTHUR: Wow. It's brilliant!

DOUGLAS: Always at hand with the mot juste, aren't you, Arthur? Yes, the Sahara Desert is brilliant, just as the Niagara Falls were brilliant, the Northern Lights were brilliant, and that chap from RyanAir burping the theme to the Muppets was really brilliant.

ARTHUR: Come on, that was brilliant. Wow, camels!

DOUGLAS: And how would you describe them, in a word?

ARTHUR: Brilliant!

DOUGLAS: Thought so.

ARTHUR: What are they all doing there?

DOUGLAS: Filling up. Douz is the last town in Tunisia before the desert. It's like a big camel petrol station.

MARTIN: [scoffs] What would you know about petrol stations?

DOUGLAS: I've . . . seen them; I drive past them; sometimes I stop for a Kit-Kat.

ARTHUR: What, doesn't—doesn't your car need petrol, Douglas?

MARTIN: No, Douglas's car does not need petrol.

ARTHUR: Wow. Well, maybe I should get one—

DOUGLAS: Yes, Arthur, you keep lumbering on after the uptake. It's sure to tire eventually. What Martin's getting at (and this isn't for your mother's ears) is: you know how we have to run off a couple of litres of fuel before every trip to check for water droplets? Well, there's nothing in the book to say where you have to run it off to.


MARTIN: I think there's a general understanding that they didn't mean "into the tank of the first officer's Lexus".

DOUGLAS: Then they should have said so. I'm not a mind reader.

ARTHUR: What, you can run a car on aviation fuel?

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes! It's a bit like giving a bunny rabbit cheetah food, but it doesn't half make it go—as I imagine it would do the bunny rabbit.

DOUZ ATC: Golf Tango India, good evening. You're cleared to land at your discretion on 2-7. Wind is 200 at 25.

DOUGLAS: Roger. [switches off radio] Ooh, breezy.

MARTIN: You still happy to take the landing, or shall I?

DOUGLAS: Oh, I suspect I'll muddle through, Martin. I was doing my logbook the other day and I noticed that this happens to be my 2,000th landing.

ARTHUR: Oh, wow! Is that true? That's amazing.

DOUGLAS: Oh. Not "brilliant"? I'm crushed.

MARTIN: No, it's not true, Arthur, it's just another transparent attempt to remind me what a mighty Sky God he is.

DOUGLAS: Of course it's true! Why would you doubt it?

MARTIN: Well, my suspicions were first aroused by the use of the phrase "I was doing my logbook". The last time you did your logbook, you could've had it signed off by Douglas Bader.

DOUGLAS: Don't listen to him, Arthur. Two thousand landings precisely.

ARTHUR: Wow. And how many takeoffs?

DOUGLAS: Oh, nothing like as many.

ARTHUR: Right.

MARTIN: Mmm, because of course takeoffs are cancelled all the time; landings almost never.

DOUGLAS: That's right.

ARTHUR: Ah, yes. Of course.

MARTIN: [warning beep] Oh, hang on, we've lost one of the hydro systems.

DOUGLAS: Mmm, possibly. The thing about Gertie though, bless her, is she is rather The Aeroplane Who Cries Wolf. I particularly enjoyed her last ground proximity warning—the one when we were on the ground.

MARTIN: The contents have fallen to zero. Stand by Pump 2 on, check pressure . . . Pressure's falling. No, we really have lost No. 1 hydraulic system!

DOUGLAS: Oooh, what fun!

MARTIN: Right. Er, right, right. Erm, No. 1 hydraulic system lost. Uh . . . no special procedures! "Notes: lack of rudder will reduce max crosswind limit to 25 knots."

DOUGLAS: Won't it just! Arthur, break the emergency glass! I require my Biggles hat.

MARTIN: Douglas, this is serious!

DOUGLAS: [beep] Douz tower, this is Golf Tango India, we've lost our No. 1 hydraulic system, no operational effects, we continue to make our approach.

DOUZ ATC: Roger that, Golf Tango India. We'll have the fire truck on standby.

DOUGLAS: You're quite the little ray of sunshine, aren't you, Tower? [beep] (bing-bong!) Hello Carolyn, this is the pointy end. Just to let you know I'll be landing today without No. 1 hydro.


