[Tim, Richard and Paul are asleep by the campfire. Tim is muttering in his sleep. Above Tim's head, an image of Bob appears.]
Bob: What's two plus two, Timothy?
Tim: Five.
Bob: Wrong!
Tim: Two plus two is five. I read it in a book...
Bob: You're brainless, Timothy. You've got no brains.
Tim: I've got no brain. I've got no brain...
(Richard is also dreaming.)
Richard: (sniffing) Smells like something dead in here...
Jesse: (Richard's voice) Why did you kill me, Richie?
Richard: I can't help you. I'm scared.
Jesse: That's because you've got no courage...
Richard: I've got no courage...
(Paul is dreaming, too. Two figures in a surgery are standing over Paul. They make a large incision and remove a hunk of meat.
Dr X: This is the thing makin' all the trouble - his heart.
Dr Z: He's better off without it -wait, he's coming 'round.
Dr X: That's impossible...
Paul: My heart! My heart! You've stolen my heart.
(All the boys wake up, screamimg.)

Newsreader: Shitsu Tonka. Stay Tuned. U.S. President, Donny Osmond today officially launched International Be Kind to Black Crippled Haemophiliacs with Speech Impediments Week. In his speech President Osmond urged greater community sympathy and surprised his audience by saying that he too had once been a black crippled haemophiliac with a speech impediment. A spokesman later issued a clarifying statement saying that the President was full of shit.

[The boys are still sitting in their bed at the campfire. They are toasting marshmallows.]
Paul: I just had a terrible nightmare. (Feels for his heart) My heart! My heart! Where's my heart?
Tim: Well I had bad dreams too...
Richard: Me too.
Paul: Yeah, but that's only because you made such a pig ot yourself at dinner last night.
Tim: Yeah, pig, pig! Hey Paul, what's pink and fat and dangles from trees?
Paul: Could it be a pig pretending to be a peach! What goes pink, blue, pink, blue, pink, blue...
Tim: A pig with a plastic bag over its head choking to death as it rolls down a hill. What has six legs and stinks in the middle? We do!
Paul: Get stuffed both of you.
Richard: Paul, you're a heartless brute. Tim, you're a brainless prat.
Paul: Richard, you're a gutless moron (he takes a mouse out of his pocket).
Tim: What does prat mean?
Paul: (hunched over the fire) How dare you call me heartless? I'm a very sensitive man capable of feelings and deep emotions. I love all of God's creatures (he spikes the mouse on a stick and starts roasting it over the fire).
Richard: You've got no reason for being heartless. But I have a reason for having no courage. I had the most dreadful dream. I dreamt about my dead Siamese twin brother, Jesse.
Tim: Jesse?... Siamese twin?... brother?... dreamt?... I?... about?... my?
Richard: Yes, Tim, we were joined at the nose. We used to dance together cheek to cheek... not because we wanted to... but because we had to. Finally one night I severed him from my body with a carving knife as he slept. But being a Siamese twin, the lungs and heart and kidneys were on my side so he died. The only thing he took with him when he died was my courage. Ever since then I've been too scared to look at my own image because I see Jesse's face.
Tim: Losing a relative can he hard. I know. (Stands) My cousin Valmay died a few years back. She was only eighteen, which means she must have had her mid-life crisis at the age of nine. Which would explain what that bus load of men in rubber suits were doing hanging around the backyard. Just before she died, the doctors chopped off the bottom half of her leg. They figured, 'Well she's gonna die anyway. We might as well try and save somethink,'... so they could whack it in the fridge and whip it out one day and say, 'There it is, Valmay's twitching shin!'.
Paul: (Stands and demonstrates) I bet she was hopping mad.
Tim: She's dead Paul!... (Paul sits) Anyway, we went to visit her in hospital just before she died. She was scratching the air beneath her knee. Mum said 'Oooh, Valmay, you poor teary little piece of fairy toast, what are you doing, darl?' And Valmay said, 'Mum, I'm scratching my phantom leg.' The weird thing was, boys, she didn't know where it was... (points) It might be here tonight, Richard.
Richard: I'm scared, can we turn the lights on?
Paul: Don't ruin the atmosphere. We're out camping. We've got a nice campfire, stacks of marshmallows.
(Richard takes the remote and turns the lights on, and the night sound effects stop.)
Tim: Richard, you spoil everything. This is the first Boy Scout Jamboree to take place on the bottom of the ocean. It's a Bivouac... Bivva drink, bivva campfire, bivva wack!!! Turn the lights off. (The lights go off and the night noises return) Dip dip dip...

