Just Stop Percy

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Cast

George Byron

Percy Shelley

Scrope Berdmore Davies

Mary Godwin

Claire Clairmont

2 irate car owners

Constable Spooney

Mr. Fletcher - the porter

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Scene 1

 

2025, High Street, Oxford - a group of students, bravely surrendering a day's incarceration in the library, are leading a rowdy protest 

 

S: Link arms, sisters - here, sit next to me - men, you can sit on the verge and mind the soup (all the girls titter and rush to S's side) 

M: But Percy, there's a very big truck heading our way! 

S: The working classes are on our side, Mary - they too need clean water - you know, to hose down the pebble dash in their council estates

C(sinks into hoodie): They seem quite angry, Percy - oh! look at all the dangling things and flashing lights they have in their little cabins! - are they votive offerings to the oil companies?

S: Yeah, undoubtedly (to self: sheesh - so tasteless) - come - sit between me and Mary - my poor Claire - such conviction yet so in need of my protection

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Claire and Mary fight for the nook of Shelley's arm

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S: What shall be our chant today?

M &C: United - united - we'll never be divided!

S: Hmm - that may confuse our friends studying molecular biology (ponders) - what about  ‘ Rise, rise like lions from slumbers, like - we really have the numbers'?

M: Catchy - but we'll save it for when we open all the gates at London Zoo during rush hour

S:  ‘ We are many, you are few'?

C: That'll do

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The chanting begins - a man leaps out of vehicle

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Driver 1: Get out of my way, you freaks - my wife is about to give birth to triplets! (Moans are heard from inside the car)

S(stands up): Triplets!! Are you aware that overpopulation will result in tsunamis in Tewksbury and tornadoes in Tunbridge Wells?

Driver 2(a cannier individual): Hey guys - I hear you - big time - but, like, I have to get to my tribal drumming class 

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Sirens are heard - the law has arrived

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​CS: Right - I'm Constable Spooney - you all have to move, if you would - these people are trying to get to work
S: We have every right to gather, Constable Spooney - do you know who my father is? He sits in the assizes in Sussex, in Horsham - and I require your badge number

CS: This isn't CSI, you plonker - and you are knicked!

P(weeps): But I was just trying to rescue a kitten trapped under the car (spots Scrope leaving the bookies) - Scrope! - over here!

SBD: What are you doing draped over that policeman, Shelley - you mad old dog 

S: I am being martyred to Big Oil and Big Hair - can you get me some representation? Father won't bail me out - again - do you know anyone who can plead my case?

SBD: Hmm - I may do - I have a friend, a spirited chap, loves hopeless causes -  besides, he is due to make his maiden speech in the House

S: Sort it, Scrope, and like pronto, yah? - not that I'm not willing to serve my time, of course

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P raises his fist as he is shoved into a Paddy wagon

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P: Fight the power, babes! My dear sisters - tell Mama I shan't be home to supervise the pool cleaners

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Mary and Claire weep - the menfolk on the grass verge are cooking up the tomato soup on a little gas burner and frying croutons with seasonal herbs and extra virgin olive oil

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​SCENE 2

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​Trinity College, Cambridge - the porters' lodge

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SBD: Morning, Mr. Fletcher, is Lord Byron about at all?

P: Yes, his lordship has returned - a generous man he is too - look what he bought me back from Turkey, a pearl the size of an ostrich egg for my wife

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Scrope enters B's rooms with a six-pack of Dutch Gold under his arm - B is sulking and playing online solitaire

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SBD: At the books, I see Byron? heh heh

B: Tasks suck! - What have you there? Dutch Gold? Scrope - are we on a losing streak?

SBD: Goodwood has not been so glorious for me! - broke tho' I be - I could hardly come with my hands hanging - and its alcohol content is - let's see 4.3% - good enough for the oiks, I suppose​ - by the way, you are to make your maiden speech, yes?

B: Yep indeed, I am - Fletcher, our porter, is just now getting a decent shine on the coronet

SBD: You'd better hurry before hereditary peers are abolished and replaced with the new ‘ Buy-A-Bribable-Peer' system (both snigger) - by the way, are you looking for subject matter?

