Snookered ROY

'This is the story of Roy O'Brien.

'He lives in an ordinary house on an ordinary street.

'The only trouble is, he doesn't look very ordinary.

'All Roy really wants is to fit in,

'but it's very hard to stay out of trouble when you're a cartoon.'

ROYYYYYY!

ROYYYYYY!

ROYYYYYY!

CHOIR: ROY!

'It's Saturday, and Maura is hosting the Sandyford Ladies Book Club.'

-Becky!

-What?

-You're supposed to be helping!

-I am.

Don't mind the book, we'll get the DVD.

Can't tell you how excited I am.

And nervous. I mean, getting an invitation to join is a big deal.

Sandyford.

Myself and the ladies shall arrive promptly at 2pm this Saturday,

you will receive us warmly with light refreshments,

then you may take our coats -

which are to be hung up properly on sturdy, wooden hangers,

not tossed carelessly in a pile on somebody's bed, do you understand?

-(Yes, yes.)

-Good.

And, Moira, remember, you're not in Ballyfermot any more. This...

is Sandyford.

How long before we can go home?

Well, if your mother's book club thingy is a success, a few hours.

-And if it goes badly?

-Ha! About a week.

-What are we supposed to do in the meantime?

-You know what?

-I have an idea.

-What?

-No, trust me. You'll love it.

Right, before we break...

-let's run through the rules.

-Put the balls into the holes?

-Nah.

Well, yes, yeah, but there's more to it than that.

-Chillax, Da, I'll figure it out.

-Right, first things first.

I want you to hit this cue ball...

into that pack of reds... as hard as you can.

DRUM ROLL

You were right. This game is brilliant!

-Can I go upstairs and read?

-Stay, and help me greet my guests first.

DOORBELL RINGS

And remember to be polite and charming -

and to put the coats on the wooden hangers, not the wire ones.

SHE EXHALES QUICKLY

BOOK CLUB LADIES: Ooh!

-Gloria!

-BOTH: Mwah, mwah!

-Welcome! Nice to see you.

-BOTH: Mwah, mwah!

-Come inside. Oh, Amanda. Alywn!

-BOTH: Mwah, mwah!

-Lovely to see you. Nola!

-BOTH: Mwah, mwah!

Ooh, yes. I'm warning you.

Doesn't Moira have a charming little home, ladies?

It's just amazing what can be achieved on a

tight little budget nowadays.

What are you, an interior designer?

-POSH VOICE:

-Ladies, have you met my daughter Rebecca?

It's lovely to meet you, Rebecca.

-It's Becky.

-Oh, Rebecca, take the ladies' coats, please.

Make yourselves at home, I'm going to get some refreshments.

Thank you, Rebecca!

Charming.

-Right, here, try it again.

-Which colour?

-The blue. Go on.

-Great shot, son!

-Hey, you two, keep it...

Tubbs O'Brien?

I don't believe it, it is you. Talk about a blast from the past.

-Clive "The Tornado" Butler.

-How are you keeping these days, Tubbs?

-What brings you to, eh, MY snooker hall?

-Tubbs?

-I'll explain later.

Why don't you explain now?

We used to play each other in tournaments.

Tubbs was the top dog in his class, in his age group.

Until I came along. What was it again?

Oh, yeah - five whitewash victories in a row, to me.

Poor old Tubbs lost his bottle after that.

Had to give up the game altogether.

-Is that true, Da?

-It's that long ago, son, I don't really remember.

Well, I do, because I'm the one who put you into early retirement.

Now Roy's trying to play snooker too! How funny is that?

Not funny at all, Declan.

We're here to train, not to get distracted by these...tourists.

You should be ashamed of yourself, Tubbs.

This...is a cathedral of snooker. Silence is golden.

Yeah, sorry, we'll try and keep it down a little bit.

Yeah, you better.

Who does he think he is, giving out to us for having fun?

He is a four-time Irish amateur champion.

And you know what else he is, son? He's right.

Snooker's no laughing matter.

-Right, we're going to start playing properly from now on.

-With a cue?

Yes, with a cue. Come on, your break.

Ah-ha!

-It's going great. What do you think?

-Whatever you say...

POSH VOICE: "..Moira".

Get back in there, Becky. Ah!

BOOK CLUB LADIES COO

ROY'S DAD WHISTLES

-O'Brien.

-Shh! He's on a break of 35.

Well played, son.

