School prize-giving

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Sketch:

(We mix through to the trumpeter at a school prize giving. On the stage of the school hall there is a long table behind which are sitting several distinguished people. A bishop in a grey suit and purple stock and dog collar gets up.)

1st Bishop: My Lord Mayor, Lady Mayoress, it gives me very great pleasure to return to my old school, to present the prizes in this centenary year. This school takes very justifiable pride in its fine record of… aaaaagh! (Hands pull him down behind the table. Fighting, punching, struggle, grunts etc. No reaction at all from the distinguished guests. The bishop's head reappears for a moment. ) … scholarship and sporting achievement in all… aaaagh!

(He disappears again. More noises. Up comes another bishop dressed identically.)

2nd Bishop: I'm, I'm afraid there's been a mistake. The man who has been speaking to you is an impostor. He is not in fact the 'Bishop of East Anglia, but a man wanted by the police. I am the Bishop of East Anglia and anyone who doesn't believe me can look me up in the book. Now then, the first prize is this beautiful silver cup, which has been won by me. (he puts the silver cup into a sack) Next we come to the Fairfax Atkinson Trophy for outstanding achievement in the field of Applied Mathematics. Well, there was no-one this year who reached the required standard so it goes in my sack. And by an old rule of the school all the other silver trophies also go in my sack … aaagh!

(He is dragged down by an unseen hand More sounds of fighting, noisier than before even. A Chinaman in Mao jacket and cap appears.)

Chinaman: Velly solly for hold-up … no ploblem now … me are Bishop of East Anglia, now plesent plizes … Eyes down for first plize … The Fyffe-Chulmleigh Spoon for Latin Elegaics… 'goes to … People's Republic of China! Aaaagh!

(The Chinaman is dragged down beneath the table as were the others. Again sound of struggle, thumps etc. A plainclothes policeman stands up.)

Detective: Good evening, everybody. My name's Bradshaw- Inspector Elizabeth Bradshaw, of the Special Branch Speech Day Squad, but I'd like you to think of me as the Bishop of East Anglia, and I'd like to present the first prize, the Grimwade Gynn Trophy to…

(A shot. He leaps backwards. Sound of machine guns and exploding shells. Two men in amy uniform with camouflage sticking out of tin helmets rush up to the table and exchange fire. They have a huge bazooka which they fire from time to time.)

Soldier: (appearing from beneath the table, shouting above the din of the battle) Lord Mayor, Lady Mayoress, ladies, gentlemen and boys. Please do not panic. Please keep your heads right down now, and at the back please keep your heads right down. Do not panic, don't look round - this building is surrounded. There is nothing to worry about. I am the Bishop of East Anglia. Now the first prize is the Granville Cup for French Unseen Translation … (explosion and smoke, debris over the stage) and it goes to Forbes Minor… Forbes Minor … right, give him covering fire … (explosion) Come on Forbes. Come on boy. Come and get it. Keep down. (a wretched schoolboy appears on the stage keeping his head down) Well done… (he manages to get the cup but as he stands to shake hands he is shot) Oh… bad luck! The next prize…

(Mix through to a picture on a TV monitor and pull out from monitor to reveal a studio set as for a late-night discussion programme.)