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breakinglight11Another piece of the Cabin Pressure fan fiction! I'm thinking of calling it "San Tropez," as the convention of the series is to name the episodes after a significant destination mentioned therein. For those of you who are familiar with the continuity, it takes place after Veduz but before Yverdon-les-Bains. Maybe just after Wokingham. I'd like to finish it before the final episode comes out.
This piece comes later in the story than both "#5 Meet Trudy and Cliff" and "#8 The Bobsled."
Not Speaking to You
by Phoebe Roberts
ARTHUR SHAPPEY, steward at MJN Air
CLIFFORD SPEEDWELL III, the client
TRUDY CADWALLADER, the client's fiancee
~~~
(In the cabin.)
ARTHUR: Good day to yourself, madam, is there any comfortability I can performify for yourself in my fulfillification of my officiality as steward?
TRUDY: What?
ARTHUR: Can I get you anything?
TRUDY: How about a man that would let me drag him around by the collar and sit up and speak if I asked?
ARTHUR: Uh... I think Skip's a little busy flying the plane.
CLIFF: Don't you have a purse dog to smother?
TRUDY: Steward, could you go inform my fellow passenger that I am still not speaking to him?
ARTHUR: Righto! Mr. Speedwell, Miss Cadwallader says to tell you--
CLIFF: I'm not deaf, kid. God doesn't answer that particular prayer around here!
ARTHUR: In that case, hello! I am your flight attendant! Please tell me in what manner I can attend to your flight!
CLIFF: You want to help me out? Why don't you tell the princess over there that if she isn't going to speak to me, could she try shutting up for a bleeding minute?
ARTHUR: Uh... Miss Cadwallader, Mr. Speedwell requests that, if you're going to be quiet, you be certain you have nothing to say.
TRUDY: Then tell Mr. Speedwell that since I'm not talking to him, I'll say whatever I bloody well please!
ARTHUR: All right... Mr. Speedwell, Miss Cadwallader would have you understand that she is addressing persons other than yourself.
CLIFF: Then you tell her that if she addresses them any louder, she's going to bust that gut she just had me pay so much for!
ARTHUR: Uh-- Miss Cadwallader--!
TRUDY: Tell him it didn't cost a fraction so much as those sodding tooth caps of his!
ARTHUR: Oh, gosh. Mr. Speedwell--!
CLIFF: Tell her highness that if she stopped scowling once in a while she might not need to shoot all that Botox into her face!
ARTHUR: Uh--
TRUDY: Tell his nibs to take one look at his father and see if a man with that much turkey neck in his future ought to be making jabs!
ARTHUR: Uh--
CLIFF: Tell her that I'd rather look like a ruddy sharpei than spend the rest of my life anchored to a keening shrew of a woman who'll gnaw every last scrap of flesh from my bones!
TRUDY: We'll, I'd rather have my brain pulled out of my head through my nostrils with corkscrews and be fed piece by piece to ravenous carrion birds than be yoked to drunken philandering Neanderthal of a man who will drag me into the rotted, pickled, mouldering depths of his family's cave for the rest of eternity! Can you tell him that!?
(Pause.)
ARTHUR: No, madam, I really can't!
This piece comes later in the story than both "#5 Meet Trudy and Cliff" and "#8 The Bobsled."
Not Speaking to You
by Phoebe Roberts
ARTHUR SHAPPEY, steward at MJN Air
CLIFFORD SPEEDWELL III, the client
TRUDY CADWALLADER, the client's fiancee
~~~
(In the cabin.)
ARTHUR: Good day to yourself, madam, is there any comfortability I can performify for yourself in my fulfillification of my officiality as steward?
TRUDY: What?
ARTHUR: Can I get you anything?
TRUDY: How about a man that would let me drag him around by the collar and sit up and speak if I asked?
ARTHUR: Uh... I think Skip's a little busy flying the plane.
CLIFF: Don't you have a purse dog to smother?
TRUDY: Steward, could you go inform my fellow passenger that I am still not speaking to him?
ARTHUR: Righto! Mr. Speedwell, Miss Cadwallader says to tell you--
CLIFF: I'm not deaf, kid. God doesn't answer that particular prayer around here!
ARTHUR: In that case, hello! I am your flight attendant! Please tell me in what manner I can attend to your flight!
CLIFF: You want to help me out? Why don't you tell the princess over there that if she isn't going to speak to me, could she try shutting up for a bleeding minute?
ARTHUR: Uh... Miss Cadwallader, Mr. Speedwell requests that, if you're going to be quiet, you be certain you have nothing to say.
TRUDY: Then tell Mr. Speedwell that since I'm not talking to him, I'll say whatever I bloody well please!
ARTHUR: All right... Mr. Speedwell, Miss Cadwallader would have you understand that she is addressing persons other than yourself.
CLIFF: Then you tell her that if she addresses them any louder, she's going to bust that gut she just had me pay so much for!
ARTHUR: Uh-- Miss Cadwallader--!
TRUDY: Tell him it didn't cost a fraction so much as those sodding tooth caps of his!
ARTHUR: Oh, gosh. Mr. Speedwell--!
CLIFF: Tell her highness that if she stopped scowling once in a while she might not need to shoot all that Botox into her face!
ARTHUR: Uh--
TRUDY: Tell his nibs to take one look at his father and see if a man with that much turkey neck in his future ought to be making jabs!
ARTHUR: Uh--
CLIFF: Tell her that I'd rather look like a ruddy sharpei than spend the rest of my life anchored to a keening shrew of a woman who'll gnaw every last scrap of flesh from my bones!
TRUDY: We'll, I'd rather have my brain pulled out of my head through my nostrils with corkscrews and be fed piece by piece to ravenous carrion birds than be yoked to drunken philandering Neanderthal of a man who will drag me into the rotted, pickled, mouldering depths of his family's cave for the rest of eternity! Can you tell him that!?
(Pause.)
ARTHUR: No, madam, I really can't!
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