Toast of London (2013) s02e03 Episode Script

The Moose Trap

Evening, Steven.
A lot to get through, yeah? How much? What the hell is this? Sat Nav for the Elderly - it's a new option.
Sat Nav? Is that the client's name? That sounds Indian.
So I'm guessing that's you.
Not quite, Steven.
Sat Nav is the brand name of a voiced-automated travel service.
You what? Audio travel information.
Yeah, well, as you can see, Steven, there's a lot to get through, so let's crack on, yeah? It may be a long night.
Hello, Steven.
This is Clem Fandango.
Can you hear me? Here we go.
Steven? Yeah, I can hear you, Clem Fandango! There's over 700 pages, so the sooner we get started, the sooner we sign off.
Well, stop talking then, you silly prick! God! Are we rolling? All good, buddy.
You are now turning into.
Abbotsbree, Abingdun, Acton, Albrighton, Alcester, Alford, Allmouth, Allnick, Alstun, Aylshum, Amershum, Andover, Accrington, Aylesham Ashbourne, Ascot, Ashburton, Axminsterrr St Albans, St Leonards Warrior Square, St Peter Port Who the hell are you? St Saviour What the hell's the time? Fuck this.
You must be looking forward to going back into the West End again? Yes.
Er, it's a legendary play.
There can't be many theatregoers who haven't heard of The Moosetrap.
How long has it been running? still attracting huge audiences.
That is such a long time.
What do you think is the secret to its success? Well, it's a good old-fashioned murder-mystery, really.
It's well-plotted, and the fact that the chauffeur is the murderer is very cleverly concealed from the audience with a series of delicious red herrings.
The chauffeur did it? The chauffeur is the murderer, yes.
Well, The Moosetrap's running in the West End until forever, really, so do go along and you'll see our special guest, Mr Steven Toast.
Thanks for coming in, Steven.
Thank YOU.
And I hope I don't come across as crude by saying this, but you really are sex on legs.
You should be on the TV where more people can see you.
I don't suppose you fancy going for a drink, do you? Hm? I've had a hell of a morning, Jane! I was up all night doing that voiceover and then I did the radio interview.
I was quite pleased with myself.
And then I went to The Colonial Club and, for some reason, nobody would talk to me.
I was up most of the night, too, Toast, cleaning this collection of antique firearms.
Yeah, what the hell is it with all that? Where did you get them from? Michael Winner loaned them to me.
I'm kind of stuck with them now, since he's dead.
And then this morning, I heard your interview.
You know that play's been running for And in all that time, no-one, not one single person, has revealed the climax of the play, where the murderer is unmasked? Yes.
But today, live on Woman's Hour, you revealed the name of the murderer.
Yes! You see what you've done, Toast? Yes? Think of the implications for a moment.
Yes? Well? Oh, God! What are the implications? The implications are that, as a result of your actions this morning, no director, or actor for that matter, will ever want anything to do with you.
Well, that's why people weren't talking to me in The Colonial Club earlier.
Anyone see Mark Rylance on The Culture Show last night? What's that smell, Royce? It's dreadful.
Smell, Purchase? Yes.
It smells like someone's just fucked up their career! You were being shunned, Toast.
Shunned? Yes.
You've done something really dreadful by giving away the end of that play.
The Colonial is an actors' club.
They were quite right to shun you.
It's not nice being shunned.
Luckily, shunning doesn't last long.
You can go back in a couple of days.
But anyone who wanted to see that Moosetrap play probably won't bother now because you told them who the murderer is.
No, no, Jane! It's like that Titanic film.
Everybody knew what was going to happen in the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.
This is very different, Toast.
Honestly, Jane, I don't think anybody's going to agree with you about this.
It's like that Titanic film.
Everybody knew what was going to happen in the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.
This is very different, Toast.
Honestly, Davison, I don't think anybody's going to agree with you about this! It's like that Titanic film.
Everyone knew what was going to happen in the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.
This is very different, Toast! Oh! Honestly, Mrs P, I don't think anybody's going to agree with you about this.
It's like that Titanic film.
Everyone knew what was going to happen in the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.
This is very different, Toast.
To be honest, Ed, a few people have said that to me now.
It's quite serious, to give away the ending of such a legendary play.
It probably doesn't matter much to the cast, they've been in it for years, completely zombified, going through the motions.
But 60 years! Can you imagine? I say? Hello? Hello? Oh! Er I'm Steven Toast.
I'm playing the detective.
Oh! Oh, yes, our new cast member! I-I'm Ken Suggestion.
Good to meet you, Post.
No, no.
Philip, dear? Philip, this is our new cast member, Post.
As in deaf as a And I'm Penny Traitor.
Is the producer or director around? Sorry? The producer or director, are they around? No, no.
It's just us, I'm afraid.
Well, who takes charge of rehearsals? Rehearsals? I haven't even been sent a script! Oh, well.
Well, there may be a copy of the play lying around somewhere.
