Dodger

Now, the main thing about a job like this is timing.

It's got to be mid-afternoon, in the drowsy hours,

when the staff need a bit of shuteye.

Oh, and a scorcher of an afternoon,

when the public don't fancy dragging their juicy pits

around a stuffy museum.

So, you go in and you say...

Now, THIS is what I wanted to show you.

A unique polychrome ostrich egg painted by Antoine du Bel.

Isn't it wonderful?

And then YOU say... It was an Easter gift from Louis XV to his mistress,

wasn't it? Indeed it was. I assume it was mounted by Gaulthier?

Very impressive knowledge.

And then the decoys walk in, cause a shemozzle...

Come on, you twerps. It's art! Oh! DOG BARKS

You do what we rehearsed, and you cannot fail.

Quiet, Bullseye! Sh. Don't lick the paintings, boy.

Oh, do not look. Do not look!

The man in that painting has got his wally on display.

The woman in that one's got her bongos out.

Oh, th-th-that is grotesque. Avert your eyes, children.

Dreadfully sorry about this. I want to see the wally.

No, you can't see wallies till you're married.

What about the bongos? Er, er, er, excuse me.

The sign clearly says, "No dogs."

Who are you calling a dog? My Bullseye loves a bit of painting.

Woof! I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Go on!

That's out of order. We can't go! Out of order!

You're spoiling it for everybody else. Come on. Off you go.

ARGUING

Oi, don't touch me! We're going. Off you go. We're going!

Just... Bye! I'm so sorry about all...

Security!

We're leaving, we're leaving! You don't need to follow us down!

ALARM RINGS Why are you following us?

Got to get out of here quick.

Come on! Oh! Oh, I beg your pardon. Sorry.

I've got you now.

You are going to swing.

You're alive.

Police! Guards! Guards!

D-D-Dodger! Dodger, run! Run! Run!

No! No! Police! Dodger, run! Dodger! Dodger! Get off! Argh!

Get off me! No, no!

Read all about it!

Criminal delinquent Dodger arrested in bungled egg art theft.

Oh, that was a mouthful.

Come on.

In you go.

Sit...down.

CHUCKLING

FORCED CHUCKLING

I'm just enjoying the moment.

I...got Dodger...banged up.

From now on, I'll forever be known as "Perry Blathers...

"Chief of Police...

"..the man who finally caught Dodger."

Now, Sir Charles Rowan tried and failed.

I tried...and succeeded.

Now, Duff...

..keep an eye on these two.

Remember what happened last time. Mm.

See you later.

Don't try anything.

KEYS JANGLE IN LOCK

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Permission to put Dodger away once and for all, sir?

Oh, yeah, yeah. We don't need to bother with a trial.

We could always pretend we had one.

What do you say, Charles?

HORN HONKS Yes. He agrees.

Such a shame he can't use his voice at all after the accident.

He had such a rich baritone.

Now, he just has a honk. Oh.

And some slight movement in his right hand.

I thought it might aid his recovery,

coming back to his old stomping ground, but...

..all he does is stare.

You know, he hasn't taken his eyes off you

from the moment I wheeled him in.

I faced down hundreds of criminals in my time,

I can see when a man has got something to hide.

Are you pleased to see Mr Blathers again, Charles?

YOU are a disgrace to my police force.

Once for yes, twice for no, remember?

HORN HONKS TWICE

Oh.

Mr Blathers is the new acting Chief of Police,

you know, Charles? I caught Dodger.

Can you believe that?

Ain't so stupid after all, now, am I?

HORN HONKS ONCE

I can't believe he's still alive.

Well, we won't be soon unless we think of something - fast.

You got any ideas? Eh?

HE SIGHS Brilliant.

Well, what happened? We rehearsed this like a ballet!

Who got their tutu in a tangle?

It weren't us! Yeah, yeah.

We done everything. EVERYTHING you asked!

What's going to happen to them?

Nothing.

