POD

Episode Five – Tuesday

Written by

Peter Richard Adams

SCENE 1.

JEMIMA: 	(V.O.) Space. The final job before I quit. These are the voyages of UK Space Agency Engineering Pod Number 46. My five-year mission: to explore the ten square metres I’m trapped inside, seek out Pluto and boldly go and switch the lights off. If they’re still on. 

FADE

SCENE 2.

F/X: 	THE LOW HUM AND BLEEPS THAT YOU WOULD EXPECT FROM THE INTERIOR OF A SPACE-GOING VESSEL.

JEMIMA:			What day is it Pod?

POD: 				Tuesday.

JEMIMA:			Oh come on! Really? 

POD:				Yes, absolutely. 

JEMIMA:			But it’s always Tuesday. 

POD:	I can assure you, it isn’t. Quite a lot of the time it’s Wednesday. Or Thursday. Or Friday. Or…

JEMIMA:	Ok, ok… Well in space it feels like it’s always Tuesday then. 

POD: 				What does a Tuesday feel like? Is it sandpaper?

JEMIMA:			No.

POD:				Cat hair?

JEMIMA:			No. 

POD:				Desiccated coconut?

JEMIMA:			No. 

POD:				What does a Tuesday smell like?

JEMIMA:			What are you talking about?

POD:	I’m just trying to understand the parameters of Tuesday. It’s a computer thing. I’m a computer. 

JEMIMA:	Ok, well I suppose my feelings about Tuesday are just that. Feelings. They’re not sense based… Just emotional…

POD:	Ok, then explain your emotional response to Tuesday. 
		 
JEMIMA: 	Well, it’s like this. Tuesday always feels like the most awful of days. And that’s because Tuesday always is the most awful of all the days. And because today is an actual Tuesday, not just a pretend Tuesday, by default this is about as awful as it gets. 

POD:	I don’t get it. It’s just another seventh of your week structure. You might as well not like half past four.

JEMIMA: 			Well there is some reasoning behind it, Pod. 

POD:				Go on. 

JEMIMA:	It’s like this… Wednesday is ok because Wednesday is always the middle of the week. Halfway through a Wednesday you know you’re on the downward slope to the weekend. Thursday is ok because there’s just one more day to go until the weekend. Fridays are brilliant because they’re essentially when the weekend starts and Saturdays are even better because that’s the thick of it. Sundays could be bad. In fact they should be bad. But they’re not because at least they’re still the weekend. Monday might seem horrible but at least there’s a feeling of hope in them because there’s a whole new week ahead of you, a whole new beautiful canvas for life to paint upon. But Tuesday…Bloody Tuesday… That’s the day when you realise that your hope was misplaced and that someone has left a dirty protest on the canvas. Because this is it. This is life. This is Tuesday. And the damned inevitable truth is that this… right here… in all its wretched banal glory, is actually as good as it will ever get.

POD: 	I sense that you may have very deep-seated feelings about this. 

JEMIMA:			I do. 

POD: 	Then why not lie back and tell me about them? Go on.. get it off your chest…

JEMIMA: 			Ok. 

POD: 				Here. Let me turn the down the lights a little…

JEMIMA:			That’s nice…

POD: 				And play some relaxing music.

JEMIMA: 			Mmmm. 

F/X: 					RELAXING MUSIC PLAYS.

POD:	Now breathe… That’s right… Breathe… In through the nose… two, three, four…. And out through thee mouth… two, three, four… Now… Tell me… When did you first want to have sex with your mother? 

JEMIMA:			What?!

POD:	Your mother, Jemima. When did you first want to have sex with her? You know, sex? The bad thang? The hotdangit? The ticklish fandango? Mr Sausage’s Wild and Wet Holidididay? 

JEMIMA:	I know what sex is Pod. But why are you bringing my mother into it? 

POD:	Ok, forget I said anything about your mother. Why not concentrate on Tuesdays instead. Think about Tuesdays… Think back to your childhood. Did anything bad ever happen to you on Tuesday?

JEMIMA: 	Well I suppose I remember going to school for the first time on a Tuesday… 

POD: 	Interesting… Interesting... Tell me a little more about that. 

JEMIMA: 	What’s there to tell? I was used to being at home and then one day my mum took me off to school and left me there. 

POD: 	Ahh, your mother again. Interesting… Interesting… Now, was it around this point that you decided to have sex with her? 