DOUGLAS: Oh, I don't know, just to see if I can. All right, everyone, hang on, we're going in!

MARTIN: I have control.


MARTIN: I have control. I have control! Control, I have it!

DOUGLAS: Martin, you gave me this sector, and I'm well within my limits—

MARTIN: I know, I know, I'm sorry, but we can't be too careful.

DOUGLAS: Too careful?

MARTIN: [forcefully] I have control.

DOUGLAS: How do you mean, "too careful"?

MARTIN: [firmly] Douglas. I have control.

DOUGLAS: . . . you have control.

[On the tarmac in Douz.]

MARTIN: . . . and shutdown checks complete. [Breathes a sigh of relief.]

DOUGLAS: Well done, Captain.

[Flight deck door opens.]

CAROLYN: Good lord, Douglas. You made a right old meal of that, didn't you?

DOUGLAS: Not really.

CAROLYN: What? You did two go-arounds, then you finally slammed it onto the ground like you were trying to wipe out the dinosaurs.

DOUGLAS: Oh, I'm not denying a right old meal was made of it, but I was not the chef du jour. Captain Crieff kindly took control.

CAROLYN: What? Martin landed it? With a hydro failure and a crosswind? Martin, you get flustered trying to parallel-park! Why on earth would you take control?

MARTIN: I'm the senior pilot on board, Carolyn.

CAROLYN: Yes, but Douglas is the better pilot on board. You do see how "better" trumps "senior", don't you?

MARTIN: For your information, a firm landing is generally the safest.

CAROLYN: If that landing had been any safer it would've killed us.

DOUGLAS: You know what they say—a good landing's any landing you can walk away from. A great landing is one where they can re-use the plane.

ARTHUR: Mum, I was just taking a look outside and, um . . . the company who sub-contracted to us, are they called Panda Charters?

CAROLYN: Yes, why?

ARTHUR: And they're hiring us because they have a tech failure?

CAROLYN: Yes, why?

ARTHUR: Look over there. It looks like quite a big tech failure.

CAROLYN: Good lord.

DOUGLAS: That is a very broken plane.

ARTHUR: Do they have hyenas in the Sahara?

MARTIN: Not big enough to attack 737s, but I take your point.

[A pause while everyone digests this piece of information.]

CAROLYN: Well, let's turn this 'round as quickly as possible. I'll be back in an hour, and watch out for anyone trying to steal our engines.

DOUGLAS: Have no fear! Martin will be in control throughout.

[CAROLYN opens the door to be greeted by, if it was at all possible, the sounds of the sizzling Sahara at high noon.]


ARTHUR: Are you all right, mum?

CAROLYN: Gosh, it's hot!

DOUGLAS: Ah! Sahara not only brilliant, but hot! I see where Arthur gets his way with words.

[Back in the flight deck.]

MARTIN: So . . . they're officially the national cricket team?

DOUGLAS: Apparently. Of Scotland.

MARTIN: Didn't think Scots played cricket.

DOUGLAS: It seems at least eleven of them do.

MARTIN: And the Scotland-Tunisia cricket match, is that a regular thing?

DOUGLAS: A hotly-contested Hiberno-African derby, I've no doubt.

[A buzz, then the click of a camera.]

MARTIN: What are you doing now, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Oh, nothing! You two carry on. Act natural.

DOUGLAS: Why are you taking our pictures?

ARTHUR: Mum's reprinting our company brochure, and she said I could have a go at taking the picture of the cover.

DOUGLAS: Oh dear, does that mean we're losing the current one?

MARTIN: The one with Carolyn strangling a customer?

DOUGLAS: I always thought that summed up MJN Air rather well.

ARTHUR: She's adjusting his pillow! . . . But yeah, it does look a bit strangle-y.

[There is a knock at the flight deck door, which then opens.]


HABIB: Hello, captain. Compliments of the airfield manager and would you please be able to settle the bill?

MARTIN: Yeah, actually I'm the captain. Hello, the one in the captain's seat wearing the captain's hat?

HABIB: Sorry, captain. Compliments of the—

MARTIN: Yes, all right, give it here. [Flips pages] Yes, fine, fine . . . what's this?

HABIB: Um . . . fire truck.

MARTIN: Yes, I can read what it says. What does it mean?

[Another click of the camera.]

