[The scene opens in a very green field. It isn't quite clear whereabouts in the world we are, but it's a sunny Wednesday, the sky is blue and the clouds are no where to be seen. Amongst the long grass rabbits play freely safe in the knowledge that they cannot be disturbed by anyone else, that's where they are wrong. Why? Because a disgruntled Larry is heading their way. He's wearing his usual ensemble; green hat, green jacket, green trousers, pretty much dressed in green. Unfortunately this made Larry almost invisible to the sweet rabbits, as his head only just popped out over the grass. But Larry saved them the trouble of having to run away. He stops at a large oak tree. There is no grass here, the ground is just dirt. Larry throws down his bag and sits down.]

Larry: Fecking hell. They said it was a bit of a walk, but for feck's sake. I've been walking round in circles for the past hour, I swear I've seen this tree before.

[Larry reachs into his brown leather bag, and after rummaging around he pulls out the ever trustworthy map. He tries to unfold it, but struggles and a tearing sound can be heard. Eventually, he manages to get it open, but a large rip is visible in the side.]

Larry: How do the they expect me to get there with a dodgy map?!

[He turns the map around, trying to interpret where on the map he is. He turns it around again. He even turns his head around as he gets completely muddled up.]

Larry: Grrr...it might help if they actually gave me a map of the place I was going, not some big map of nowhere. You know, I used to travel all over Ireland without a map of any sorts. The only map I had was me heart. But this place definitely isn't Ireland. This is a place of dreams, that never come true. This a land of fantasy, I may as well just follow the fecking Yellow Brick Road for all they care,

[Larry's face turns the same colour as his fiery red hair, and it appears although steam is coming from his ears, stuff of fantasy in itself. He screws up the map and throws it over his left shoulder, hitting a nearby bird and sending it off it's branch, flying in Larry's direction. At full speed it narrowly misses his head, but it does knock off his hat, revealing a bald patch.]

Larry: ARRGGH! My poor head will fry in this heat. Stupid birds, always getting in your way. The flying rats, that's what they should be called.

[Larry is clearly not enjoying his time at the moment. He picks up his hat.]

Larry: Now they've gone and made it all dirty!

[He tries to brush of the dirt with the palm of his hand. He does the best he can without trying to stain it. Satisyfied with the job he's done, he puts the hat back on his head.]

Larry: Can anything else go wrong? I think I'll tuck into some of these sandwiches. I do fancy something to eat, I've been peckish for a while now.

[Larry delves back into his bag and pulls out some sandwiches, wrapped in cling film. He takes the cling film off and throws it on the ground. He takes on sandwiche and puts the others on his bag. He puts it into his mouth, but he spits it out straight away.]

Larry: EERR! What's in this sandwiche?

[The lifts up the top slice of bread to reveal a black paste.]

Larry: Marmite? Who made these sandwiches anyway?

[Larry thinks back to where he got the sandwiches from.]

Larry: Oh, that's right. From the side of the road. What where they thinking leaving some duff sandwiches there for anyone to take and eat, how rude. Now I have this disgusting taste in my throat and I'm sweating like a pig. I could murder a Guinness. No, I can't, I have to save them. But they're so tasty, just one wouldn't hurt. It would, just get up and carry on walking. But I'm so tired, I need some rest. Oh...

[After a long battle with his conscience, Larry decides to have a rest, and just one can of the creamy stuff. He pulls out a can from his bag and cracks it open.]

Larry: Ah, the good taste of home.

[He tips his head back and opens his mouth. He pours the Guinness down his throat. Just a few swigs would have washed away the flavour of the Marmite, but Larry insists on finishing the can off as otherwise it would be a waste. He decides on a second because he still doesn't know where to go. For a reason known only to him he drunk a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. And a sixth....and so it went on until Larry was out of his skull. He quickly falls asleep and he curls up underneath the tree.]

The next day...