Some time ago, Stephen, a tasteful fellow, asked for a few more rewrites
with Jarriere in them. And yesterday, I was given some advice by an
expert. So:
"Rumours of Death"
by Harriet Monkhouse
[Stand-off in cellar. Servalan chained to wall, Avon and Anna staring at
each other. A door opens and Jarriere rushes down the steps.]
SERVALAN: Jarriere! Over here! Free me and shoot those traitors!
JARRIERE: Oh, hullo, Supreme Commander, no, sorry, it's Madam President
now, isn't it?
SERVALAN: Yes, yes, just get on with it, you idiot!
JARRIERE: Er, I'm sorry, Supreme... er, Madam President, but I can't.
SERVALAN: What?
JARRIERE: Well, I'm working for Mrs Chesku today.
[Avon rolls his eyes in annoyance at ceasing to be centre of attention.
Jarriere suddenly swings round and glasses him.]
CALLY: Why did you do that?
JARRIERE: Because.
ANNA (sternly): Because what?
JARRIERE: Because I hate him for being English! Because it would be
impolite not to! Because he probably plays for Rangers, and anyway when
did he invent frogs? Because Iain Coleman said I would! [He pauses, and
looks round, rubbing his eyes.] Oh - ah - I'm sorry, Mrs Chesku, I'm not
quite sure what's going on here...
[As he huddles on the cellar floor, suffering in an entirely realistic and
totally unaesthetic manner, Avon is inclined to concur.]