The English

The English.

Kirk – Mid fourties, George’s wife.
George – Mid fourties, Kirk’s husband.
Ted – Late thirties, Kirk’s brother.
Bob – Late seventies, Maude’s brother.
Maude – Early eighties, Kirk and Ted’s mother.
Trisha – Teenager, Kirk and George’s daughter.
Aunty Polly – Mid thirties, George’s sister.
Gordon – Mid thirties, Polly’s drip boyfriend.

(Summer barbeque – everyone is outside either talking around the table, sun-bathing or smoking – all drinking)

Kirk: Innit ‘ot?

George: It’s fuckin’ ‘ot!

Ted: I dunna ‘ow they can stand it in this fuckin’ country.

Kirk: And the bloody flies!

George: The flies! …fuck me… (swipes fly)


Kirk: Trisha you’re gonna get like a bloody lobster if you lie about like that!

Trisha: (sunbathing) I’m fine mum!

Kirk: You’re bloody not! You’re gonna get ‘orrible bloody wrinkles if you keep at it…

Trisha: (not listening – turns up volume on your iPod)

George: Trish will you take those fucking things out of your ear! Your mother’s tryin-a talk to you!

Trisha: What!? What do you want!?

Kirk: Who are you, the fucking Queen Mother? Get inside Trish you look like a bloody toma-o!

(Trish sighs and rolls her eyes. She walks inside.)

Maude: Vhat? Vhat’s going on neh?

Kirk: TRISHA. IS. BURNING. NAN. VERY. HOT! (Makes a fan with her hand)

Maude: Hey! Shout you don’t need to neh? I can hear!

Kirk: (To George) Well fuck me select hearing is what I’d call it.

Maude: Vhat!?


Maude: Yes ok fine alright.

(Kirk goes inside)

George: (To Kirk) Bring us another pint a Pride will ya darlin’?!

(To Ted) Did you see the Gunners play last night?

Ted: Did I fuck – that new black bloke they got is fuckin’ sublime!

George: Cor! Bloody ‘ell he’s fuckin’ brilliant! I ‘aven’t seen sportsmanship like that since that French git left the team.

Ted: Who?

George: You know – the French one. Black one.

Ted: How black?

George: Not THAT black.

Ted: …fuck…

George: Fuckin’…Henry!

Ted: Ahhh Thierry Henry yeah fuckin’ brilliant that boy was!

Bob: What we talkin’ ‘bout?

Ted: Oh ‘ello Bob! How long you been ‘ere?

Bob: Just got ‘ere didn’t I? ‘Ooh’s fuckin’ brilliant?

George: Henry.

Bob: French git. Brilliant football player mind.

George: Kirk! Where’s me bloody drink!?

Bob: Gizz a light will ya?

Kirk: Yeah alright! Keep ya bloody knickers on!

(Gives drink to George who kisses her on the cheek and smacks her bum.)

(Kirk sits next to Maude)

Kirk: ‘Ot innit Nan?

Maude: Vhat!?

Kirk: Nevermind…

(Trisha walks back outside)

Kirk: Hey! You’re not going back out in that blaring sun are you?

Trisha: No mum. (Sits down)

George: Trish!

Trisha: What?

George: Come ‘ere would you love?

Trisha: (Walks over) Yeah?

George: Make sure you speak to ya Nan won’t you?

Trisha: (sighs) Dad…

George: Well she ain’t gonna be ‘ere for much longer is she? She’s old. She’ll probably die soon.

Trisha: Uh…yeah fine.

George: Good girl. (Turns back to Bob and Ted)

What you think of the tele ‘ere then? Not much is it?

Ted: I swear to fuckin’ Christ, everytime I turn on the tele there’s bloody Africans dying!

George: Fuckin’ ‘ell! Tell me ‘bout it…

Ted: I mean…who fuckin’ cares?

George: That or some fuckin’ war-torn Mussie country.

Ted: Fuckin’ ‘ell ‘ave you seen what’s been going on there?

