Prince of Darkness Christmas Special

Prince of Darkness Christmas Special

Peter Mandelson, Prince of Darkness, sits in a large, overstuffed leather chair, his head tilted backwards. There is a slice of cucumber on each eye, avocado spread over his face, and something white and glossy over his lips. Terry enters the room, and does a double-take.

TERRY: Blimey, boss, I didn't know you were such a messy eater!

MANDELSON: [Speaking with minimal lip movement so as not to disturb the face-pack] Ver funigh Terrah. I'm preping for the photo.

TERRY: Photo, boss?

MANDELSON: Yegh, ve Christmas card...

TERRY: Boss! You 'aint, are you.

MANDELSON: [Giving up on the face-pack preservation speak] Yes, actually, Terry. I very much am. I need to project myself back into the limelight, my natural habitat.

TERRY: You sure it 'aint the planet Zog?

MANDELSON: What?

TERRY: Your natural habitat. Little green men from the planet Zog.

MANDELSON: What's the time?

TERRY: Half one.

MANDELSON: [Wiping his face with a towel] That's me done then. Time to freshen up and get the togs on.

TERRY: Do what?

MANDELSON: The photographer's here at three.

TERRY: But that's and hour and a...

MANDELSON: One has to look one's best...

TERRY: Yeah. Never mind.

Three o'clock. The doorbells rings, then rings again, then again.

MANDELSON: Terry. Terry! TERRY. TERRY!!! THE PHOTOGRAPHER'S HERE, CAN YOU LET HIM IN. TERRRRRYYYYYYY.

Terry, headphones on, is in the kitchen watching the highlights of the second test match, while listening to The Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique.

TERRY: Eh? [Takes off the headphones] Did you say something, boss?

MANDELSON: [From the wings] Too late, I'll get it.

Enter Mandelson. He is wearing a red hat with white fur trim, a very tight red shirt, skimpy red shorts, knee-length patent boots, and is carrying the world's dinkiest sack over his shoulder.

TERRY: Boss. You've got to be joking.

MANDELSON: [Opening the door] No, Terry, I'm...

GARY: [The photographer] You've got to be joking. This is a set up right?

MANDELSON: [Getting angry] Look, my legs are one of my best features, and...

GARY: [On his mobile phone] Ron, you playing practical jokes again? A bit of festive spoofing going on, or what? Not this time mate...

TERRY: Mate [to Gary] it think he's for real.

MANDELSON: Of course this is for real. I need to get people's attention...

TERRY: There's every chance of that, Jesus...

GARY: [Hanging up, holding onto Terry for support as his knees start to buckle with laughter] Do you really...

MANDELSON: [Becoming emotional] Yes I really, really...

TERRY: Boss, you are 'avin a tin bath...

MANDELSON:...really hate you! [He turns and runs from the room]

GARY: [Wiping the tears from his eyes] Is he always...

TERRY: Yes mate, always.

GARY: Blimey.

TERRY: Fancy a lager? The cricket's on, he'll be a while calming down.

GARY: Yeah, cheers. Got a smoke?

TERRY: Yeah, come on, in the kitchen.

GARY: Not going too well, is it?

TERRY: The photo shoot?

GARY: The cricket.

TERRY: Nah, nah, it 'aint.

GARY: What'll he wear next.

TERRY: I don't want to think about it.

Exit Terry and Gary, helpless with laughter.