B: I've been mulling ideas - I saw some horrors perpetrated on Englishmen while on my travels - but who wants to hear a travelogue? - I'm sure no one is concerned that I may well be diseased in the trouser department - hmm - unless I forgo the House altogether and host a travel program - isn't time served at Cambridge all the qualification one needs these days for a turn at light entertainment?

SBD: Forget that - tell me of the horrors?

B: The price of first class for starters - the blankets are not even cashmere - never mind the advertised  ‘ infinity pool' in my suite - infinity?! -  I was just speeding up my stroke rate when I smashed my head against the end bit - it took three of my masseuses to rescue me

SBD: I'd say such subject matter might hasten the end of the hereditary peer - what about something closer to home - the right to protest perhaps?

B: Protestors? - how very tiresome those proles are - nearly crushed one under my Ferrari on the way to Ascot, some old geezer in dungarees (winces)

SBD: Well, they're awfully concerned about (insert cause) - a friend of mine - Eton man - is currently in chokey

B: Prison? - well, I do admire a man of passion - what's his name?

SBD: Percy Shelley, his father is a sheep farmer

B: Farmer, huh? - man of the people - yes, I would be happy to plead his cause in the house - lord knows everyone in Notts is well provided for - although I am considering taking action against the Byron Bingo Hall in Hucknall for prorietory rights

SBD: He will be delighted - he is due to be released on bond this evening - shall I arrange a meeting at the Dog and Duck?

B: Excellent - now, crack open that Dutch Gold - Love Island is about to start, two Notts barmaids from  ‘ The Rusty Manton', Lucy and Susan, have made it to the final

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The lads settle in​

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SCENE 3

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The Dog and Duck - S enters, shaken and grubby

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SBD: Over here, Percy! - This is George

P: Awesome of you to take up my cause, George

B: Call me Byron, if you would, what landed you in chokey last night, Percy?

P: Call me Shelley - like, yesterday myself and a few committed womenfolk laid down in the High to protest cars, trucks - you know - suchlike - and their effects upon the breeding duck population in the Cherwell (holds head in hands) - Father will kill me!

B: Oh, how rotten! - Is it lambing season?

P: What? - no - says he'll cut me off if that swine Constable Spooney sentences me to (weeps) - prison

B: Cut you off? - from what?

P: My inheritance, of course - not to say my current trust fund - my return on shares, index-linked to the price of wool etc.

B: You are not a farmer's son? - Scrope told me you were a man of the people

P: He's only a baronet!

B: Oh well - that indeed is a pitiful estate - and I do like the prospect of a father-son debacle - what is it you want me to say in my maiden speech?

P: To plead the - no, our - right to free speech, to protest, to cause chaos and mayhem, destroy works of art - d'you know - the monarchy - whatever

B(is quite disappointed): That won't cut any mustard with the Lords, Shelley - perhaps we could squeeze in some genuine rights issues - for example, did your arrest result in forfeiture of a dining reservation at Claridges? - or ruin a decent pair of trowsers?

P(is quite appalled): Er, it seems we're at odds here, Byron - are you aware that undergraduates and their time-warped tutors are the unacknowledged legislators of the world?

 

B and SBD roar laughing

 

B: Shelley - I can see your intentions are sincere - and I respect a man who believes in something - but I don't believe I can represent you with any degree of sincerity

S: So you feel nothing for our brave, exploited miners - freezing in unheated tunnels - bringing up buckets of oil?! - eating nothing but exhausted canaries?

B: Mines! Don't talk to me of mines - our mines in Rochdale have been tied up in litigation for 270 years!

SBD: Your case may not be so simple anyway, Shelley - you did slash Constable Spooney's tyres

P: I did not! - that was Mary - she did it with her nails, gel acrylics, ten formidable weapons they are too, heh

B: Well, you can hardly expect your girlfriend to go to jail in your place

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S hesitates​

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SCENE 4

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Mary and Claire burst in

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M: Percy, oh Percy - you're out of prison - were they awfully brutal? - Papa had the second gardener sharpen a pitchfork so we could break you out

C: I disagree - if you could go back in, we'd be better off - I've used up all my grant money on plastic posters, lanyards, and a graphic design firm for these fab t-shirts - look (twirls in cutting-edge protest apparel)

B: Evening, ladies 

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M & C are taken aback

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S: This is Byron - he is going to plead my case in the House of Lords

C: A lord!