DOUGLAS: Really, Arthur? The front page of MJN's brochure, our gallant captain quibbles over a bill?

MARTIN: I'm not quibbling, Douglas, it says three hundred dollars here for a fire truck!

HABIB: I don't know, it's not usual.

DOUGLAS: Oh really? [lowers voice] You know, Martin, these little airfields do rather try things on sometimes if they suspect you're not . . .

MARTIN: What? Not what?

DOUGLAS: Oh . . . nothing.

HABIB: Would you like to speak to the airfield manager, sir?

MARTIN: Yes, yes I would. I'll show him whether or not I'm . . . that.

[In the airfield manager's office. MARTIN knocks on the door, then enters.]

AIRFIELD MANAGER: Entrez! Ah, you have.

MARTIN: Hello. Are you the airfield manager?

AIRFIELD MANAGER: I am, yes. Yves Jutteau, at your service. You must be the captain.

MARTIN: No, actually I'm the—oh. Yes. Martin Crieff.

YVES JUTTEAU: I am delighted to meet you.

MARTIN: Are you French?

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! My cover is blown. Originally, yes—you're not the only ones who used to have an empire, hein? Now, will you take café?

MARTIN: No, I don't want coffee.

YVES JUTTEAU: Oh, then café you shall not have. So, how can I help you?

MARTIN: It's this bill.


MARTIN: Well, firstly you're charging us for three hours on stand—we've only been here, what, one hour fifty-four?

YVES JUTTEAU: I regret we charge per hour. Or per part of per hour.

MARTIN: That's still only two hours.

YVES JUTTEAU: You're expecting to leave within the next six minutes? You'd better, if I may attempt an idiom, get your skates on? [Chuckles] But yes, by all means, between friends, let us call it two.

MARTIN: Thank you. Now, this weather report. Eighty dollars?


MARTIN: It's a very glossy folder—

YVES JUTTEAU: Thank you.

MARTIN: —containing one sheet of A4 printed off from Google Weather Maps!

YVES JUTTEAU: You would prefer two sheets?

MARTIN: Which says it's going to be hot!

YVES JUTTEAU: It is going to be hot.

MARTIN: D'you really think that's information worth eighty dollars?

YVES JUTTEAU: Without it, you cannot take off! So . . . I would say so. Anything else?

MARTIN: Yes, actually. Fire truck.


MARTIN: Well, what do you mean, "fire truck"?

YVES JUTTEAU: I can find no words that describe a fire truck better than "fire truck".

MARTIN: But why are we paying for it?

YVES JUTTEAU: Because you called it up! You radioed you were landing with a hydraulics failure. We mobilized the fire truck.

MARTIN: But we don't pay for that!

YVES JUTTEAU: Then who pays for that?

MARTIN: Nobody pays for that! It just happens!

YVES JUTTEAU: I don't know what your fire trucks do, Captain, but our fire trucks do not "just happen".

MARTIN: Oh, I suppose you think I'll believe anything, do you?

YVES JUTTEAU: I'm sure you will believe almost nothing. However, if you pass me the bill, I will send you an amended one.

MARTIN: You're taking off the fire truck?

YVES JUTTEAU: No, I'm taking off the third hour. The fire truck remains.

MARTIN: Right. Well, I've made my point, anyway.

YVES JUTTEAU: You've made it. I have disagreed with it; I'm going to do nothing about it.

[On the tarmac at Douz airfield. The Scottish national cricket team is singing rather loudly inside the minibus. Something about whiskey and a loch.]

CAROLYN: Gentlemen! Gentlemen! I don't mind the singing, but if you could possibly all keep to the inside of the minibus, that would be super!

RANDOM SCOT: On yer bike, hen!

CAROLYN: Thank you! A very spirited bunch, aren't they? I was expecting the Scottish cricket team to have a certain dour quality.

CAPT. JESSOP: Well, you can't blame them. They're just delighted to be getting home. We all are. Really, on behalf of my crew, I can't thank you enough. We are so, so grateful.

CAROLYN: Oh, [chuckles] thank you! Really, really there's no need.

CAPT. JESSOP: Oh, but there is! We can't get over it—it's so public-spirited of you! So generous!

CAROLYN: [slams on the brakes] What? How do you mean, "generous"? What's "generous"?

