[The Boys are in their rooms, all writing letters to their mothers]
Tim: Dear Mother, we're all going out of our brains with boredom since Shitsu Tonka sent us down here with the people we hate most in the world - each other. I've been reading a book on animal diseases. Lucky we don't have any pets down here. I've also been reading War and Peace but I don't know what it's about.
Richard:Dear Mummy Wummy, it's your fluffy puffy smuffy itsy bitsy witsy willy willy wombat bishy boom bah tinkle winkle inkle pookie smookie 'All I want is a room somewhere' tickle smickle pickle wickle dinka winka tuffy wuffy 'No it's just on the street where you live' lovey dovey wovey smovey piffle wiffle tiffle 'Oh wouldn't it be lovely! lovely? lovely! lovely?' Please send some more money.
Paul: Dear Mum, I'm not going to write to you this week. Your son ... probably ... maybe. PS Today is Sunday
All: I hate Sundays.

Newsreader: Shitsu Tonka News In Brief: The femme Fuhrer of the feminist republic of New Zealand, Ms Olga Hammer-Dyke expressed outrage today after comments from the Prime Minister of Holland, Mr Hands-Knees-Shoulders-Toes. The Dutch leader remarked that Holland was saved by the little boy who put his finger in the dyke. Perhaps New Zealand could learn from his example.

[Tim and Richard are playing "Fish", while Paul paces around the table]
Tim: Have you got a ... one?
Richard: Nuh. Have you got a ... Jack?
Tim: No. Have you got a ... one?
Richard: (thinks) Nuh. Have you got a ... king?
Paul: Stop this stupid game.
Tim: No. Have you got a ... one?
Paul: (he thinks and bangs his fist into the table) I wish we could go outside but we can't ... it's been raining all day ...
Tim: We can't go outside anyway - we're at the bottom of the ocean. C'mon, cheer up ... What did Dr Jekyll play with the Hindu? Hide and seek ... Hindu ... Sikh ... Have you gotta ... one?
Richard: It'd be okay if we had some other company down here ... like some pets or something.
Tim: No pets! No pets, Richard. That's against the rules and you know it. Shitsu Tonka regulations specifically state no pets allowed on any Shitsu Tonka vessels, whatsoever.
Paul: Think about it Richard ... You cant have maggot ridden, flea-infested quadrupeds in here, can you? Well, I had a friend who used to have a cat. She said she was so close to her cat that it was almost part of her - well that part of her used to piss on the beanbag (everyone sighs).
Tim: Have you got a ... one?
Richard: I just want to do something different 'cos it's raining.
Paul: Well Rich, when it's raining you can only do three things: play games, watch TV, and eat. So let's play Mr Potato.
Richard: Yeah! Mr Potato!
Tim: No! Not Mr Potato ... No ... no way! Last time we played Mr Potato I nearly died, you tried to kill me.
Paul: No I didn't.
Tim: Yes you did.
Paul: No I didn't.
Tim: Yes you did, you mongrel.
Paul: OK, let's settle this by ... knuckles.
(They stand and play knuckles, then Paul punched Tim in the face. Tim falls to the ground.)

[Flacco is in his box, dreaming that he is a child again.]
Flacco: Mum! Mum! Oh, Mum!
Mum: (Flacco's voice) Fear not this foul play, Flacco, for the game is not done until the final whistle sounds.
(Flacco wakes up)
Flacco: Mum! Mum! Mum! (A newspaper flies in and hits him on the head) And on the seventh day, he looked upon his works, and behold! It was all right. Ah ... Come up ... Good, get the plumbers in on Monday. But on Sunday ... we rest.

