Cluny Brown

Yes. No, no, no, my dear chap. Sink.

Sink. S-i-n-k. Sink.

No, no, no, not stink.

Yes, well, now that you mention it, it does.

Stink.

Look here, what I'm trying to tell you is it won't drain.

Yes, that's it, and I've got 50 people popping over for cocktails.

Have you ever tried to get hold of a plumber in London

on a Sunday afternoon?

I've called dozens of them,

and the blighters are either at the films or walking in the park.

Hang it all! If plumbing's going to make a go of it in this country,

the plumbers jolly well better get into the spirit of the thing.

Well, there's just the ghost of a chance.

One chap half promised to be over,

but that's more than an hour ago, so there you are.

But look here, I can't just call up 50 guests.

I can't call up such people as the honorable Betty cream

and tell her my sink's out of order.

Just a moment. Congratulate me, old man. Here's the plumber now.

So long.

Come in, come in. Excuse me.

Hello? Yes.

Yes, he just came this moment. Goodbye.

Never been so happy to see anybody in my life. Right this way.

Rotten of me to spoil your Sunday, but it's sink or swim, you know.

Wait till you see the mess.

"Relieve the drain, relieve the strain." Bit of a poet, eh?

Well, there it is. Frightful stench, isn't it?

Just too awful for words.

Yes, but it looks interesting.

Very. What?

Is there anything more arresting than a sink out of order?

I beg your pardon.

An everyday, ordinary, commonplace pantry sink.

And yet, an analogue of human frustration.

Believe me, I know a lot about sinks.

Yes, naturally, I'm sure you do, but we haven't much time.

You see, I'm giving a party.

- You're expecting your guests any minute? - Right.

- And you want your sink fixed? - Right.

- Then what you need is a plumber. - Righ...

- But I thought that you... - Oh, no, no.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding.

You see, I came here to see an old friend of mine, professor Leigh.

Professor Leigh? Well, he's in Scotland.

You see, I sublet the flat.

- Now I am in a fix. - Well, what about me? I'm in a fix too.

But what am I going to do? It's 4:30.

I wanted to see professor Leigh -

I'm expecting 50 guests, including such people as the honorable Betty cream,

and she doesn't go everywhere, you know?

You're the most selfish man I've ever seen.

What?

You don't even know me and already you're not interested in me.

Why don't you ask me why I want to see professor Leigh?

All you're thinking about is the honorable Betty cream.

Why don't you ask me about my landlady?

Is she humane or does she want the rent?

Do you know or do you care? No.

Have you even said, "a fig for Betty cream, my dear sir.

Is there anything I can do for you?"

Well, is there?

Oh, thank heaven.

I misjudged you. My name is Adam belinski.

Hilary ames.

Ah, I'm tired, my dear ames.

It's too bad Leigh isn't here. By the way, do you know him?

- Not very well, no. - Oh... magnificent fellow.

He would have said, "is there anything wrong, belinski?"

And of course, I would have said, "no, no, nothing."

But he would not have believed me.

He would have insisted on my taking a nap.

Insisted, I assure you.

Ah, he had the most charming way of forcing 20 pounds on one.

Made you feel you were doing him a favor. Remarkable fellow.

Obviously. Well, I'm not precisely in the habit of forcing things on people,

but if I can be of any service...

My dear ames, this is kind of you.

Not at all. Do have a nap.

Oh, excuse me, Mr. belinski. This must be the plumber.

- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.

- Well, shall we have a go at it? - Ibeg your pardon.

I'm uncle Arn's niece. Mr. porritt, that is.

I'm sorry. There must be some mistake.

Mistake? Aren't you...

Of course you're Mr. ames.

I could smell you a mile off. You're the gentleman who phoned.

I have a wild idea that this has something to do with plumbing.

You mean porritt the plumber.

Yes, of course, of course. Come in, won't you?

Well, where is he?

- Pardon? - He never gets through till sunset.

But when you talked about your troubles, you sounded so stopped up,

I thought I'd have a fling at it myself.

But look here, are you a plumber?

Oh, no. But I've been around pipes and sewers and taps and things

ever since I came to live with uncle Arn.

And of course, I've watched him work.