JEMIMA:			Pod!

POD: 	I know you wanted her. Come on. Cut to the chase. Your momma. When did you first realise she had the good stuff going on? 

JEMIMA: 			Right, hang on. Lights up. Music down…

POD: 				Music down. 

F/X: 					RELAXING MUSIC TURNS DOWN.

JEMIMA:			What is this, Pod?

POD:				What’s what? 
JEMIMA:	This! The “lie back on the bed Jemima”. The “I’ll just dim the lights Jemima”. The “Breathe deeply while I play relaxing music Jemima”… You’re up to something and I want to know what, right now. 

POD:	Well, if you must know, it’s your monthly counselling session. 

JEMIMA:			But I don’t want a monthly counselling session. 

POD:	I guessed as much. Which is why I was trying to coax your unawares into a monthly counselling session. I’m such a rascal. 

JEMIMA:	Since when did I have monthly counselling sessions anyway?

POD:	Only since the mission started. They make all the deep space operatives have them. It’s so they can keep an eye on how nuts they’ve gone. 

JEMIMA:	So they worry about us going funny?

POD:	Oh no. They know for certain that you’re going to absolutely lose it. They just like to keep an eye on you so they know when you’ve gone completely gaga. That way they can do their best to protect you from yourself… Stop sending any sharp food in the care packages… That sort of thing. 	

JEMIMA:			Well, that’s comforting. 

POD:	I’m glad you think so because I’m completely new to this sort of thing. I’ve had to do some serious research. Now, why don’t you tell me about having sex with your mum?

JEMIMA: 			No I will not! Why are you obsessed with that? 

POD: 	Because all of you filthy humans do. It’s all in my book. Freud. 

JEMIMA:			Sigmund Freud?

POD:	No Barry. Barry Freud. He’s the preeminent psychologist in the field. I’m not sure if they’re related… It’s all in there. Humans want to bang their mums. Black and white. Bang bang bang. Can’t see why myself. 

JEMIMA: 			Well that’s because you never had a mum, Pod. 

POD:				Yes I did. 

JEMIMA:			Really?

POD:	Yeah of course. I’m not a monster. I was born and programmed by my mother, Andy. I send him a birthday card every year and the occasional little note to let him know how I’m getting on. 

JEMIMA:			Who is Andy, Pod? 

POD:	Andrew Howells. He’s the one who knocked me up at UKSA Development. 

JEMIMA:			Your mother?

POD:				Yes.

JEMIMA:			Who flicked a switch and brought you into being?

POD:				Yes. 

JEMIMA: 	Lights down, music up. 

F/X: 					RELAXING MUSIC TURNS UP.

JEMIMA:	(CONT) Now tell me Pod, how long has your mum turned you on? 

POD: 	Well it was just the once. Twenty two years ago at the… Hey! No way! Lights up! Music down! 

F/X: 					RELAXING MUSIC TURN DOWN.

POD:	Don’t reverse psychoanalyse me! That’s not how this works. I do you. Not the other way round. The lunatics aren’t taking over this Podsylum. Not on my watch.

JEMIMA: 	Well it doesn’t matter anyway Pod, because you’ve got it all back to front. Freud – Sigmund that is, not Barry – had this theory that men wanted to have sex with their mums. Men. Not women. Which is what I am.

POD:	I’m still not 100% sure on that. Plus that’s not what Barry says. 

JEMIMA:	Just take my word on this, Pod. I’m a woman. And therefore I don’t want to have sex with my mum. If Freud’s right then I’d be far too hung up on my dad to give my mum a second thought. 

POD:				Your dad eh?

JEMIMA:			Yes. 

POD: 				Interesting. Lights down, music up.

F/X: 					RELAXING MUSIC TURNS UP.

POD:	So tell me, how long have you wanted to have sex with your dad? 

JEMIMA:	Ewww! Pod! I don’t! Lights up. Music off. 

F/X: 		RELAXING MUSIC STOPS.

POD:	How come? Not a hotty?

JEMIMA: 	No!

POD:	I can see why that would be a problem. 

JEMIMA:	Well, that wouldn’t be the only one. 

POD:	How come?

JEMIMA: 	Well if you must know, Pod…

POD:	I must. I must. 

JEMIMA:	I never knew my father. 