[Flacco has escaped from his box by tying sheets together and lowering himself down through the keyhole and into Tim's ear.]
FLACCO Do you ever get that feeling that you've just lobbed into an enormous earhole? I fear I am losing my marbles, my plot has lost it... all of my eggs are in a strange basket. The square of my hypotenuse os nowhere near the square of my other two sides. Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, but the cow has failed in its first attempt at a moon landing... that's one small step for a cow, one giant leap for the beef industry... Moooooooo!

Oh, cruel fate, I have made my escape but my mind is indeed a prison. I must rest at once, perchance I should come right, at dawn's first light, and with a bit of luck, at the crowing of the cock, my mind will cease to run amok. Whew - at least I haven't lost my capacity for lousy poetry!

[The boys are asleep again.]
Paul: (wakes up wakes Tim and Richard) Wake up, I just had another terrible nightmare!

I had this dream that I was back at school in Tangawarra. There was one Catholic priest who took all the classes, his name was Father Muck - he was a great Catholic priest, but a lousy human being. But he loathed me because my mother used to spoonerise his name, so I'd say 'Hi - Father Muck', she'd say 'Hi - Mother F...' and that was it for me, that's why they forced me to play football. Give us the boy and we'll give you parts of him back!

God it was horrible. He was reading a poem by Alexander Pope called 'The Rape of the Lock'. You know what he got me to play?... The lock! I had to force me head between the McCaffey brothers' bums - two bums like the rear-end of Mack trucks. It was horrible! And if they'd had a late night on the chilli it was like the '1812 Overture' through a muffled arse stereo.

Now one morning when I went along to training - I'd been up on the cherry brandy all night - I didn't see just two bums, four cheeks, in saw a whole phalanx of bums stretching from one side of the oval to the other. I thought stuff it, nose to the grindstone, I'll pick the gap. And I pushed and I don't know where I ended up but it was bloody dark. I sat therefor a eternity and then I met this boy, a first-former named Virgil, he took my hand and said, 'You're late'.

He led me to a campfire and sure enough there was Father Muck, dancing naked through the flames and he had tied two marshmallows to his testicles and each time they cooked, he flicked them to a boy and said, 'Here Joe, eat this'. The strange thing is, every time I have a marshmallow, I think of Father Muck (eats a marhmallow and eats it, then proceeds to pick hair out of his teeth. Tim and Richard have fallen back to sleep).

FLACCO Am I dreaming, is it real? Am I dreaming, is it real? Am I dreaming, is it real? (He says this ten times in a singsong voice.)

[Bob watches Flacco leave, then steps out from behind a bush and takes a deep breath.]
Bob: I love the smell of napalm on a Mormon! (Talking into a radio) Division 16 I got a positive APB on Charlie. I'm goin' in for a slice of the action. Oh boy! I'm gonna light this place up like a Christmas tree... Let's kick some serious Pinko Butt... Over... Division 16 do you read? Over. (Gunfire is heard, then Vietnamese voices come onto his radio, ending with "Yankee go home!"). Alpha! Bravo! Mayday! Mayday! Tora! Tora! Tora!... (He drops the radio) We'll fight them on the beaches! We'll fight them on the beaches! We'll fight them in the trenches!... It's not over till the fat lady sings! This on's for the gypper! Slide Di Maggio! Slide! Slide! Slide! (He talks into the radion again) Alpha, Bravo, Uncle, Charlie, Aunty M! Toto!!... Romeo, Victor, Oscar, Walter Kronkite!... Ya there, Walt? (Walter Kronkite's voice is heard: 'This is Walter Kronkite signing off from CBS News') Hey Walt, it's Bob... I'm back!