Who would have one? Albert may have a copy.
Yes, yes.
Is he around? Oh, fucking hell! Albert! Albert! What news? What? Of the outside world? We're a bit isolated in here.
Oh, right.
Well, erm David Cameron is still PM.
Not that you'd notice.
I mean, I can't even remember what he looks like! Who?! Really? Any sign of that script? Yes.
Here's Albert now.
Do you have a copy of the play for Post here? Thank you, Albert.
The play's awful but, luckily, I don't appear until the third act when I quickly solve the murder.
Yes, and you know who did it? The chauffeur! We all know that, thanks to you.
All right! Anyway, looking forward to seeing the play again.
What a relief to see a show that isn't full of bad language, immigrants and sex-change artists.
And unlike most modern dramas, it isn't set in the north, glorifying the type of scroungers one sees on Benefits Street.
And I don't even have to follow the plot or anything, because I know the chauffeur did it.
All right, Blair, keep it down! Still, a regular job for you, Toast.
Play your cards right, you could be in gainful employment for the next 30 years! Where the bloody hell is he? It's not like him to be late.
Ah, there he is! Who the fuck is that? Denis Thwaites.
Retired commander of the Household Cavalry Regiment.
Still likes to wear the uniform! Denis, good to see you.
Gin! Tonic! No, no, Dennis, this chap isn't a waiter.
He's my brother.
Why does he think I'm a waiter? Cos you bloody look like one! A lot of people have remarked on it.
It's the 'tache.
Thwaites, Dennis! This is Steven Toast.
Toast, Steven? Toast, Blair! Ah! How was your journey from Ipswich, Dennis? Come down on Farage, did you? On who? Farage, Dennis' horse.
What, did he ride a horse all the way from Ipswich? Yes! The only reason I'm meeting Dennis here, in this bugger house, it's one of the few places in London where you can still tie up your horse outside.
Christ, Cambridge! Roadworks at Cambridge, were there, Dennis? Roadworks, Cambridge! You said you were using that new device, Sat Nav for the Elderly.
Rubbish, useless! It probably doesn't work on horses.
Why the fuck is he talking in that crazy way? Since Dennis retired from the regiment, he's landed himself a cushy little job at the BBC.
He's the announcer on that university quiz programme.
Oh, that! Yes, I haven't seen that in 30 years, but there again, I never watch television.
Though I have heard Breaking Bad is very good.
What happens is, the student presses a buzzer when he, or she thinks they know the answer, and Dennis gives the name and university.
That's the easiest job in the world! Mm.
Dennis is getting a bit tired of the travelling, though, especially since he goes everywhere by horse, so he's retiring.
I could do that job.
How much do you earn in a year? Half a million! Shit! Could you put a word in for me? Certainly, yes! You'd have to watch yourself, Toast.
You'll probably have to meet Paxman.
Who? Jeremy Paxman, the miserable presenter! Year above me at Eton.
He was a sullen little prick even then.
Who cares? Half a million quid just for saying the names of a bunch of students? Ha! Easy, peasy! Don't do that, Toast.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats.
"Tonight's performance will begin in five minutes.
" I say Mm? It's a little queer that there aren't any directors or stage managers around! We've been at it so long that everything more or less happens automatically! No real dramas to speak of.
Apart from Ken.
Ken? What about Ken? He just occasionally forgets his lines when a new actor joins the production, or-or there isn't a full house.
One minute until curtain up.
All right, let's do this.
What? There's no-one there! I need a full house! I can't go on! Get a fucking grip, woman! What did he say? I am Inspector Attenborough from Scotland Yard.
One of your servants rang me about a murder, so I wish to interview you all.
No? You don't come on till act three! Right.
I'll be back.
Yes, I know, It's act three.
I'm on in a moment.
There's not many in tonight.
So, what time did you hear this scream, Colonel Granville? I, erm, er, er, er Miss Crabtree informed us that she retired at 11.
Was it after that? Say your line, man! I've forgotten it.
The chauffeur did it.
Oh, bloody hell! I say, the chauffeur did it! Yes! 'I say, the chauffeur did it! The chauffeur did it! 'The chauffeur did it!' 'The chauffeur is the murderer, yes.
'The chauffeur is the murderer, yes.
' There's not many in tonight.
# There's a chill # In the air # The still # Of the night # The stalls and theatre bare # There's not many in tonight # There is a chill # Within the air # The still of the night # The stalls and theatre bare # There's not many in tonight # There is a chill # Within the air # The still of the night # The stalls and theatre bare # There's not many in tonight There's not many in to Oh, thank God! Finishing touches! Ha-ha! Starter for ten.
I think Oxford is the better team, Toast.
Maybe you should swap Sooty and Richard Osman? It doesn't matter, Ed.
I wanted Salman Rushdie and Germaine Greer instead of Sooty and Sweep, but I couldn't find their picteers.
Why do we have to have any women? I've never noticed a woman on that quiz programme.
