Hoodening Play 2001

(final version, with added HP)

Moll:
The 'oodeners are 'ere! Now let's 'ave some hush
Or I'll clout your head with the back of me brush.
Many a skull's been cracked by this broom
For failing to listen when I come in the room.
Ah, here come the others, all prophets of doom
I'm sure one of 'em can help lift the gloom.
[Enter Boy, Sam, George]
Boy:
Cor, the wind's been howling, it's teeming with rain
I'm not going back out there again
Sam:
It's knee-deep in mud wherever yer goes
It seeps through your laceholes and squidges your toes
Moll:
You wouldn't send a horse out on such a night
Don't you agree George?
George:
          You're probably right
Boy:
Yesterday 'arry took Dobbin to the vets
Neither are back so place your bets
Moll:
Will Dobbin recover, or has life passed him by?
Is he destined for the stable in the sky?
George:
We're all getting older and feeling our age
But we must struggle on to earn a wage
Sam:
Money's short, our budgets are tight
Like Gordon Brown's
George:
          Not that tight!
Boy:
Old Sam's knackered, he's full of moans
Sam:
I might sit down to rest my bones
They ache so much that I must rest
I need a break, two weeks at best
Boy:
The Boss'll never let you go away
… unless it's for a Saga holiday!
Sam:
You cheeky…
[Moll intervenes]
Moll:
Steady you two… Boy, where's that grub
And George, you can give Sam's back a rub
George:
Get off, you don't know where he's been
Boy:
Knowing Sam it's somewhere obscene
Sam:
This 'ere sandwich is as tough as my welly
I bet this gristle will damage my belly
Must be pork, or praps it's deer
Boy:
No, I got it cheap
Sam:
          Oh I need a beer
Come to think of it, I feel a bit queer
[Enter 'arry]
'arry:
I took the 'orse, but it was too late
They put 'im down, he was in a state
[They look horrified]
No I jest, he's a clean bill of health
But he must learn to move himself
C'mon Dobbin…
[Dobbin rushes in and charges about]
Moll:
He's had a scare but must now work hard
If it's not to be the knacker's yard
'arry:
The mare that went with us from Shuart Lane
Had to be slaughtered, she was in pain
She put up a fight, I had to take 'er
Then I sold the carcass to a sandwich maker
Sam:
Boy… !
[Sam retches]
Whoever:
Now it's quiet, if nobody minds
I'll read out these 'ere special lines
[SPECIAL LINES FOR EACH HOUSE]
Moll:
Now Dobbin's fit, we'll work hell for leather
To clear the backlog caused by the weather
Sam:
It's all a result of global warming
Boy:
Heat keeps rising
George:
          Clouds keep forming
Boy:
Rain keeps falling
George:
          Mud's appalling
'arry:
More overtime would help ease the load
Boy:
Extra hours in that field down the road
You know, the one that's standing in water
George:
Right next door to the Boss's daughter
Given the chance, he'd stay there all night
Boy:
What do you mean?
George:
          You knows all right
He really has got the hots
Sam:
What's her name?
George:
          Harriet Potts
Sam:
Dobbin's quite keen on that mare down the Court
He gets excited just at the thought
[Dobbin looks excited]
If he gets excited, he overeats
And redistributes all that he eats
[Dobbin farts]
All:
Look out!
Moll:
If the Boss finds out there'll be hell to pay
You both keep your distance, that's what I say
'arry:
Let's get this horse hitched up for work
Come on, this is no time to shirk
Where's the plough?
Boy:
          Up there in the sky
'arry:
Do you want my fist in your eye?
Boy:
It's just to the left of Castor and Pollux
'arry:
Shuddup Boy, you do talk…
[Moll interrupts]
Moll:
There must be somewhere we can look
To get some help, praps a book
George:
What about this 'ere Internet?
Help's available there, I bet
Sam:
We need a website, that's what I say
George:
What, www.dobbin.co.uk?
Sam:
That's quite an address, let's give it a bash
But with Dobbin we'll need a backward slash
[Dobbin has a slash]
Boy:
All you need is a screen in your house
To move your cursor, some sort of mouse
Moll:
I can't stand mice
Boy:
Calm down Moll, take my advice
For communications, stick with your letters
Leave the technical stuff to your betters
[Moll raises her broom]
'arry:
It's too much for me, it's over my head
Boy:
That's because you're half brain dead
'arry:
You cheeky prat, he's too much lip
If he's not careful, he'll feel my whip
Boy:
Ooh, yes please!
Sam:
Let's get back to transport to cross this water
That covers the fields, not as it oughta
George:
What of that contraption Boy?
That you thought up… don't be coy
Moll:
Go and get it, we need assistance
We can't rely on Dobbin's persistence
Voice:
Boy, this is Big Brother, will you please leave the house
[Boy goes off]
Moll:
What's this 'ere? A Swede? That's fun
Sam:
Let's call it Sven Goran Erikkson
George:
At least he's doing well in his field
'arry:
That's more than can be said of this year's yield
[Boy comes back with some form of skis]
George:
What he's got on just ain't legal
