(Dick Clever, Episode Twelve, Getting Ahead)

	                                               THEME / JAZZ HORN PLAYING UNDERNEATH:

DICK:			We had just started the questioning of the giant food distributor Cecil 
			        Lardbottom. The only man in history, whose stomach was affected by 
			        the moon's gravity. 

				                                   THEME OUT.

LARDBOTTOM:	I have nothing to hide, Detective.

DICK:			Then what's that behind you?

LARDBOTTOM:	Where?

DICK:			There!

LARDBOTTOM:	It's a wall.

DICK:			Goodness, so it is. So tell me, where were you on Monday the 
			        15th at 4:13 exactly?

LARDBOTTOM:	Is that exactly pm or am?

DICK:			Exactly pm.

LARDBOTTOM:	I was exactly there.

DICK:			Where?

LARDBOTTOM:	Just there. I remember as I received a phone call from Ernest 
			                Nutpucker.

DICK:			Ernest Puttnucker?

LARDBOTTOM:	No. Ernest Nutpucker.

DICK:			I see. And what did he want?

LARDSBOTTOM:	Let me see. Ah, here it is. He wanted a large supply of, well, I'll be… a 
			                    supply of fish fingers, Piere's to be exact.

DICK:			And where will we find this Ernest Puttnucker?

LARDBOTTOM:	Nutpucker. He works out of a small grass hut on 2nd and North 
			                streets. 

DICK:			Thank you for this, but Cecil, I'll ask you not to leave town for a few 
			        days.

LARDBOTTOM:	Believe me, it takes me that long to get to the front door.

				                                   JAZZ HORN BLOWING UNDERNEATH: 

			                We left Mr. Lardbottom to his own devices, which seemed numerous
                            and walked onto the street. It was then that my phone rang.

				                                   PHONE RINGING.

			                This wasn't much good as it was still on my desk.

			                Adhere!

ADHERE:		Yes, to be sure. Dick your phone’s ringing.

DICK:			The one on my desk?

ADHERE:		Yes. Would you like me to get it?

DICK:			Why not?

ADHERE:		Wait here.

				                                   PERSON RUNNING AWAY AND THEN RUNNING BACK.

			        Well, here it is.

DICK:			That's my desk.

ADHERE:		Yes. I said your phone was ringing on your desk and you asked me to 
			         get it.

DICK:			Right. Now get me the phone.

ADHERE:		Right you are, Dick.

                                                   FEET RUNNING OFF, THEN RUNNING BACK WITH RINGING PHONE.

			        Here it is.

DICK:			Thank you...

				                                   RINGING STOPS.

			        Damn, isn't that always the way?

ADHERE:		Don't worry they'll call back.

				                                   PHONE RINGING.

			        What did I tell you?

				                                   PHONE BEING PICKED UP.

DICK:			Hello?

DOC:			Dick?

DICK:			Doc?

DOC:			Dick, I have something hot for you, you'd better get down here.

DICK:			Is that you Doc? Because I’ll only fall for that…

DOC:			It’s serious.

DICK:			Be right there.

				                                   PHONE HANGING UP.

				                                   JAZZ HORN PLAYING UNDERNEATH:

DICK:			It was only then that I realised that the chord to my phone was really, 
			        really long.

				                                   JAZZ HORN OUT. DOOR OPENING.

DOC:			Ah, Dick.

DICK:			Hello Doc, how are you?

DOC:			Better than this poor chap.

DICK:			Another body?

DOC:			Well just his head.

DICK:			Where’s the body?

DOC:			That's the question. The head was found in the middle of a football
                     field with a fish finger up its nose. The body is nowhere to be seen.

DICK:			So, I guess we can rule out suicide.

DOC:			Here read this.

DICK:			Mould pastry, fill and bake for fifteen minutes at 230 degrees.

DOC:			I thought as much.

				                                   BUZZER.

			        Here they are now.

DICK:			Oh wow, Raspberry tarts. Mmm, yeah, they’re to die for.

DOC:			Why thank you, Dick. Now coffee?

DICK:			Yes please.

PETRA:			Thanks Doc. What are these marks on the side?

DOC:			That's where the murderers used a spoon to sever the poor fellow's 
			         head.

PETRA:			Wow. And what's that?

DOC:			Oh that Petra, is what is left of the right eye.

PETRA:			Oh, and what is this?

DOC:			That, my dear is a little nutmeg.

PETRA:			It really brings out the flavour. 

DOC:			I sprinkle it over the pastry before I fill it.

DICK:			Really good Doc. Now what is the cause of death?

DOC:			I think it is drowning.

DICK:			Drowning?

DOC:			Yes, in custard.

PETRA:			In custard?

DOC:	Yes. See how it is still dribbling out the mouth. And worse still....

		                                           MENACING CHORD. 

	        It is a packaged custard.

DICK:			Do you have any cream, Doc?

DOC:			No, it was only custard.

DICK:			I meant for the tart.

DOC:			Oh I am sorry, dear boy. Of course, whipped or natural?

DICK:			Whipped please Doc. So, who is he?

DOC:			This dear Dick, is Earnest Nutpucker.

				                                   THEME SONG IN AND OUT.

                                                   END

Copyright by Mike Jones and Iley Jones