6 people waiting at a gilded lift. They hear a strange sound, and turn
to see what it is. In fact, it's coming from inside the lift. When
the lift doors open, out shoots the Mini through the double doors and
back into the street.
EXT. KNIGHTSBRIDGE. DAY.
Out in the street, BEAN is faced by an accident. There are flashing
lights, a crumpled car, suggestions of hurt passengers. BEAN looks
EXT. THE STRAND. DAY.
An Ambulance roars through the traffic. It reaches its hospital, turns
off, and there, right smack behind it is the Mini. Cut in to see BEAN,
smiling broadly. He whizzes into Trafalgar Square, maybe even across
it, sending pigeons and tourists flying, and parks directly outside the
statuesque National Gallery. Of course, there's not another car there.
Just the Gallery and the mini.
EXT. NATIONAL GALLERY - DAY
BEAN gets out of the car, takes out his bag - thinks a little, opens it
and takes out a "Doctor on Call' sign. To re-enforce it, he puts a
bone in the back window and a skull of the front seat. Happy with the
arrangement, he re-locks the padlock and sets off smiling up the big,
stairs to work.
As he does so, pan up the building, and into the window of the room
where that Board meeting was taking place.
INT. NATIONAL GALLERY. BOARDROOM - DAY
Look, I don't hate the man but ...
I know, Gareth. It's the mental strain he inflicts on us all. How is
A grand gentleman, MR MORRISON, pipes up.
Heels got the feeling back in his fingers - but his hands are still
Mmmm, and how far are we with the computer, Hubert?