The Plutocrats 
Song The Executive.
Oh, let the welkin ring! Etc.
(The Executive turn [unclear: ound] in their dance and disclose their tailstied in rough spirals by means of safety pins and piece of string.)
They get in a terrible tangle. Etc.
(They conclude their ballet, but before the last bars die away, a shrill violin plays the Laurel and Hardy Entrance tune. Mr Sausage & Mr Nash are now standing in the doorway. They are both greatly altered in facial appearance - small horns are sprouting and they look intensl sinister. They wear red clocks similar to Mr Nemisis', the Executive bow gracefully to them.)
All hail, Oh Mash! Etc.
(Mr Sausage and Mr. Mash ascend the steps.)
Duet and Dance
Sausage and Mash.
We're doing well Etc.
(At the end of the dance, Mr. Sausage and Mr. Mash, very cautiously seat themselves on a couple of chairs. The Executive group themselves round the room. The curtains at the back close very silently.)Mash.
Well our system is actually working. Credit hath charms to pass the Savage Test.
(Enter Lord Vere De Vere at right.)Gilbert.
But Mr. Mash, our bartenders are mercenary creatures who want cash on the spot - or just before the spot. The refinements of credit are far above their heads.. There are whis-pers going round that the crices are going up!page break Mr. Sausage.
(Vehemently) They will not! They dare notEgbert.
But it's an economical law. They must!Mr. Sausage.
(Grandiloquently) I am above Economics. My system does not recognise such a law.Mr. Sausage.
Well, Gentlemen. To the business of the day. Where's Captain Charon?
(The curtains part and Charon is seen sitting on Daisy, his bull who is standingon the top step.)Mr. Sausage.
Take the "Sic Transit" and collect a contingent waiting on the [unclear: ropls dark].Lord Vere de Vere.
(To Charon) I say, haven't I seen you before somewhere?Charon.
Yes - I remember - at the card party at Wong Fu's in Haining Street.Lord Vere de Vere
- Indeed. I'm sure you're mistaken - I-Charon.
(Persistently) You remember when Sergent Murphey came in and took a hand.Mr. Sausage.
(Hastily) I really think it's time you went, Captain.Charon.
We go, we go! Come Daisy, my precious. Away, Away.
(The Curtains close again.)Mr. Sausage.
Where is the member for East Brimstone?
(Enter Mr. Tight left. He is an old man with a white beard.)Mr. Tight.
Good morning, everyone.Mr. Mash.
Where is my underpaid secretary?
(Enter Mr Flee right, He carries a soap-box, and whenever he wishes to speak, mounts on it first. Everything he says is spoken in a highly oratorical manner.)Mr. Flee.
At your service, oh Sausage!
(The strains of Marche Militaire are played, and the chorus of Labour Ministers marches in, singing their chorus.)
We are the flowers......Etc.page break Mr. Mash.
All the elect are present, Stanley.
(The ministsrs sit on the floor.)
Gentlemen, before our meeting, we are to gave an address on the latest developments in radio from the one and only Professor Belly, assisted by the Reverend Scrounger.
(Desultory hand-clapping from the Ministers and the Executive. The curtains part, and Professor Belly is seen, standing on one side of an ultra-modern radio set. The Reverend Scrounger is standing on the other. Both bow profoundly.)
Scrounger and Belley.
by the time we are through Etc.
(come forward, and speak confidentially to the audience)
Though we seem so stiff and starchy Etc.
Though we seem so stiff and starchy Etc.Belly.
And thus we will educate the public taste. I, a radio Moses, will lead you all to the promised land, flowing with symphonies and concertos.
The Devil's Own.
We are the dames Etc.Mr. Sausage.
Ladies - please-Messalina.
We aren't ladies, Mr. Sausage.Mr. Sausage.
Well, we won't go into that. But what are you doing here? Don't you know that we're about to embark on the business of the day?Messalina.
But you forget that the other day you introduced woman suffrage.Helen of Troy.
And we were all elected.Lord Vere de Vere.
You remember - That day after you'd lunched with me at Hellamy's.Mr. Sausage.
(Hastily) Of course - of course. Well - er -page break
(The Devil's Own sit down. Messalina makes eyes at [unclear: Revt sctoon get] who retreats behind Lord Vere de Vere.)Mr. Sausage.
And now gentlemen, to the business of the day. (Mr. Nemesis walks in right, carrying a bag of golf clubs. He wears plus fours, and a perfectly atrocious tie and frightful socks)Mr. Sausage.
Are we never to embark on the business of the day?Mr. Nemesis.
I'm not going to stand this state of affairs much longer.Mr. Tight.
What's wrong with it?Mr. Nemesis.
Everything! The whole system's wrong! You seem secure now, but retribution will get you in the end.Lord Vere de Vere.
Which end?Mr. Nemesis.
(irrelevantly) How's your golf, Messalina?Messalina.
I go round in less and less every day.Lord V de V.
(Humerously) Yes, we can guess that, but he asked about your golf.Mr. Nemesis.
Because I think you and I will take a golfing holiday.Lord V. de V.
Inother words, you're going to rat on us?Mr. Nemesis.
