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.]