Fawlty Towers Scripts:	A Touch  of Class 

[The Fawlty Towers reception lobby.]

Basil: 		[on the phone] One double room without bath for the 16th, 17th  and 18th... yes, and 
		if you'd be so good as to confirm by letter? ... thank you so much,  goodbye. [puts the 
		phone down]

Sybil: 		[bustling in] Have you made up the bill for room twelve, Basil?
Basil: 		No, I haven't yet, no.

Sybil: 		Well, they're in a hurry. Polly says they didn't get their  alarm call. And Basil, please               
		get that picture up - it's been there for a week. [goes into office]

Basil: 		It's been there since Monday, Sybil... Tuesday... Wednesday...  Thusrday...Friday... Sat - 
		
		[realizes Sybil is no longer there; goes across to Manuel who has come  in carrying               
		three breakfast trays] 

		Manuel! There - is - too - much - butter - on -  those - trays.

Manuel: 	Que?

Basil: 		There is too much butter on those trays. [he points to each  tray in turn]

Manuel: 	No, no, no, Senor!

Basil:  		What?

Manuel: 	Not 'on- those- trays'. No sir - 'uno dos tres.' Uno... dos...  tres...            

Basil: 		No, no. Hay mucho burro alli!

Manuel: 	Que?

Basil: 		Hay... mucho... burro... alli!

Manuel: 		Ah, mantequilla!

Basil: 			What? Que?

Manuel:  		Mantequilla. Burro is... is... [brays like a donkey]

Basil:  			What?

Manuel: 		Burro... [does more donkey imitations]

Basil: 			Manuel, por favor...

Manuel: 			Si, si...

Sybil: 			[coming back in]  What's the matter, Basil?

Basil: 				Nothing, dear, I'm just dealing with it.

Manuel: 		[to Sybil] He speak good... how do you say...?

Sybil: 			English!

Basil: 			Mantequilla... solamente... dos...

Manuel: 	Dos?

Sybil: 		[to Basil] Don't look at me. You're the one who's supposed to  be able to speak it.
                
		[Basil angrily grabs the excess butter from the trays.]                

Basil: 		Two pieces! Two each! Arriba, arriba!!      

		[He waves his hand towards the bedrooms and Manuel runs off.]
                
Sybil: 		I don't know why you wanted to hire him, Basil.

Basil: 		[sitting at typewriter] Because he's cheap and keen to learn,  dear. And in this day 
		and age such...               

Sybil: 		But why did you say you could speak the language?      

Basil:  		I learnt classical Spanish, not the strange dialect he seems  to have picked up.       
              
Sybil: 		It'd be quicker to train a monkey.      

[Misses Tibbs and Gatsby come down the stairs.]
               
Sybil: 		[turning on the charm] Good morning Miss Gatsby, morning Miss Tibbs.     
               
Basil: 		[imitating the charm ironically] Good morning, good morning.      

Sybil: 		Basil!     

Basil: 		Yes, dear?     

Sybil: 		Are you going to hang the picture?

Basil: 		Yes I am, dear, yes, yes...       

Sybil: 		When?        

Basil: 		When I've, when I've...       

Sybil: 		Well, why don't you do it now?

Basil: 		Well, I'm doing this, dear [indicating typewriter]... I'm doing the menu.           
   
Sybil: 		You've got all morning to do the menu. Why don't you hang the picture now? ... Well?         
                 
Basil: 		[jumping up] Yes, all right, I won't do the menu... I don't think you realize how long it 
		takes to do the menu, but no, it doesn't matter, I'll hang the picture now. If the menus are  
		late for lunch it doesn't matter, the guests  can all come and look at the picture till they are 
		ready, right? [he starts to  hang the picture to the right of the dining-room door]    
          
Sybil: 		Lower... [he lowers it]... Lower... up a bit... There! [she disappears]        

Basil: 		Thank you, dear. Thank you so much. I don't know where I'd be without you... in                      
		the land of the living, probably.                  
                  
