Work Text:
STEPHEN and HUGH stand front and centre of a darkened stage, lit by a single spotlight; STEPHEN is wearing his lovely pink button-down with khaki trousers, and HUGH has on a light blue shirt with trousers of charcoal grey. They smile at the audience, shifting on their feet and nodding occasionally as the applause and cheering dies down. STEPHEN holds in his hands a folded letter.
STEPHEN:
Ah- thank you, ladies and gentlemen; thank you very much. As you know, we here at-
STEPHEN draws inverted commas in the air with his fingers, and he and HUGH speak simultaneously.
STEPHEN AND HUGH:
‘A Bit of Fry and Laurie’
STEPHEN:
-often receive letters of sorts- missives, if you will- from you, the viewing several.
HUGH:
(nodding) Quite.
STEPHEN:
We recognise that our humour can occasionally be, ah, ‘on-edge,’ as it were, or ‘avant-garde.’
HUGH:
Sometimes controversial.
STEPHEN:
(nodding in agreement) Yes, yes, quite. Um, and so it is perfectly natural to expect a violent reaction from the twenty or so people who do in fact watch our programme from time to time. I have here a letter (he brandishes it), which-
HUGH:
(breaking in, passionately) It is a brutal protestation of everything that Stephen and I stand for. It decries our morals, our comedy, our looks-
STEPHEN:
(interrupts, looking rather appalled) Does it really?
HUGH:
(grinning) No, not really.
He turns to the audience, leaning forward and grinning roguishly.
HUGH:
But it got your attention, didn’t it?
STEPHEN:
(stage-whispering, scornful) We’re on a stage in front of them, Hugh, we’ve already got their attention. (He returns to his normal voice) Anyway, this is a letter that we have received. I have not yet had the opportunity to read the letter in question, but m’colleague assures me that it’s something you all would certainly enjoy. So, without further ado:
He unfolds the letter and holds it up before himself, perusing it quickly; HUGH looks on with anticipation. STEPHEN clears his throat and begins to read. As the letter progresses, he grows increasingly red of face and occasionally shoots accusing glances at HUGH, who merely smiles innocently.
STEPHEN:
‘Dear “A Bit of Fry and Laurie,”
I must say, I am quite highly disappointed by your television programme. I tune in every week to watch it, and though I find the writing sharp and witty and the humour excellent, I feel nonetheless that I have been cheated. Where, might I ask, are the promised bits of Fry and Laurie? Laurie I don’t care so much about, but I was particularly looking forward to receiving my bits of Stephen Fry. Since you have neglected to provide me with any bits at all, I think it not unreasonable to ask that I request the bits of Stephen Fry I should like sent to me. Eg: the naughty bits.
Yours sincerely,
Here STEPHEN pauses, turning slowly to give HUGH a look of the utmost venom before pronouncing the name at the end of the letter
STEPHEN:
-Hugh Laurie.
HUGH stifles a giggle and gives the audience a conspiratorial glance.
HUGH:
I’m afraid you’ve got that wrong there, m’colleague- that’s ‘Huge Lorry.’
STEPHEN:
(scoffing) Don’t give credit where it’s not deserved, boy.
HUGH:
(pointing to the letter) No- ‘Lorry’ as in um, a motor vehicle, not-
STEPHEN: Oh! Right, of course; I thought for a moment that you were implying, well...
He trails off, raising an eyebrow and chuckling a little. HUGH joins in, shaking his head ruefully and laughing.
HUGH:
Oh, no; heavens, no. I shouldn’t think, well... you know.
STEPHEN:
(with a smirk, and a twinkle in his eye) I certainly do, Hugh me old mucker.
HUGH:
(with an air of ‘let’s get back to business’) Indeed you do, m’colleague. However, I personally think our Mr. Lorry’s complaint is certainly a valid one, and something that all of us here at ‘A Bit of Fry and Laurie’ should do our best to address. With that in mind, I shall be donating my ears, my left leg from the thigh to the ankle, and the two little toes off my right foot.
STEPHEN:
(blinks at Hugh in disbelief) Pardon?
HUGH:
Those are the, ah- (chuckles lightly) bits of myself which the viewers of our programme will be receiving.
STEPHEN:
I see.
HUGH:
And what about you, m’colleague? It is, after all, ‘A Bit of Fry and Laurie.’
STEPHEN:
(distractedly) Yes, quite... Well, ah, I suppose as Mr. Lorry has specified my genitals, it would be only sporting of me to give them to him. (he shrugs) As for the rest of our viewers-
He turns to the camera, clasping his hands in front of himself and adopting the presence of a television advertiser
STEPHEN:
-you shall be receiving my charmingly bent nose, both my kneecaps, and a clump of hair which m’colleague accidentally singed off the back of my head this morning.
HUGH:
Right!
STEPHEN:
Right. So, m’colleague, if you’ll permit me to depart for the briefest of brief moments-
STEPHEN disappears offstage, and HUGH blinks after him, clearly not sure what he is doing. After a moment, he turns apologetically to the audience.
HUGH:
Well, I am sorry about this. Um, I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute- ah! M’colleague!
STEPHEN has returned, holding in his hands a brown cardboard box of medium size, labelled on one side with a messily scrawled ‘S. Fry.’ HUGH looks curiously at it.
STEPHEN:
I notice, Hugh, that you are looking at this box which I am holding in my hands with an expression of interest writ across your ordinarily dumb and expressionless visage.
HUGH:
I must confess a certain amount of interest, yes.
STEPHEN:
Well, ladies and gentlemen, these are my genitals. Yes, that’s correct- in this very box. Um, and I’d like to take this occasion to give them to m’colleague, who has taken the time and effort to write an eloquent letter and to come up with an entirely unconvincing pseudonym with which to do so.
He turns to
HUGH and proffers the box
STEPHEN: It is my very great honour, Hugh.
HUGH gives the audience a sidelong look, but takes the box from STEPHEN. He squints at it as he does, and opens the top, peering inside. He blinks, looks at STEPHEN, and then back into the open box.
HUGH:
Um, Stephen; it’s empty.
STEPHEN:
(with a laugh) Well, thank god for that! I should have some problems, I think, if I really kept my genitals in a cardboard box.
HUGH:
So...
STEPHEN:
It’s a symbolic gesture, dear.
HUGH:
Oh! So, uh, after the show...?
STEPHEN:
Precisely.
HUGH fidgets for a moment, there is some nervous coughing from the audience, a few scattered laughs. STEPHEN smiles reassuringly. Abruptly, HUGH turns to him.
HUGH:
Or we could-
STEPHEN:
(nodding hastily) Yeah, let’s.
With that, the two of them dash off stage, wearing small, smug grins- HUGH tosses the empty cardboard box behind him where it lies for a moment in the empty spotlight. There are a few snickers from the audience. The light goes out. End scene.