Kirk: Boys! No politics please!

George: Do you mind darlin’? We’re tryin-a ‘ave a conversation ‘ere right?

Bob: Bomb the lot of  ‘em.

Ted: Eh?

Bob: The fuckin’ Mussies.

George: You know…he’s fuckin’ right, they’re going ‘round blowin’ each other up anyway. Fucking liberty.

Ted: The state of the world these days…know what I mean?

Bob: I walked down Sutton High street the other week…not one white face.

George: Not one!?

Bob: Not one…fucking…Englishman.

Ted: In England!

George: Fuck me. (Shakes his head)

(Aunty Polly waltzes into the garden with her drip of a boyfriend, Gordon. He brings a professional camera along with him.)

Ted: Jesus fucking Christ here we go…

Bob: She’s only brought that fuckin’ Scouser with ‘her.

Polly: Hellooooooo everyone! Trish my GOD! You are looking thinner than ever come and give me a kiss won’t you poops?

Trisha: Hello Aunty Polly. (Awkwardly hugs)


Gordon: YA’LIGHT?!

Trisha: (Just stares at him)

Polly: Hellooo boyyysss! Ted you’re getting a bit of a gut on you now! (laughs)

Ted: Same to you Pol!


Kirk: (With a casserole pot in her hands) Ted! Right come on everyone now Polly’s here we can eat!

(They all start to move towards the table laden with food.)

George: Thank fuck!

Ted: I’m hungrier than a black man right now!

Kirk: Ted really! What would Dad say?

Ted: Come off it Kirk just pass the mash won’t you?

(As Trisha walks past Ted he gives her bum a squeeze)

Ted: Looking good Trish!

Trisha: (groans)

(Gordon takes close up pictures of the cutlery)

Bob: (To George) The fucks his problem?

George: Fuck me if I know. Weird…

Bob: Fuckin’ queer.


Maude: Drink just make me another one neh?

Ted: She’ll be on the table before no time!

(Everyone laughs)

Bob: (To Trisha) I’ll cut you some pork love?

Trisha: No thanks Bob.

Bob: (pause) …why? What’s wrong with ya?

George: Oh didn’t you hear? Trish has become a lesbian!

Maude: Vhat!?

Kirk: George be quiet! She’s vegetarian.

Maude: Vhat’s that? Some new thing? I don’t understand…


Maude: Vell vhy not!? Vhat’s wrong vit you neh?

Trisha: Nothing I –

Ted: I’ll give ‘er some meat!

George: Eh! Watch it Ted.

Ted: (Chuckles)

Trisha: Can I eat upstairs mum?

Kirk: Course you can darlin’. Go put the tele on.

George: No Kirk. She’s eating with us. The family.

Kirk: Oh George just leave her alone won’t you?

Polly: Oh come on darling poops you haven’t seen us in so long!

Trisha: I reall-

Gordon: (Holds camera up to her face) Hold it there Trish.

Trisha: (Pushes his camera away) Please I jus-

Bob: Sit down Trisha ye rabbit food’s getting cold! (Cackles)

Trisha: Mum…

Kirk: It’s alright darlin’ off you go.

George: She sits with the family. What’s wrong Trish? Don’t you like us?

Trisha: I’m just tired…

George: What’s wrong with us eh?

Trisha: YOU’RE ALL FUCKING POTTY! I can’t STAND it any longer just LET ME BE! It’s like living in a fucking LOONY BIN here!

(Pause. Silence. Gordon takes a picture of the table.)

Maude: Vhat!?

Kirk: Trish –

George: How fuckin’ dare you use language like that! In my own bloody house! Get those skinny legs up them stairs!

Trisha: Gladly. (Exits)

(Pause while everyone eats)

Bob: D’ya know who hate?

George: What’s that Bob?

Bob: The fuckin’ Jocks.

Ted: Oh don’t even get me started!

George: Fuckin’ bunch of useless cun-



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