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Humorous Scripts: The Pompous-Gitsí Den Author: Stuart Macfarlane

COMMENTATOR:                Here we are again at the Pompous-Gitsí Den where another batch of desperate entrepreneurs will try to get                                           our arrogant, tight-fisted but disgustingly rich investors to part with their cash. First up we have Graham Bell with a                                           brand new concept in telecommunications.

F/X:                                              Footsteps


GRAHAM:                              Iím Graham, Chief Executive of Galactic Communications. Today Iím hoping to raise five-million pounds for a 20% share in the company. Our product is an amazing new phone, the GC-6Gi. This device can send text, photos, music, videos and even thought waves to anyone on any planet in our Galaxy.


DUNGCAN:                           Wait! Wait! I really must interrupt. Did you say Ďto any planet in the Galaxyí?


GRAHAM:                              Thatís right to any . . .


DUNGCAN:                           (INTERUPTING) That is absolutely preposterous. Are you trying to tell us that with that phone you can talk to                                         anyone anywhere?


GRAHAM:                              Exactly. The phone will even translate any alien language into that of the user.


DUNGCAN:                           This is ridiculous. Iíve never heard such utter nonsense.


COMMENTATOR:                Well Dungcan doesnít sound too happy with our  budding entrepreneur but will Richbastard Moneygrabber come to                                              his rescue.


RICHBASTARD:                   Dungcan, give the guy a chance to talk. Look I own eight-hundred technology companies and to be honest Graham                                              this device seems too good to be true. Can you give us a demo?


GRAHAM:                              Certainly, try for yourself. Press the menu button and select one of the two-billion planets that have been pre-                                      programmed.


F/X:                                                BEEP  BEEP


GRAHAM:                              Okay, so youíve selected one of the planets orbiting Betelgeuse Ė good choice. Using the arrow buttons select                                             any sector of the planet.


F/X:                                                BEEP  BEEP  BEEP  BEEP


GRAHAM:                               Right, now press the button marked Ďdialí.


F/X:                                                Phone ringing


RICHBASTARD:                   No one seems to be answering.


GRAHAM:                              There could be several reasons for that. The planet may be uninhabited, you may have chosen a deserted area, it                                               may be the middle of their night, the alien might be in the bath or they might not have invented telephones on                                            that planet yet.


DUNGCAN:                           Or your phone may be a piece of crap.


COMMENTATOR:                Oh dear, after that disastrous demo, Graham has angered our Pompous-Gits. Heíll really need to work hard                                              if heís going to get their money.


DEBBYBABY:                       Hello, Iím Debbybaby Hardlady and I must say Iím fast losing interest. Tell me, do you even have a patent for                                         that thing.


GRAHAM:                              Yes. Not only have I a patent for the technology but I have also patented all forms of communications between                                               any planets in the Galaxy.


DUNGCAN:                           Nonsense. You couldnít possible get a patent for that.


GRAHAM:                              Well I have Ė whatís more if beings on different planets are already talking to each other then my company can                                             claim royalties on every call that they have made in the past ten million years.


DUNGCAN:                           How could you possibly get a patent for that?


GRAHAM:                              Iíve got contacts.


RICHBASTARD:                   Letís get back to practicalities, whatís your projected profit for the next five years?


GRAHAM:                              Eight-thousand billion pounds.


DUNGCAN:                           For a product that doesnít even work?


GRAHAM:                              But the punters donít know that. As far as theyíre concerned itís just a matter of keeping trying -

                                                and every time they do we make   money.


DUNGCAN:                           This is not a business. This is a scam.


GRAHAM:                              Well . . . yeah . . . but a very profitable scam.


DEBBYBABY:                       Graham, come clean with us. Have you actually sold any of these things?


GRAHAM:                              Yes. Last month we sold over three-million pounds worth of phones and weíre also selling distribution rights                                                for every country in the world and every planet in the Galaxy. Only last week we took one-million for the                                                 distribution rights for Mars and four-million for the star group Zuben Elakrab.


DEBBYBABY:                       So are you telling us that with this scam, sorry, business we could quickly become the richest people in the world?


GRAHAM:                              Richest in the Galaxy actually.


DUNGCAN:                           Graham, let me tell you my position on this. What you have here is just a cheap fraud. And the sad thing is                                                  thereís so many bloody gullible people around itís going to work . . . (PAUSE) . . . so Iím in.


DEBBYBABY:                       Me too Ė Iíll give the full five-million for 20% of the company.


RICHBASTARD:                   Wait a minute. I want in on this.


DUNGCAN:                           Hey - I offered first.


DEBBYBABY:                       Right, Iíll up my offer to eight-million pounds.


RICHBASTARD:                   Donít be so bloody greedy Ė I want my share.


DUNGCAN:                           Well youíll need to fight me for it big man.


COMMENTATOR:                Well it seems that our entrepreneur wonít be leaving the  en empty handed and as soon as the fighting stops Iím                                                sure our Pompous-Gits will come to an amiable agreement. Well done Graham.




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