CAPT. JESSOP: Well, to come and rescue us like this.

CAROLYN: Well, it's my job, isn't it? I mean, I'm getting paid.

CAPT. JESSOP: Oh, really? Who by?

CAROLYN: What? By your firm, Panda Charters!

CAPT. JESSOP: Er . . . no, I don't think so. I mean, they went bust, you know. You did know that, didn't you?

CAROLYN: No, I did not. They omitted to mention it.

CAPT. JESSOP: That's why we're here. The airport manager wouldn't let us leave without paying our bill. Oh incidentally, don't cross him, whatever you do—he's a right bastard.

[Back in the flight deck.]

DOUGLAS: Ah, Martin. How did you get on?

MARTIN: Oh yes, pretty well. They're just sending out the new, amended, lower bill now.

DOUGLAS: Gosh, well done.

MARTIN: Oh, it's nothing really, just a matter of showing them who's in control. He's a nice enough fellow—really, he's just one of those little men who've got a little job and so have to spend the whole time proving they're just as good as anyone else, you know the type.

DOUGLAS: It rings a faint bell.

[CAROLYN enters.]

CAROLYN: Right! Come on then, let's get out of this hellhole! [camera click] ARTHUR WILL YOU PUT THAT DAMN THING AWAY BEFORE I MAKE YOU EAT IT!

ARTHUR: Sorry, Mum.

DOUGLAS: Everything tickety-boo, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: No, it's not. We're doing this whole damn trip for free! Panda Charters went bust! That's why their plane looks like that! The airfield manager stripped it of parts in lieu of payment.

DOUGLAS: Goodness, that's hard-core.

[The door opens again, this time more politely.]

HABIB: Excuse me, Monsieur Jutteau's compliments, and the revised bill.

MARTIN: Right! [Flips pages] A-ha! Two hours! See, not so hard-core as all that, not when stood up to.

DOUGLAS: And the fire truck?

MARTIN: [quickly] Doesn't matter about the fire truck.

CAROLYN: What about the fire truck?

MARTIN: Nothing! Doesn't matter. [To HABIB] Right, do you have a card reader, or . . .

DOUGLAS: Er, what's this? Safety infringement penalty: six hundred dollars?

MARTIN: Wha—What?!

HABIB: Yes, er, the manager anticipated you might like to talk to him about that. He is on the radio.

MARTIN: [switches the radio on] "Safety infringement"—what safety infringement?

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! Good afternoon, Captain Crieff. I hope you are enjoying your free hour?

MARTIN: Never mind about that—what's this about a "safety infringement"?

YVES JUTTEAU: Sadly, there was a small one.

MARTIN: What, it wasn't there on the last bill!

YVES JUTTEAU: Indeed not. But when you did me the honour of visiting my office to complain about the last bill, you crossed the apron, did you not?


YVES JUTTEAU: And were you wearing the regulation yellow reflective safety vest?

MARTIN: I . . .


MARTIN: But it's a deserted airfield. In the middle of the day. In the Tunisian sunshine!

YVES JUTTEAU: Nevertheless, it is wise to be in good habits.

MARTIN: Well, we're not paying for it.

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah! Then we have a problem.

MARTIN: Yes, we do.

CAROLYN: No, we don't.

MARTIN: Carolyn! I'm dealing with this—it's under control!

CAROLYN: Shut up, Martin. We're already thousands of pounds down on this trip; all I want to do is get home. Monsieur Jutteau, hello! So sorry about the misunderstanding. Yes, of course we'll pay the bill.

YVES JUTTEAU: Well, if you'll just give your credit card to Habib there—

[sounds of transaction]

MARTIN: Well, well done, m'sieu! It's a good week for you, isn't it? Bankrupted these guys, fleeced us—hope you feel really big now!

YVES JUTTEAU: "These guys"? The gentlemen from Panda Charters? They are with you?

MARTIN: Yes they are, poor sods, because you wrecked their business and pulled their plane to shreds—

CAROLYN: Martin, that is enough!

MARTIN: Hello? Are you listening to me?

YVES JUTTEAU: I'm sorry, I was just . . . arranging something . . .

CAROLYN: Hello? The payment's gone through.

