...Is This Just Fantasy? Uncle

-Eeny, meeny, miny...

-DOORBELL RINGS

..moe.

Mel. Odie. Melodie.

Hi, Andy.

This programme contains some strong language.

-Melodie's in my flat.

-What the hell are you doing up here?

I don't know what to say to her.

-Apologise to her for your wrongs.

-Yeah, but...

-that's not cool.

-Whatever you decide,

can you do it in your own time? I've got to catch up with my homework.

Homework? It's summer!

I'm taking a fantasy writing class.

-Nerd.

-I'm not taking it for pleasure. I'm taking it

cos you tell me that everything I write is very literal.

-Nerd.

-At least I'd know what to say to Melodie.

Melodie!

DOOR BANGS

I ran out of fresh towels.

Would you like a drink?

-No, thanks.

-It's just as well.

I've given up drinking.

You've given up drinking?

Yeah. No social lubricant.

So, how did you find my new digs?

Gwen Pearson and Shelley Asher.

We're in a secret Facebook group.

You're in a secret Facebook group with two of my exes?

Yep.

Nice garden flat, by the way.

Thanks.

I just bought my mum this exact same rug.

-Carpet Brothers?

-Yes. Oh, good spot.

I wrote the jingle for them.

"The selection's tops and the deals don't stop.

"Shagpiles for miles, we've got the lot."

Haven't heard of it. Are these for your next jingle?

I'm writing a song for a boyband.

You? A boyband?

I've had to commune with my inner teen girl.

-My boss is a bit of an ogre, though.

-Sounds scary.

I'm sorry about saying "lubricant" earlier.

It must have just...slipped out.

So why are you darkening my doorstep?

I was in town for a couple of days.

Cool.

-It's nice to see you, Andy.

-You, too.

Wait, I'm... I lied.

-It's not nice to see me?

-No...yes, it is.

I mean...

I've been in London for two months,

-getting my visa renewed.

-I've got to tell you,

if it's taking you that long, you should probably consider Mastercard.

And now that you've got your visa?

Heading back to New York.

Are you still... doing all that book stuff?

I'm an assistant editor.

Young-adult fiction.

Mostly contemporary coming-of-age stuff,

LGBT issues, eating disorders...

-You know lots about that.

-Yeah.

-Cos you've got an eating disorder.

-Yes, yeah.

Look, Melodie...

-Andy, I need to say...

-Sorry. Assistant editors first.

You know when you want to pick something up where you've left off,

but...

you've waited so long that you don't know how to begin again?

If this is about my competitive street-dancing career,

I've hung up my kicks for good.

Andy, will you be serious for one minute?

Sorry. My therapist says it's a deflection technique.

You're seeing a therapist? That's great.

I mean, it's my sister. But she gives me family rates.

-That was another joke, I'm sorry.

-SHE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY

(You don't know how good it is to see you.)

Yeah?

Then why didn't you return my phone?

You knew I had it this whole time?

Well, not until Gwen and Shelley confirmed your address.

Wha...?

The cabbie returned it to me like that.

Look, I'll make it up to you.

Andy! Are you crazy?

Duh! Obviously! I mean, that's sort of my thing.

I was too embarrassed to return it to you because then you'd know that

I knew that you were back in town.

You clearly didn't want to see me, otherwise you'd have got in contact.

That's not what happened. I thought about getting in contact every day,

but...my life's complicated.

The guy on the phone...

He's my editor. And a friend.

We tried to be something more, but...

But?

He knows I'm in love with someone else.

Are you saying what I think you're saying?

You haven't spoken to me in over a year!

You haven't spoken to me either.

I needed you to make the next move, Andy. It couldn't have been me.

Oh, God, forget it. I shouldn't have come.

It was selfish.

I just needed to see how this was going to play out,

but it was a fantasy, it's just a childish dream.

I was coming for you, that day you left.

I was on my way and...

something happened...

..and I froze.

I'm done chasing you.

I'm done dreaming about you.

Do you want to be with me, the real me, or not?

