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There's rubbish and there's rubbish
Published 06 November 2006
Tony rearranges Cherie's hair, Leo loses his nuggets, Sarah learns to live with new nappies, while Gordon sneaks out with a bin liner.
Scene 1: Cherie is in the bathroom spraying her new hairdo. Leo is playing a computer game.
Tony is tasting a 2005 Chardonnay from Sussex.
Tony: [spits it out]: Yuk. All bloody chalk.
He pours himself a large glass of Chilean Haut-Brion.
Tony: Mm. Just the ticket. Now then guys! Everyone in the bedroom, please. Family meeting!
Cherie: No, Tony. I'm doing my hair.
Tony: That's what the meeting's about.
Cherie: My hair?
Tony: About the impact of our personal habits on the environment. It won't take long.
Cherie stomps angrily in from the bathroom.
Tony: Right. Excellent. Thank you all for being here today.
Cherie: Get on with it.
Tony: Put the Xbox down, please, Leo, there's a good lad. Now then, here's a word that's not very nice. Murder. We're murdering the planet and that's something we'll live to regret - as will the planet. We in this family, and in the wider community, have a responsibility to lower our emissions. So this evening I want us each to commit ourselves to a daily act of eco-penance which will help us achieve eco-absolution.
Leo: I don't understand.
Tony: Write down that you promise to turn the telly off when you're not watching it and to give up Chicken McNuggets.
Leo: I like Chicken McNuggets.
Tony: They're bad for the planet.
Leo [wailing]: I don't want to give up Chicken McNuggets.
Tony: You don't have to, darling. It's only a promise. Write it down and we'll put it on the family website. Very good. Now, see what Daddy's written. "I promise to switch to fair-trade mangetout and to atone for my air travel by protecting corals in the Great Barrier Reef." Cherie, what have you got? Something about hairspray?
Cherie: I promise to offset our gas emissions by planting a fir tree each time Tony makes a speech on the environment.
Scene 2: The Browns' flat. Sarah is playing with little James.
Sarah: Dingledangle, finglefangle.
Gordon is in the grip of green paranoia and sifts through the family rubbish. He pulls out a sheaf of facts and figures.
Gordon: My old pre-Budget statement! Sarah. How did this end up in the recycle box?
Sarah: Well, it's the same every year, isn't it? Low inflation, high growth and high investment.
Gordon: Not for much longer. We're into an inflationary spiral.
Sarah: Jingle jangle jingle . . . Oh James! Pooey! Somebody needs changing.
Gordon: By the way, we can't use disposable nappies any more.
Sarah: I'm not washing 15 of those cotton things every day.
Gordon: We'll have to. The plastic ones are dreadful. They sit in the earth for years and years, festering. Like a one-time Hartlepool MP with a grudge.
Sarah: Oh, all right, then.
Gordon: What's this? Oh my God, Sarah! A plastic bottle in the ordinary rubbish. This could ruin everything.
Sarah: Oh, one bit of plastic won't kill the planet.
Gordon: I'm talking about my career. There are reporters sifting through politicians' bins at night. This rubbish could end up in the Daily Mail.
Sarah: Won't be the first time there's been rubbish in the Daily Mail.
Gordon: But this is our rubbish. And I'm very protective towards it. I won't have the newspapers invading my detritus for the titillation of their readers. I'll be exposed as a hypocrite and . . . hang on. Got it!
Scene 3: That night. Downing Street. A hooded figure appears and tiptoes towards No 10 with a full bin liner. The door opens. Tony bursts out.
Tony: What's going on?
He tears off the figure's hood.
Tony: Gordon!
Gordon: Er, hi Tony! What are you doing?
Tony: I heard noises. What are you doing?
Gordon: I heard noises, too. I thought you might be a terrorist. Then I remembered you already are.
Tony: Very funny. And what's that rubbish for?
Gordon: Leaving it out for the Daily M - . . . daily refuse collection.
Tony: Outside my house? You little sneak!
Gordon: Er, well, I er . . .
Cherie appears behind Tony carrying a bin liner.
Cherie: All set, Tony. One mixed bag of disposable nappies and recyclable bottles . . . Oh, Gordon! [Sweetly] How're the green taxes coming along?
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