[Tim stumbles back up to the table.]
Tim: Ugh. You hit me. You cheated!
Paul: Bullshit. Liar.
Tim: Bullshit!
Paul: Bullshit. You think that's bullshit. My uncle Ernie - he's really weird - has pleurisy. He gets all this phlegm on his chest - this is true, mate - and that syphons the phlegm off his lungs and puts it into milk cartons and sells them at tuck shops as banana smoothies.
Tim: That's crap Paul. That's a lie. How you can look at me and say that, I don't know. That's nothing compared to my Uncle Basil. He claims to be the entire population of Dubbo shrunken to a single human by a passing alien space craft.
Richard: Bullshit, crap, garbage, you know it.
Paul: That's nothing. This is true, right. I've got this auntie, right. My Auntie Gwendoline - she's this really weird woman, right - she's had this ulcer for a long time. What she does every morning when she gets up, right, she squeezes all the blood and the pus, gets all the pus, no, mucus ... and she puts it in a bowl and whisks it till it's light and fluffy, right, and serves it in little glass jars as vanilla mousse. Although it tastes disgusting, it goes down like a greased oyster.
Tim: That's crap, Paul.
Richard: That's bullshit. But this is true - when I was in fourth class, my teacher Mrs Higgins came in and said, 'Richard, go out into the yard in your lunch hour and pick up twenty papers'. And I said to her ..., 'Nuh ...'
(Tim and Paul look at Richard, then at one another. They all sigh.)
Paul: Let's play a game. Game One: Mr Spickle-Head!
(He slams a cup of toothpicks down on the table.)
Paul: Now Rich, this is a very simple game. All you have to do is pick up as many toothpicks as you can with your forehead. I'll show you how it's done, OK?
(Paul slams his forehead into the toothpicks and then lifts his head. He drops the toothpicks that are stuck into his forehead onto the table and counts them.)
Tim & Paul: Forty-six! ... Your turn Rich. OK, go for it ... easy, peasy ...
Richard: No, I'm a bit scared.
Paul: Want me to give you a bit of a hand, mate?
(Paul slams Richard's head into the toothpicks. Richard screams and falls back, whimpering.)
Paul: Rich? What did you say about my sister, mate?
Richard: What?
Paul: I heard you. You said ... mumble ... mumble ... McDermott's sister.
Richard: I did not ...
Paul: You did, I heard it ...
Tim: Listen, don't talk about his sister, you know what he's like on Sundays.
Richard: I ... I ... I didn't do anything.
Paul: OK. Game Two: Wince!
(Paul picks up a slice of lemon.)
Paul: Now, Rich, this is a very simple game. In this game you get a lemon and squeeze it into your eyes - whoever lasts the longest wins. (He hands out the lemon slices.) Willy Willy Wombat! Biff Boom Bah! (Paul and Tim pretend to squeeze the lemon into their eyes, but Richard doesn't.)
Tim: Here, have mine. (He passes his lemon to Richard.)
Richard: I won!
Paul: Hey Rich, what did you say about my sister?
Richard: Nothing.
Paul: You did, I heard you.
Richard: I did not.
Tim: What did you say about the stupid slag mole bitch?
Paul: Mr Toaster. Game Three: Mr Toaster!
(Paul gets out a toaster, and three implements - a rubber spatula, a wooden spoon and a knife.)
Paul: Now Rich, in Mr Toaster you get a choice of penetrating implement. OK Tim, last out, first in ...
Tim: Well I think I'll take the ... rubber spatula. What's this doing on board?
Paul: And I'll take the wooden spoon. Rich?
Richard: And I'll take ... the knife.
Paul: Good choice!
Tim: Let's switch on Mr Toaster.
(The toaster sparks.)
Tim: Me first.
(Tim sticks the spatula into the toaster and nothing happens.)
Paul: My turn.
(Paul does the same - nothing happens.)
Richard: I'm not going to put that in - everyone knows you don't put a knife in a toaster. I'll use this conducting rod I found over here. What do you think I am, stupid?
(Richard sticks the rod into the toaster, and he screams as he is electrocuted.
Richard: (sobbing) Ahhh ...
Paul: Rich? Rich? What did you say about my sister, mate?
Richard: Nothing Paul, nothing ...
Paul: You did, what was it, I heard you ...
Tim: Paul, which sister is this, the spastic or the lesbian?
Richard: Tim ... he's only got one sister ...
Tim: Let's watch TV. It's time for Wayne Kerr.

Wayne Kerr: They call me Wayne Kerr! Crime, robbery, manslaughter, incest, injustice, grievous assault with bodily harm, these are a few of my favourite things. Sex is my adventure!

Richard is huddled over his desk with Smuffy, a small, white kitten.
Richard: Tim and Paul always treat me cruelly and laugh. They always hurt me. It's good to have a special friend. Oh, Smuffy ... I know I'm not meant to have a special friend, but I love you. I'm just not going to take it from Tim and Paul any more, Smuffy. If they give me any more shit, Smuffy, I'm going to go up to them and rip their eyeballs out ... and use their optic nerves as dental floss. I'm not going to be treated like shit. I'm not an animal. I'm not an animal.
(Tim and Paul enter the room.)
Richard: I'm a bad assed dude.

(Richard continues to sing as Tim and Paul wander out.)

[Tim walks down the corridor, looking for something to do. He opens the first door to reveal soldiers running towards him with machine guns.]
Tim: The horror, the horror.
(He opens the next door, where Bob is standing, covered in cobwebs.)
Tim: What?
Bob: Hi Soldier, I'm back ...

[Paul is in his room with his pet snake, Salome, around his neck.]
Paul: Oh Salome, Oh Salome ... I remember when I first saw you dancing in that erotic double act at berlin;s Bar and Grill ... Oh, Salome ... Salome and Salomi ... Erotica! Oh Salome, you were writhing on Salomi and Salomi was writhing on the ground, Salome - Salome, oh, Salome down - I'm going too fast. You know, you've been places that I've never seen. And you gave up that llife of sin for me - you could have been anythink you wanted, Salome - a handbag, a suitcase, a pair of sling-backs, a tie ... a very long, long tie.
You know, Salome, I want you to fulfil your dream ... to go back to Memphis and become the world's first legless Elvis impersonator. You've got the hips for it! Salome, sometimes when you're around me, I feel so mch joy and happiness, other times when you're around me, I can't breathe ... (the snake begins to choke Paul.)

