Ah, good morning, sir.
|
Good morning. I'd ... I'd like t... to buy some... I'd
like to buy ..some some...
|
Don't I know you? No, I don't think so, sir. |
Uh, we didn't meet at the Preston Walkers... No, sir. |
No. Right, well, I want to buy some little... |
Oh, of course, I'm so sorry, I've seen you on television. I'm sorry, I thought I knew you.
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No, sir, I don't work on television, I work in this shop.
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Oh, I see. Ah. Well, I want to buy some little....
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Oh, of course! I'm so sorry! Now I know who you are, I'm very sorry. |
Not at all. Now, sir, can I help you? |
Yes, uh... you don't still do that scheme of purchasing people's...
|
Purchasing what, sir? Souls. |
Fish, sir?
|
No no no no no, it's a scheme you used to do... I wondered if you still did it. |
What scheme is this, sir?
|
Uh, well, I mean, you would, say, give me 24 years of power, riches, wealth, and pick of all the women in the world, and in return, I would give you.. |
What, sir? My soul. Is that all? Yes. |
Well, it doesn't seem a very good bargain on my part. Well, you do get a soul. |
Can you eat it? No no no, it's a soul. Oh, you can cash it at Barclays...
|
 No no no, it's not a thing, it survives after death. A reputation. No. Smell? |
No no no no no, it's not physical. You just get my soul after my death. A dead soul. Yes.
|
Not even alive?
Well, no. |
Well, I don't want to seem a wet
blanket, but it doesn't seem a very tempting offer.
|
Well, look, I'm a businessman, I'm prepared to give you my soul, and some cash. |
And in return, I give you anything you want. Yeah. |
Power, riches, women... Yeah, the usual things, yeah...
|
Cost you a bit, won't it? Well, isn't a soul worth a bit? |
Not a lot, sir, there's not a lot you can do with 'em. Uh, to be honest, I've got stacks of 'em here, whole bloody shelves of them. It's difficult to know what to do with the bleeders. |
Oh, I see... Yeah, and you have to dust them, label them, catalogue them... Yeah
|
And then they just sit there, soulfully. Well, they do sound a bit dull.
|
They are dull, sir. I mean, if people left their privates, it would be more interesting. At least you'd have something to show you friends. |
Uh... I don't suppose you'd be interested in... |
What? No no, I couldn't...
|
No, I wouldn't take it, sir. |
Well, what about if I gave you my car? Ah, this does sound more interesting! |
Yeah, I mean, I could leave you my car, my house, and my life insurance policy... |
|
And in return, you get 6 months on the Riviera. |
Not 24 years? Oh, well, no, that was for the full Medieval soul, sir. |
Well, what about if I gave you my wife's soul as well?
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And her body? All right. In advance?
|
Well, not after 24 years? |
Well, let's face it, sir, and to be a little bit brutal and a touch chauvinistic, after 24 years, your wife's body isn't going to be worth all THAT much. Oh, I see... |
Shall I call 'round for it tonight? What? Your wife's body? Uh, well...
|
You get Helen of Troy... Yeah, alright.
|
Good. Fill that in sir... |
 |
 |
And so, Kenneth Hargreaves of Watkins Finance sold his soul to the Devil for their Ford Zodiac, the deeds of their three bedroom maisonette, his cash endowment policy, and his wife's body, in advance. So, the next morning... |
|
Morning, darling. Morning. Nice night? |
Mmm, wonderful. |
Devil of a time, eh? |
Rather... |
Well, I suppose I'd better push off. You leaving for work? |
Uh, no, I'm leaving for 24 years debauchery, actually, darling. Oh! |
It's just a business deal I've done with Frank. Frank? Yes, Frank Satan. |
Oh, shall I pack a bag? Uh, no no no, I'll pick up some things in Troy. |
Darling... Yes? |
It's just a small thing... |
Well, it's what you do with it, really... |
No, no no no... uh, his tail... Yes?
|
Well, does it... I mean, when you're in bed... doesn't it... |
Comes off. Oh... Oh, yes, it unscrews. Oh...
|
Yes, he unscrewed it before he came to bed, propped it up in the corner.
|
Oh, I see. Do we have a copy of Milton? Why?
|
Well, it doesn't mention an unscrewing tail, does it? Oh, dear... |
The tell-tale unscrewing tail gave the first tiny indication that it might not be the Devil at all, but only Ron Badger from the electric shop. The second indication occurred later that evening, in a tiny commercial hotel, near Bognor Regis. | 
Why've we come to Bognor? Very nice, Bognor.
|
You might've made an effort on my first night. I have. I brought you some peeled prawns.
|
Well, that's not a banquet. That is a treat. They're co-op peeled prawns, they're quite expensive.
|
How come your tail unscrews?
|
Hygiene. Hygiene? Yes, personal hygiene, for cleaning.
|
|
It doesn't say anything about it in Milton. |
What did he know about it? He was blind! |
Oh, yeah. Still, you'd a thought he'd mention something as important as an unscrewing tail for personal hygiene. |
He was writing a poem, not a medical textbook. Anyway, how would you like to sleep on a tail? |
Do you use it with girls? |
Don't be filthy! The tail is for...
|
For what? For, uh... swatting flies and things.
|
Do all angels have tails? Uh, small ones.
|
Small tails? No, small angels have tails, big ones haven't. Why not? |
Lay off the bleeding questions, will ya? Now, do you want a bird tonight, or not? Yeah, alright. |
Who'dya want? Juliet. Juliet? She's 14. She's underage.
|
Well, never mind, bring her anyway. Not in a commercial hotel in Bognor,
I'm not! Most, you'll get 10 years for that.
|
|
All right, all right, bring me Helen of Troy.
|
A very good choice, couldn't be
|
 |
Come in, 'elen! |
'ello, 'ow'dya do? Very pleased to meet you. |
Who's that? Helen of Troy. Get on. She is.
|
Helen of bleedin' Edge-Briston, more like! |
That's a Trojan accent. This bird's from Edge-Briston! She's from Troy!
|
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All right, we'll soon settle this.
|
Menelaus.
|
Blimey, it IS Helen of Troy!
|
Would I lie? |
