astvinr (astvinr) wrote,

Horrorman Act II


A milk van is seen coming along the road.


Mr Gaby is washing and talking to his wife, who is out of shot.

GABY: He actually wanted me to have him certified. As bold as brass.

WIFE: Are you going to ?

GABY: I've been had once before. He had me certify the previous head of the history department... and now HE'S the head... that seems a bit fishy doesn't it?

WIFE: Well surely you're not a complete dummy... do you just do everything Hopper tells you? How come YOU'RE the headmaster and not him?

GABY: That's what I'm worried about my dear. If I keep giving in to him it could be my head next. I told him I wasn't going to do it.

WIFE: Goitre has been acting bloody odd just lately though.

GABY: That's no reason to have him carted away. It's half a dozen of one and six of the other... Goitre and Hopper, the two of them together... sometimes I wonder if they're doing it deliberately... plotting against me. I’ve got to put my foot down... there'll be no more certification without ratification from the school governors. Oh my WIFE: What is it?

GABY: The school governors, they're coming today at two. I'll have to shave.

WIFE: I should think so too... you've got a face like a door-mat.

GABY: (sotto voce) At least mine doesn't have "WELCOME" written all over it.

With soap in his eyes, Gaby looks for his watch.

GABY: MY GOD! the time. I've got to go but...

He feels his chin.

He then notices an aerosol can on the shelf.

GABY; I wonder.


GABY: Could try.

He shuts his eyes and sprays the aerosol over his face.


We see the door of the bathroom ajar.

We see the back of Mr Gaby, standing by the washbasin, in his pyjama trousers.

GABY: Darling.

WIFE: What?

GABY: Can I borrow your mascara for a moment please ?

WIFE: What do you want that for ?

GABY: I think my eyebrows have just fallen off.


It is later in the morning.

Goitre's room is decorated variously

with maps of the Holy Land,

and displays of canes.

Goitre is sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging his little legs.

His style of dress is somewhat haphazard.

His jacket is dirty and ill-fitting.

His trousers are far too big for him,

as is his jumper, and, unbelievably, his tie.

GOITRE: You! Over there: Yes, you boy. Well, you can stand up can't you.

The boy does so.

GOITRE: You seem to find something rather amusing don't you ? I'm sure we'd all like to hear the joke. Well ? What's the matter ? Cheshire Cat got your tongue ?

BOY: No sir.

GOITRE: Well then. you can wipe that silly grin off your face and open your mouth.

The boy is not ‘posh', or indeed all that well spoken.

He is wearing jeans and a leather-jacket and looks a bit or a ‘tough’.

He is however, bright.

BOY: Yes... sir.

GOITRE: Well then what was the little joke all about ? I believe we were discussing the Bible's opinion of the immortality of the human soul were we not ?

BOY: Yea sir.

GOITRE: Were you and your little pals able to find something to giggle about in that ? Eh ? Does the younger generation find the subject of life after death a bit of a rib-tickler eh ?

BOY: Yes sir.

GOITRE: What the hell do you mean ‘Yes sir‘

BOY: Well, it's all a bit of a joke, sir.

GOITRE: Is it really? You want a tight ?

BOY: No sir, it's just that...

GOITRE: Yes. Come on, out with it, what the hell are you rattling on about?

BOY: Well sir, the Big Bang theory of the universe is now a proven fact, and therefore we know that the universe had a define beginning and by the lava for Physics it must have a finite end, either collapsing in on itself if its point of origin lies entirely within its own gravitational radius, or expanding for ever until the atoms themselves decay into a uniform energy sink. Either way the universe must have an end, and we know it had a beginning, therefore everything in it is finite. Since we did not exist at the time of the Big Bang, if we did have souls, they would be just like us. a product or a finite universe... and if our souls did not exist inside the universe there wouldn't be any point in considering them anyway. do how can a finite cosmos have infinite articles inside it... how can the sum of the parts be GREATER than the whole, I mean, it's absurd... sir.

