One Fall Too Many

A sketch.

SCENE 1. INT. MILITARY OFFICE. DAY.

CAPTAIN SITS AT A DESK. TELEPHONE RINGS. 

 

CAPTAIN:

Hello? King’s Horses and Men, Captain Smythe speaking.

 

SPLIT SCREEN. HUMPTY IS A CRACKED EGG WITH A FACE DRAWN ON IT.

 

HUMPTY:

Ah. Ah. Ah.

 

CAPTAIN:

Hello?

 

HUMPTY:

Help me. Ah.

 

CAPTAIN:

Is that you again Mr. Dumpty?

 

HUMPTY:

Yes.

 

CAPTAIN:

And how, as if I could not guess, can I assist you today?

 

HUMPTY:

Wall. Fell. Ah.

 

CAPTAIN:

You do realise, Mr. Dumpty, this is the sixth time in as many months you’ve contacted us for assistance following involuntary wall-based descents.

 

HUMPTY:

I know. Ah.

 

CAPTAIN:

And need I tell you again that we are a Calvary regiment, not a medical facility.

 

HUMPTY:

Please. It hurts.

 

CAPTAIN:

Good grief Mr. Dumpty! What is it that you want us to do?

 

HUMPTY:

Help.

 

CAPTAIN:

I’m sorry but as I’ve told you on numerous occasions, we simply do not have the relevant training, time or resources to put you back together again.

 

HUMPTY:

Jesus.

 

CAPTAIN:

I mean, what is it that compels you to sit on that wall in the first place? As if you need reminding Mr. Dumpty, you’re an egg.

 

HUMPTY:

Please. Yolk. Everywhere. Ah.

 

 

 

CAPTAIN:

Ask yourself Mr. Dumpty, in future would you not be better off staying close to the ground?

 

HUMPTY:

There’s a crow. Ah.

 

CAPTAIN:

Or being hardboiled?

 

HUMPTY:

It’s picking at my brains.

 

CAPTAIN:

Goodbye Mr. Dumpty.

 

HUMPTY:

Save me.

 

END OF SPLIT SCREEN. PHONE IS PUT DOWN.

 

CAPTAIN:

A bloody good war would sort that type out.

 

END