Not?

I've never heard of her.

Melodie, wait.

Can't you sleep?

Are you feeling stressed?

Feeling inspired, actually.

Feeding the ogre.

Well, don't let me disturb you.

Don't go!

You're my muse.

So...

in your fantasy, what happens now?

We could go for the record, if that's what you want.

No!

I meant...

what happens to us,

tomorrow and...and the day after that?

We should start with a nice breakfast. Fair warning, though -

I am a shit cook.

Well, the cafe next to my Airbnb makes a delicious breakfast.

Hmm.

-And then?

-Then...

we could go to the zoo.

How did you know I loved animals?

Well, I knew that you fancied bears.

Shut up!

And then?

And then...we could take a trip somewhere tropical

and master the art of hammock sex.

And then?

And then we would come back to London

and we could spend the rest of our lives together.

That sounds like a dream.

What about your job? And New York?

We'll work it out.

I love you, princess.

MUSIC: Downtown by Petula Clark

# When you're alone and life is... #

Morning, princess.

How did you sleep?

I am starving, like Marvin Berry.

# ..Downtown

# The lights are much brighter there... #

Oh, no.

-Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

-# ..Forget all your troubles

-# Forget all your cares so go... #

-Fuck!

"..He said. Hadn't their sexy times clinched the deal?

"Perhaps he'd said something wrong.

"Perhaps he snored too loudly.

"Perhaps he lacked the introspection to know.

"Perhaps he didn't listen to his genius nephew enough."

-Errol.

-"Perhaps he didn't..."

Errol! You do understand this is a fantasy writing class?

There are many fantastical elements to this story

-that even I find hard to believe.

-Be that as it may,

when we say "fantasy", we mean the genre fantasy - witches,

dragons, magic, mythology.

Surely we're all bored of the whole Game Of Thrones aesthetic.

-ALL:

-No.

-It's just, at the moment,

your writing is a little bit too literal.

For example, one of your minor characters is named Errol...

Minor?! No, he's more of a co-lead.

Do you feel you have the ability to tell the same story,

but change the genre?

You see, Errol, I don't normally allow people your age into my class,

but you seemed mature beyond your years.

-Was I mistaken?

-You want mature?

I read the Guardian and the Daily Mail, just for balance.

Well, then. Surprise me.

Ye Olden Times.

'It's the Renaissance,

'plus the Medieval period, with a splash of the Dark Ages.

'In a quaint country inn, the stable master was enjoying

'a fibre-rich breakfast when his quietude was interrupted

'by the idiot stableboy who lived in the cellar.'

The Princess Melodie was in my bedchamber last night!

'Said the lowly stableboy.'

Did you fall into the vat of mead again?

I haven't touched a drop in months.

The princess did sleep in my bed.

Innkeeper, you believe me!

Forsooth, I believe there were a maid in your bed,

but if she spent the night, 'tweren't no princess.

I speak truth! She hath fled and left only this note.

Stableboy, how are we meant to believe you

when you tell such fantastical lies all the time?

'This was the innkeeper's wife, who was in fact a man.

-'Take that, sexists.'

-When have I ever lied?

What about the time you said a dragon ate your goat?

You don't even have a goat.

-Because a dragon ate it!

-Or when you said

a water nymph cursed you with incurable allure.

-Hello! Have you seen me?

-Or that time you said an ogre forced you

to pay him in songs to keep him from eating you.

-That IS true.

-It's only because you're simple and my blood

that I let you abide here. You don't pay rent

and you're the worst stableboy in Christendom.

-I am a balladeer at heart.

-Wait. He speaks the truth.

Every word is correctly spelt.

No halfwit stableboy could have written this.

Thanks. But she's fled, and I know not why.

-Was it the sex?

-Maybe because you're soft in the head

-and live in a cellar?

-It's a garden abode! And she knew all that.

And now I must find her and profess my true love.

Can't you just ring her mobile?

I mean...

send a messenger pigeon?

My pigeon is no more. I stamped on it to death

to...impress her.