YVES JUTTEAU: Ah, excellent. Thank you. Regrettably, though, as you are carrying Panda Charters's crew and passengers, I must hold you responsible for their debts. I'm afraid you may not leave until they are paid off.

MARTIN: Oh now, come on!

CAROLYN: How much?

YVES JUTTEAU: Twelve thousand three hundred and six dollars. But let us call it twelve thousand.

MARTIN: Yes, well, nice try, but that's entirely illegal.

YVES JUTTEAU: That's debatable.

MARTIN: Unfortunately we don't have time to debate it, must be off now, see you in court. Maybe.

YVES JUTTEAU: Of course, what is not debatable is whether it is illegal or not to take off without clearance from air traffic control. It definitely is.

MARTIN: Who's gonna stop us?

YVES JUTTEAU: No one is going to stop you. But when you get home, your national authorities (whom I would notify) would immediately suspend your operator's licence. [Suddenly there is the sound of trucks moving outside.] Also, I was playing for time. I am going to stop you. By parking the fire truck across your nose—although on the upside, this time I will not charge you for mobilizing it.

[The door opens.]

ARTHUR: Chaps, I was just taking a look outside, and—


[In the passenger cabin.]

LACHLAN: Hey. [snaps fingers] Hey, pal!

ARTHUR: Yes, sir? How can myself be of assistance to yourself?

LACHLAN: When are we gettin' this thing moving? (RANDOM SCOT: Aye!)

ARTHUR: Ah. I do regret to inform yourselves that the delay that's going on currently is still currently ongoing. But we will keep you fully informed as to the developments of any developments as they develop.


CAPT. JESSOP: Well, how about breaking out the drinks trolley?

LACHLAN: [Chuckles] Heh, aye, nice one.

ARTHUR: Unfortunately no drinks service is scheduled at this time due to technical difficulties. We do apologize for any inconvenience.

[A collective grumbling from the Scottish National Cricket Team.]

LACHLAN: What technical difficulties stop you givin' out drinks?

ARTHUR: Mum's locked the cupboard.

[Back in the flight deck]

CAROLYN: [enters] All right, I've had a look. As well as the fire truck, he's put a tractor behind us and a baggage truck on each side.

DOUGLAS: Okay, so we can't go backwards or sideways.

MARTIN: Explain to me how we were planning to go sideways.

DOUGLAS: All right then, Captain, I'll just sit back and watch you masterfully sort it out, shall I?

CAROLYN: I don't have time for your stupid squabbles—this is serious.

MARTIN: Yes. Yes, you're right. We can find a way out of this. The most important thing is to keep cool. [On cue, the air conditioning shuts down.] What was that?

DOUGLAS: That was the air conditioning dying, Captain. But carry on—you were just telling us about the most important thing.

MARTIN: But why? Why? I mean, why? Why?

DOUGLAS: Four excellent questions. And the answer to all four is: because we've run out of fuel.

MARTIN: What? We can't have done! I mean, we'd just refueled!

[A furious knocking from the passenger cabin, with a yell of "Hey! What's happened to the air conditioning?"]

CAROLYN: [switches radio on] Monsieur Jutteau?

YVES JUTTEAU: Good afternoon.

CAROLYN: We seem to find ourselves a little light on fuel. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?

YVES JUTTEAU: Yes, we have retrieved our fuel from your aircraft in lieu of payment.

CAROLYN: Monsieur. Without fuel our air conditioning unit will not work!

YVES JUTTEAU: Oh dear me. What an unintended consequence. May I suggest, then, that you work fast to resolve the situation? The temperature is currently 35 degrees—that's in the shade, not in a metal tube in direct sunlight.

MARTIN: All right. All right, Carolyn, I've been looking at the chart. There's an airstrip at Kebili only about 20 miles away. If we could just get as far as there we could refuel properly.

CAROLYN: Well that's great. Problem solved! All we need now is enough fuel to get there, our enemy to give us takeoff clearance, and for that fire truck to disappear. It's simple.

[The door opens to the sound of the Scottish national cricket team cheering, bottles clanking, and ARTHUR stumbling in, with the door hitting him]

ARTHUR: (I'll tell them! O—Ow!) The passengers have a few requests.


ARTHUR: Um, well, more beer. They were very clear about that. Look, to make sure I remember they wrote it on . . . me.

