Fleas at Crufts sketch
SFX: DOGS BARKING, CROWD SOUNDS ETC
ANNOUNCER ON PA: And so we wait for the judge’s final decision for Best In Show.
BOB (FLEA): See anything up there, Terry?
TERRY (FLEA): (FAR AWAY) Nah. Hopeless. Hairspray’s makin’ me eyes water.
BOB: I said the poodle would be a mistake.
TERRY: (FAR AWAY) You don’t like wiry hair! I was doing you a favour!
SFX: DOG SHAKES VIGOROUSLY: EARS/MUZZLE FLAPPING
TERRY: (FAR AWAY) Bob! Bob! You ok?
BOB: That was close.
TERRY: (FAR AWAY) I’ll come down.
ANNOUNCER ON PA: And each dog strides out one last time.
TERRY: (CLIMBS DOWN TO BOB’S LEVEL, WITH EXERTION. NOW CLOSE.) Hear that? We’ve got one last run.
BOB: I wish Penelope …
TERRY: She’s gone. That’s women for you. She thought the wolfhound would win. I kept saying it’s just a Twitter popularity storm.
BOB: Look – there she goes!
PENELOPE: Coo-eee! Hello boys! Still think your nancy back-comb will beat this hunk of muscle …?
BOB: She might be right. Is it too late to switch?
TERRY: Sit tight.
BOB: I’m hungry.
TERRY: Didn’t you have lunch on the Pomeranian?
BOB: That was ages ago!
TERRY: Well, you can’t snack now. Hang on.
SFX: LEAD JANGLING AS DOG TROTS. WIND WHISTLING PAST.
BOB: (JERKY VOICE AS BEING BOUNCED AROUND) I’ll never … get used … to this bit.
TERRY: Penelope’s not … looking so smug … now!
ANNOUNCER ON PA: And yes! It’s the poodle!
SFX: CROWD APPLAUSE AND CHEERS
TERRY: We did it!
BOB: We won? Really?
TERRY: (YELLING) Oi, Penelope! Who’s sitting pretty now?
BOB: Don’t gloat. Oh no! Look!
TERRY: That wolfhound’s got a killer scratch on him.
BOB: There she goes! Do something!
TERRY: She might … oh. Oh dear.
BOB: What? I can’t see.
TERRY: Come away. Nothing we can do. One minute you’re having a snack, next you’re under a handler’s size tens.
BOB: Poor Penelope.
TERRY: Never mind that. Smile! Front page news tomorrow. I love Crufts. We’ll bring up our kids on a Champion!