[He holds the picture in position. A young couple, the Mackenzies, come hurriedly  down 
the stairs and ring the reception bell.]                
                 
Basil: 			Yes?       

Mr Mackenzie:  	Er... could we have our bill please?

Basil: 			Well, can you wait a minute?        

Mr Mackenzie: 	Er... I'm afraid we're a bit late for our train - we didn't get our alarm call.                 

[Basil glowers at them, then puts the picture down and strides  back to the 
typewriter.]               
                 
Basil: 			Right. I was up at five, you know, we do have staff probelms,  I'm so sorry, it's all 
			done by magic.        
                
[He starts typing the bill. Sybil looks in from the office.]                  

Sybil: 			[accussingly] Basil, are you doing the menu?        

Basil: 			No, I'm not doing the menu, dear. I am doing the bill for these  charming people who 
			are in a hurry.                

Mr Mackenzie:  	[to Sybil] I'm sorry to cause all this trouble, but the reason we're late is 
			we didn't get our alarm call.                 

Sybil:  			Oh dear, I am sorry. [sweetly] Basil, why didn't they get their  alarm call?     
  
Basil:  			Because *I forgot*! I am so sorry I am not perfect! There you  are, there's the bill. 
			Perhaps you'd pay my wife, I have to put the picture up...  if there aren't any dustbins to               
			be cleaned out...                   
 
[He walks towards the picture again. A newspaper boy comes in  and puts his papers on
 the tables.]               

Boy: 			Newspapers!                 
 
[Basil turns after him aggressively, tapping his watch - the boy exits rapidly.The 
Mackenzies    leave; Basil's farewell smile lacks sincerity.]       

Basil: 			Goodbye. See you again!              
                     
Sybil: 			Don't forget the picture, Basil.        

Basil: 			I won't, dear, leave it to me.       

Sybil: 			I'm going out now. I expect it to up when I get back. [she leaves]       

Basil:  			[through his teeth]  Drive carefully, dear...      

[He takes the papers into the dining room, and, ignoring the other guests, gives one to 
Major Gowen.]                 
                  
Basil: 			Ah, good morning, Major.

Major: 		Morning, Fawlty.     

Basil:  			I do apologise for the tardiness of the arrival of your newspaper this morning, 
			Major. 	I will speak to them  again, see if something can be done.                
                   
			Ah, more strikes... dustmen... Post Office... It makes you want to cry, doesn't it.                  
			What's happened to the old ideal of doing something for your fellow man, of service? 
			I mean, today...

Mr Watson: 		[from his table] Mr Fawlty?

Basil: 			Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming! [to the Major, quietly] They treat you like dirt, you know...        
			of course it's pure ignorance, but  with the class of guests one gets nowadays...

Major: 		Ah! D'Olivera made a hundred!

Basil: 			Did he? Did he really? Good for him, good old Dolly. Well,well, well...                        
                      
[Polly arrives with a cup of tea; he takes it, and gives her the other papers]                
                  
Basil: 			Thank you, Polly.

Mr Watson: 		We're only staying till Sunday!

Basil: 			Right, thank you... 

[Basil picks up some food from the sideboard and goes through the lobby into the office;                    
he has just sat down when he hears Sybil coming and hurriedly pushes his snack out of                 
sight] 
                
Basil: 			Ah, I thought you were going out, dear.

Sybil: 			[holding out a copy of Country Life]  What's this?        

Basil:  			I decided, Sybil, to advertise. I...       

Sybil:  			How much did it cost?        

Basil:  			Oh... I haven't... fifteen?       

Sybil:  			Forty.      

Basil:  			[vaguely] ... Forty...       

Sybil:  			I have *told* you where we advertise.     
 
Basil:  			Sybil, I *know* the hotel business.

Sybil:  			No you don't, Basil.      

Basil:  			Sybil, we've got to try to attract a better class of person.      

Sybil:  			Why?      

Basil:  			Well, we're losing *tone*.      

Sybil:  			We're making money.    