MARTIN: Oh yes, so they did.

ARTHUR: Yeah. So beer, definitely; um, water, some of them are keen on; uh, and . . . an umpire.

MARTIN: An umpire?


MARTIN: Why do they need an—

[A slam, then a cheer from the Scots.]

ARTHUR: Ah, they started without.

CAROLYN: All right!

ARTHUR: Mum! Mum, you can't go in there.

CAROLYN: Why not?

ARTHUR: They're . . . they're in their swimming trunks.

CAROLYN: In their swimming trunks?

ARTHUR: Yes, it's got really hot in there . . . and in here. I mean, it's just hot generally. I think it's because we're so near the Sahara Desert.

CAROLYN: Yes, all right. Very well. Martin, you and Do—where is Douglas, anyway?

[The sound of breaking glass, and a yell of "HOWZAT?" from DOUGLAS in the passenger cabin, to applause.]

CAROLYN: (bing bong!) Douglas, I wish to have a little word. Under the wing. Now.

[A chorus of Ooooohs from the passenger cabin.]


DOUGLAS: Carolyn, what can I do for you?

CAROLYN: What are we going to do?

DOUGLAS: I don't know. What are we going to do?

CAROLYN: No, seriously, what are we going to do?

DOUGLAS: I really don't know.

CAROLYN: Of course you know!

DOUGLAS: You've slightly lost me.

CAROLYN: You always know! You've always got some sort of trick or loophole or knows someone who knows someone! What is it this time?

DOUGLAS: No, really, this time I'm stumped. But don't you worry, Martin's in control—I have no doubt he'll come up with something.

CAROLYN: I thought so. This is all because Martin took the landing off you, isn't it? So now you're not going to help?

DOUGLAS: Martin needs no help from the humble likes of I. Martin is—

CAROLYN: Oh stop it! Just stop it, will you? I need you to get us out of this. This is serious!

DOUGLAS: No it isn't! As it happens I don't even have the answer. I mean, the fire truck's easy enough, but not the rest of it. But in any case we both know that if you really want to get away, you can.


DOUGLAS: By swallowing your pride and paying the man!

CAROLYN: What with?!

DOUGLAS: With a little tiny bit of all your money!

CAROLYN: I don't have any money!

DOUGLAS: Oh, don't be ridiculous. I've seen your house, I've seen your car. I am currently standing underneath your aeroplane.

CAROLYN: I had money. Eight years ago I had money after the divorce. More money than I knew what to do with. And as you say, an aeroplane. More aeroplane than I knew what to do with. But then I started to run an air charter business. Now I have three mortgages on the house! I have to keep the car because I have to have something smart to pick clients up in, and I have to keep the plane because—well, the minimum number of planes for a viable airline is one. But I don't have any money. Why do you think I'm always going on at you two for how much you spend—do you think I enjoy it?

DOUGLAS: Well, yes.

CAROLYN: Yes, well, all right, I do a bit. But also literally every trip we do has the potential to bankrupt the company, and this one could bankrupt me.

DOUGLAS: Gosh. I had no idea.

CAROLYN: No. Well.

DOUGLAS: But if you've been losing all this money, why have you kept on doing it all these years?

CAROLYN: Because I am the Chief Executive Officer of MJN Air. It's a good thing to be. It's better than . . . [sighs] a little old lady.


CAROLYN: So, will you please return to the aircraft, put on the rest of your clothes, sit down nicely with Martin, and think of something.

DOUGLAS: Right you are.

CAROLYN: Oh, and Douglas? Your solution to the fire truck? You're not thinking "set fire to the manager's office so it has to move", are you?

DOUGLAS: I wasn't, no, but I am now—you up for that?


MARTIN: Douglas, that's—that's a terrific idea! Would it work?

DOUGLAS: It worked when old G.W. and I did it with that snowplow in Vancouver, but I don't really see how it helps us, I'm afraid—we still won't have any fuel, and we still won't have clearance to take off.

ARTHUR: Could we go and get fuel in jerry cans and bring it back here?

DOUGLAS: If we had about eight years, yes.

ARTHUR: We can't steal back the fuel he took off us.

DOUGLAS: I'm sure he's locked it away somewhere.

MARTIN: Besides, it no longer meets the quality criteria.

