073 - MCNugget 14.05.07

INTERIOR McQUEEN HOUSE. Knocking at door. Mercedes continues to sit on the sofa. John Paul charges downstairs and opens the door to Craig.
JOHN PAUL: Hey.
CRAIG: All right. (Sees Mercedes.) All right. (Mercedes grimaces.) How’s it going?
JOHN PAUL: Good. Yeh. Meeting Spike later. How’s Sarah?
CRAIG: Coping. Yeh. It’s not exactly a house of fun at the moment.
JOHN PAUL: Tell me about it. Shall we…. Erm? (points upstairs) CRAIG: Yeh.
MYRA: Where you going?
JOHN PAUL: My room.
MYRA: Why don’t you stay down here, watch a bit of TV? We could even talk to each other. Couldn’t we, Craig?
CRAIG: Ah, yeh, all right.
MYRA: Get to know each other.
JOHN PAULT: here’s nothing to know.
MYRA: Is that what Jacqui thought? Or Carmel? When she jumped in bed with her sister’s husband?
MERCEDES: Mum, will you shut up? I’m trying to read over here.
MYRA: I bet you talk to your Mum don’t you, Craig? (Craig wobbles his hand, unsure how to handle Myra.) Not like my lot – sneaking around, whispering their little secrets. Blocking you out of their lives. It’s horrible. Makes you feel like a stranger in your own home.
CRAIG: So, er, er, what you up to with Spike tonight?
MYRA: Spike? Who’s that?
JOHN PAUL: He’s, er, my, we’re, kind of….
MERCEDES: It’s his fella, Mum.
MYRA: So that’s his name. I expect Jacqui to be cagey. Carmel, I didn’t know she had it in her. But you? I thought’d be different.

MERCEDES: Mum, there’ll be plenty more Spikes.
MYRA: But I want to meet this one. Ask him to come over before you got out.
JOHN PAUL: Oh, I don’t know.
MYRA: You can stop for your tea.
MERCEDES: I don’t want smelly little boys bunging up our house. It’s my only night off. I want to plan music for my hen do.
JOHN PAUL: Oh, we’re not gonna stop for tea.
MYRA: Of course you are. Mercedes’ll even put a smile on her face for him, an’ all. (Craig grins at the thought of Mercedes and Spike meeting. John Paul looks to the ceiling for inspiration.)

INTERIOR – EARLY EVENING. MCQUEEN HOUSE. Door bell rings. John Paul goes to answer it. Spike and he make positive eye contact as Spike enters.
SPIKE: You OK? How come you wanted to meet here?
MYRA: Hallo. Pleased to meet you. You must be Spoke.
JOHN PAUL: Spike. She thought it would be a good idea to have something to eat before we go out.
SPIKE: Oh, I see.
MYRA: It’s sausage casserole - my speciality.
SPIKE: That’s great. I’m starving.
MYRA: Erm, this is our Mercedes. You’ve probably met her at the pub.
SPIKE: Yeh, it’s good to meet your properly though.
MERCEDES: Hhmm. Does it take years of practice to get this good at sucking up, or does it come naturally. (She flounces upstairs.)
MYRA: Oh, ignore her. Did John Paul tell you? Our neighbour’s best friend’s cousin plays for your team. So as a family we’re quite used to homosexuals.(Spike grins broadly as Myra leads him into the house and John Paul mouths to the universe – “I’m sorry.”)

INTERIOR EARLY EVENING. MCQUEEN KITCHEN TABLE. THEY’VE JUST FNISHED TEA.
MYRAHe was as cute as a button. Hold on, I’ll go and get the photo album.
MERCEDES: Hhm, probably got drool on there from his girlfriend.
MYRA: Mercedes!
MERCEDES: Well, don’t you remember? It were only about a couple of months ago, Mum, Hannah came round. Stick a blonde wig on him, shift a few pounds and it’d be déjà vu.
SPIKE: Are you saying I’m fat? Is she saying I’m fat?
MYRA: Look, isn’t he a darling?
SPIKE: He’s very sweet. Is that a pink bonnet you’re wearing?
MYRA: Well, er, after all those girls, it just didn’t occur to me he was going to be a boy.
JOHN PAUL: You don’t have to be embarrassed, Mum. It’s only a colour.
MERCEDES: So our little John Paul had to wear Carmel’s hand-me-downs for the next couple of days. No wonder you ended up a fairy. You had no chance, did you, mate?
SPIKE: And what did you spend your formative years dressed as? Cruella de Vil? (Mercedes looks affronted. She’s not used to comebacks. John Paul sniggers.)
JOHN PAUL: See! If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.
MYRA: Oh, look at this one of ‘em all. They’re all fussing round him. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he’s turned out the way he has.
SPIKE: What, gorgeous and intelligent?
MYRA: No, you know, regarding his preferences. Maybe being around all them women had an effect on him in some way.
JOHN PAUL: You think I’ve developed an unnatural affinity with pink?
MYRA: I just think I should have made more of an effort to find a more positive male role model.
JOHN PAUL: You been reading them leaflets again, haven’t you?
MYRA: I don’t know. Now and again I can’t get me head round why this has all gone on. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it all. You seem like a very nice lad, Spoke. Have you got sisters, an’ all?(Spike’s going to answer, but the doorbell rings, allowing the question to hang in the air.)
JOHN PAUL: It might be Craig. I’ll go get it. (Spike’s eyes widen at the thought of Craig arriving.)