GOITRE: (white hot) Are you taking the Mickey ? ARE YOU TAKING THE MICKEY ?

BOY: No sir... I'm just saying that Gestalt doesn't work in reverse, as a deductive process it's a one-way system only.

GOITRE: Mr Hopper's put you up to this... don't think I don't know.

BOY: No, honest sir.

GOITRE: Who d'you think you are boy ? God Almighty ?

The bell for the end of the lesson rings.

GOITRE: If I didn't have a staff meeting now I'd give you a fight round the bike-sheds... I'd, I'd... (SCREAMS).

The class leave very fast.

PAGE -10-


Some members of staff are going in.

Mr Hopper makes his way down the corridor, groping the girls.

He bumps into Mr Goitre.

GOITRE: Mind where you’re going

HOPPER: Hello there Mr Goitre. Tell me, you little tub of lard, is that a mole on your face or is it your nose ?

GOITRE: Why don’t you go and shave... you look like a rat peering through a lavatory brush.

HOPPER: We are a great wit today I must say.

GOITRE: Must you ? If I said that of you, I'd only be half right.

They jostle each other on the way in,

both trying to be first through the door.


A small circle of chairs have been

drawn up, with Gaby complete with

greasepaint eyebrows, sitting at the head.

Some of the teachers have been getting

plastic cups of coffee from a trolley

and return to their seats, passing in front

of the camera.

A pall of smoke rises from pipes, cigarettes

GABY: Everyone all right ? Now, I think we might begin by starting with the... er, starting at the, with the, er...

Shuffles wildly through his agenda.

GOITRE: (Voice only) Headmaster.

GABY: (To secretary) This agenda seems to start on page five...

We see a brief shot or Hopper stirring his coffee with a plastic spoon.

He takes the spoon out of the cup and shakes the excess coffee from it.

GOITRE: (Angrily dabbing his face with a handkerchief) Headmaster !

GABY: Has anyone got another, er...

GOITRE: (Shouting) Headmaster!

GABY: Yes Mr Goitre ?

GOITRE: Headmaster, this is too much. Mr Hopper is flicking spoonfuls of tea in my face.

HOPPER: I am not...


HOPPER: (Sotto Voce to Goitre) You little creep.

GABY: Just settle down please Mr Hopper.

HOPPER: I wasn't doing anything... and anyway, I’m drinking coffee, not tea.

GABY: I hardly think that matters

HOPPER: And even if I were flicking tea or coffee, I don't see why Mr Goitre should be worried about a few more stains when there’s enough of his breakfast on that jumper to feed the five thousand.

GOITRE: Do I really have to suffer this schoolboy wit, Headmaster ?

GABY: Indeed not Mr Goitre. If you please Mr Hopper. Now then...

Hopper pokes his tongue out at Goitre.

GOITRE: Headmaster!

GABY: Please Mr Goitre, we have started, if you have any further points can you save them until the end of the meeting. Thank you. Now then, Miss Jones, could you read the minutes of the last meeting?

Miss Jones: Minute one, Mr Goitre complained that Mr Hopper was flicking spoonfuls of sugar at him.

GOITRE: Yes and if I might say...

Gaby: (foreseeing trouble) Yes, quite, well, I think we can skip the minutes and go to me main business, which is the school extension. Now, as you may know, the school needs a new wing, but there is not sufficient money available for major building work. The council have come up with a compromise offer, and they have very generously agreed to give us the use of the multi-storey car park in the town. Apparently it's underused and losing money so rather than close it they've decided to convert it into a class-room complex... Has anyone got any comments to add ?


PSY: I would like you to oust your mind back to the first time you were arrested...

GOITRE: Yes...

PSY: It was in Nineteen Seventy-seven I believe...

GOITRE: You've got it...

PSY: The charges were brought by the manager of your local branch of Roscoe's Supermarket.

GOITRE: I remember.

PSY: You had been biting the heads off the chickens on the Christmas food counter.

GOITRE: They were ropey old birds too. I wouldn't have bought any.

