Pooch

	Hugh and Stephen are sitting in a vet's surgery waiting-room. Stephen 
	has a long-haired dachshund on a lead. Hugh has a basket by him.
	Stephen's character is perfectly horrible in its tweeness.


Stephen		Wot'cha-got in there, I wonder?

Hugh		Cat.

Stephen		Got a mogs in there, have you? A kitti-puss? Lovely. This is
		Clover, my daxie. I've always had daxies. I like daxies with
		long coaties.

Hugh		Do you, do you, really? Is that right?

Stephen		What sort of mog-wog is your pussy-kit? A tabbles, a tom-tom or
		what?

Hugh		Burmese.

Stephen		A Burmie! I love a Burmie. Boy or girl Burmie?

Hugh		Oh God ... male.

Stephen		(into basket) Hello, Mr Burmie. What's your name?

Hugh		Yes, it can't speak actually.

Stephen		Oh, but they can understand every word, can't they?

Hugh		Not much evidence for that.

Stephen		My first dax, my first little dax was called Sculley. I named
		him after Hugh Sculley from the Antiques Roadshow. I love that
		programme, don't you?

Hugh		Pervertedly.

Stephen		Do you know what I do of a Sunday? After I've taken Clover for
		walkums ... we go walkums after lunch, don't we Clover ... just
		Clover and me and of course my little pooper-scooper, because
		that nasty Parkie man doesn't like to see poochie-poop on his
		best grass, does he?

Hugh		Oh Christ ...

Stephen		We come back and I make myself a cheese and tommy-toe toastie.

Hugh		Cheese and what? 

Stephen		Tommy-toe. Tommy-toe. Tommy-toe.

Hugh		Tomato.

Stephen		Tommy-toe. Tommy-toe.

Hugh		Don't say it again.

Stephen		I make myself a cheese and tommy-toe toastie, sometimes two
		toasties, and a lovely old muggles of tea and I snudget down in
		time for the Roadshow. I love Sunday afternoonies.

Hugh		Jesus Christ oh help.

Stephen		If it's not the Roadshow, they have the animal programme with
		Desmond.

Hugh		Desmond Morris.

Stephen		We just call him Desmond in our house, cos he's like a friend.
		An old chum. Or there's Masterchef or the Clothsies Show.
		Clover and I love our Sunday afties, don't we Clover?

Hugh		Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Stephen		So what's wrong with Mr Burmie?

Hugh		What?

Stephen		Mr Burmie. Why's he come to see Vettiloo? Got a poorly tums?

Hugh		Did you just say Vettiloo?

Stephen		Sore throatie? (Into basket.) What's wrong with Mr Burmie?

Hugh		I've brought him in to be killed.

Stephen		Scusie?

Hugh		He's got cancer of the liver, so I've brought him in to be put
		to death.

	A pause.

Stephen		Cancer?

Hugh		Yes.

Stephen		Cancer of the liver?

Hugh		Yes.

Stephen		Cancey-wancey.

Hugh		Oh Jesus ...

Stephen		(to the cat) Cancey-diddlies. They going to put you to
		deathies, Mister Burmie? They going to stop your heartipoos
		from going beaty-weat-weat? Are they going to go killichum-
		chums? Put your coldy-woldy body-wods in a holey-ploppy-poo-
		woo?

	The door to the vet's office opens and Phyllida pops her head round.

Phyllida	Clover?

Dachsund	(looking up) Yeah?

Phyllida	What can I do for you?

Dachsund	(looking at Stephen) I'd like to have him put down, please. As
		soon as possible.