GK: So your bachelor uncle Schmendrick died and to your amazement he left you his entire estate (WOW) including his home in Easthampton (SURF) and his Maserati (SFX) and his purebred sheep (SFX) and also a slip of paper with a chemical formula (HMMMM) that turns out to be a recipe for turning ordinary tap water into high-octane gasoline (O MY GOSH) which you sell to Mobil Oil for fifty-seven billion dollars (WHOOPEE) and you leave Peoria behind ---- (TR: Goodbye, trailer park. Goodbye, lawn mowing job. Goodbye, my lowlife friends. I am off to Manhattan!!!!) And they come to the airport to see you off (CRANKY MURMURS), their little red eyes green with envy. (JET TAKEOFF) And off you go in your personal jet, and land iin Newark and you come into Manhattan through a secret pneumatic tube reserved for the wealthy (SFX) and you are whisked away by limo (SFX) to your co-op and up in the elevator (SFX) to your penthouse apartment on the 45th floor (DOORS OPEN, FOOTSTEPS ON MARBLE)---

TR: Ahhhhh. Lovely. How many bedrooms?

FN (BRIT): Six, milord.

TR: And a steam room.

FN (BRIT): Indeed, milord.

TR: And a commodious terrace?

FN (BRIT): Of course.

TR: I love that word, "commodious." And how many obsequious servants?

FN (BRIT): As many as you like, sir. Here is your humble maidservant, Gwendolyn.

SS (COCKNEY): Oh milord, my liege, my patron, I do beseech you to forgive me my inadequacies as I seek to give you good service in any way I possibly can. My life is yours, milord. Step on me, if it give you pleasure. Kick me, abuse me, I am a mere minion, a worthless peon here for your pleasure, a ------ (SLAP)

FN (BRIT): All right, that's enough cringing and whinging for now. Off to the scullery. And finally, milord, your dog. (WOOF)

TR: A dog. Wow. Beautiful long red hair. What kind of dog is he?

FN (BRIT): A purebred Irish setter. (WOOF)

TR: Irish setter. Great.

FN (BRIT): So ---- if you're okay, the servants and I will leave you here to enjoy the place by yourself.

TR: Oh. Okay.

FN (BRIT): If you need anything, this red button here will summon assistance.

GK: And you look around at your vast, beautiful apartment. The magnificent balcony (SLIDING) overlooking the entire city. (DISTANT TRAFFIC BELOW).

TR: Wow.

GK: The designer furniture. The artworks on the wall.

TR: Wow. Renoir. Cezanne. Van Gogh. They look original. (SCRATCHING) By gosh, they are original. (FOOTSTEPS) And here's the kitchen. Garbage disposal. (SFX) Dishwasher. (SFX) Blender. (SFX) Built-in vacuum. (SFX) And here's the refrigerator. (DOOR OPEN) I feel like having a beer but all they have is Guinness. What in the world? Yecchhh. Guinness stout. (DOG GROWL) Irish beer. Disgusting. (DOG SNARL) What is your problem? (DOG SNAP) Ouch!

GK: The dog lunges at you. You try to placate him.

TR: Look---- I love Irish literature---- Irish music---- the Chieftains---- love 'em. (DOG BARKS)

GK: And the dog drives you into a corner and you try to escape out onto the balcony (DOOR SLIDES, DOG SNARLS) and the dog is right behind you-----

TR: I loved "Dancing At Lughnasa" ---- I love Roddy Doyle ----- (DOG SNARLS)

GK: And the dog drives you up onto the balcony railing and you look down at the street forty-five floors below---- (TRAFFIC BELOW)

Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of Rhubarb Pie......


Rhubarb pie or Rhubarb wine

It does wonders for your mind.

Turns a sad sack into a poet,

The secret of the good life as we know it.