-Yes, very impressive, O'Brien, very impressive.

-Beginner's luck.

-That was a brilliant shot.

-More like a fluke.

No, Roy has a knack for the game.

Yeah, only cos he's a cartoon.

Don't worry, kid, if you take after your old man you'll soon

learn how to choke under pressure.

HE MAKES CHOKING NOISE

No, he won't. Because he's going to get better from now on.

-Doubt it.

-Oh, he will. And I'm telling you, won't be long

until he's able to wipe the floor with your nephew.

-Oh, yeah?

-Oh, yeah.

-Oh, yeah?

-Oh, yeah.

-Oh, yeah?!

-Yeah.

Gentlemen, show a bit of decorum.

We're in a cathedral of snooker.

Are you challenging my boy to a match, Tubbs?

-Yes, I am.

-Fine.

We meet here next Saturday afternoon,

first to five frames is the winner.

-Derek, can you referee?

-I'd be honoured.

DECLAN GIGGLES GLEEFULLY

Oh, man, this is going to be sweet. I get to whitewash O'Brien.

Snooker. My one last island of refuge - invaded by O'Brien.

I ask you...is nothing sacred?

Well, of course, I said to her, "Marjorie, once a cheater,

"always a cheater." But would she listen to me? No.

Marjorie never listens, don't bother.

-What sort of book club is this?

-Excuse me?

You're supposed to be discussing Wuthering Heights,

all you've done so far is gossip.

-BOOK CLUB LADIES: Oooh!

-Too busy what?!

Mint tea, anyone? Rebecca, come and help me in the kitchen.

A lively young lady!

THEY LAUGH

I can't beat Deco, Da. He's miles better than me.

-Don't worry, son, we've got a week to train.

-But...

Listen to me, all right?

I say you're a natural, so if you give it your best shot

and work hard...

I'll be proud of you. Win, lose or draw.

But I thought it was first to five frames. How can there be a draw?

Well, win or lose, I'll be proud of you. Deal?

Good lad.

-Really lovely.

-Well, Moira, all in all, not a bad effort.

Ooh, thank you, Harriet.

I can't say the same for your choice of refreshments,

but apart from that?

BOOK CLUB LADIES: Mmm, mmm!

The-the-the food wasn't nice, Harriet, no?

-What's the word I'm looking for, ladies?

-LADIES: Ooh...

Ah! Bland.

But you know, you did your best, and that's all that matters.

But I can do a lot better, Harriet, if you just give me another chance.

Cecilia, would you mind if Moira hosted again next Saturday?

-Not at all, Harriet.

-Splendid!

So we'll see you here next week again then, so.

And maybe without interruptions from non-book club members.

-Does she mean me?

-Uh, Rebecca, don't you have homework to do?

-Anyway...

-Harriet, thanks for the opportunity, I won't let you down.

-You're so welcome. Kisses!

-BOTH: Mwah, mwah!

Bye!

Alwyn.

Winona, bye. Bye-bye. Mwah.

I know exactly what you're going to say,

-Becky, you can save your breath.

-Don't you mean...

POSH VOICE: "..Rebecca"?

Becky! Come back here!

That Tornado man was really horrible to me da.

I guess it's why it's so important that I beat Deco.

I just hope I don't let him down.

I wonder how much it'll cost to hire caterers.

Why stop there?

Maybe you can get Gary Barlow to come round and serenade them

while they eat(!)

-You know what I was just thinking there?

-Mm-hmm.

Maybe Roy should take some time off school next week,

just to help him prepare for his match.

-Sure, love.

-Really? Great, I'll call Miss Jervis in the morning.

-OK.

-You don't have a problem with any of this?

-Any of what, Becky?

Your father and Roy are spending quality time together.

You wouldn't let me do that in a million years!

DOOR SLAMS

Chicken with the dressing, garlic and chilli...

-Morning!

-Ahhhh!

What you mean, morning?

-What time is it? What's going on?

-This, son, is your mortal enemy.

Now, I want you to spend 30 minutes every day staring into his eyes,

visualising his defeat and destruction.

-Destruction?

-Yes, I'll explain everything when you're out running.

-Running where?!

-Five miles, son, every morning.

Part one of our new training regime.

-What do you think you're doing?

-I'm not going.

-Right, get out of bed, stop messing.

-No.

-Right, come on.

-Dad, no. Dad, get out!

SLAPSTICK SOUND EFFECTS

I'm still not going.