INTERIOR. MCQUEEN HOUSE.
JOHN PAUL: Mum, I think we’re gonna head off now.
MYRA: Oh, so soon?
CRAIG: Yeh, yeh, we’re going watch this DJ in town, McNugget. (John Paul and Spike laugh.)
SPIKE: It’s er…. M C Nugget.
CRAIG: Yeh.
MYRA: Well, we can have music here, too. Stop hogging the CD player, you.
MERCEDES: I’m trying to write a playlist for my hen do.
MYRA: Well, what you doing that for, when we’ve got two DJs in the house? You don’t mind helping her, do you, boys? Craig can…. join in.
JOHN PAUL: Well it’s kind of up to Spike really. He’s the…. he’s the DJ.
SPIKE: Well, I suppose McNugget is not on for another two hours, so….
MERCEDES: Whatever. I get the final say, though.
SPIKE: Don’t worry, smiler. I’ve done more hen dos than you’ve had hot waxes.
MERCEDES: Hmm.
JOHN PAUL: I’ll get some CDs then.
CRAIG: Yeh, yeh, I’ll help you out. (Craig and John Paul go upstairs to fetch CDs. Spike notes that Craig is going with John Paul.)

INTERIOR. MCQUEEN HOUSE.
SPIKES-Club Seven.
MERCEDES: The one with the stupid dance.
SPIKE: Yeh, it’s perfect and hens love it.
MYRA: Well, put it on then. And there’s a dance, you say, an’ all?
SPIKE: Yeh, it’s absolutely fantastic.
MYRA: Well, show us how it’s done then.
SPIKE: Mercedes’ll show you how it’s done.
MERCEDES: There’s no way on this earth I’m doing that dance.
MYRA: You show us.
SPIKE: All right, then, but it has been a while since I’ve done this. So. Right. It’s…. you reach. (Spike begins to hesitantly teach Myra the dance.) Er, something to do with a…. a mountain. And then, a rainbow.
MERCEDES: For heaven’s sake. Move it. Right. Reach. Other side.
SPIKE: Ok.
MERCEDES: Climb.
SPIKE: Yeh.
MERCEDES: Again – reaching. (John Paul and Craig return. John Paul is incredulous and bewildered at Mercedes bonding with Spike. Craig does a double take in horror.)
MYRA: Oh, John Paul, come on. Craig, come on. You’re missing all the fun.
MERCEDES: Rainbow!
JOHN PAUL: It’s not really our…. our cup of tea. (Spike, Mercedes and Myra dance a perfectly-timed rainbow.)

INTERIOR. MCQUEEN HOUSE. (The hen party playlist is now complete. John Paul is showing Spike some more photographs and, during the following dialogue, we watch Craig seething with resentment at the attention John Paul is lavishing on Spike.)
JOHN PAUL: Thank you.
SPIKE: What for?
JOHN PAUL: Well, you know, being nice to my evil sister. Humouring my Mum. Completely humiliating yourself by dancing to S Club.
SPIKE: That’s…. that’s our secret.
JOHN PAUL: My lips are sealed. Until that point in the future, of course, where I have to twist your arm. SPIKE: So, you think we got a future? JOHN PAUL: Yeh, yeh I do. You?
SPIKE: Yeh.

MYRA: There you go, love. (A bottle of lager for Craig.)
CRAIG: You know, I’m gonna…. I’m actually gonna get off, so….
JOHN PAUL: What, already?
CRAIG: Yeh.
SPIKE: Er, I’ll have that if it’s going begging.
CRAIG: What, you want my cast-offs?
SPIKE: I’m not really bothered about that sort of thing.
MYRA: Hang on and I’ll, er, get you some casserole. Wrap it up for you.

INTERIOR. MCQUEEN HOUSE. (Craig is leaving. John Paul and Spike are absorbed in the photo album on the sofa.)
MYRA: Right, see you soon, Craig.
CRAIG: All right, yeh, thanks for the….
MYRA: Are you not saying bye to John Paul?
CRAIG: No, no, no, he’s…. he’s busy. I’ll er…. I’m just gonna go.
MYRA: Ok, see you soon, love.
CRAIG: Goodbye. (Craig leaves with his tail between his legs. John Paul does not notice him leave.)