I'm taking a short holiday, if that's what youm ean.Mr. Mash.
Yes, Go and get your things.
(Exit Messalina'. followed by the Devil's Own)Mr. Flee.
(Mounting his box) Any more helpful hints on our economic system before you go on this - er - (suggestively) golfing excursion?Mr. Nemesis.
Yes, There's no free speech in Dulce Domum.Oliver Mash.
Free Speech? My dear man, you ought to hear Lord Vere de Vere at hes best - you'd realise that speech is not only free but good and gaudy.
(Enter Messalina left, carrying an extremely small suit-case.)Messalina.
Yes - but what on earth's that thing you're carrying?Messalina.
Just my things - a change of clothes and a tooth brush.
Mr. Nemesis and Messalina.
We're going away Etc.Stan Sausage.
Well, let us proceed with the business of the day. In the first place -
(A messenger comes running in, right, with a telegram in his handsStan Sausage.
What's all this?Messenger.
It's a telegram from Charon, your Honour.Oliver Mash.
From Charon? Let's have a look!
(They tear open the envelope together and hurriedly inspect the contents. As they look their jaws open wide.)Both.
We're ruined! Ruined! Ruined!Mr. Flee.
Good racious! What can it be?V.de V.
Let's have a look. (He snatches the telegram from them) It says - Have picked up contigent - F.O.B. charonMr. Tight.
That sounds pretty harmless.Oliver Mash.
Harmless? Do you Know what F.O.B. means?Lord V de V.
Free On Board, doesn't it?Both.
(awfully) Freer on Board!Gilbert.
(Jumping up with the rest of the Executive.) Mrs. Freer! What's to be done!Stan Sausage
I don't know - but do it. (As the Executive stands gaping.) Do it, I say!
(The Executive look round aimlessly and then rush off, chat-tering together.)Stan Sausage.
And you know Charon speeds in that ferry, She'll be here any minute. (To the Ministers) Go and see if he's coming.
(The ministers, frightened by his imperious tone, rise hastily and disappear, left.)Oliver Mash.
I have it! We'll give her a dictation test!Lord V.de V.
What in?Oliver Mash.
Didn't she study English under Professor McKenzie.Lord V.de V
So I'm told.Oliver Mash.
Well - we'll give it to her in Anglo Saxon, and she won't understand a word.page break
(Charon enters right with a flying leap)Charon.
My Lords - she's hare!Stan Sausage.
She is alchoholically disguised as Mrs. Beer, your graces.Oliver Mash.
Go and give her a dictation test in Anglo Saxon.Char on.
But I don't know any Anglo Saxon.Stan Sausage.
Splendid! That'll make it much harder to understand.Charon.
I run, I run, Away, Away, (He leaps out, right)Vere de Vere.
You know I'm rather interested in this Beer woman.Mr. Tight.
But you're interested in anything that's not the remotest alcoholic significance.Vere de Vere.
Oh shut up Champ. By the way - why exactly is it that everyone calls you Chimp?Mr. Flee.
Oh, that's an old one - because he's always at the top of the poll.Mr Tight.
Not at all, I am called Chimp because my inferiors always ape me!Oliver Mash.
I wonder how Charon's getting on? I hops he hasnt succumbed to Mrs. Beer's charms.
(Charon leaps in again right.)Charon.
She knows it my Lords!Mr. Tight.
She knows Anglo Saxon?Stan Sausage.
Your Anglo Saxon?Charon.
Every word of it, Your honours - even more than I know myself.Oliver Mash.
Well, hurry - go and give her another test in Erse - and if that fails, try American.Charon.
It shall be done, Your Worship.
(He leaps out with astounding agility.)Stan Sausage.
(With awful emphasis) You know - I sont think my constitution can stand the strain.Oliver Mash.
(deavily) You can knock me down with a feather.vere do Vere.
The lady seems to be a highly accomplished linguist.Stan Sausage.
She isn't a lady from all accounts. (Pause) Oh! This awful waiting.)Charon.
Oh my dear employment! page break difficult language.Mash.
I think it would be much better if you went Stanley.Sausage.
(Politely). Oh, no, Oliver, You're much cleverer than I am.Mash.
(Bitterly). I can see this is going to be a battle of wits.Mrs Beer.
How brave of you both to come into the battle unarmed.Sausage.
And if we waste time he'll manage to scrape through the Erse. Oliver, you'll have to go!Mrs Beer
Suppose I go? Will that be alright?Sausage.
Please take this thing seriously, Mrs Beer.Mrs Beer.
I am never serious. Like Mr. Simpson. I have realised the unimportance of being Ernest.Mash.
Well, I suppose I must make the sacrifice for the common good. Though I'm afraid you'll have a substantial advantage over me by the time I get back.Mrs Beer.
What language are you going to give Lieutenant Brewer?Mash.
(He goes out reluttantly and ponderously right. Sausage heaves a sigh of relief, and approaches Mrs Beer nervously, doing finger wiggle and playing with his hair excitedly. He smiles goofily at her and tentatively places his arm around her. Mrs Beer looks amused.)Sausage.
(With intense significance) And now for the business of the day
Curtain Palls Quickly.