Hijacked Plane (To Luton)
Caption on screen: 'TWO
YEARS LATER' Interior cockpit of airliner. (Mr Chigger and a second pilot
sitting at controls.)
Mr Chigger: Gosh, I am glad
I'm a fully qualified arline pilot.
(Cut to BALPA spokesman
sitting at a desk. He is in Captain's uniform and has a name plate in front of
him on the desk saying 'BALPA Spokesman)
BALPA Man: The British
Airline Pilots Association would like to point out that it takes a chap six
years to become a fully qualified airline pilot, and not two.
(Caption on screen: 'FOUR
YEARS LATER THAN THE LAST CAPTION' Interior cockpit. For three seconds. Then
cut back to BALPA spokesman.)
BALPA Man: Thank you. I
didn't want to seem a bit of an old fusspot just now you know, but it's just as
easy to get these things right as they are easily found in the BALPA handbook.
Oh, one other thing, in the Sherlock Holmes last week Tommy Cooper told a joke
about a charter flight, omitting to point out that one must be a member of any
organization that charters a plane for at least six months beforehand, before
being able to take advantage of it. Did rather spoil the joke for me, I'm
afraid. (phone ring) Yes, ah yes - yes. (puts phone down) My wife just reminded
me that on a recent 'High Chapparal' Kathy Kirby was singing glibly about 'Fly
me to the Stars' when of course there are no scheduled flights of this kind, or
even chartered, available to the general public at the present moment, although
of course, when they are BALPA will be in the vanguard. Or the Trident. Little
joke for the chaps up at BALPA House. And one other small point. Why is it that
these new lurex dancing tights go baggy at the knees after only a couple of
evenings fun? Bring back the old canvas ones I say. It is incredible, isn't it,
that in these days when man can walk on the moon and work out the most
complicated hire purchase agreements, I still get these terrible headaches.
Well . .. I seem to have wandered a bit, but still, no harm done. Jolly good
luck.
(Back in the cockpit of the
airliner. The two pilots sit there. Atmospheric noise of a big airliner in
flight. Suddenly there is a banging on the door at the back of the cockpit.)
Zanie: (off-screen) Are you
going to be in there all day? (the two pilots exchange a puzzled look, then shrug
and go back to flying; suddenly another series of bangs on door) Other people
want to go you know! (they exchange another look; pause; a heavier bang on the
door) The door's jammed, if you ask me. (a crash as he attempts to force it;
another crash and the door flies open; Mr Zanie enters) Ah. (suddenly realizing
where he is) Oh my God. Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought this was the bally
toilet.
Second Pilot: This is the
control cabin.
Zanie: Oh I know that. I'm a
flying man, you know... oh yes... Bally stupid mistake...
(A pause. Zanie remains
sanding at the back of cockpit. The pilots go on as if he is not there.)
Second Pilot: Cloud's heavy
... What's the reading?
Mr Chigger: 4.8... Steady.
Zanie: If they had all those
dials in the toilet... there wouldn't be room for anything else, would there.
(another nervous laugh; not the slightest reaction from the pilots)
Mr Chigger: (into intercorn)
Hello, Geneva this is Roger Five-O ... What is your cloud reading? Hello,
Geneva...
Zanie: I wouldn't fancy
flying one of those sitting on the toilet... I mean it'd take the glamour out
of being a pilot, wouldn't it, ha ha, flying around the world sitting on a
toilet.
Radio Voice: Geneva here.
4.9 ... Heavy... Over.
Mr Chigger: Serious?
Second Pilot: No, not if it
keeps at that level, no.
Zanie: Mind you, if you did
fly it from the toilet it would leave a lot more space up here, wouldn't it.
(finally he realizes his attempt at small talk is not working) Well, I'd better
get back to the cabin, then. Sorry about the silly intrusion. Bally stupid. (he
pushes lever down on the door which opens directly out of the plane) Door's
jammed. (he gives it a shoulder charge and flies straight out of the plane)
Aaaaaaaaaarrrggghhhhhh!
(Plane noise overhead
Continue scream. Outside of a gent's lavatory, there is a big pile of straw.
Pause, then Zanie drops onto the straw. He looks up at gent's sign.)
