BRIDGET JONES’ DIARREAH PART 3 – SERIOUSLY PUSHING HER LUCK (2014 Rejected French and Saunders sketch by Tim Briffa)
CHARACTERS. BRIDGET JONES (to be played by DAWN FRENCH,) HUGH GRANT (to be played by JENNIFER SAUNDERS,) MR DARCY (to be played by KATHY BURKE.)
INTERIOR OF BRIDGET’S FLAT
BRIDGET (VOICE-OVER): Units of alcohol consumed: 18. Cigarettes: 5….packs.
(CAMERA SLOWLY PANS PAST VARIOUS DISCARDED ITEMS OF CLOTHING, COTTON BALLS, EMPTY WINE BOTTLES, CAKE WRAPPERS, etc TO BRIDGET WHO IS SHAVING HER LEGS IN THE BATH WHILE SWIGGING FROM A BOTTLE OF WINE.)
BRIDGET V/O: …Okay, so maybe I was a bit hasty divorcing Mr Darcy over that photo I found in his drawer. But how I was to know it was some Bosnian refugee women and the 14 orphaned kids he was sponsoring and he wasn’t leading a double life behind my back after all? (C/U OF BRIDGET GIVING CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA.) Anyway that’s all in the past, onwards and upwards as they say! The only thing that matters now is whether or not I should give that Mr Grant another chance. I know all the evidence points to him being as just as big a bastard as he ever was, but I’ve decided to stop being so judgmental and to keep to my New Year’s resolution of completely ignoring my instincts from now on. Oh shit, I’m late for work.
(CUTS TO HUGH GRANT IN LARGE OPEN PLAN OFFICE)
HUGH GRANT: No looking forward to it Bridg! I can’t wait to spend a whole week in the country with you. No, you’re definitely not making a massive mistake by trusting me yet again, I really have changed this time. There comes a point in life, when you’ve been to one too many parties on yachts full of hookers and the whole thing starts becoming, oh I don’t know…soulless and empty somehow. (HE LOOKS WISTFUL FOR A SECOND) It’s time I settled down Bridg. I’m not getting any younger and frankly neither are you, though it has to be said I seem to be baring up a lot better, (SNORTS MASSIVE LINE OF COCAINE.) Yeah, look I have to go, I’ll see you later. You won’t forget to pack those absolutely, bloody sexy knickers of yours that show off that fabulous arse will you? Great! Yah see you. (PUTS DOWN PHONE AS PROSTITUTE GETS UP OFF HER KNEES)
PROSTITUTE: Was that okay Hugh??
HUGH: G-g-g-g-g, golly.
(CUTS TO BRIDGET AS SHE PUTS DOWN PHONE.)
BRIDGET: You know I really do think he’s changed this time. Sometimes a leopard really does change its spots. I just can’t believe how nice and caring he’s become lately. And that’s what I need right now, a nice, decent man and not a bastard. I definitely don’t want to be with a bastard right now, that’s for sure. (PHONE RINGS) Dammit it’s that dratted bore Mr Darcy. Oh I suppose I owe him this much. (PICKS UP PHONE WHILE PULLING FACE.) Yes. (PAUSE.) …falling apart without me, yes…do anything to get back together and see me do that cute wrinkley smile one more time (DOES CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA)...and yes I do know it was proven in court you never cheated… the DNA samples…the polygraph test…Yes, I know, but a girl is entitled to make a mistake, isn’t she? (GIVES CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA.)…I know…but the problem is I just don’t know if it’s enough proof, (LOOKS OUT OF WINDOW BORED)…I don’t just mean the court case, I’m talking about your love for me. I mean how do I know it’s real? Really real, I mean. And will never ever change? (TAKES A SWIG FROM BOTTLE OF SCOTCH WHILE STARING OUT OF THE WINDOW LOOKING BORED) And that’s precisely the problem Mr Darcy. I need someone who can offer absolute, irrefutable proof they will love me forever regardless of any future bad behaviour on my part or potential massive weight gain, or how will it ever work? (SOUND OF CAR ON GRAVEL) Anyway I have to go, Hugh Grant’s outside in his flash sports car looking very dashing – albeit a tad over-moisturized and well-manicured. (PUTS DOWN PHONE THEN TAKES ANOTHER SWIG FROM BOTTLE.)