-What does running have to do with playing snooker?

-Listen...

Roy...it's not like the old days.

Snooker is a physical sport just as much as a mental sport.

That's why I need to prepare you for victory.

So five-mile runs are absolutely necessary.

I wouldn't have you doing them if I didn't think so.

What about your promise?

-You said you'd be proud of me win or lose.

-Well, I will. When you win.

-Da!

-But you can win, son!

You have the talent, you just need the focus

and the determination. That's what I'm here to teach you.

-OK.

-Good lad. Now...

-..let's go. Here.

-What's this for? I thought we were...

Ba-ba-ba-ba.

-Charlene goes everywhere with you now, son.

-Charlene?

Charlene is more than just your snooker cue. She's your lightsaber.

She's your samurai sword.

How am I supposed to run while I'm holding a snooker cue?

You'll get used to it. Now, come on.

Victory is waiting for us. Come on!

Higher, legs up, that's it.

Up, up, up, up! Good lad.

Higher, son, higher.

ROCKY-STYLE MUSIC

FLIES BUZZ

FLIES BUZZ

SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC

BELL RINGS

Just so you know, this Saturday I'm going to teach Roy O'Brien a lesson

in how to play snooker and you're all invited to witness the carnage.

Wow, Declan, snooker. A game based on geometric principles.

Actually, that gives me a great idea for a lesson.

Class, who would like to learn about the wonders of geometrics, hey?

PUPILS COMPLAIN

You gave Roy O'Brien time off school to practise snooker?

He's discovered a new skill.

It's our responsibility as educators to encourage him in any way we can.

At the expense of the established curriculum.

There are many different paths in life. Academia is just one of them.

Yes, and to be honest, Roy O'Brien is hardly the sharpest

tool in the box when it comes to book learning!

Roy is a remarkable young man!

I truly believe he can accomplish anything he puts his mind to.

True, if he turns out to be a snooker-playing prodigy,

he might win a stack of trophies to brighten up our rather

lacklustre awards cabinet.

No student at this school will ever come under pressure to win.

Taking part is all that counts.

Derek.

I can still see you.

-You're very quiet there, Roy.

-Erm, yeah. Just enjoying my book.

Are you looking forward to claiming glory

-on the field of battle tomorrow?

-ROY GULPS

Don't you mean "play a silly game of snooker"?

-Actually, no. I prefer the way I said it.

-Yeah. Absolutely.

I'm going to win this for you, Da,

-and then we can both retire as champions.

-Retire?

Are you kidding me? No, no, no, son, no.

-This isn't the end of snooker, this is the beginning.

-What do you mean?

Well, I mean, look at the progress you've made in the last week.

At this rate, you'll be world champion by the time you're 16.

-World champion?

-Then we'll have you out on the pro circuit.

You'll have your own line of merchandising, maybe a video.

And then in 25 or 30 years,

you can retire as the greatest player

to ever pick up a snooker cue.

What if he doesn't want to play snooker for the next 30 years?

Don't be ridiculous. The boy was born to play the game.

You have to win, Roy, at all costs.

On your toes.

-No!

-I can't believe you let me down, son.

Hit him off the table, Declan.

Roy! Wake up!

-Are you OK?

-I was a snooker ball!

-I can see that. Look.

I'm a prisoner, Becky. I've been sentenced to 30 years' hard snooker.

-Go back to bed. I've a way out of this.

-How?

I'll explain in the morning.

-What?

-I said go back to bed, Roy.

-Listen, you're going to throw the match today.

-I can't do that.

Of course you can. Just don't pot any balls.

But I'm a snooker phenomenon, even when I'm not trying to pot them.

Anyway, I'll make a show of Da in front of the Tornado

if I lose on purpose, and I can't do that to him.

You've got three choices. One, you throw the match.

Two, you tell Da you're quitting. Or three...

I spend the next 30 years wearing a stupid dickie bow.

All right. I'll do it.

Come on.

-CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

-Come on, Roy!

Go on, Roy! You can do it!

Gentlemen, shake hands, please.

-You're going down.

-Yeah, whatever.

You're leaving this place the same way you came in.

-What? Through the front door?

-No, as a loser!

First frame, Roy to break.

CROWD SHOUTS ENCOURAGEMENT

-Yeah! Get in there, son!

-THEY CLAP

Harriet! Come in. Mwah, mwah! Let me take your coat.

-Thanks, Moira!

