Inside No. 9

Welcome to Hotel Zanzibar.

I see you have not stayed with us before,

but please feel free to linger in our corridor

and take a butcher's around the ninth floor.

The residents, who here will spend the night

like mountaineers at base camp,

they just might be on their way up or on their way down.

Some wear an anorak, others a crown.

But all are here to meet their fate head-on.

Will Lady Luck smile on them come the dawn?

Who knows?

'Cause I'm just here to nick their chips

and smile and smile

and hope for decent tips.

Mr Blue and Mr Brown are in the building.

For shame, Henry, why speak you to your cuff?

There's no one here, you're armed.

- Yes, sir. - So chill.

The fact that we use pseudonyms is enough

to keep me safe from harm, surely.

But still. I made an oath to your father, the King,

that I would keep you in my sights all week.

His enemies would not hesitate to bring a gun to a knife fight.

- Henry... - Let me speak.

You are our country's future, dearest Prince.

Myjob's to save you from any grievous plot.

But all this talk of murder makes me wince.

Like this iambic foot, you're stressed, I'm not.

Now let me to my room.

Good night, God bless.

- I take it we have all the channels? - Yes.

Ah, Mr Brown.

Your luggage is within.

Do you need a tour of the room?

Not fussed.

- And, Mr Blue? - I'm in 912. Go in.

And just so you know, that tip's from both of us.

Sleep well, sweet Prince.

He shall not live the night.

'Tis understood assassins wish him dead.

To cleanse our country of his family's line.

So when Prince Rico meets my little friend

and grief does shake the old king of his wits,

my father stands in readiness to rule.

Then I will wear the prince's crown instead.

And I'll be 911,

not 912.

Young man, come here.

A word with you, I pray.

I wish to speak more plainly, if I may?

Sir, it's the only language I understand.

Good.

I wish to order some room service

which is off menu, if you catch my drift?

I do indeed, sir.

Would you care to describe the dish you had in mind?

- A female. - Mmm-hmm.

- Redhead. - Mmm-hmm.

Mature.

A-ha.

Willing to indulge in some slightly unusual practices.

No problem.

Yellow or brown?

What?

Does sir prefer the water sign or the earth sign?

- Oh, water. - Absolutely.

Here.

- The other half will come... - After you do. I understand.

Leave it with me. I know just the girl for you.

Oh, happy days!

The fates they do conspire.

I'll profit from another man's desire!

- Yes? - I'm sorry, sir, but may I trouble you?

There is a strange man in my room.

Which room?

It's one of these, but which I cannot say.

Things fall out of my head so quick these days.

Did you not see the sign upon my door?

Do not disturb me, please, I do implore.

Sir, he's got me all aquiver.

And here he comes! He means me harm.

Mother! I'm so sorry, she wanders off a lot.

Come back to bed. You're missing Emmerdale.

Is this your son?

- I don't know. - Yes, I am.

She knows me not. It's such a sorry tale.

She took a tumble nipping into Boots. This was in August.

1953.

She hit her head and now her memory's gone.

My memory's fine.

For them days, not for these.

She's like a goldfish that you win at a fair.

You mean she's going to die within a week?

No. She swims about, but nothing is retained.

We're trying this new memory technique.

Are you my husband?

No, he's just a man.

A man who wishes to be left in peace.

If that is all, I'm going to close the door.

I met him once on Coronation Street.

Oh, Mother.

I can't believe you made me walk in heels.

A taxi would have been, like, £15.

Then you make my carry all these bags.

You know full well my back is really bad.

Why pay a boy in uniform a pound for doing something we can do ourselves?

Sweet Amber, don't be angry with me, please.

You have the key card?

Yes, I've got it here.

It doesn't seem to work. I don't know why.

What if I pop it quickly in and out?

Just like our sex life.

- Amber. - Sorry.

No joy. I'll go back to reception. You wait here.

No joy?

No joy we've had for ages now.

Ten years together. Maybe that's our peak.

Our love has turned as stale as last week's bread.

Long gone the days when he made my knees weak.

A night in a hotel won't be enough

to keep my heart from all this nagging doubt.

Do I extend my holiday with Gus

or do I pay my bill and then check out?

Is aught the matter, madam? Are you locked out of your room?

Yes, my boyfriend's gone to fetch another card.

Oh, they are most unreliable.

Boyfriends?

No, the key cards. But I know what you mean.

My Fred, he's the bellboy, he can be a bit tricky sometimes,

but he's got a good heart.

Have you been together a long time?

Oh, yeah, ages. 15 weeks.

He's forever trying to drag me into one of the empty rooms

for a bit of how's-your-father,

but that turns me right off 'cause my father's dead.

At least he's attentive.

Yeah, he's always standing to attention if you take my meaning.

But there is nothing he wouldn't do for me.

So do you want me to let you in? I've got a pass key.

No. Do you have any other rooms available?

Um, there's nobody booked in 913. I can show you in there if you like.

You're right. A woman should be wooed with care.

Oh, no, we haven't had it off in there.

Excuse me, miss. I hate to be a bore.

I was looking at my key card

and I saw the number of this room is 9-1-1.

For me to stay in here, can't be done.

Well, you do not like the number, sir?

No way.

Well, 914 has just come free today.

Ah. I'm very superstitious as of late.

To stay in 911's tempting fate.

Well, at least you haven't had to travel far.

Have you taken anything from the minibar?

No, but will you tell the bellboy on this floor

the water sports will now be 9-1 -4?

What water sports?

We haven't got a pool.

Excuse me, I'm missing a plug for my bath.

It's not electric, sir. That would be dangerous.

To keep the water in.

Oh, that kind of plug.

I'll try and find you one, Mr...

Green.

Poor girl. She does not know the reason why I need a bath plug urgently.

For that which stops the water running out

will stop also what little life there is in me.

When these blue rivers in my wrist

do run and mingle with the cheap bath salts and soap,

then will my guilt drain out with them to sea.

And will my children mourn?

I can but hope.

My boys, my twins,

were given up at birth.

Their mother died. I was still in jail.

One stayed in England, one was sent abroad.

I know not what became of either one.

So tonight, I will put me to my sword

but for a bath plug,

then 'tis quickly done.

I have the new card here, Amber.

She's gone.

Perhaps she is inside.

Or has she flown?

Ugh! These sodding key cards never bloody work.

I must have held it near my mobile phone.

Colette, my dainty duckling,

is going to meet me here for a bit of "how's your dead father?"

I'll leave it on the latch.

Well, the key cards can't be trusted.

Ah, sir, may we speak plainly once again?

- Of course. - You're barking up the wrong tree.

Your room is down here, 911.

Oh, I see. That'll be why the card refused to work.

Your room service is on its way.

Oh, great.

Bring it straight up, will you? And...

Be discrete.

Naturally.

Anything else I can help you with, sir?