(CUTS TO OUTSIDE AND HUGH GETTING OUT OF HIS CAR TO WELCOME BRIDGET, SUDDENLY LOOKING LIKE A MOVIE STAR)
HUGH GRANT: Bridg.
HUGH GRANT: So great to see you and my God, your arse looks fucking fabulous! Get in the car Bitch…I mean Bridge. (SLAPS HER ARSE AS SHE CLIMBS IN.)
BRIDGET: It’s so good to see you again.
(HUGH’S PHONE RINGS)
HUGH: Dammit. (SOUND OF GIGGLING FEMALE VOICE ON OTHER END) Shitty hell, somethings’s come up at work. I’m so sorry Bridge. We’ll have to make it next week, pushes her out of the car. You do understand don’t you?’
BRIDGET: Of course I do Hugh.
(CUTS TO BRIDGET IN HER FLAT HOLDING A BATTENBURG CAKE, WHILE TOPPING UP HER GLASS FROM A BOTTLE OF AFTERSHAVE): I just can’t figure Hugh Grant out sometimes. Maybe he’s just insecure – yes that’s it! (CHEERING UP) He’s just afraid to show his true feelings. (PHONE RINGS) Dammit. (WEARILY) yes….yes…. well just find another psychotherapist if you’re not making progress. I mean what am I supposed to do about it?…(EXASPERATED) Yes, okay. Okaaaaay.
BRIDGET (V/O): I know I should have said no, but in the end I agreed to accompany Mr Darcy to his United Nations conference thingy at Zurich. Yawnfest. (CUTS TO BRIDGET PLUS MR DARCY IN A TAXI GOING THROUGH CENTRAL LONDON.)
MR DARCY: Driver, are you sure we’re going in the right direction? I thought the airport was the other way?
CABBIE: No, you’re right mate, but the producer insisted we got in some famous London landmarks to help sell the film to American backers.
MR DARCY: So sorry, I totally understand – my apologies. (FURTHER SHOTS OF CAB PASSING INCONGRUOUS LANDMARKS, BIG BEN ROUND THE CORNER FROM CANARY WHARF. WHICH THEN CUTS TO THEM ARRIVING AT ZURICH AIRPORT.)
BRIDGET (V/O) Even though I have absolutely no desire to get back with Mr Darcy, for some reason I feel this strange desire to impress him and sound clever.
BRIDGET: So how’s it been going with all your United Nations humanitarian work thingy stuff Mr Darcy?
MR DARCY: (EARNESTLY) Well as a matter of fact, Bridget, we’ve run into a bit of a hitch. You see the Americans have just slashed their agricultural subsidies and if the Botswanese Government don’t kow-tow to the new trade quotas, they’re threatening to reduce it by another 20% and impose sanctions on top! It’s frightfully unfair and of course the poor farmers are caught in the middle, if the Yanks can’t be persuaded to back down it could spell disaster for the farmers and the millions who rely on them.
BRIDGET (LOOKING BORED): Right, yeah.
MR DARCY: And the worst part is the woman we had in charge of negotations fell ill last week with swamp fever, can you believe? We urgently need to find an expert on UN subsidy law by lunchtime or literally millions could end up dying of starvation. She would also need to be fluent in Botswan.
BRIDGET (V/O): Thank you God! At last I have a chance to prove to Mr Darcy that I’m not just some vacuous blonde whose only redeeming factor is her cute wrinkly smile.
BRIDGET: Did I ever mention that I have a doctorate in UN Agricultural subsidies law? And that I also grew up with a nanny from Botswania, so I can speak perfect Botswanese, or whatever it’s called.
MR DARCY: Oh my God Brigitte, that’s fantastic, you wouldn’t by any chance consider…
BRIDGET: …doing the speech tomorrow? Of course.
MR DARCY (HUGS HER): Bridget, you really are a wonder.
BRIDGET (V/O): Uh oh. Hope I haven’t dug myself in too deep here. Still anything to prove to Mr Darcy I’m not just some airhead bimbo.
(CUTS TO UN CONFERENCE. BRIDGET LOOKS NERVOUS AS SHE MAKES HER WAY TO THE STAGE WHILE QUAFFING A GLASS OF WINE EATING A VOL AU VENT.)