Must you be such a dunce?

Maybe I am a mirror

and you are staring at your own dunce-y reflection.

-Shut up.

-No, you shut up.

-Shut up.

-You shut up.

-Boys!

-BOTH: Yes?

You both shut up and muck out the stables. They're full of horseshit.

-But my quest!

-But the horseshit.

-But true love!

-But the shit.

I'll do it later!

But first, Stable Master,

come with me to find the princess and make her my wife,

-or die trying.

-Hmm. I'll pass.

I have a folklore workshop anon,

and I'm yet to be visited by my muse.

Maybe our adventure will inspire.

-Please. I need your IQ.

-Ah, yes.

My Impressive Questing.

If it's enlightenment you seek, you should visit the Oracle.

Or the Wise Man.

Hmm.

Which is closer?

'And so the quest began.

'They bought supplies, which wasn't interesting, but realistic,

'and then they went to consult...

'the Oracle.'

SPOOKY CHANTING

What's all that moaning?

Is it...

Is it sex noises?

Oh, must you always?

It's the Oracle...

making sex noises.

You should have heard the princess's sex noises last night.

Can we not?

We can hear you!

THEY SQUEAL AND HOWL

ALL: We are the Oracle.

But there's three of you.

Yeah, we're the three aspects, innit?

The mother, the maiden and the crone.

THEY HOWL AND SCREECH

Wait, wait, wait, hold up.

Why do I always have to be the crone? You're the oldest!

I'm timeless. It's different.

Why does she get to be the maiden? I know for a fact

-you ain't no maiden.

-Neither are you!

Stop whingeing! We get it! You're both sluts.

But someone had to be the crone.

But I could be pretty. I've got good bone structure.

Bitches, be quiet.

These idiot stableboys obviously have something they want to say.

I'm a stable master, actually.

Nobody cares.

We hear you can guide our quest.

Yes, but first, you must answer a riddle.

I am light as a feather...

But even a giant...

Can't hold me.

The giant's a woman. That's always the twist.

-Your breath.

-I brushed my teeth.

-No, that's the answer. Breath.

-I told you it was too easy.

-You pick the riddle next time!

-Beckies, shush.

What is your query?

Do you know where I can find the Princess Melodie?

-She make a runner?

-Was it the sex?

-No! The sex was...

-Please hold while we buffer your query.

THEY HUM

ALL: # Melodie

# Oh, mmm... #

Yeah, can we move this along?

-Yeah, we don't know where she is, mate.

-Hang on!

I know you. Aren't you in a secret group with the princess?

She told you about our "Andy's a dick" Facebook group?

GIGGLING Very funny, Errol,

-but that detail might be a bit too anachronistic.

-Fine.

She told you about our "Stableboy is a horse's phallus" group

on the Book of Faces?

Oh, I hate the Book of Faces.

You've seen one woodcut of somebody's baby,

-you've seen them all!

-Hang on. The entire purpose of this group

-is to compare me to a horse's phallus?

-Can I join?

More importantly, can you use this group to find out where she is?

Let me think about that. No.

This is all a joke to you, isn't it? But this is my actual life.

It's not a game. My entire future happiness

relies on me finding my princess.

You, sexy mum, do you think

you can help me find her?

Why is everyone always asking me for advice?

-I've got my own problems.

-Ask me! I'm smarter than I look.

-And sound.

-I'm good.

Did she say anything about where she'd been recently?

Only that she'd bought a rug for her lady mother

-from the Den of Carpets.

-So, if they delivered the rug

then they'd know where her lady mother abides,

and thusly her lady mother

might know where her daughter, the princess, is.

-I'm fucking good.

-That was actually very useful.

Do you want to hear me play the mandolin?

We're all right, thanks. Cheers.

If all else fails, ask for the Wise Men!

ALL: Men, men, men, men, men...

BELL JINGLES

MANDOLIN PLAYS

Welcome to the Den of Carpets.

Are they magic carpets?

-Oh.

-In a way.

