Guest House Paradiso

(Snoring)

You bastards...

(Alarm bleeps)

(Grunts and groans)

(Alarm stops)

(Alarm rings)

(Teasmaid whistles)

Aaaarrggghh! Aaaarrrgghhh!

(Scream echoes)

Eddie!

Eddie! Another bloody day.|Time to get up.

(Eddie's voice) 'Righty-dokey, skip.'

(Bones creak)

(Tyres screech)

Ow! (Squeals)

Oh!

Eddie!

Eddie?!

Come along. It's the early bird|that catches worms.

(Eddie) 'Running all the way.'

(Record scratches)

(Whispers) Damn.

(Door opens)

(Woman) Well, really.

Good morning, room four.|This is your personal alarm call.

Yes, I know. I'm just giving|you time to wake up

before your proper alarm call in...|two and a haIf hours.

That's right. Exactly|when you booked it. Good morning!

Oh! Mr Johnson and MS Harding.

The common-law couple.|I trust you slept well?

Rather a rough night, actually.

Oh...well, the perils of adultery.

And you're not too tired to make|your way downstairs for breakfast(!)

I trust you both washed?

Actually, the water was cold.

That's no reason not to wash.|We are British, you know?

We invented cold showers|to stop people masturbating.

Oh! Oh! Perhaps that's why you're|so upset about the lack of hot water!

(Horn honks)

(Hacking cough)

Nearly home.

(Dings bell)

Ah, there you are, Eddie.

Here are some bills. You handle them.|I don't want to get my dabs on them.

Righty-dokey, skip.

Have you cleaned your teeth|this morning?

- Could I have a word?|- Take your hand off me.

I haven't got my hand on you.

I've got security cameras,|so it's on film.

- I've got the evidence.|- I brushed your arm.

- You're a liar, Mr Jones.|- Look, Mr Twat...

It's pronounced "Thwaite".

Well, it's spelled Twat.|T-W-A-T. TWAT!

Keep your voice down, please.|We have normal guests as well.

Now, if you'll allow me|to finish what I was doing

before you so rudely interrupted...

Ahem.

There. Now, what is all|this silly fuss about?

I'm trying to get some breakfast|and there's no waiter.

Shirt and tie,|wandering around with food.

Hard to spot, I know. Have you been|to a restaurant before?

Yes, but he's not there.

Pascal!

Pascal!

See what I mean?

Pascal!

Chef, you seen Pascal?

Pascal!

(Board creaks and gas hisses)

Chef, I said fix this.

- It's a fire hazard.|- You f***ing bastard!

Very good, Chef, carry on.|ls breakfast well under way?

Look, may we order straightaway?!

Yes, yes, yes!|The waiter will be here directly.

Oh!

Ahh, morning, Mrs Foxfur.

Morning, Twat.

Eddie! What are you doing?

I'm just...filing the bills.

Oh. Have you seen Pascal?

Uh, no.

You'lI have to help|serving breakfast.

I'll phone the psychiatric hospital|to see if he's there again.

Righty-dokey, skip. I'm your man.

(TV) '..still searching|for Gina Carbonara,

'the ltalian filmstar who disappeared|before her wedding yesterday,

'much to the dismay|of her intended husband,

'the ltalian playboy and ex-racing|driver Gino Guiseppe...'

'You English f***ers!'

'..who is currently fighting|extradition back to ltaly

'to face drug smuggling charges.

'Ms Carbonara shot to fame|portraying a prostitute

'with a heart of gold in the film|"The Last Butterfly Of Summer".

'The film,|with its controversial sex scenes,

'took $160 million worldwide and|won her an Oscar for Best Actress.'

(Zip)

'Her car was discovered|near Beachy Head...'

(Chef) Why you no pay me?!

(Sobs)

It's three months since you bring me|here and still you don't pay me!

And why you sack Pascal?!

Get back in there or I'll tell|lmmigration about your visa!

Yes - visa!

And I didn't sack Pascal. I was about|to phone the hospital about him.

Remember your condition, darling.|Use your breathing technique,

Wine?

It's a bit early, isn't it?

What about an aperitif, then?|Gin, scotch, poteen?

What? No, thank you. What we'd|really like is some breakfast.

Oh.

If he does show up, give him|some quick electric shock treatment

and send him back!

I eat your bacon!

I eat your trifle!

I drink your sherry!

And what I can't eat...|I put in the waste disposal!

You big, fat bastard make me sad!

(Grinding and smashing)

I can particularly recommend|this one.

- Which one?|- This page with all the wines.

It's a bit early for us.

What are you doing up, then?

Too early for wine, Eddie.|Go and help Chef.

Help Chef? But you know|Chef and I don't get on.

This is an emergency -|I'll do Pascal's job out here,

you do Pascal's job in there, OK?

OK.

Now, what would you like?

(Banging and shouting)

(Banging and crashing stops)

Now, then. What would you like?

Chef's hurt himself.

How badly?

lndescribably badly. He hit his head|on a frying pan 17 times.

(Eddie screams)

- You cook.|- I can't.

- Nor could Chef.|- Right.

- Now, then...|- (Banging)

(Sighs) How can I help you?

Where are your eggs from?

Hen's vaginas.

Ah...

We'd like two|full English breakfasts,

freshly squeezed orange juice,

coffee for one - ground not instant -

tea for one,|lightly toasted wholemeal bread,

and don't overcook the kidneys.

Boiled egg as usual, Mrs Foxfur?

Oh, yes, please.

Thought so.

Excuse me, I'll deal|with important guests first.

Oh, for Christ's sake!

Ahem.

Pheeb! One boiled egg.

Pheeb! Hello?

'Pheeb! Hello?'

Yes, hello. One boiled egg.

'Pheeb! Hello?'

Yes, hello!

'Pheeb! Who is it?'

Pheeb! It's Mr Thwaite.

'Pheeb! He's not here.|Can I take a message?'

Look, it's me! Stop embarrassing me|and just take the order!

(Eddie yelps)

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