[Cut to a man holding up cards saying 'Marriage Counsellor'. The counsellor sits behind a desk. He puts down the card as he hears the knock on the door] Counsellor: Next? [A little man named Arthur Pewtey enters, with his beautiful blond buxom young woman named Dierdre] Arthur Pewtey: Are you the marriage guidance counsellor? Counsellor: Yes. Good morning Arthur Pewtey: Good morning, sir Counsellor: [stares at Dierdre, fascinated] And good morning to you madam [pauses, shrugs himself out of it] Name? Arthur Pewtey: Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Pewtey, Pewtey. Counsellor: [writes without looking down, just stares at Dierdre] And what is the name of your ravishing wife? [holds up his hand] Wait. Don't tell me - it's something to do with moonlight - it goes with her eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yeilding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny whit rabbit. Arthur Pewtey: It's Deirdre. Counsellor: Deirdre. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name [leans across and lightly brushes his hand across Dierdre's cheek] And what seems to be the trouble with your marriage Mr. Pewtey? Arthur Pewtey: Well, it all started about five years ago when we started going on holiday to Brighton together. Deirdre, that's my wife, has always been a jolly good companion to me and I never particularly anticipated any marital strife - indeed the very idea of consulting a professional marital adviser has always been of the greatest repugnance to me although far be it from me to impugn the nature of your trade or profession. [The counsellor and Dierdre are not listening, fascinated by each other] Counsellor: [realizing Pewtey has stopped] Do go on. Arthur Pewtey: Well, as I say, we've always been good friends, sharing the interests, the gardening and so on, the model aeroplanes, the sixpenny bottle for the holiday money, and indeed twice a month settling down in the evenings doing the accounts, something which, er, Deirdre, Deirdre that's my wife, er, particularly looked forward to on account of her feet, [the counsellor has his face fantastically close to Dierdre's, as close that they could get without kissing] I should probably have said at the outset that I'm noted for having something of a sense of humour, although I have kept myself very much to myself over the last two years notwithstanding, as it were, and it's only as comparatively recently that I began to realize - well, er perhaps realize is not the correct word, er, imagine, imagine, that I was not the only thing in her life. Counsellor: [who is practically in a clinch with her] You suspected your wife? Arthur Pewtey: Well yes - at first, frankly yes [the counsellor points Dierdre to a screen; she goes behind it] Her behaviour did seem at the time to me, who after all was there to see, to be a little odd. Counsellor: Odd? Arthur Pewtey:Yes well, I mean to a certain extent yes. I'm not by nature a suspicious person - far from it - though in fact I have something of a reputation as an after-dinner speaker, if you take my meaning.... [A piece of Dierdre's clothing comes over the top of the screen] Counsellor: Yes, I certainly do [Dierdre's bra and panties come over the screen] Arthur Pewtey: Anyway in the area where I'm known people in fact know me extremely well.... Counsellor: [taking his jacket off] Oh, yes. Would you hold this? Arthur Pewtey: Certainly yes [helps him with it; the counsellor continues to undress] Anyway, as I said, I decided to face up to the facts and stop beating about the bush or I'd never look myself in the bathroom mirror again. Counsellor: [down to his shorts] Er, look would you mind running along for ten minutes? Make it half an hour. Arthur Pewtey: No, no, right-ho, fine. Yes I'll wait outside shall I?... [the counsellor has already gone behind the screen] Yes, well that's p'raps the best things. Yes. You've certainly put my mind at rest on one or two points, there. [exits through door. He is stopped by a Southerner] Southerner: [in his Southern American accent] Now wait there, stranger. A man can run and run for year after year until he realizes that what he's running from...is hisself. Arthur Pewtey: [surprised] Gosh. Southerner: A man's got to do what a man's got to do, and there ain't no sense in runnin'. Now you gotta turn, and you gotta fight, and you gotta hold your head up high. Arthur Pewtey: [with confidence] Yes! Southerner: Now you go back in there my son and be a man. Walk tall. [exits] Arthur Pewtey: Yes, I will! I will! I've been pushed around long enough! THIS IS IT! This is your moment, Arthur Pewtey. This is it, Arthur Pewtey! At last you're a man! [opens the door very determinedly, and goes to the screen where he hears Dierdre giggling] All right, Dierdre! Come out of there! Counsellor: [from behind the screen] Go away! Arthur Pewtey: [back to being a coward] Right. Right. [He is hit on the head with a chicken by a man in a suit of armour] [CAPTION: 'SO MUCH FOR PATHOS'] Voice Over: So much for pathos.

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