In the way that all carpets are magical

because they give us so much beauty and comfort.

THEY SIGH

I know. Everyone's expecting magic carpets.

It's actually been quite bad for business.

-By the by, what are you looking for today?

-We are on a quest.

I love a quest! What's it for? Like, a ring or a sword

or an enchanted cherry Bakewell?

True love.

-Oh, bless.

-It's the Princess Melodie.

She professed her love...and then fled.

Oh, God. Was it that?

I heard tell that she stopped by

to purchase a rug for her lady mother.

'Tis, um, a secret.

You wouldn't want me to divulge a secret, would you?

-Oh, go on.

-No, I couldn't possibly.

-Yes, you could.

-No, I couldn't.

No, stop that! No, you're evil!

Oh, you're ticklish!

I'm going to wee if you keep going!

No... I'm gonna piss myself!

Fine. You tortured it out of me.

My lady did purchase a rug. She had it delivered

to a cottage in the village of Dumpton.

But that's leagues away.

-We'll never make it.

-Not the old-fashioned way.

-But using my magic...

-Carpet?

-Carpet?

..cupboard, you'll be there in a jiff. It's just over here.

-If all else fails, just ask the Wise Man.

-Cheers.

Sorry, Errol, but the tickling seems a little bit odd, even for me.

I liked it.

Sometimes the truest things are the least probable, Siobhan.

Fair enough. Anyone got any questions or comments?

Is there a happy ending?

I'd like to keep this spoiler free for now, Doris.

Will there be any kissing? Maybe with some light choking?

-TBD.

-I hope the stable master dies.

He's not very sympathetic.

Life isn't very sympathetic, Jane.

Um, yes. You said there'd be ogres and elves and whatnot?

Patience, Dave.

THEY GASP

-It's this way.

-How do you know?

Because our screen direction's been left to right this entire quest.

Look! It's the lady mother's cottage.

DOOR CREAKS

You're...not the lady mother.

Close the door behind you, yeah?

-Isn't that...

-Princess Shelley? The Elf Queen?

-Yeah.

-Princess...Queen?

Don't think too hard on it. Stableboy, good to see you again.

How do you know the Elf Queen?

-We used to date. It was quite serious.

-It wasn't that serious.

It was pretty serious.

Stableboy, I'm here to stop you from

-making a horrible mistake.

-What?

Following my heart? Believing in true love?

I thought my problem was being too cynical.

No, you're a hopeless romantic. You have no follow-through.

You love the idea of being in love, but you live in a fantasy.

Why must you only pursue true love after you've driven it away?

All right, I self-sabotage. I don't know what real love feels like

so I assume it's supposed to hurt. Now, will you help us, or not?

Who's Not?

J/K!

Look, I don't know where she is, but...

dreams...

can come true.

Look at me, babe. I'm with you.

You know you've got to have hope.

-You know you've got to be strong.

-That's it?

-That's rubbish.

-It sounds much better when you sing it.

BOTH: Huh.

Or seek the Wise Man. I don't care.

Now, fuck off. I need my beauty sleep.

Stableboy, I really hope you find your princess.

-Thanks, Stable Master.

-But aren't you worried

if you live happily ever after, it'll affect your balladeering?

Don't you write from a place of abject misery?

HE ROARS, THEY SQUEAL

-I'm an ogre! Feed me songs!

-Oh, so you weren't lying about the ogre.

-Why would I lie about that?

-Because you lie a lot.

-You do! You lie a lot.

-Fine. I'll work on it.

-Good.

But you won't get a chance if I kill you first.

Can we take a rain check? I'm on a quest.

Do you think I give a flying toss about your quest?

You knew you promised me a song for today!

-A song, or death!

-Er...

# I'm too young to die Please don't eat me

# I'm too young to die Please don't eat me... #

That's a shit song!

I won't even kill you before I eat you, for that!

Wait! I have a song. A real song.

Of true love.

Go on, I'm listening.