POD:	Interesting. Lights down, music up. 

F/X: 		RELAXING MUSIC TURNS UP.

POD:	(CONT) And how did that make you feel?

JEMIMA:	It didn’t make me feel anything. I was too young to know or care. And I never have. 

POD:	What happened to him? 

JEMIMA:	I don’t know. He just went. Got up and left. People do that. 

POD:	Do they? Why?

JEMIMA:	I don’t know. And I don’t really want to go into this, Pod. 

POD:	Ok, but let me ask you this… In the absence of your father, would you say that your mother essentially became both your mum and, de facto, your dad. 

JEMIMA:	Well yes, I suppose so…

POD:	Meaning you would transfer any feelings you held against your father onto your mother. Maybe anger? Anger at the way your father left you? 

JEMIMA:	I suppose I was a bit troublesome as a teenager. 

POD:	I’m not surprised. 

JEMIMA:	Why?

POD:	Well it must have been a nightmare. Such conflict! Being angry at your mum and wanting to have sex with her all at the same time. 

JEMIMA:	Right. Lights up, music down. 

F/X: 		RELAXING MUSIC TURNS DOWN. 

JEMIMA: 	(CONT) I’ve had enough of this Pod. Isn’t there anything else we could be doing? 

POD:	We could play some pranks on John? 

JEMIMA:	Yeah ok. Get him on the Comm.

F/X: 		COMMUNICATOR RINGS.

POD:	Oh hang on. Can’t. I’ve got a comm coming through. 

JEMIMA:	Who is it Pod? 

POD:	It’s your mum. 

JEMIMA:	(SIGH) Ok, put her through. And Pod?

POD:	Yup?

JEMIMA:	Not a word, ok?

POD:	Got it. Comm open. 

F/X: 		COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES ON.

JEMIMA:	Hi Mum. 

POD:	Hi Mrs Bellafonte! Feeling sexy? 

MUM:	(D) What?!

JEMIMA:	Don’t worry about Pod, Mum. I think he’s malfunctioning. 

POD:	I’m not. I’m operating perfectly within parameters… 

MUM:	(D) What’s got into him? 

JEMIMA:	He’s running some sort of therapy programme…

MUM:	(D) And talking about sex?

JEMIMA:	Yes. 

MUM:	(D) Well that does make sense I suppose. 

JEMIMA:	No, it doesn’t. 

MUM:	(D) Yes it does. The one always leads to the other in my experience. 

JEMIMA:	Are you sure Mum?

MUM:	(D) Absolutely. I only went for therapy once but, sure as onions are onions it soon heated up. Of course normally I wouldn’t go in for that sort of thing but Sandra, one of the cashiers, swears by it so I thought why not? And let me tell you it got pretty steamy. It’s only natural I suppose. What with the no clothes on and the hands all over you and the oils and what not. 

JEMIMA:	I’m not sure this is the same sort of therapy Mum. I think you’re talking about a massage. 

MUM:	(D) Funny sort of massage that ends like that. Still, everyone seemed to be happy at the end of it. 

JEMIMA:	Mum! That’s definitely a massage. And not a particularly savoury one.

POD:	I don’t want to be the one who says “I told you so,” but given that you’re currently thinking about your mum having sex, I rather think that me and Barry Freud were along the right lines, don’t you think?

JEMIMA:			Shut up, Pod. 

POD: 	There’s a reason he’s the preeminent psychologist in the field, Jemima! 

JEMIMA:			Why are you calling anyway, Mum? 

MUM:				(D) I always call you on a Thursday.  

JEMIMA: 			Thursday?

MUM:				(D) Yes. 

POD:				She must be mistaken. 

JEMIMA:			Not Tuesday? 

MUM:				(D) No. 

POD:	Jemima, the woman doesn’t even know the difference between a counselling session and a prostitute. I don’t really think she can be trusted to know the days of the week. 

JEMIMA:	Pod!

MUM:	(D) Prostitute? What prostitute?! I don’t know anything about any prostitute. 

JEMIMA:	Don’t listen to him mum. 

MUM:	(D) It was just a nice man with wandering hands was all. 

JEMIMA: 	Mum!

POD:	Confusion… Anger… Sex… This is brilliant. Ok, Lights down, music up. Dr Pod is in the building. 

F/X: 		RELAXING MUSIC TURNS UP.

END