DOUGLAS: Martin, that really doesn't matter. I think we can give ourselves licence to bend the rules just a tiny bit in this situation.

MARTIN: [scoffs] Like you need an excuse! The man who hasn't bought a gallon of petrol since—oh.


MARTIN: Well, just a thought—if you could feed a rabbit on a tiny bit of cheetah food, can you feed a cheetah on lots of rabbit food?

DOUGLAS: Oh! You mean—

MARTIN: What do you think?

DOUGLAS: Yes. I like it!

ARTHUR: Yeah. That might. Just. Work.

MARTIN: What might?

ARTHUR: I don't know. I just. Like. Talking like this.

DOUGLAS: It's a great idea, Martin, but it'll only give us a couple of dozen litres at most. We couldn't even fly the 20 miles to Kebili on that, even if we had clearance.

[A pause as everyone mulls over this snag in an otherwise perfect plan.]

ARTHUR: Could we just drive there?


ARTHUR: . . . Sorry, Skipper.

MARTIN: Sorry, Arthur, I know you're trying to help, but no, we can't just taxi our plane out onto the main road and drive it 20 miles to Kebili!

DOUGLAS: Why can't we?


DOUGLAS: The deserted main road—straight road through the desert—

MARTIN: No, we couldn't! . . . Could we?

DOUGLAS: Arthur! You know what you are? In a word?


DOUGLAS: Brilliant.


[The cabin door opens, and the Scottish National Cricket Team cheers]

DOUGLAS: All right, boys, Martin and I have done the sneaky bit, and I don't think anyone saw. Now, the less sneaky bit, which people will see. So it's all about speed—we get out, we do it, we get back in. Understand?


DOUGLAS: Are you ready?


DOUGLAS: Then onwards for England, Harry and St George!


DOUGLAS: Sorry, sorry, sorry. For Scotland, cricket, and St . . . Wisden.

[The SCOTS cheer]

[The team + DOUGLAS and MARTIN pile out of the plane and rush to the trucks.]

DOUGLAS: Places, places! Okay, remember—bend from the knees and not from the back. And three, two, one, lift! [the sound of machinery creaking from the collective effort of the S.N.C.T.] . . . Yes! It's coming, it's coming! . . . Yes, and . . . Carry, carry . . . bit more, nearly there, nearly there . . . and drop! [Crash!]

AIRPORT WORKER: Hey! Heeeeeeeey!

DOUGLAS: Back on the plane, back on the plane! Go! Go! Go! Go!

MARTIN: [out of breath] Engine bleeds on, auxiliary power off—

DOUGLAS: Martin, we don't have time for the checks.

YVES JUTTEAU: [over the radio] Golf Tango India, what do you think you're doing?

DOUGLAS: Hello there, Douz tower. Sorry about this, love to stay but we've just remembered a pressing engagement.

YVES JUTTEAU: You cannot take off! You are forbidden from taking off!

MARTIN: Duly noted. I'm afraid your little fire truck was slightly in our way. Hope you don't mind us moving it.

YVES JUTTEAU: And how far do you think you'll get with no fuel?

CAROLYN: [innocently] No fuel?

MARTIN: Whatever gave you that idea?

CAROLYN: We’ve got fuel.


MARTIN: Let's just say next time you want to starve an aircraft of fuel don't surround it with four petrol-driven vehicles.

YVES JUTTEAU: You . . . you stole the petrol from my trucks?!

DOUGLAS: As the voice recorder in this flight deck will forever record for posterity: Absolutely not! . . . Wouldn't it have been clever if we had, though?

YVES JUTTEAU: It doesn't matter. You do not have clearance! Repeat, do not have clearance to take off!

DOUGLAS: Take off?

MARTIN: Who said anything about taking off?

CAROLYN: Wouldn't dream of it! Against the law, you know.

DOUGLAS: Plus we've nothing like enough fuel to get us there! . . . In the air.

MARTIN: On the ground, though—

CAROLYN: Taxiing down the long, straight, deserted highway to Kebili—

DOUGLAS: We should be fine!

MARTIN: Right hand down a bit, Number One! And be sure to indicate when joining the road.

DOUGLAS: Right hand down a bit it is, Captain!

YVES JUTTEAU: You CAN'T take that on the road! It's . . . it's against the law.