-FULL ACCOMPANIMENT PLAYS

-# Lost

# In a land without love, hugs and hope

# Set adrift

# On a voyage without pants and socks and soap

# As we quest through the sleet and the snow

# And the hellfire burns below

# Lost

# Ah-ah

# In a land without lo-ove

# Monsters and demons erupting like semen

# They snuck through the cracks in the nigh-i-ight

# They smashed open the door and I've just rolled a four

# Now they're coming to take you ali-i-ive

# With my trusty companion we'll curse and we'll damn them

# We're questing by land and by sea

# Where she is, I can't tell But her face rings a bell

# Yes, it's thee, my Melodie

# Melodie, my Melodie

# She was so in tune with me

# Melodie, my Melodie

# I feel her coming over me

# My Melodie goes round and round My Melodie doth ring

# My Melodie was on my lips My Melodie doth sing

# My Melodie is soft and sweet My Melodie will do

# My Melodie is fiddly My Melodie is true

# She's my Melodie She's my Melodie

# She's my Melodie

# She's my Melodie My Melodie-ee-ee. #

Hmm. The lyrics are shit, but the tune is passable.

Not good, but good enough not to eat you.

Today.

Until we meat again.

M-E-A-T.

Get it?

Yeah. We get it.

It's a pun. "Meat" and "meet".

-Because I will...

-Eat us, yes.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking...

Well, I'm not short for an ogre. We come in all shapes and sizes.

Thing to remember is, I am scary.

Raar! Songs!

They keep telling us to seek the Wise Man. Maybe it's time we did.

I'd love to, but I'm going to be late for my fantasy writing class.

-Your what?

-You heard me.

-Folklore workshop.

-Don't be a nerd.

I can't do this without you. I need you. You're my wingman.

I'm not. I'm your co-pilot, at the least.

-What's a co-pilot?

-It's the other pilot of the plane.

I can't be explaining anachronisms to you. I'm going to be late.

Your schedule is more important than the love of my life?

Your love life is perpetually broken,

and making me late is not going to fix it.

Well, then, go! See if I care!

All right, then, I will.

Good! I don't need your help anyway!

Or anybody!

-That's all I've got.

-No, but the story's not over yet!

You can't just give up on the princess like that.

-What about true love?

-Fine. I didn't finish the story.

My uncle pulled me away in the morning and we searched all day

-and then I had to come here.

-Errol,

when we say, "Write what you know," it doesn't just mean,

"Write exactly what happened."

I turned a gay strip club into a witches' cave.

-And the carpet store?

-That was a carpet store.

But there was no magic carpet.

We had to take the Jubilee line out to her mum's house in Stanmore.

-Ugh. That is really far.

-She wasn't even home!

The whole conversation with Shelley was just a role-play

to keep us entertained for the way back.

So now the real-life experience is over, where do we go from here?

-I don't know.

-Does that scare you, not knowing?

I like structure. It's comforting.

Errol, there is no wrong answer.

Just use your imagination.

The stableboy wandered alone in the wilderness.

His beard began to grow very long and smelly,

but he trimmed it conveniently before we next saw him.

He searched high and low for the Wise Man.

He put his life in great peril -

well, a little bit of peril -

until finally...

he came across a temple...

but it was shut.

He banged and screamed to come inside.

Please!

No word. It was warded with magic charms.

All was lost.

Until finally, he mustered every last ounce of strength

and barged the doors.

-You! You're the Wise Man!

-Yes.

It was me all along.

-Only I knew you wouldn't listen to me.

-OK. Explain.

Oh, hello, Miss Thomas.

Oh, hi!

Errol. You know, you don't need to call me that.

I'm not your teacher any more.

I'm sorry, Miss Thomas. I mean, Melodie.

So is Uncle Andy awake?

-Er...

-Oh. I see.

It's better this way.

-If you say so.

-I think maybe you're too young to understand.

Stuff like this makes me not want to grow up.

Yeah. Hold on to that feeling.

Some day you'll miss it.

Tell Andy...I'm sorry.

Why didn't you tell me from the start?