Basil:  			Yes, yes...      

Sybil:  			Just.     

Basil:  			Yes, but now we can try to build up a higher class of clientele! ...Turn away some
			of the riff-raff.

Sybil:  			So long as they pay their bills, Basil.

Basil:  			Is that all that matters to you, Sybil? Money?           
 
Sybil:  			This advertisement is a waste of forty pounds. [turns to leave]      
                 
Basil:  			One moment! One moment, please! [proudly hands her a letter from the desk]  Well?

Sybil: ...		Well?       

Basil: 			 My dear woman, Sir Richard and Lady Morris, arriving this evening. For two nights.      
			You see, they saw the advertisement in Country Life      
           
Sybil:  			I wish they were staying a week.                    
   
Basil:  			Well, so do I...        

Sybil:  			Might pay for the ad then. [makes to leave again]      
 
Basil:  			Sybil, look! If we can attract this class of customer, I mean... the sky's the limit!

Sybil:  			Basil, twenty-two rooms is the limit!        

Basil:  			I mean, have you seen the people in room six? They've never even sat on chairs 
			before. They are the commonest, vulgarest, most horrible, nasty...                                   

 [But Sybil has gone. The reception bell rings. Basil goes to the reception desk; standing 
there is a very non-aristocratic-looking cockney, Danny Brown.]               
                 
Danny:  		'Allo! [Basil stands appalled] Got a room?  
                    
Basil:  			...I beg your pardon?     

Danny:  		Got a room for tonight, mate?     

Basil:   		...I shall have to see, sir... single?     

Danny:  		Yeah. No, make it a double, I feel lucky today! [smiling  appreciatively at Polly, 
			who is passing]  'Allo... 
                  
Polly: 			[smiling nicely] Good morning.        

[Danny watches her as she leaves. He turns back to Basil who is staring at him with 
loathing.]                                  

Danny:  		Only joking.      

Basil:  			No we haven't.

Danny:  		What?             

Basil:  			No we haven't any rooms. Good day...        

Sybil:  			[coming in] Number seven is free, Basil.       

Basil:  			What? ...oh... Mr Tone is in number seven, dear.     

Sybil:  			No, he left while you were putting the picture up, Basil... [to Danny] You have 
			luggage, sir?

Danny: 		 Just one case. [to Basil, pointedly] In the car... the white sports.
   
[Basil closes his eyes in agony. Sybil rings the bell.]       
                                   
Sybil:  			Fill this in, would you, sir?   
                      
Basil:  			[quietly] If you can.       

Sybil: 			 I hope you enjoy your stay [looking at register], Mr Brown.       

[Manuel arrives.]                  

Basil: 			 [slowly]   Er, Manuel, would you fetch this gentleman's case from the car outside. 
			Take it to room seven.                
 
Manuel:  		...Is not easy for me  .

Basil:  			What?       

Manuel: 		 Is not easy for me... entender.  

Basil:  			Ah! It's not easy for you to understand. Manuel... [to Danny]  We're training him...  
			he's from Barcelona... in Spain [to Manuel] Obtener la valisa...  

Manuel: 		Que?

Basil: 			La valisa en el, er auto bianco sportiv... y... a la sala.siete... por favor. Pronto. 
                             
Manuel:  		Is impossible.             
    .. 
Basil: 			Look, it's perfectly simple!

Danny:  		[fluently]   Manuel - sirvase buscar mi equipaje que esta en el automovil blanco y 
			lo traer a la sala numero siete.      

Manuel: 		Senor habla Espanol!

Danny:  		Solo un poco, lo siento. Pero he olvidado mucho.       
                
Manuel:  		No, no, habla muy bien. Muy muy bien. Formidable!  
Danny:  		Gracias, gracias.  
  
Manuel:  		Lo voy a coger ahora. [runs off to get the case]   

Basil:  			...Well, if there's anything else, I'm sure Manuel will be able  to tell you... 
			well together. [goes into the office]

Danny: 		[calling after him] Key?