Who cares, Blair? It's important that I get this job.
That play's a disaster.
Ed, you be Oxford.
Blair, you're Cambridge.
Get on your buzzers and I'll practice saying the names.
"What ionic logarithm "is the carbon derivative of ten?" Well, come on, buzz.
Who'd be good at chemistry? You've selected mostly classicists and journalists.
Well, can we at least get rid of Janet Street-Porter? Just press anything! Oxford, Fry! Well, I don't know the answer.
Me neither.
Have you got any questions on military history? Look, scrap that.
Randomly press and I'll say the names.
Hm Cambridge, Yentob! Oxford, Kureishi! Cambridge, Sweep! Ah, this is quite fun, actually.
Isn't it? And I'm excellent at it.
Yes, it's noticeable that the women haven't answered anything.
When's your audition? Three o'clock.
Will Paxman be there? Apparently so.
It's funny you've never heard about him.
I never watch television.
Although, I hear Breaking Bad is very good.
Sorry, Toast, I think it's electrocuting me! I'm not quite sure where we are, Toast.
Since they closed down Television Centre, nobody really knows where the BBC actually is now.
I haven't got a clue either, Ed.
Do you have a sat nav? Good thought, Toast.
As it happens, I bought one just recently.
Let's see "You are now turning into ".
St Wafford.
"What the hell's the time? Fuck this!" Um, was that? Yeah.
"Who the hell are you? Albrighton! "Ah, fuck this!" There it is! Stop! What the? Like the sound of that? Thought not.
Who the hell are you again? Who the hell? I'm Steven Toast.
I'm here for the university quiz-show voiceover gig.
Steven Toast.
And what are your qualifications for this job exactly? I'm an experienced actor and voiceover artist.
I'm a little surprised you haven't heard of me.
Steven Toast Hang on a second.
Oh, God! You're that idiot that gave away the ending of The Moosetrap.
I went on Woman's Hour on Radio 4 and was asked a question - Did you give away the ending of The Moosetrap? I was asked a question on said show - Did you give away the ending of The Moosetrap? Many topics were discussed, one of which was The Moo- Did you give away the ending of The Moosetrap?! It was a promotional interview! She asked me the question and I? Did you give away the ending of The Moosetrap?!! Why the fuck do you keep asking me that? You're a rude fella, if you don't mind me saying.
And you're an idiot! What did you just say? You'll apologise for that, big boy.
No, I won't.
What's that meant to be? That's my sculpture of the Angel of the North, which I made out of matchsticks.
Well, if you don't apologise, I'll smash your sculpture of the Angel of the North, which you made out of matchsticks.
You wouldn't dare.
That was a very stupid thing to do.
Paxman? Paxman? Where the hell did he go? And so it becomes very clear, an unlikely killer, to be sure, but there was only one person who had the motive, means and opportunity to commit such a foul deed.
The murderer is Lady Beddington.
Huh? That's a surprise.
What?! No, no, you idiot! The chauffeur did it! No.
It was Lady Beddington.
No, no, this is all wrong! The chauffeur did it! My God! I think she's dead.
Oh, brilliant.
What's going on, Toast? I was just trying to shake things up a bit.
How dare you, Post! Toast, you fucknut! You bloody ruined it! Rubbish! Out of my way! Oh, that's right, yeah, go on, desert a sinking ship! Bugger off to Cats, or whatever it is you losers enjoy.
Screw you, old-timers! Good for you, Toast.
Agh! There's not many in tonight.
I know! So you keep saying! and now the show has closed and a wonderful actress has died.
I didn't know she was one of your clients, Jane.
The only thing she did apart from that play was an episode of Poldark in 1973.
It's such a tragedy! And all down to you.
You won't be able to show your face around here for a while.
I think you should go and live in France.
And one more thing What's this I hear about you on that university quiz-show on the BBC? Ah Just about to tell me, were you? Going behind my back, trying to get jobs on your own, were you, you fucking weasel! I just fancied the - "Fancied myself as an agent," by the sounds of things.
What have I said? You are never Never to try and get jobs on my own.
Never, ever try and get jobs on your own.
You haven't got this job, anyway.
Who got it? Well, not you, because apparently, you had some kind of argument with Jeremy Paxman, destroyed his matchstick model of the angel of the north and threw him out of a window.
Did you throw Jeremy Paxman out of a window? No! Well, kind of.
I didn't throw him out of a window, though he did end up going through a window.
Unbelievable behaviour, Toast.
You have created a perfect fiasco! And now you're "kind of" throwing Jeremy Paxman out of windows and destroying his matchstick models.
Really, Toast? I mean, really?! I think you know what to do.
And do a good job this time.
Your last attempt wasn't very thorough.
Here's your starter for ten.
What was the name of the second-rate actor who single-handedly forced the closure of the legendary play The Moosetrap, after a successful 60-year run in London's West End? Cambridge, Clacy-Smith! Steven Post? Near enough.