DOUGLAS: Is it? I'm not sure it is. What do you think, Carolyn?

CAROLYN: It might be. Not very well up on the Tunisian Highway Code.

DOUGLAS: Well, I'll tell you what, Yves old chum, if you can get the Sahara Desert traffic police mobilized in the next forty minutes or so, I suppose we'll find out. Bye-eee. [switches radio off]

MARTIN: Do they drive on the left, or the right in Tunisia?

DOUGLAS: I think when they're driving on an empty highway through the desert in an aeroplane, they probably drive pretty much wherever the hell they like.

[Back in the passenger cabin, the Scottish National Cricket Team, drunk on booze, air-conditioning, and adrenaline, could be heard mangling the lyrics to "The Self-Preservation Society".]

DOUGLAS: Two miles to go, Martin.

MARTIN: Thank you, Douglas.

DOUGLAS: Do you want me to drive for a bit, darling?

MARTIN: No thanks, dear. You know I get carsick in the passenger seat. Are they ready for us in Kebili?

DOUGLAS: They are.

[The flight deck door bursts open and a drunk ARTHUR stumbles in.]


ARTHUR: [giddily] Today . . . has been the most fun . . . I have ever had . . . in my life!

DOUGLAS: Good. Arthur, is it possible you've had a little drink?

ARTHUR: I have had . . . a little drink. Oh, and look! I think I've found the photo for the brochure!

DOUGLAS: Oh, yes? Let's see. . . . Ah. Martin?

MARTIN: Hmm, striking.

DOUGLAS: So, Arthur. In your quest to find the one image which perfectly sums up MJN Air and everything it stands for, you've elected for a shot of twelve Scottish cricketers in the Sahara Desert wearing swimsuits and carrying a fire engine.


DOUGLAS: Hmm. The awful thing is, I sort of know what you mean.



( 13 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 15th, 2011 04:39 am (UTC)
The first [????] is actually not 'can [????]' but 'control', I think.

Anyway, thanks for this! :D
Apr. 15th, 2011 04:43 am (UTC)
You're right! *changes* Thank you! :D
Apr. 15th, 2011 04:47 am (UTC)
I think the first ??? is "normally I control it"

The song the Scottish cricket team is singing appears to be "Cambeltown Loch." (I put 'whiskey I would drink you dry,' the only words I could make out, into Google, and the song was the first link. Oh Google, you're kind of scarily accurate.)

Absolutely no idea what the Random Scott says, though.
Apr. 15th, 2011 04:54 am (UTC)
Oooh, perfect :D I couldn't even make out the words enough to Google them. Thank you! :D
Apr. 15th, 2011 04:57 am (UTC)
Listening to entirely too much Irish punk music may have helped with the comprehension there. XD The Random Scott's line is driving me crazy, though, I feel like I can aaaaalmost figure out what he's saying... but no.
Apr. 15th, 2011 05:07 am (UTC)
I confess the long delay in posting was mainly because of the Scottish National Cricket Team :P (Any Scotspeople in the house?)
Apr. 15th, 2011 06:29 am (UTC)
Brilliant! :D

("Yves old chum"! That bit was driving me crazy with the not figuring it out.)
Apr. 15th, 2011 06:43 am (UTC)
Thanks - I've edited the main list to include this one!
Apr. 15th, 2011 08:03 am (UTC)
I'm fairly sure that the Random Scot says, "On yer bike, hen!"
Apr. 15th, 2011 10:18 am (UTC)
Oh, good! *changes* Thanks! :D
Apr. 15th, 2011 09:44 am (UTC)
Minor typo correction:

DOUGLAS: Sorry, sorry, sorry. For Scotland, cricket, and St... Wisdan.

It should be Wisden -with an 'e'. It's the name of the cricket alamanac



CAROLYN: Gentlemen! Gentlemen! I don't mind the singing, but if you could possibly all keep to the inside of the minibus, that would be super!

RANDOM SCOT: On yer bike, hen!
Apr. 15th, 2011 10:18 am (UTC)
Thanks! *changes*
Apr. 16th, 2011 01:11 am (UTC)
I love this episode. I mean, I love all of them, but this one is right up there as one of my faves. Thanks for transcribing! ♥
( 13 comments — Leave a comment )