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1.1 Matt’s Flat!       

    Interior: Matt’s flat - Pictures, Flags, England memorabilia etc.

 

 

Spoof and Matt are sat watching England get beaten by Brazil.

 

As the final whistle blows Matt is very upset. Looking at his signed photo of the 1966 England Team on the wall, he laments:

‘This lot today are not fit to lace their boots’.

 

He pulls down a treasured souvenir - a framed copy of the Sunday Mirror of 31st July 1966 – The headline proclaims:  ‘ENGLAND VICTORIOUS’. How he wishes he could have been there.

 

‘Maybe you can…’ says Spoof, sort of matter of fact. 

He tells Matt the apocryphal story of ‘Duck’ Duckworth, a mysterious ‘Mad Professor’ character living out on Blanchland Moor who, as legend has it, invented a machine that once and once only carried him back to the past.

 

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ was Matt’s retort of course, and he proceeds to berate Spoof for insulting his intelligence. Surely even Spoof couldn’t believe a story about a Time Machine. That only happened in films and the like.

 

‘Well, think what you want’  says Spoof ‘ but I heard it from a very reliable source..’

 

The lads open another beer and retreat back into their silent mourning. In the background the TV pundits are analysing the game, drawing inevitable comparisons with the success of 1966.

 

After a couple of moments, Matt asks:

 

‘Who told you?’

  ‘Told me what?’

‘Told you about this Professor bloke and his Time Machine. Who is your very reliable source?’

  ‘It was mi’ Granddad...’

 

1.2 Granddad’s Tale

Interior: Local Pub

 

 

The lads meet up with Spoof’s Granddad at his local, and treat him to a couple of pints. Before long they pluck up courage to ask him how he heard the story about the alleged Time Machine. Granddad is indignant.

 

‘I saw it!’ he said. ‘Saw it with my own eyes. Just as clear as I can see you now.’

 

Granddad’s bottle-bottom glasses do nothing to reassure Matt.

 

Granddad then tells them the tale of how, before his retirement, he worked part time for the Electricity Board, as a meter reader. They used to send him out to all the ‘difficult’ jobs that no one else wanted.

 

  Flashback:  V/O - Granddad narrates

 

One of these ‘difficult jobs’ was a remote old farmhouse out on Blanchland Moor, known as Duck Hall. The owner was supposedly a disgraced science professor. Why he was disgraced was not clear, but there were many stories of strange lights, witchcraft, and all the usual scary stuff, including a particularly bizarre tale of a Time Machine, which ‘came straight from a lad who once worked there as his assistant’.

 

Duck Hall lay at the end of a two mile long unmade track that was difficult in summer and impossible in winter.

Some had tried to make the journey. Some had succeeded, but none had ever got a reply. What with the weird stories, the rabid Rottweilers, wild bulls and killer geese somehow the meter reading was always estimated.

 

This had gone on for far too many years, so they sent Granddad in. He was a veteran of the Second World War. He’d beaten Hitler, and he wouldn’t let some madman get the better of him.

 

So he walked to the farm across the Moor, skirted round the bulls, made friends with the dogs (he was an expert dog handler from his time in the circus, of course), locked the geese in the barn and finding no sign of human life set up camp in the farmyard.

 

He didn’t have long to wait. It was about 3am on the very first night, which as in all good stories just happened to have a full moon. Granddad was woken by the sound of the dogs howling and yelping. Through the wall of his tent Granddad could see light coming from the direction of the barn. Fearlessly, though with some trepidation he went out to investigate. As he approached the barn the light inside grew brighter.

 

Suddenly the doors flew open.

The barn was empty save for the geese who were looking decidedly apprehensive. At that same moment this almighty noise came from behind him. His military training had not been wasted. He flung himself to the ground, just in time to feel the draught from what he felt sure must have been a 150-millimetre Howitzer shell pass over his head. There was bang, and a flash, and the geese let up with such a wild cackling.

 

Expecting an explosion he kept his face buried in the farmyard mire. But nothing happened. Slowly lifting his head he could scarcely believe his eyes. The barn doors were wide open, and inside he could see goose feathers falling gently like snowflakes on a very cold day. The light had now changed to a gentle pulsating greeny-orange glow, and there in the middle of the building was this Machine.

Cut back to Pub

‘Machine?’ asked the lads,

‘Well more like a car really, but not like any car I’d ever seen. There were bits welded on, and wires sticking out...’

Go on, what happened then?

      Flashback

The ‘Machine’ was glowing gently, and by now everything had fallen silent save for the regular tick, tick, ticking of cooling metal. There was a strange smell in the air. From his time in the perfume business Granddad immediately identified it as a blend of paraffin, bonfire night and roast goose.

 

With a gentle creaking the car door started to open. Although prepared for anything, Granddad thought it best to keep quiet for the moment. Slowly a bare, hairy leg appeared. A yell split the night air.

 

‘WHO, IN GODS NAME, PUT THOSE GEESE IN HERE?’

 

Slowly, the owner of the hairy leg stumbled out of car, collapsing in a smouldering heap to the floor of the barn. In the dim light Granddad could made out the shape of a tallish, middle-aged man with long flowing white hair. The man was wearing some kind of robes. Being a God-fearing man, it flicked through Granddad’s mind that this could be some kind of religious visitation. Stopping at the thought that his Creator, in whatever form, would surely not arrive on Earth in the middle of Blanchland Moor in a battered old car, Granddad decided that whoever he was he needed help.