You had to go through the journey

to be the man that would come out the other side.

-You were scared to tell me.

-Yeah. You can't keep a relationship

because you pull away when they get close

and then you cling on when they want to leave.

-Managed to stay friends with you.

-Bros before hos. That's different.

It's not different, Dave. And they're sex workers, not hos.

You're the idiot stableboy?

I went to a petting zoo once.

-I imagined someone younger.

-More blond.

-I imagined myself!

-You were pretty bang-on, then.

Roly, I do need your help.

I've hit a...bit of a dead end.

We're still in class.

That doesn't have to be a problem.

Well, she's closed down her Facebook.

-No new tweets in a week.

-Her Insta was active yesterday.

Every morning, coffee and Danish from the same place.

She mentioned a cafe by her Airbnb.

I know that cafe. One of my submissives works there.

-What's going on?

-So if we check Airbnbs local to that cafe

that have been booked for the last two months...

And input the time and geo-stamps into this totally not

stalking-related app that I've developed,

we can pinpoint my lady's location.

Presto.

That is incredibly helpful, Dave.

-Roly, I hope you're paying attention.

-Good work.

Now go and finish that story.

It was probably the sex.

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

-'Miss Thomas?'

-Ooh.

-'Er, Melodie.'

-Er, Errol.

-How did you get...?

-'Your Airbnb landlord.'

He's really gullible. Look out your window.

# Melodie, girl, look what you've done

# You stole my heart in front of everyone

# And now you've packed your bags and you're on the run

# Won't you stay and talk this over?

# Melodie, my Melodie

# I've written you a medley

# Seven hours in heaven

# Now it's all torn apart

# Seven hours in heaven, darling

# It was you from the start

# I don't like you

# I li-like you

# My Melodie

# Oh, I like you-ou-ou

# I don't like you. #

I like-like you.

DOOR OPENS

I suppose I owe you an explanation.

-If it's the sex...

-No, it wasn't the sex.

The sex was great.

I needed to test myself to see if I was ready.

I wasn't.

If it's the commitment level, you know, too much,

or not enough, then I'm a dial.

You can turn the knob in any direction that suits you.

That's not a dick joke.

Unless you...liked it.

It's not the commitment level.

It's the timing.

It's me and you, now.

Andy.

I love you.

Don't panic - it's not a proposal, it's a promise,

to be the kind of person that you want to wake up with.

I think I've finally got bored of fucking stuff up.

It actually feels good to... care about other people.

And, yes, I'm guilty of putting you on a pedestal, but...

..I know now that you're not some perfect, unobtainable princess.

You're...

You're just like me.

In fact, you might actually be crazier.

-Oh.

-I want to see how all that crazy mixes.

What do you say?

Pause.

Pause?

I'm going back to New York tomorrow.

But I'll be in and out of our UK office.

And, no, we're not going to date.

We won't be friends with benefits.

I want to be real friends.

And, yes, maybe occasionally we'll probably sleep together,

when we fall off the wagon.

And we're not going to lose touch like we did before.

Promise me.

We both have to be good about it.

-OK.

-And then maybe we'll get together.

But maybe you'll find someone else who's perfect for you

and I'll find another right person for me,

and one of us has kids, or a dog and a budgie,

and we grow old, and I get divorced,

or your partner dies,

and then, in the twilight of our years,

when the buzzing has stopped in both of our hearts and our heads,

then...

Well, then it'll be our time.

But what if my partner doesn't die?

And you don't get divorced?

And we miss our boat?

Then that'll be great too.

A story doesn't just have to have one happy ending, Andy.

Like a Choose Your Own Adventure.

How occasionally will we be falling off the wagon?

Bad news?

Just...news.

I get why you didn't tell me you saw her leave now.

I just didn't want to steal your hope.

Can I finally challenge you to try a vindaloo?

Yeah. I'm up for an adventure.

The best adventures are yet to come.

C-U-M. Get it?

Yeah. I get it.

Yoo-hoo!

I knew it!

Suck it, dildos!