He's a good plumber, but if you ask me, much too conservative.

- Conservative? - Though he votes labor.

But when it comes to pipes, he takes the long road,

fiddles and faddles, turns a nut, gets a drop here and a drip there,

when one good bang might turn the trick in a jiffy.

Yes, and might smash the pipe to smithereens.

But on the other hand, it mightn't.

When you're up against time, you have to chance it.

- Why don't you let me have a whack at it? - Oh, no, you don't.

My dear ames, where is the gypsy in you?

Where's your sense of adventure?

Are you the type of man who puts on his pants before he answers the telephone?

What if the thing does go wrong?

Let's assume the whole place gets flooded, and there is no party.

You save your liquor. Is that bad?

- But if this girl succeeds - - Please, sir, do let me.

By jove, I'll do it. Yes. I'll do it. Come on.

"Relieve the drain, relieve the strain, eh?"

Well, there it is. My fate's in your hands.

My!

What a congestion.

It's more stopped up than you sounded.

I never thought it'd be as good as this.

I can't thank you enough, Mr. ames.

Oh, not at all. You know, I'm having a party and -

yes, yes, I know, but I'm not at all certain I can stay.

We'll see.

You see she's not dressed for plumbing, but what woman is?

Well, here we go.

Have you ever had tea at the ritz?

Tea at the ritz?

I have, last Saturday.

I was lying in bed sucking oranges,

to tone up the system, you know, when all at once I said to myself,

"cluny brown, you've got a pound note in your stocking.

Why don't you have tea at the ritz?"

So I did. That's the way things come over me.

Was it a good tea?

Oh, it wasn't the tea,

but to hear them say, "this way, miss. Please, miss. Crumpets, miss?"

And holding my chair for me. You'd never have thought I was out of place.

That's very interesting. You don't seem to be inhibited.

Try to be more specific. What made you think you were out of place?

Oh, I didn't think I was. It's uncle Arn.

He's always telling me, "cluny brown, you don't know your place.

Think of your place. Cluny brown, you ought to learn your place."

Look here, this is no time for light conversation.

Where does uncle Arn think your place is?

- He didn't say. - Because he doesn't know.

I say, it's ten to 5:00.

Nobody can tell you where your place is.

Where is my place? Where is anybody's place?

I'll tell you where it is. Wherever you're happy, that's your place.

And happiness is a matter of purely personal adjustment to your environment.

You're the sole judge.

In Hyde park, for instance, some people like to feed nuts to the squirrels.

But if it makes you happy to feed squirrels to the nuts,

who am I to say nuts to the squirrels?

- Do you mind saying that all over again? - In Hyde park -

look, I beg you -

Oh, what a wonderful day this has been for me.

My first sink and my first cocktail.

A Martini cocktail.

With an olive.

Thank you. You've been so understanding.

Have some more.

- Should she? - Definitely.

Oh, yes, thank you.

Mmm.

Ah, I feel lovely.

I can't quite describe it. I feel... "Chirrupy.”

Chirrupy? I don't ever recall feeling chirrupy.

I'm afraid you never will, my dear ames. There isn't a chirrup in you.

Isn't it funny? Now I feel entirely different.

I know what it is. I know.

Uh-huh. Ah, it's coming over me.

That persian cat feeling.

Meow.

Meow.

What's a persian cat feeling?

I'm sorry, but it's getting late.

It's never too late for a cat.

You're lying there in bed reading that wonderful travelogue in the daily mail

and wanting to go places and wondering if you ever will.

And all of a sudden, you're a cat,

and you start to climb, and you leap out of the window into the fog.

Then suddenly the fog lifts, and it isn't London, it's Baghdad.

Next week, I'll be in Cairo.

Oh, it's so wonderful to be a cat and read the daily mail.

Look, I implore you -

good heavens, there they are now. Please...

- Yes? - I'm the -

oh, I feel so wonderful.

So free.

Cluny brown, what are you doing here?

Uncle Arn.

What does this mean? What are you doing on that there couch?

I've been plumbing, uncle Arn. Just plumbing.

Cluny brown, has something happened I ought to know about?

I don't think so.

Lucky I found the address wrote down or I might never looked you in the face again.