[Tim and Richard are asleep. Paul is scared and tries to wake them up. He hears howling noises]
Paul: Wake up guys, wake up. I'm frightened. It's scary out here. (He hears screeching noises. He blows up and pops a paper bag. They wake up with a fright. Paul pretends he had been asleep too.)

I was in a beautiful deep sleep. What's the matter? Ya scared of the night noises or something? Gutless!
Tim: I'm sick of camping... I wanna go home. (He pulls out the remote and turns on the lights) What's on the television?
Richard: Let's have something to eat.
Paul & Tim: Pig! Pig! Pig!

Voice Over: Tonight! On 'Hasbeens of Yesteryear' please welcome the kking of regional television Bob Downe!
Bob: Hi Swingers! Tonight's Hasbeens are the DOUG ANTHONY ALLSTARS, (shows individual photos) Tim, Paul and What's-his-name (shows picture of Scamp) who disappeared ten years ago from the popular TV series 'The Bad Gag'... Where are they now? Who knows? Who cares? Actually I have a confession to make. I've slept with all three of them. Let me tell you, they're lousy lays... Tim, he's like all the pretty ones, he just lies there; Richard, soft, sensitive, musical Richard, it was lovely, we just talked all night; and Paul... he was like a sticky old jackrabbit. In the end I let him hump my leg while I read TV Times, and let me tell you, that's the only copy I ever got through from cover to cover.

(Richard freaks out at the image of himself on TV and runs off to his room.)

[Tim and Paul are sitting aroudn the table in their dressing gowns.]
Tim: Why did he leave?
Paul: Because he hates me, that's why.
Tim: Paul, he likes you.
Paul: You may as well leave me too, everyone leaves me 'cos they hate me. You'll leave too, I know it, you'll leave me.
Tim: Look Paul we don't hate you.
Paul: Yes you do and I know why...
Tim: Oh God, don't start this again. Act your age.
Paul: Age! You hate me 'cos I'm a little old aged pensioner. (He pokes Tim with a walking stick) Funny man, funny man. You just hate we little old aged pensioners. So grow up ye self you young whippersnapper. Treat us old folk like dirt. Scruffy sex dole bludger...
Tim: Paul, you're as old as I am.
Paul: Smart-alec-know-it-all kid. When I was you age I knew it all too. But Mr Smart Arse, if I'm not old how come I've lost all my teeth by gum...?
Tim: Paul, you still have a full set of...
Paul: Teeth? Teeth? If I've got a full set of teeth, why am I eating marshmallows? You hate me 'cos I'm an old man, I've got no teeth and because... I've eaten all the marshmallows.
Tim: You've eaten all the marshmallows? This is ridiculous.
Paul: Don't hit me, don't hit me... But you hate me most of all because of my...
Tim: Oh God.
Paul: My... hunchback... ugly old hunchback... throw rotten fruit at the hunchback... Mr Quasimodo... Esmerelda... the bells, the bells... she made me deaf you know...
Tim: Paul, we don't hate you...
Paul: Hey? What? Whhat? I can't hear you. The bell, the bells.
Tim: This is so childish.
Paul: What? You hate me because I'm a little old man, who's lost all his teeth by gum and because of my ugly hunchback, but you hate me most of all because... I've lost control of my bodily functions.
Tim: You've done what?
(Paul looks down and begins to cry. Liquid pours out of the front of his trousers. Tim walks off.)
Paul: That's it, leave me, I knew you would.

Richard goes into his room and see a draped mirror. He tentatively removes the cloth the reveal a normal reflection. He turns away, then he hears 'Richard, Richard!'. He turns back to see Jesse in the mirror.]
Richard: Jesse!
Jesse: Yes, it's me! Gutless! I've always had the courage to do the things you never could. And I still have the courage, boy. And there's only one way you can get your courage back... Do you know what it is? Do you know what you must do? You must kill the other two.
Richard: No! Noooooo!
(Richard pummels the mirror, but it is only his reflection again. He collapses and sobs.)