M: Hello, I'm Mary..

B: Mary? - such a pretty, unusual name - it tolls a bell somewhere in my soul

M: I wanted to be re-named ‘ rhyfelwr tylwyth teg y llannerch cyll' - it's Welsh for ‘ fairy warrior of the hazel glade' - but Papa said it wouldn't fit on a credit card

C: I'm Claire - it rhymes with hair - would you like to touch it, would you like to touch my hair?

S: Girls! (is not happy) - I  have the baton of Constable Spooney hanging over my head (M&C hug S)

M: We'd be so grateful for your representation, Byron - the plebs are quite angry with us after we tomato-souped half the National Gallery

S: Mary is very active in the movement, Byron - why just last year she used a rucksack..

C: It was mummy's Mulberry - she was NOT happy!

S: Er yes - to scratch the eyes out of a portrait in the Houses of Parliament

B: Was that wise? - to whom belonged the eyes?

M: Oh, some imperialist, capitalist MAN wearing FUR!

B(is losing patience): So - you are all studying Environmental Science, yes?

P: er  - no, Classics

C: Same

M: er, same

B: Ditto guys, ditto - mother - the Hon. Catherine Gordon - forced me home from an extended gap year - believes I shall be unemployable if I don't get my degree

 

All laugh

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B: Perhaps we should move on from protesting issues about which you are ill-qualified to lecture anyone (the undergraduates sneer) - to be fair, from our postions of relative privilege - although my cellars are considerably depleted - are we really ones to be pontificating to and hectoring working people trying to get to Fortnums before it closes?  Perhaps we could lead an investigation into what pollutant is causing your hair to turn green (looks )- and blue?

M: That too is a protest against the patriarchy - isn't it, Percy?

S: No, Mary - if you remember, I said you are taking a stand against unrealistic expectations of feminine grooming spread by Big Hair shampoo companies (frowns)

B: Never mind, Mary - come with me to Brighton after the exams are over - our hair can turn naturally green together (M blushes)

S(stands in a fury): Do you care about the environment at all, Byron?

B: Well, of course I do! - would you look at my window sills - the dust! (to self: that Fletcher! - have a good mind to ask for my pearl back) - not to mind I've had to tolerate loathsome crysanthenmus instead of ghost orchids - my mate - Lord Sligo, d'you know him - well, his Gulfstream neglected to stop over in Cuba and collect them! (is in jaw-twisting dudgeon)

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While the protestors seem unconvinced, a brace of leggy, gracefully enhanced female students enter the bar and wave to Byron: Shelley waves back  - Claire and Mary gaze pleadingly at B

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B(nods): Oh, all right then - I dare say I can cobble something together - maybe I'll use Latin - or Greek - anyways, don't sweat it - I shall happily don the ermine for you​ and plead your earnestness, if not your cause

All: Don the what?

B: My robes, of course

All: FUR?!!!!

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The activists rise and grab various condiment sachets from the table - tomato sauce, mayonnaise, mustard - and squirt them towards B - who manages to duck in time - the sauces instead hit B's chicas, who launch at the activists, and a battle-royale of gel acrylics takes place - S in the middle doing almost his best to pry the ladies apart - Constable Spooney is called

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CS: Of course - the blue-rinsed hooligan from Horsham, again! - right - there'll be no bail tonight - or representation in the House of Lords (members of the law smugly guffaw)

B: Spooney - I shall take cognisance of the ladies; their medical procedures have put their nerves somewhat on edge

CS: Right you are, my Lord

S: Up yours, my Lord (bows, snarkily) We shall not submit to assistance - either in the House, or the Dog & Duck - from a fur-tolerant Peer!- Spooney, take us away! (M & C are dishelleved, and displeased) - I presume this is either an electric or a grapeseed oil-propelled vehicle?

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The dissidents are indelicately helped outside- B and SBD watch the petrol-powered paddy wagon disappear into the night, ploughing through varied protesters, drunken students and directionless ducks

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END

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