BRIDGET:…Erm hello everyone. (GIGGLES) I’m here to talk about Africa and their food problem thingy.
(CUTS TO SUITED AFRICAN DELEGATE WEARING HEADPHONES SAYING SOMETHING TO AFRICAN WOMAN NEXT TO HER): (SUBTITLES) I can’t understand a word she’s saying, surely this isn’t Botswanian?
BRIDGET:…but the really important thing I’ve learned today is that…the vol au vents are amazing. (GIGGLES) Not that that’s going to help the starving Africans much. (LAUGHS AWKWARDLY TO HORRIFIED SILENCE FROM THE AUDIENCE. AS SHE WALKS OFF, HER DRESS GETS CAUGHT ON A NAIL IN THE PODIUM, REVEALING HER IN A HUGE PAIR OF KNICKERS.)
(CUTS TO AFTER SPEECH)
MR DARCY (TALKING INTO HIS PHONE): I’m sorry to hear that, Yes I understand.
BRIDGET: I slightly cocked that up for you, didn’t I Mr Darcy?
MR DARCY: They’ve decided to withdraw the subsidy. A large part of the African sub-continent will probably starve.
BRIDGET: I am an ass.
MR DARCY: But don’t you understand, Bridget. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. All that matters is that… I love you. I don’t care that you’re shallow, completely self-absorbed and a pathological liar, because as long as you keep doing those cute wrinkled smiles to camera, it makes it all worth it. (MAKES CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA)
BRIDGET (SUDDENLY SERIOUS): But how do I know you will always feel this way. What if you change your mind for some reason. What if I’m even fatter in the next film? Or more annoying? What if I…(MR D’ARCY STICKS A PIECE OF GAFFER TAPE OVER HER MOUTH)
MR DARCY: I will always love you Brigitte, no matter…how fat… or annoying you might become (BRIDGET PULLS OFF GAFFER TAPE TO GIVE A CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA) Bridget Jones, will you…re-marry me?
BRIDGET (PAUSES TO THINK): Well, that’s all nice and everything, but I really do need a bit more proof of your absolute undying love (MR DARCY LOOKS COMPLETELY EXASPERATED) If I could just think of some way (SOUND OF CAR ON GRAVEL AS HUGH GRANT DRIVES UP AND SUDDENLY APPEARS.) I’ve got it, maybe if you fight Hugh Grant one more time, then I’ll know for sure.
HUGH GRANT: Darcy you rotten cad. (PUNCHES MR DARCY IN THE FACE.)
MR DARCY: Look there are perfectly legal ways to settle these matters, our firm even has a showbusiness department, we handled the Janet Jackson case….(HUGH HITS HIM AGAIN) Ow, now that really hurt, I’m actually being serious now…(HUGH PUNCHES HIM AGAIN HARD) Oh for God’s sake…(HUGH COMES RUNNING TOWARDS MR DARCY) All right then, if you really insist on handling things in this primitive manner…(PICKS UP WINE BOTTLE. QUICK CUT TO HUGH GRANT LYING IN A POOL OF BLOOD WITH A BOTTLE EMBEDDED IN THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD. TO BRIDGET) Now do you believe me?
BRIDGET (GIVES MR DARCY CUTE WRINKLEY SMILE):…I do.
(CUTS TO STEREOTYPICALLY ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE CHURCH THE FOLLOWING DAY.)
BRIDGET: I do.
(VICAR CRIES, CONGREGATION ERUPTS IN SPONTANEOUS APPLAUSE AND CARNIVAL TYPE WHISTLING. WHILE EVERYONE IS KISSING AND HUGGING EACHOTHER BRIDGET SPIES SOME ALTAR WINE AND STARTS TO SWIG FROM THE BOTTLE. CUTS TO RECEPTION AFTER.)
MR DARCY: To Bridget (RAISES HIS GLASS)
WHOLE CROWD (IN UNISON WHILE RAISING THEIR GLASS): To Bridget…No matter how fat she gets!
(THEY ALL START KISSING AND HUGGING EACHOTHER AGAIN. BRIDGET GIVES CUTE WRINKLY SMILE TO CAMERA AS ‘LOVE IS ALL AROUND’ BY WET, WET, WET PLAYS.)