PART V

LIVE ORGAN TRANSPLANTS

[A photo of the Emperor Haile Selassie hangs on the wall of a
suburban house. Upstairs 'Hava Nagila' is being played on a lone
violin. The door bell rings.]

Mr Bloke: Don't worry dear, I'll get it!

[He opens the door.]

Mr Bloke: Yes!

First Man: Hello, er can we have your liver...?

Mr Bloke: My what?

First Man: Your liver... it's a large glandular organ in your
abdomen... you know it's a reddish-brown and it's sort of -

Mr Bloke: Yes, I know what it is, but I'm using it.

Second Man: Come on sir... don't muck us about.

[They move in.]

Mr Bloke: Hey!

[They shut the door behind him.]

[The first man makes a grab at his wallet and finds a
card in it.]

First Man: Hallo! What's this then...?

Mr Bloke: A liver donor's card.

First Man: Need we say more?

Second Man: No!

Mr Bloke: Look, I can't give it to you now. It says 'In The Event
of Death'...

First Man: No-one who has ever had their liver taken out by us has
survived...

[The second man is rummaging around in a bag of clanking
tools.]

Second Man: Just lie there, sir. it won't take a minute.

[They throw him onto the dining room table and, without
any more ceremony, start to cut him open. A rather sever
lady appears at the door.]

Mrs Bloke: 'Ere, what's going on?

First man: He's donating his liver, madam...

Mr Bloke: Aarrgh... oh!... aaargh ow! Ow!

Mrs Bloke: Is this because he took out one of those silly cards?

First Man: That's right, madam.

Mr Bloke: Ow! Oooh! Oohh! Oh... oh... God... aargh aargh...

Mrs Bloke: Typical of him. He goes down to the public library -
sees a few signs up... comes home all full of good intentions.
He gives blood... he does cold research... all that sort of
thing.

Mr Bloke: Aaaagh... oh... aaarghh!

Mrs Bloke: What d'you do with them all anyway?

Second man: They all go to saving lives, madam.

Mr Bloke: Aaaaargh! Oh... ow! Oh... oh my God!

Mrs Bloke: That's what *he* used to say... it's all for the good of
the country, he used to say.

Mr Bloke: Aaaargh!... Ow! Ooh!

Mrs Bloke: D'*you* think it's *all* for the good of the country?

First Man: Uh?

Mrs Bloke: D'*you* think it's *all* for the good of the country?

First Man: Well I wouldn't know about that, madam...we're just
doing our jobs, you know...

Mr Bloke: Owwwwweeeeeeeeeh! Ow!

Mrs Bloke: You're not doctors, then?

First Man: Oh!... Blimey no...!

[The second man grins and raises his eyes as he digs
around in the stomach. They laugh. A head comes round the
door... It's a young man.]

Young Man: Mum, Dad,... I'm off out... now. I'll see you about
seven...

Mrs Bloke: Righto, son... look after yourself.

Mr Bloke: Aaargh... ow! Oh... aaargh aargh!

Mrs Bloke: D'you er... fancy a cup of tea...?

First Man: Oh well, that would be very nice, yeah... Thank you,
thank you very much madam. Thank you. [Aside.] I thought she'd
never ask...

[She takes him into the kitchen... shuts the door. She
bustles about preparing the tea...]

You do realise... he has to be... well... dead... by the terms
of the card... before he donates his liver.

Mrs Bloke: Well I told him that... but he never listens to me...
silly man.

First Man: Only... I was wondering what you was thinking of doing
after that... I mean... will you stay on your own or... is
there someone else... sort of... on the horizon...?

Mrs Bloke: I'm too old for that sort of thing. I'm past my prime...

First Man: Not at all... you're a very attractive woman.

Mrs Bloke: [laughs a little] Well... I'm certainly not thinking of
getting hitched up again...

First Man: Sure?

Mrs Bloke: Sure.

First Man: [coming a little closer] Can we have your liver then?

Mrs Bloke: No... I don't want to die.

First Man: Oh come on, it's perfectly natural. Only take a couple
of minutes.

Mrs Bloke: Oh... I'd be scared.

First Man: All right, I'll tell you what. Look, listen to this -

[A man in pink evening dress emerges from the fridge.]