I'm giving myself up.

It's all my fault.

So you'd leave us, would you? How many times, Fagin?

There's two of them and three of us.

Oh, come off it. Don't be like that!

No, I WILL be like that. You've always treated Dodger different,

and for what? What makes HIM so special?

Minnie will look after ya. Oh! Oh, I will, will I?

If I wanted to have kids, I'd have nicked some.

I'm no good for your health.

I'm like a six-foot toadstool full of rotten spores.

Oh, ditch the fungus talk and do one.

You ain't getting any sympathy from us.

The noose is too good for me.

All the things I've done.

I'm going down the nick.

I'm going to do a swap.

A sacrifice.

Me for them.

I'm going.

DOOR OPENS Ah, you're right.

They've already got two scalps, don't need another.

I'm better for you here.

I'm going to bed.

What a prat. DOOR CLOSES

KNOCK ON DOOR Come in.

How can I help you? Maybe it is I who can help YOU.

Sir Denholm Havers! What brings you here?

Well, I happened to be at the National Gallery this afternoon

and witnessed the arrest.

SHOUTING Security!

What will become of the two young thieves?

They'll be sent to the gallows.

Shame.

Have you considered rehabilitation?

Ahem, er, no, no.

No, Dodger and his acolyte are a menace.

Maybe so, but, is it worth giving them one last chance?

Why not enrol them in an educational establishment

and see if you can turn a bad penny into a shiny sovereign?

Can a disgusting urchin boy become a gentleman?

It's an interesting concept. But which educational establishment

would accept groin rags like them?

Mine. Sir Denholm is the headmaster of St Albion's College,

the finest school in the Empire.

Every boy who attends goes on to make his mark in the world...

..myself included. You could try it with both boys

as a social experiment. Dodger won't change,

neither will the other one.

Charles, your thoughts?

HORN HONKS

Is that, "Yes, you agree with Mr Blathers,"

or, "Yes, you agree with Sir Denholm and myself?"

HORN HONKS

HORN HONKS AGAIN Yes, yes, was that

two honks for "no" followed by a "yes" or three separate "yeses"?

HORN HONKS TWICE

HORN HONKS REPEATEDLY

HONKING CONTINUES

Yes, Charles agrees with me, so that's decided.

Splendid. Well, they can begin straight away.

Yes, sir. HORN HONKS TWICE

Out!

It makes me bilious.

How can the worst form of human effluence be granted the opportunity

to set forth in the grounds of the finest school in the Empire?

To be taught by first-rate brains and beaten by first-rate canes.

Our founder would be spinning in his tomb.

What is this place? Don't know.

My dear Montagu,

these delinquents may teach us a thing or two about society.

We're living in changing times,

we must harness the power of the working class.

I've never seen prison uniforms as fancy as these ones before.

I ain't never seen a prison as fancy as this before.

Look, even the screw's wearing a funny hat.

Havers, these are not working class...they are criminal class.

Their dirty minds will contaminate the entire school.

Before you know it, every boy here

will be a pickpocket, a prigger, and a cut-throat.

Neanderthals had the same reaction

when they saw homo-sapiens making fire.

Wasn't long before they too burnt out.

Havers, are you calling me an ape? I wouldn't dream of it.

Good morning. My name is Horatio Quincy de Vere Kistel.

Welcome to St Albion's. St Albion's? Must be a new slammer.

Oh, this isn't a penitentiary. What? This is a school. School?

Oh, no. Our founder, Lord Julius Albion,

established the school in 1440 for the sons of the nobility.

He fought in the Battle of Agincourt with his golden bow and arrow

and killed over a thousand Frenchmen

with just three arrows in his quiver.

His bow's the symbol of St Albion's,

and his body is entombed in the crypt beneath the chapel.

This school produces the finest men in the world.

See him? He's going to be Prime Minister.

Oh. He's going to be Chancellor of the Exchequer.

What? He is going to be Captain of Industry.