home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
HomeWare 14
/
HOMEWARE14.bin
/
misc
/
lostmont.arj
/
HAGGLE.FLY
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1990-01-22
|
5KB
|
132 lines
**** The Haggling Scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 7/28/86 by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS107124@YUSOL ) ****
(After Brian has escaped the Centurions, he runs off towards the crowded
market square. At one end of the market there is a speakers' corner, with
many strangely bearded and oddly dressed Prophets attempting to attract an
audience. The noisiest or the most controversial are clearly doing best at
attracting Passers-by. A strange figure with a rasta hairstyle, covered in
mud, and with two severed hands on a pole waves wildly at the audience.)
Blood & Thunder Prophet: ...and shall ride forth on a serpents' back, and the
eyes shall be red with the blood of living creatures,
and the whore of Babylon shall rise over the hill of
excitement and throughout the land there will be a
great rubbing of parts....
(Beside him, another Prophet with red hair, none the less fierce, is trying to
attract some of the Blood & Thunder Prophet's audience.)
False Prophet: And he shall bear a nine-bladed sword. Nine-bladed. Not two.
Or five or seven, but nine, which he shall wield on all
wretched sinners and that includes you sir, and the horns shall
be on the head ...
(In front of each Prophet is a Roman Guard, clearly bored but there to break
up any trouble. Brian races into the market place. A bunch of Romans are
searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down Passers-by.
Brian appears near a rather dull little Prophet, who is standing underneath
the high window that backs out of Matthias' house, the revolutionary HQ.)
Boring Prophet: And there shall in that time be rumours of things going
astray, and there will be a great confusion as to where things
really are, and nobody will really know where lieth those
little things with the sort of raffia work base, that has an
attachment that will not be there.
(Across the square the Romans appear, searching. Brian spots Harry, the beard
seller, and moves towards his stall, an idea forming in his mind.)
(The Boring Prophet drones on and on:)
At this time a friend shall lose his friends's hammer and the
young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their
fathers that their fathers put there only just the night
before....
(Brian runs up to Harry the beard seller's stall and hurriedly grabs an
artificial beard.)
Brian: How much? Quick!
Harry: What?
Brian: It's for the wife.
Harry: Oh. Twenty shekels.
Brian: Right.
Harry: What?
Brian: (putting down 20 shekels) There you are.
Harry: Wait a moment.
Brian: What?
Harry: We're supposed to haggle.
Brian: No, no, I've got to ...
Harry: What do you mean, no?
Brian: I haven't time, I've got to get ...
Harry: Give it back then.
Brian: No, no, I paid you.
Harry: Burt!
(Burt appears. He is very big.)
Burt: Yeah?
Harry: This bloke won't haggle.
Burt: (looking around) Where are the guards?
Brian: Oh, all right ... I mean do we have to ...
Harry: Now I want twenty for that ...
Brian: I gave you twenty.
Harry: Now are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
Brian: No.
Harry: Feel the quality, that's none of yer goat.
Brian: Oh ... I'll give you nineteen then.
Harry: No, no. Do it properly.
Brian: What?
Harry: Haggle properly. This isn't worth nineteen.
Brian: You just said it was worth twenty.
Harry: Burt!!
Brian: I'll give you ten.
Harry: That's more like it.
(outraged) Ten!? Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying
grandmother...Ten!?!
Brian: Eleven.
Harry: Now you're getting it. Eleven!?! Did I hear you right? Eleven? This
cost me twelve. You want to ruin me?
Brian: Seventeen.
Harry: Seventeen!
Brian: Eighteen?
Harry: No, no, no. You go to fourteen now.
Brian: Fourteen.
Harry: Fourteen, are you joking?
Brian: That's what you told me to say.
(Harry registers total despair.)
Tell me what to say. Please.
Harry: Offer me fourteen.
Brian: I'll give you fourteen.
Harry: (to onlookers) He's offering me fourteen for this!
Brian: Fifteen.
Harry: Seventeen. My last word. I won't take a penny less, or strike me
dead.
Brian: Sixteen.
Harry: Done. (He grasps Brian's hand and shakes it.) Nice to do business
with you. Tell you what, I'll throw in this as well. (He gives
Brian a gourd.)
Brian: I don't want it, but thanks.
Harry: Burt!
Burt: (reappearing rapidly) Yes?
Brian: All right! All right!! Thank you.
Harry: Where's the sixteen then?
Brian: I already gave you twenty.
Harry: Oh yes ... that's four I owe you then. (starts looking for change)
Brian: It's all right, it doesn't matter.
Harry: Hang on.
(Pause as Harry can't find change. Brian sees a pair of prowling Romans.)
Brian: It's all right, that's four for the gourd -- that's fine!
Harry: Four for the gourd. Four!!!! Look at it, that's worth ten if it's
worth a shekel.
Brian: You just gave it to me for nothing.
Harry: Yes, but it's *worth* ten.
Brian: All right, all right.
Harry: No, no, no. It's not worth ten. You're supposed to argue. "What?
Ten for that, you must be mad!"
(Brian pays ten, runs off with the gourd, and fixes the beard on his face.)
Ah, well there's one born every minute.
***** Here endeth Part Eleven of Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
***** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or *****
***** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... *****
***** Dwayne A. X. E. E. (<CS107124@YUSOL>) *****
R; T=0.25/1.35 22:04:01