-THEY GIGGLE

Well, may I say, this is a wonderful spread.

Wouldn't you agree, ladies?

In fact, I don't think Cecilia would have come close to this.

She's been off her game for quite some time.

-Isn't that true, Cecilia?

-SHE GIGGLES

-Who would like some tea? Mint? Camomile?

-Oh, yes.

-Don't get too comfortable. You're all leaving in a minute.

-Rebecca?

What are you doing here?

Who can tell me the name of Heathcliff's housekeeper?

-THEY HESITATE

-Mrs... A woman. What's her name?

Where did Mr Earnshaw find Heathcliff as a boy?

-THEY HESITATE

-Erm... Heathcliff as a boy?

-Was it a shed? Erm...

-Who wrote Wuthering Heights?

Oh! Kate Bush? Was it? Could be.

-Come on, we have to go.

-What are you talking about?

-Roy needs your help.

Do you usually let your daughter speak to you

-so disrespectfully, Moira?

-Maura! Her name's Maura!

-Not Moira, you Sandyford snob!

-How dare you!

Rebecca! Apologise!

Do you really care more about these freeloaders than your own son?

Why wouldn't she? After all, we're a better class of people!

Don't you dare speak to my daughter like that!

I knew it was a mistake inviting the likes of you into my circle!

Becky's right.

This isn't a book club, it's a dictatorship run by a bully.

Do you really want to make an enemy of me?

-Because I'll destroy you, Moira.

-Maura! My name is Maura.

In Ballyfermot, nobody would put up with this kind of abuse

from the likes of her.

We'd start our own book club, one where you actually read the book.

I'd like to see you try!

I can promise you all right now, right here,

that no-one will be criticised for the poor quality of the fancy food

or the colour of their skirt and their choice of wallpaper.

-I'm with Maura!

-Cecelia!

-Me too!

-Amanda!

No, Harriet. We're not going to take it any more!

Sorry, Maura. What were you saying?

Why don't we all meet here next Saturday?

Harriet, you're not invited! THEY SQUEAL

-You can't do that to me!

-If you'll excuse me, my son needs my help.

THEY CHEER AND APPLAUD

THEY CHANT: Let's go, Roy, let's go!

Quiet, everyone! This is a snooker match, not a TV song competition.

Right, this is it, son. Moment of truth.

-Me hands feel all shaky.

-Yeah, well, don't fight that feeling, son.

-That's just the adrenaline flowing.

-Roy! Are we too late?

-Is the match over?

-No. This is the final frame. Winner takes it all.

Why aren't you at your book club?

-I quit.

-Really?

Yeah, I wasn't having fun.

And I would have realised it a lot sooner

if I'd listened to your sister.

Can we talk about this later, ladies? We need to focus here, OK?

Roy, is there something you'd like to say to your father?

-HE SIGHS

-I hate snooker.

-What? Why?

-It's no fun.

-He doesn't want to play any more, Bill.

-But what about the match?

-It's the final frame!

-Look at him. He's miserable.

And he's having nightmares.

Do you really want him doing something that makes him unhappy?

No, no. No, of course not.

I'm really sorry, Dad.

Don't you apologise, son. It's all my fault.

You sit down, there.

I'll sort everything out, then we'll head home.

-Forfeit? What do you mean, forfeit?

-It means it's over. You won.

-Congratulations.

-Tubbs O'Brien. Loser and a coward.

Let's go.

Can you believe this? They're giving up!

Don't even have the guts to take their beating like men.

-All right then, let's finish the game.

-Roy?

-I'll be back in a minute.

-Big mistake, O'Brien! You're going to regret this.

-Yeah, right!

-Can I break?

-In your own time, O'Brien.

THEY CLAP

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Slow down, Roy. You're going to give me a heart attack!

He's a snooker machine.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

HE SOBS

Now we can go home.

Clive!

-Maura.

-Wait a minute, you two know each other?

-When we were young, Clive asked me out.

-And you said no?

I had my eye on someone else.

Ah, well, that's how it goes, Tornado.

You got snooker, I got the girl.

See you! THEY CLAP

Maybe if I hadn't made you work so hard and hate the game,

you could have been world champion.

-CUE SNAPS

-Ow, you...

Don't worry, Da.

I bet there's hundreds of other sports I'm great at.

Harriet, nice to see you again. HARRIET COUGHS

-Kisses!

-Becky! BECKY MAKES SMOOCHY NOISES