PSY: Why were you biting the heads off at Goitre, sir

GOITRE: I had to ... to keep my hand in... you understand...

PSY: Yes ...

GOITRE: I bid to practice, . . for the classroom I mean...

PSY: Yes...

GOITRE: When I was in Roscoe's. I wasn't ‘In Loco Parentheses'.

PSY: You mean you could come unhinged between the brackets

GOITRE: Are you trying to be funny '?

PSY: No, I...

GOITRE: It wasn't a joke... those birds had seen in the freezer room... I could have got frost-bite I had to decapitate forty-seven before my jaw was supple enough... before I had the technique.

PSY: Did you use the technique ?

GOITRE: Not at that time, no... . I was saving it for--~ someone.

PSY: Who ?

GOITRE: I'd rather not say thank you.

PSY: Fair enough. There's something important I want to ask you, and I want you to think very carefully about this... have you ever had any fantasies about murder ?

GOITRE: Oh yes!

PSY: You have...

GOITRE: Many times! When I think of some of my pupils...

PS1’: that form did your thoughts towards them take

GOITRE: Well, I must say, they were pretty brutal.

PS4: They were brutal to you '?

GOITRE: No... I was brutal to them.
PSY: That figures. I believe I am right in saying that at one time you said that the way you wished to teach your pupils was to instil a feeling of terror into them, is that not true?

GOITRE: That is correct.

PSY: That is the way you wished to teach

GOITRE: If I might say…

PSY: Yes...

GOITRE: As far as my methods of teaching were concerned…

PSY: Ah yes…

GOITRE: As you know…

PSY: I do know very well indeed…

GOITRE: I am a very strict disciplinarian...

PSY: Absolutely right... .

GOITRE: ... it's the only way... that they can learn.

PSY: I know his methods were very different from yours, Mr Goitre, sir, but wouldn’t you agree that Mr Hopper’s end was the same, that he wanted his pupils to fear him, and thereby respect him?

GOITRE: He wasn't so tough.

PSY: But his aims were
GOITRE: Well...

PSY: Is it not true that Mr Hopper's pupils were more terrified of him than yours mere of you ?

GOITRE: Well, I don't know about that.

PSY: Maybe you don't know now, maybe you thought you knew then. Might it not be true to say that you were JEALOUS of Mr Hopper ?



Goitre returns after the staff meeting to find the same class he had before the break. He spots the boy who was a nuisance before

GOITRE: What ? You again boy ? What's your game?

BOY: It's a double lesson sir, we always come back after the break.

GOITRE: Oh, do you indeed. Well, well, Well. We'll soon who's the toughest now won't we... we'll see, we’ll see who's right.

He points to a boy sitting by the window

GOITRE: You boy... shut these window up ... and you, come on, give him a hand... let's have all these windows shut up... that's right, now, you, lock the's the key.

Goitre goes over to his cupboard and opens the door.

GOITRE: (To The BOY) We’ll see now won’t we ? Still think you haven't got a soul do you boy ? Is that door locked?

The child comes back with the key.

GOITRE: Right... let's have some fun.

Goitre takes a car tyre out of his cupboard and lifts it onto his desk.

He then takes a blow-torch out of a

drawer in his desk and starts pumping

the paraffin.

GOITRE: Oh yes, there’s only one way to deal with an unruly class. You’ve got to take firm action... fight fire with fire.

Goitre lights the blow-torch and tries to set the tyre on fire.

GOITRE: (To the boy) You... This’ll make you feel a bit more mortal won't it ?

The tyre begins to smoulder.

The class looks on horror-stricken.

Goitre opens out a New Testament and fans the fumes wildly, trying to set the tyre alight. He is grinning like a madman.

This is not difficult for him. He IS a madman.

GOITRE: (To the boy) You... Wittgenstein over there... let’s hear you explain this away in terms of abstracts.

The blow-torch fizzles and dies on him.

Goitre shakes it angrily.