He looks just like Eddie the Eagle
Sam:
It could set a trend for either sex
He's got more taste than Posh or Becks
Boy:
You may mock but these long shoes
Help me cross the fields I choose
Dobbin tows me with this piece of rope
Sam:
It'll never work George, will it?
George:
          Nope!
Moll:
Just a thought Boy, not seeming to be harsh,
How will Dobbin cross the marsh?
Dobbin (aside, sometimes):
He can walk on water!
Boy:
Aaahh, I've not worked that one out just yet,
But at least it stops my feet getting wet
'arry:
Come on then, tie the lead to Dobbin's yoke
Not too tight, he mustn't choke
Sam:
This is really some sick joke
George:
Come on Sam, give him a poke
[Dobbin runs and pulls boy, then stops; Boy mounts, both collapse; Dobbin runs off]
Moll:
He's down, I think he banged his head
Worse that that, I think he's dead
All day long so hard he's grafted
Now look what's happened
Sam:
He's been shafted!
George:
Naah, he's stunned, he's off the pace
Look at that expression on his face
Sam:
He's always like that, most of the day
I couldn't stick the bugger anyway
Moll:
Sam, how could you, have you got no heart?
Sam:
Ah, cover him up, the little fart
George:
A sheet would help if we have one spare
'arry:
This one's got a bloody great tear
[They cover him up]
Sam:
Let's leave him there to lie in state
I need a drink, I just can't wait
Moll:
A nice glass of ale would slip down a treat
It would take away the smell of his feet
'arry:
Praps we all should sing a lament
While he lies there like a bag of cement
[Song, to the tune of Bob the Builder]
Boy's a goner
Can we fix him?
Boy's a goner
Do we care?
No! We'd better get some work done then…
Moll:
Let's pick him up and cart him off
Alright Sam, no need to scoff
George:
We'll need some magic to lift this rotter
'arry:
My name's 'arry, but I ain't a Potter
[Re-enter a mobile Dobbin]
Moll:
Look it's Dobbin, he's mastered the skis
I think he's got 'em strapped to his knees
Sam:
Don't know who he's trying to impress
He must think he's the Warthog Express
George:
In any case, let's get out the way
Something must have got in his hay
[Enter Parry Hotter]
Parry Hotter:
Evening all! You need some magic?
What's bin 'appening 'ere? Looks tragic
What I'll do is wave my wand
To wake 'im up, 'cos you've been conned
Just tie Dobbin to the feet of the lad
Then pull him up…
George:
          You must be mad
Parry Hotter:
Just slip the rope around his heel
Then slap old Dobbin to make him squeal
I'll wave this once just where he fell
Then once again to break the spell
[Nothing happens]
I'll wave this twice just where he fell
Then once again to break the spell
[Nothing happens so 'arry grabs the wand]
'arry:
Give it here! I'll do this bit.
Off your arse you lazy git!
[Slap Dobbin who tugs Boy up; Boy is revived]
Boy:
Whoa, stop
All:
He's alive!
Sam:
And as for you, your spells don't work
Get back to school you little jerk
[Exit Parry, head down; aaaahhh]
Boy:
Well help me up off my backside
Careful now, I have just died
Moll:
We thought for a minute you were a gonna
Sam:
We were really worried and we didn't wanna
Run you down or anything like that
George:
There you are mate, here's your hat
Boy:
Well I think I might partake of a beer
Praps that would help me feel less queer
Sam: (aside)
It'll take more than one
George:
It can't be fun feeling so chronic
What he needs is a really good tonic
[Enter Harriet Potts & Parry Hotter; last few days only]
Boy:
Harriet!
Harriet Potts (to Sam):
Is it you that's upset my brother?
Be careful or I'll tell 'is mother
Just watch out you evil trog
Or I'll turn you into a bloody frog
[Throws banger on floor]
Oh look — it's worked already!
Parry Hotter:
That's my sister!
Harriet Potts:
Well then Boy, let's go make some Magick
Boy:
If you insist…
[Both go off, followed by Parry Hotter]
Sam:
It's tragic
'arry:
I think I might join Moll in a stout
Moll:
You get off or you'll get a clout
'arry:
But let's be serious and take a pause
Whilst we tell you about this year's cause
George:
A few weeks ago an old friend died
Tom West was the name we Hoodeners sighed
Sam:
For Tom was the last of the old Hoodening troupe
He performed 80 years ago with his group
Moll:
He was the final link with the Hoodeners past
That's now been severed, but the legacy lasts
'arry:
For Tom was a Prisoner of War which he hated
For five long years he was [constipated /] incarcerated
[Re-enter Boy, somewhat dishevelled]
Boy:
What kept him going through those difficult years
Were Red Cross parcels, which eased hunger fears
George:
These monthly arrivals were never forgot,
They always came through, no matter what
Moll:
So for this memory we ask for your 'ackers,
So we can become Red Cross backers
Sam:
Just chuck us your money in our old bag
Which will be handed round by that old hag
All:
For if ye the Hooden horse do feed,
Throughout the year ye shall not need!

Produced by (contact details). All rights reserved. .