| GEOFFREY: Yes?
[pause]
Is it about the hedge?
[pause]
Look. I am awfully sorry, but--
GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: Who?
GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: Yes, I see.
GRIM REAPER: I am death.
GEOFFREY: Yes, well, the thing is, we've got some people from America for
dinner tonight, and--
ANGELA: Who is it, darling?
GEOFFREY: It's a 'Mr. Death' or something. He's come about the reaping? I
don't think we need any at the moment.
ANGELA: Hello. Well, don't leave him hanging around outside, darling. Ask
him in.
GEOFFREY: Darling, I don't think it's quite the moment.
ANGELA: Do come in. Come along in. Come and have a drink. Do. Come on.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: It's one of the little men from the village.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Uh, do come in.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Please.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: This is Howard Katzenberg from Philadelphia...
HOWARD KATZENBERG: Hi.
ANGELA: ...and his wife, Debbie,...
DEBBIE: Hello there.
ANGELA: ...and these are the Portland-Smythes, Jeremy and Fiona.
FIONA PORTLAND-SMYTHE: Good evening.
ANGELA: This is Mr. Death.
[spooky music]
Well, do get Mr. Death a drink, darling.
GEOFFREY: Uh, yes.
HOWARD: Mmm.
ANGELA: Mr. Death is a reaper.
GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.
ANGELA: Hardly surprising, in this weather. Ha ha ha.
EVERYONE: [laughing]
HOWARD: So, you still, uh, reap around here, do you, Mr. Death?
GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: That's about all he says.
DEBBIE: Heh.
GEOFFREY: There's your drink, Mr. Death.
ANGELA: Do sit down.
DEBBIE: We were just talking about some of the awful problems facing the
thir-- [gasp]
[crash]
ANGELA: Ohh. Would you prefer white? I-- I'm afraid we don't have any beer.
JEREMY PORTLAND-SMYTHE: The Stilton's awfully good.
GRIM REAPER: I am not of this world.
[spooky music]
GEOFFREY: Good Lord.
GRIM REAPER: I am death.
DEBBIE: Well, isn't that extraordinary? We were just talking about death
only five minutes ago.
ANGELA: Yes, we were.
HOWARD: Mmm. Mm.
ANGELA: You know, whether death is really the end.
DEBBIE: As my husband, uh, Howard, here, feels, or whether there is-- and
one so hates to use words like 'soul' or 'spirit', but--
JEREMY: But what other words can one use?
GEOFFREY: E-- exactly.
GRIM REAPER: You do not understand.
DEBBIE: Ah, no. Obviously not.
HOWARD: Let me just tell you something, Mr. Death.
GRIM REAPER: You do n--
HOWARD: Just one moment. I'd like to express, on behalf of everybody here,
what a... really unique experience this is.
JEREMY: Hear, hear.
ANGELA: Yes, we're so delighted, uh, that you dropped in, Mr. Death.
HOWARD: Can I just finish, please?
DEBBIE: Mr. Death, is there an after-life?
HOWARD: Dear, if you could just wait, please, a moment,--
ANGELA: Are you sure you wouldn't like some sherry?
DEBBIE: [mumbling]
HOWARD: Angela. Angela, I'd like to just say this at this time, if I could,
please. Really.
GRIM REAPER: Be quiet!
HOWARD: Can I just say this at this time, please?
GRIM REAPER: Silence! I have come for you.
ANGELA: You mean... to--
GRIM REAPER: Take you away. That is my purpose. I am death.
GEOFFREY: Well, that's cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn't it?
HOWARD: I don't see it that way, Geoff. [sniff] Let me tell you what I
think we're dealing with here: a potentially positive learning experience
to get an--
GRIM REAPER: Shut up! Shut up, you American. You always talk, you
Americans. You talk and you talk and say 'let me tell you something'
and 'I just wanna say this'. Well, you're dead now, so shut up!
HOWARD: Dead?
GRIM REAPER: Dead.
ANGELA: All of us?
GRIM REAPER: All of you.
GEOFFREY: Now, look here. You barge in here, quite uninvited, break glasses,
and then announce, quite casually, that we're all dead. Well, I would
remind you that you are a guest in this house, and--
[whock]
Ah! Oh.
GRIM REAPER: Be quiet! Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous, and none
of you have got any balls.
DEBBIE: Can I ask you a question?
GRIM REAPER: What?
DEBBIE: How can we all have died at the same time?
[silence]
GRIM REAPER: The salmon mousse.
GEOFFREY: Darling, you didn't use canned salmon, did you?
ANGELA: I'm most dreadfully embarrassed.
GRIM REAPER: Now the time has come. Follow. Follow me.
[clunk]
[bang bang bang bang bang]
GEOFFREY: Just... testing. Sorry.
GRIM REAPER: Follow me. Now.
[deathly music]
Come.
[eerie music]
ANGELA: Well, the fishmonger promised me he'd have some fresh salmon, and
he's normally so reliable.
RANDOM: Stumm. Stumm.
JEREMY: Can we keep our glasses?
RANDOM: Mmm hmm.
FIONA: Oh. Good idea. [hiccup]
RANDOM: Come on.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
HOWARD: Okay.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
DEBBIE: Hey, I didn't even eat the mousse.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Honestly, darling, I'm so embarrassed. It really is embarrassing.
I mean,...
HOWARD: I suppose... [mumbling]
ANGELA: ...to serve salmon with botulism at a dinner party is social death
for me.
GEOFFREY: Well, all right.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
JEREMY: Uh, shall we take our cars?
FIONA: Do we need them?
GEOFFREY: Why not?
ANGELA: Yes. Why not?
HOWARD: [mumbling] ...is my vote.
ANGELA: Good idea.
RANDOM: Yes. Why not?
GUESTS: [mumbling]
RANDOM: Shall we go separately?
[car sounds]
GUESTS: [mumbling]
[spooky music]
GRIM REAPER: Behold... Paradise.
[elevator music] |