(Tim is lamenting the fact that he doesn't have a brain. He hits himself in the head.)
Tim: You know, if I had a brain, I'd probably stop hitting myself...

(Tim knocks himself out with a hammer.)

[Flacco delivers a solioquy to a brain in a cage.]
Flacco: Ah, poor bird, what was thy crime that they would take away thy wings? Thou has been hittest with the ugliest of sticks. Wait... my mind plays tricks... Why, this is no bird... thou art my mind... Oh mind of mine, come home to roost. But wait, these are not my thoughts, these are the thoughts of a degenerate, albeit a gorgeous one... Out, out, vile vessel of past imaginings, take flight sweet bird of youthful memory. Ah, lost youth, I remember it well...
(Bob resides in Tim's subconscious. He appears behind Flacco.)
Flacco: When I was young I had a passion.
Bob: I had a gun, I went looking for action.
Flacco: I'd state at the mirror for hours on end.
Bob: I stood in McDonalds and tried to make friends.
Flacco: Where I'd tell stories and listen intently
Bob: I put in my order and counted to twenty.
Flacco: While the world outside was falling away.
Bob: Got up to nineteen and I made her pay.
Flacco: My eyelids grew heavy.
Bob: My french fries weren't ready.
Flacco: As the voice cast its spell.
Bob: That night I slept well.
(Bob and Flacco repeat the poem, swapping parts.)
Bob: Me too.
Flacco: You too?
Bob: (Bob walks towards Flacco and steps on a landmine.)
Flacco: Me too!

[Tim is in his room, while Richard and Paul are slumped at the table.]

Tim: (smoke is coming out of his ears) I've had an idea! I've had an idea! (Tim runs to the others) Excuse me... (He bangs the table) Excuse me! Boys, I've had an idea. I think I've got a brain.
Paul: Do you know what this means? it means you are capable of thought.
Tim: Thought? Capable? Means? You... Are?... That?... I can thunk.
Paul: Close - it's a start Tim.
Tim: Somnambulist, traffic light, filched... Words I've never dreamed of before - and Rich, 2+2=4. And Paul, now that I have a brain, I know that you have a heart, that you're the kind of guy who wants to give back massages to little old ladies and make tea and coffee for his friends. There must be a heart in here somewhere.
(Tim reaches into Paul's chest and pulls out a heart shaped fob watch)
Paul: I have a heart, I'm a nice person. And Tim, you've got a brain. Richard, did you find courage?
Richard: Yes Paul, I found courage. I've finally confronted my fears. And now... I'm not afraid of anything.
Tim: Then you wouldn't be scared of this... (He pulls a face)... or this... (pulls out the frog)... or this... (pulls out a mirror) your own reflection. (Richard screams) Just as I thought - now that I have a brain - you haven't overcome your fears at all.
Paul: John, John, be gentle on him, he's had a hard day.
Richard: It's Jesse, he's in the mirror. He keeps following me around... ahhhhh!
Tim: What mirror? What's this doing here?
(They push Richard towards the mirror.)
Paul: (Gently) Anyone want a foot massage?
Tim: Come on, Richard, we're going to get to the bottom of this... (He removes the cover from the mirror to reveal Jesse. Richard screams.)
Jesse: What's the matter? Too gutless to come up here by yourself are you, dick brain> Got to bring Bean Pole and the Midget with you... huh?
Tim: Paul, he called you a bean pole!! Richard, you've got to kill this guy.
Richard: He's my brother, I can't do it.
Paul: Would anyone like a lovely warm cup of tea?
Tim: Do it - do it, smash the mirror.
Richard: I can't! I can't! I'm scared!
Paul: Let's make some paper flowers - (sings) 'If you're happy and you know it cl