[Tim is in his room, singing and holding the gun.]
Tim: Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile ... (Tim grasps the periscope) Scope up! Where's Bob? Where is he? Come out, come out, wherever you are! Hmmm ... all clear. Let's see what Pixie and Dixie are up to. What's this? I spy with my little eye something beginning with ... boa constrictor! And ... ah! A pussy cat!
Well, well, my deceitful friends - there are rules to life. They are as follows: 1. There is one way t console a widow, but remember the risk. 2. Never lick an envelope that you didn't buy yourself. And the final rule, the rule that you have broken - no pets! No pets! No Pets! Well, you're about to learn a lesson, my deceitful friends! (Into the microphone) Now hear this! Now hear this! Dinner will be served in one hour. All assemble in the main hall. This is not a drill ... it is a microphone! ... Down scope. It's dinnertime ...

[Flacco is cooking a Sunday roast over a candle/]
Flacco: Yes, I like to cook. You see, in my youth I learnt all the basic survival skills and whenever I would see another living creature, I would take away its life, peel off its skin and eat it. And if you do that for long enough, you get old, your teeth fall out and then you have to eat soup ... It's a cruel world.

Newsreader: Shitsu Tonka Blitz Bits: A Shitsu Tonka oil spill off the coast of Madagascar has meant that a wide array of sea life is in danger. Rescue attempts have been made to save the oil.

[Back in the living room, Tim is briefing Paul & Richard.]

Tim: OK, boys, I'm making din-dins tonight and I was wondering if there is anything that you don't eat? ... You know, camels, sheep, pussy cats ...
Richard: Smuffy? Smuffy? Smuffy? Smuffy?!
(Richard runs off to his room, almost in tears.)
Paul: That was very cruel what you did to Richard, but very funny ...
Tim: You should see whhat I can do with reptiles, Paul ...
Paul: Salome? (Paul runs off crying.)
Tim: Too late, my friends, the bun is in the oven ...

[Flacco is still cooking his roast, his stomach rumbling.]
FLACCO Down, Stomach, down, easy boy, it won't be long now, it's almost done. Ah, yes, I've been looking forward to this roast for centuries. Oh, yes, Stomach of mine, this is the very roast, the said same fettle of fowl handed down by my ancestors through all of time's Sundays, marinated in the drool of my dearly departed kindred. (His stomach rumbles) Settle! Down boy, get down, get around, get out of it, get around, you mongrel. Now listen, Stomach, Stomach, if you behave, later on I'll take you out for walkies ... But just remember what happened last time I took you out: you broke loose from your intestine and disappeared for days. I was worried sick. And when the police finally brought you back, you got into the garbage and they had to have you pumped. Oh Stomach, why can't you be like other stomachs? Why don't you ever bring me my slippers? All you ever seem to do is bring up my kippers!

[Paul and Richard are frantically searching the submarine for their pets.]

Paul: Salome, Salome, tch-tch-tch.
Richard: Smuffy? Smuffy?
Paul: (Sadly) What are you looking for, Rich?
Richard: (Very sadly) Nothing.
Tim: Come and get it. It's din-din time.
Paul: Smells great, what is it?
Tim: Well we were going to have chicken, but unfortunately a pussy cat ate the chicken. Then we were going to eat pussy cat but unfortunately a ten foot boa constrictor ate the pussy cat. So let me present to you my crowning glory - ten foot boa constrictor with pussy cat Smuffy stuffing ...
(He places a roasted snake on the table with a large lump in its middle. He cuts it open to reveal a cooked Smuffy.)
Richard: Smuffy, Smuffy. You killed Smuffy!
Paul: You killed Salome ...
Tim: I tortured them for a while. They died of their own accord.
Richard: I want Smuffy back.
Tim: Sure, here she is. (Tim takes Smuffy out of snake.)
Tim: Mmmmmm. The skin's the best bit. Want some? (He offers Smuffy to Richard.)
Paul: That's it. Now I'm a patient man, Ferguson, but that's the camel that broke the squaw's back. It's time to play Mr Potato!
Tim: (terrified) No, no, anything except Mr Potato. No ... please, be reasonable ...
Richard: Yes, Mr Potato.
Tim: No, no, please, come on. (Grabs toothpicks) How about Spickle-Head ...
Richard: Mr Potato ...
Tim: (grabs lemon) What about Wince?
Richard: Mr Potato ...
Tim: How about Mr Toaster? (Puts knife in toaster.)
Richard & Paul: Mr Potato, Mr Potato ...
Tim: (grabs cards) Have you got a ...
Richard & Paul : Mr Potato, Mr Potato ...

[Tim is dressed in a large potato suit.]
Tim: Not the nose! (Richard puts the nose on) Not the ears! (Richard puts the ears on) Not the eyes! (Paul and Richard put in the eyes.) Not the glasses!
(They attach the hat, and Tim falls over, dead.)
Paul: Well, what do you feel like for dinner, Rich?
Richard & Paul : Mashed potato!
Richard: Have you got a ... chainsaw?
Paul: Yes! (He starts it and moves towards Mr Potato) What did you say about my sister, Rich?! (He follows Richard with the chainsaw. Richard screams.)

[Paul is sitting in the living room by himself, playing fish.]
Paul: Have you got a... one? No I haven't! What'd I say about my sister? (Falls back laughing crazily.)