GOITRE: Run out of paraffin eh ? Well. I'll be back, don’t you worry.

He goes out of the room, not forgetting to lock the door behind him.

He goes downstairs.


Goitre knocks at the door.

Mr Squid, the curator comes past.

SQUID: There's no bleedin’ point in you knockin'. I'm not in there.

Mr Squid is a short, stocky man.

His face is yellow and wrinkled, through excessive sunbathing and the up-draught of nicotine from endless high-tar cigarettes.

He sports a skin-head hair-cut which since his hair is naturally blond (or rather mousy) hides the fact that his hair-line is receding.

He has circular, rimless glasses, with half-inch thick lenses.

GOITRE: Ah., Mr Squid.

SQUID: What's your trouble ?

GOITRE: This blowtorch has left me in a rather embarrassing Matthew Twenty-five, one to thirteen situation. I need some more paraffin.

SQUID: Ain't got none. Could give you some methylated spirit though.

GOITRE: That'll do.

Squid takes a meths bottle out of his overall pocket, unscrews the top,

wipes it on his sleeve and offers it to Goitre.

Goitre tops up his torch with it.

By coincidence they happen to be standing outside Mr Hopper’s room.

Hopper emerges and sees Genre at once.

HOPPER: Why, Mr Goitre, I'd like to have a word with you.

GOITRE: Yes, well I'm busy, you’re going to have to wait, aren’t you ?

HOPPER: Oh no I'm not.

Hooper drags Goitre into his room.

Squid stares after.

HOPPER: (Disappearing) (To Squid) Get lost!

Squid tugs his forelock and stumbles off


Needless to say Hopper’s room is spotlessly neat.

Hopper drags Goitre in under his arm.

GOITRE: Don't you grope me.

Hopper drops him.

HOPPER: Now see here. What's the big idea of trying to make me look a fool in front of the H.M. all the time. What are you up to ?

GOITRE: I wouldn't have said anyone needed to try to make you look a fool... it couldn't be more obvious.

HOPPER: You think you're bloody clever don’t you ?

GOITRE: Well, I know you're not.

HOPPER: Oh yes. Well at least. I’m not a religious nut like you. I don't go around like a chicken with its head cut off, squawking about the Lord God All-bleeding-Mighty

GOITRE: You should watch what you're saying.

HOPPER: In case the bogey-man gets me for not saying my prayers ?

You really believe all that garbage don’t you? When you’re not actually trying to kick me in the ribs you’re always on some evangelical toot... Praise the Lord and Pass the ammo...

Points at blow-torch.

HOPPER: What’s this ? Going to make things hot for me ?

GOITRE: Well, I don’t think it’s any of your business how I spread the word.

HOPPER: Oh, I beg to differ… I think it IS. I’m beginning to think your attitude to me and your religious mania are very closely linked indeed. What's the idea ? You think I’m some sort of a little red devil ? Religious Education! You're living in the past, man.

GOITRE: And you're bang up to date with history I suppose.

HOPPER: Do you think that every back-bite you inflict on me brings you a step nearer your God ? A little closer to plucking a harp on a candy-floss cloud in dream-land ? Eh ? That what you think ? Saving up for a halo are you ? Putting down a deposit for a plot of real estate in dry-ice and sunshine country? God, you must be naïve. You know I'd really like to meet your God Goitre... I really would. I've heard he's a really snappy dresser... has a with-it line in Gold Lamé Kaftans, open toed sandals... and doesn't he have a Million Kilowatt light-bulb in place of a head ? Sounds a really big character.

Can't wait to meet him.

GOITRE: Well, you're going to meet him sooner then you were bargaining on!

Hopper has been laughing but the smile freezes on his face.

We see him from Goitre‘s point of view.

He shuffles back as Goitre advances on him.

Very fast cut, less than a second, to the Christmas food counter at Roscoe's Supermarket all those chickens dangling in a row...

Then back to Hopper.

Hopper backs away.

The picture turns a lurid red.


Horrible scream is heard... then silence.

Fade out.

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