Zanie: Bally piece of
luck...
(He brushes himself down and
goes into gents. Cut back to cockpit. A hostess enters from the passenger
cabin.)
Second Pilot: Oh hello.
Everything all right at the back?
Hostess: Yes, they're as
quiet as dormice.
Second Pilot: Dormice?
(Door opens and a man in a
neat suit enters. From beneath his jacket he produces a revolver with silencer
attachment. He points it at the pilots.)
Gunman: All right, don't
anybody move ... except to control the aeroplane ... you can move a little to
do that.
Hostess: Can I move?
Gunman: Yes, yes, yes. You
can move a little bit. Yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to be so dogmatic when I came
in. Obviously you can all move a little within reason. There are certain
involuntary muscular movements which no amount of self-control can prevent. And
obviously any assertion of authority on my part, I've got to take that into
account.
(The ensuing conversation is
perfectly calm and friendly.)
Second Pilot: Right. I mean
one couldn't for example, stop one's insides from moving.
Gunman: No, no. Good point,
good point.
Second Pilot: And the very
fact that the plane is continuously vibrating means that we're all moving to a
certain extent.
Gunman: And we're all moving
our lips, aren't we?
Pilots: Yes, yes.
Second Pilot: Absolutely.
Gunman: No, the gist of my
meaning was that sudden... er...
Hostess: Exaggerated
movements ...
Gunman: Exaggerated violent
movements... are... are out.
Second Pilot: Well, that's
the great thing about these modern airliners. I mean, I can keep this plane flying
with only the smallest movement and Pancho here doesn't have to move at all.
Gunman: Oh, that's
marvellous.
Hostess: (joining in the
general spirit of bonhomie) And I don't really need to move either ... unless I
get an itch or something...
(They all laugh.)
Gunman: Well that's
wonderful ... 60% success, eh? (they laugh again) Anyway, bearing all that in
mind, will you fly this plane to Luton, please?
Second Pilot: Well, this is
a scheduled flight to Cuba.
Gunman: I know, I know,
that's rather why I came in here with that point about nobody moving.
First Pilot: Within reason.
Gunman: Within reason - yes.
I... er ... er... you know, I want you to fly this plane to Luton ... please.
Second Pilot: Right, well
I'd better turn the plane round then. Stand by emergency systems.
Gunman: Look I don't want to
cause any trouble.,
Second Pilot: No, no, we'll
manage, we'll manage.
Gunman: I mean, near Luton
will do, you know. Harpenden, do you go near Harpenden?
First Pilot: It's on the flight
path.
Gunman: Okay, well, drop me
off there. I'll get a bus to Luton. It's only twenty-five minutes.
Hostess: You can be in Luton
by lunchtime.
Gunman: Oh, well that's
smashing.
First Pilot: Hang on!
There's no airport at Harpenden.
Gunman: Oh well, look,
forget it. Forget it. I'll come to Cuba, and get a flight back to Luton from
there.
Second Pilot: Well, we could
lend you a parachute.
Gunman: No, no, no, no, no.
I wouldn't dream of it... wouldn't dream of it... dirtying a nice, clean
parachute.
First Pilot: I know - I
know. There's a bale of hay outside Basingstoke. We could throw you out.
Gunman: Well, if it's all
right.
All: Sure, yeah.
Gunman: Not any trouble?
Pilots: None at all.
Gunman: That's marvellous.
Thank you very much. Sorry to come barging in.
Hostess: Bye-bye.
Gunman: Thank you. Bye.
Pilots: Bye.
(They open the door and
throw him out.)
Gunman: (as he falls) Thank
you!
(Cut to haystack in a field
(not the same bale of hay that was landed on before). Aeroplane noise overhead.
The gunman suddenly falls into the haystack. He gets up, brushes himself down,
hops over a fence, and reaches a road He puts his hand out and a bus stops. It
has 'Straight to Luton' written on it. He gets in. Conductor is just about to
take his fare, when an evil-looking man with a gun jumps up and points gun at
conductor.)
Hijacker: Take this bus to
Cuba.
(Bus moving away from
camera. The destination board changes to 'Straight to Cuba'. The bus does a
speedy u-turn, and goes out of frame)