The Semi-Professionals

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THAMESIDE TELEVISION

PRESENTS

THE EXPEDITERS
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Scene: A grotty bedsit; two young men - one, Cody (short dark hair) is sat on the bed, stripping and oiling a sten gun, the other Foyle (curly dark hair) is lounging on a sleeping bag on the floor reading "Chamber's Legal Primer vol 2". Both have handguns in shoulder holsters.

Foyle: Hey - when do I get to sleep on the bed?

Cody (smugly): You don't - we tossed for it and you lost.

Foyle: Yeah, well you had an unfair advantage

Cody: You mean my keen eye and dexterity?

Foyle: No, you're just a complete tosser

Cody points a finger at Foyle

Cody: Now, behave or I'll tell McTavish and he'll take your porno book off you.

Foyle just looks at Cody and goes back to his book

Cody: Soddit I'm bored - sure there's no smut in your book?

Foyle: Sure of it. You wait - I pack this in and I'm off to be a lawyer; maybe a Judge, end up in my court and you'll be in for a dose of porridge

Cody: Get stuffed - if we get done for that Securicor job, we'll be doing the time. Bang goes your legal career then mate

Foyle: I hate undercovers

Cody: Depends who you're under the covers with

Foyle: Tell me about it

Sharp rap on the door - both draw their handguns

Cody: If you're the landlord - we're out!

Door opens, in walks Mr McTavish - a greying Scotsman in a raincoat holding a carrier bag

McTavish: Guid Morning lads - you can put the guns away. Pshaw - is that smell you, Cody?

Cody : Nah, it's his cooking

Cody points to a hotplate in the corner - a pan steams menacingly

McTavish: What the crivens is it?

Foyle: Lamb tagine with apricots and chickpeas. Got the recipe from this Libyan bird, Leila, at the LSE

McTavish: Libyan heh? Is she cooperative?

Cody: Too right she is - he's knackered, a broken man, look at him. Oh no, he always looks like that

McTavish: Thats enough, Cody. Right, the lads and lasses at GCHQ picked up a phone call from the Headshed at Red Spike - they're doing the armed robberies to get funds to bail that mad trot Spart and then to get some more guns - AKs and the like

Foyle: Did they buy the fake Securicor blag?

McTavish: Och aye they did and all. They want to meet you pair.

Cody: Nice - we meet 'em, then we slot 'em?

McTavish: No. You meet them and let them recruit you. You tell us where they are hitting next, then the lads from Hereford slot them. Here's your in [he takes a pair of Skorpions from the carrier bag] they've been jarked so be careful with them. Now lose those shoulder holsters - you look like professionals.

Exit McTavish

Foyle looks at Cody.

Foyle: Undercover eh?

Cody: Tell me about it......

CUE ADVERTS......