The Q Series

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Home Morticians Kit

INTERIOR OF GROTTY ROOM. PLASTIC EVERYTHING. AWFUL DECOR. A WOMAN HOUSWIFE IS HOOVERING. SPIKE, SECOND SALESMAN (LITTLE CHARLIE) AND THIRD SALESMAN PUSH ON A DOOR ON WHEELS. THEY WEAR DOWDY DOOR-TO-DOOR SALESMEN'S SUITS, TRILBY HATS, SOCKS AND BROWN SHOES. SPIKE HAS FINE PENCIL-LINE MOUSTACHE AND SPECTACLES WITH HEAVY FRAMES.

Spike: Ah, this must be the place, Tom.

Charlie: It's my turn to knock.

SPIKE LIFTS UP CHARLIE TO KNOCKER, WOMAN ANSWERS DOOR. 

Spike: Good morning, madame, I am Mr. Herbert Scrackle. Me and my partners want to know if you are prepared for any sudden bereavement. 

WOMAN LOOKS.

Spike: Good morning, madame...we want to know if you are prepared for any sudden bereavement.

Woman: Whose?

Spike: A near one, dear one, loved one. Or your husband!

Woman:
 What's bereavement mean, then?

Spike:
 Well, kick the bucket. Snuff it.

Woman: 
A stiff?

Spike:
 Yes, a stiff. If anyone snuffed it in this house, are you ready?

Woman: What you sellin', shovels?

Spike: No, no. Is your `usband in?

Woman (whispers): No, no.

Spike: Could I come in and demonstrate?

Woman: 
Well, if you're quick.

THEY GO THROUGH DOOR, CARRYING THEIR GOODS.

Spike: Now then, supposin' suddenly, tomorrow, in this delightful settin' one of your loved ones, your `usband, flakes out and snuffs it right there on yer carpet. What would you do?

Woman: Go through `is pockets...

Spike: That's not good enough, madame, think of the neighbours. They wouldn't like to walk in a room and find the wife going frua a dead man's pockets. Oh no. I have here the answer to this delicate problem. 

SNAPS FINGERS, AND THIRD SALESMAN STARTS TO UNPACK OR ASSEMBLE THE PORTABLE COLLAPSIBLE LIGHTWEIGHT COFFIN. 

Spike: It's the GK L089 Home Coffin Kit. It comes in a wide range of colours to math whichever room the stiff is lying in. 

Woman: Looks very nice.

Spike: It is very nice.

Charlie: Yes. It is very nice. 

Woman: Why aren't you at school, son?

Spike: Oh, he's a fully grown man but he has the body of a boy of twenty. 

WOMAN EXAMINES COFFIN. 

Woman:
 I think this is a bit darft, there's only me `usband in this house and he's young and fit, well he was last night. 

Spike: Ah, but it's best to be prepared.

Charlie: It's best to be prepared. 

THIRD SALESMAN STARTS TO INFLATE A PLASTIC COLLAPSIBLE CORPSE.

Spike: Yes, you can have this coffin on a modest rental until the sad day occurs. And we throw in free this washable polythene inflatable corpse.

Woman: Ohhh, look at him.

Spike: This way you spend many pleasant hours practising how to lay out your loved one when he snuffs it. 

THE WOMAN IS HOLDING THE INFLATED CORPSE. 

Woman: Ooh, feels nice.

Spike: Yes, filled with hot water it can make a very comfortable bedfellow on a cold night. 

Woman: Ooh, I like him.

Spike: The coffin can also be used as a fireside bath. Or in the garden a paddle pool for the kids. Now this is a pound extra. 

SPIKE PRODUCES HANDHELD MICROPHONE.

Woman: Wot is it?

Spike: It's a microphone built into the coffin lid, and it plays back on two speakers. So if your loved one is breathin his larst, you can hear `im in full stereo all over the `ouse. Also there's a tape recorder here, so that those that miss the last gasp can hear a repeat the following night. 

Woman (earnest): I don't want to hear his last gasp all round the house. 

Spike: Then you...aaaaahhhhh! 

HE HAS A HEART ATTACK AND FALLS NEATLY INTO THE COFFIN AND THE LID FALLS IN PLACE.

Charlie: I think we've got a sale, Harry.