Lift Home
A and B are driving home together, B driving. A is naturally nervy, in glasses. B is more hearty, much more bluff
A: Good of you to give me a lift.
B: Don’t mention it. Couldn’t let you walk home in this, could we?
A: Bit like a monsoon isn’t it, ha ha ha?
B: Ha ha ha. They’ll be piling up like concertinas on the motorway.
A: Really?
B: Like bits of bacon. Take my advice, first sign of rain, take the train, ha ha ha.
A: Ha ha ha.
B: Said he, offering you a lift. Ha ha ha.
A: Ha ha ha. Do we, er, have to use the motorway at all?
B: Only for a mile or two. Just as well really, wouldn’t like to be on there too long with these tyres.
A: Anything wrong with them?
B: What? No no. Least, the front ones are okay. (fumbles on dashboard) Oh damn.
A: What is it?
B: Indicator stalk’s dropped off again. Have a look for it would you?
A: (looking on floor) I can’t see it. Maybe it went through one of these holes in the floor.
B: Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, ha ha ha. Just take a look at the road whizzing by down there, incredible sensation of speed isn’t it?
A: Yes.
B: Course, the worst of the rust’s on your side so watch your step. The wife stamped on a wasp the other day, nearly lost a leg in the slipstream. Ha ha ha.
A: Ha ha ha.
B: God rest her soul. Oh, do you want to undo your seatbelt a moment?
A: Why?
B: Well it’s strange, but I’ve found if you keep the passenger’s seatbelt done up for any length of time in this car, the steering locks and the brake pedal goes all spongy. Still, you risk your life playing Russian roulette don’t you? Ha ha ha.
A: Ha ha ha.
B: By the way, do the words ‘epileptic fit’ mean anything to you?
A: Um, yes.
B: Ever seen one?
A: No, can’t say I –
B: Stick around, this could be your lucky day.
A: A-aren’t you having treatment?
B: Well, the docs keep giving me pills and electric shock therapy and stuff, but I think it’s better just to let nature take its course, don’t you? I’ll give you a tip, the second I start foaming at the mouth, go for the door handle.
A: You mean jump out? Of a speeding car?
B: No, the door on your side is stuck, that’s why you had to climb in via the boot. But the handle’s loose, so just hit me over the head with it and grab the wheel.
(A takes off his glasses to mop his face)
Hot?
A: A little.
B: Here, fan yourself with my kidney donor card. Did I tell you I lost my glasses today?
A: I didn’t know you normally wore –
B: Blind as a bat without them. I’ll give you a f’rinstance. What speed are we doing?
A: S-s-seventy-five.
B: There you are you see, I could have sworn it said thirty.
A: Hadn’t you better slow down?
B: Ah, don’t worry about it. You just keep your eyes on that juggernaut up ahead and tell me when we get too close. Not that I wouldn’t hear the crunch, nothing wrong with my hearing.
A: That’s a relief.
B: It’s about 6.30. By the way, do you happen to know if there’s a full moon tonight?
A: I think there is actually.
B: Ah.
A: What’s the matter?
B: Let me put it this way. How do you feel about dogs?
A: Well I –
B: I mean, you’ve no objection to driving with a dog in the car?
A: No, I don’t mind.
B: Course, when I say dog I mean more your sort of werewolf.
A: What?
B: Don’t panic, it hasn’t happened for, ooh, 29 days now. Only you never can tell. Last bloke I had in here ended up as two plates of Chum and a scrag end.
A: Yes, well, I, um –
B: It was the howling that really got to him. He didn’t mind the hair sprouting on the backs of the hands so much, but at my first blood-curdling shriek he just froze. I was on him like a pack of spaniels.
A: Yes, look, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind stopping the –
B: He’d been quite chatty up to that point, like you.
A: I think I’d rather walk after all if you don’t –
B: Aaaarrrooooo it went.
A: Let me out of here!
(A leaps from the car and scampers off)
B: Hmm. Two and a half minutes. Fastest this month.
(or)
Thank Christ for that. I can’t stand people with smelly feet.
PS
This was, I think, the only sketch I ever wrote that was inspired a true event. A cast member gave me a lift home from rehearsals once and he was the worst, most impatient, wound-up driver I had ever ridden with. Speeding, tail-gating, shouting at people. At the roundabout in the shadow of St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, he even carved up another, smaller car, claiming it had done the same thing to him ten minutes before. I don’t know if this was true, my eyes were still closed, but I would think it was extremely unlikely. The werewolf ending was the most extreme way I could think of to get out of it, and such fantasy is unusual for me. But I like this one, mainly because I was happy to have survived that hectic drive home. Pity I could never fix on a definitive punchline. At least it leaves a cast with options.