 

It was time to break cover. Picking himself up he cautiously walked towards the barn. As he moved inside he could now see that the place was packed full of electronic gadgets, with hundreds of blinking lights and flickering dials, which accounted for the mysterious glow.

‘Blimey,‘ he thought, ‘this must use a hell of lot of electricity!’

 

He peered round and sure enough there on the back wall was the object of his desire – a NEEB 10/53 Forty-four Megawatt Three-Phase Meter – and a Mark 2 version at that! He was the consummate professional. The sight of such a rare specimen rendered him temporarily oblivious to the plight of the poor creature lying at his feet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his NEEB standard issue Torch and Notepad. He took the reading – this was no ordinary meter - there were ten digits! He checked and double checked, not quite believing what he had written, and stood back in admiration.

 

There was a groan behind him, and Granddad’s attention switched back to the prostrate figure. Before he could move though, the man sat bolt upright and let out another yell.

 

‘WHAT… WHAT HAVE I DONE!   THIS MUST NEVER EVER HAPPEN AGAIN!’

 

Granddad instinctively ducked back into the shadows. The man, who moments before had seemingly been out like a light, leapt to his feet. Jumping back in the ‘car’, he started the engine and spun it round to face out through the doors. From his vantage point he watched as the man attached a massive cable to the back of the car. His fingers were a blur as he pushed buttons and switched switches. There was a large display on the back wall. Granddad saw the numbers come up one by one: 3, 0, 0, 7, 3, 9, 5, 6.  ‘What did they mean?’ he wondered.

It didn’t matter. As the last number flickered into life the car revved up to full power. The noise was unbelievable. White hair flowing in the wind, with a triumphant yell the man reached through the open driver’s door and hit a big red button on the dash.

 

‘GO..,’  he yelled  ‘...GO FOR EVER!’

 

There was a flash and a bang, even louder than before. He was thrown to the floor and the car shot off and out through the barn doors. In a trailing shower of sparks, it headed across the yard straight for the house and... simply disappeared.

 

Granddad had by now seen enough. Bravery is one thing but this was unnatural, and after all he had got what he came for. The man was moaning and babbling incoherently but otherwise seemed capable of staying alive under his own steam.

Without stopping even to pick up his tent he legged it down the track just as fast as he could....

Cut back to Pub

‘And did you ever go back?’ asked Matt.

‘Never!’ exclaimed Granddad. ‘When I got back they said that according to my reading the man’s bill would be well over a million quid. They sacked me for gross incompetence, drinking on duty, and telling porkies.  I had to turn in my torch.’

 

Matt is not at all convinced. Spoof’s Granddad had been known to stretch the truth from time to time. However, pulling out a map of the moors the lads get directions off Granddad and agree that the following weekend they ‘might just go and have a look’…

 

 

1.3  Duck Hall Happening

Windswept Moor at dusk. Matt’s car. 

Matt is driving, Spoof is struggling with map and torch

 

Matt:    ‘We should have been there hours ago. Trust your daft Granddad to get it wrong. It’s getting dark now. We’ll have to pack it in shortly.’

 

Spoof: ’Well he seemed sure enough. Hang on, what’s that sign up there?’

 

Matt  (Peering out): ‘Shine you torch on it then.  It says  Keep Out – Private Property - No Visitors. That sounds like our man. AND…  there’s a picture of a white duck underneath. This must be it!’

 

Matt turns the car into the track.

 

Spoof : (looking back) ‘That’s not a duck you fairy, that’s bird-shit.’

 

Duck Hall

Spoof and Matt arrive at Duck Hall and pull into the farmyard. The place is obviously occupied – but at first sight there doesn’t seem to be anyone about. No wild bulls, no killer geese - not even a barking dog. It’s not at all what they expected, which makes them all the more apprehensive.

Still, they decide to get out have a look round. Sure enough there’s a light coming from the barn. They quietly walk over and listen. There are some soft bubbling and snuffling noises coming from inside, so they decide to gently open the door.

 

‘H-Hello…’

 ‘ Anyone here?’

There’s no response.

 

Moving inside they see the scientific paraphernalia - bubbling jars, electronic panels, flashing lights – much as Granddad had described.

 

Spoof lets out a soft whistle: (Whispering) ‘This must be the place alright – look at all this lot.’

 

In the gloom they spot a table, and lying flat out on it is a long ghost-like figure, in his forties, with flowing white hair. There are several brightly coloured wires attached to a Viking helmet on his head, which lead off to the back of the barn, where they seem to be connected to some mysterious shape in the far corner.

 

‘Duck Duckworth, the mad professor.’ says Matt softly.

 

‘Is... is he dead…’ asks Spoof as they creep apprehensively towards the body,

‘...I can’t see him breathing.’

 

Matt leans closer to the body:

 

‘Hello… Mr. D-Duck–w-worth.’

 

Matt prods him in the chest. As he touches the body there’s a banshee squeal from the shape in the corner and the fattest porker pig comes running out, attached to the other end of Duck’s cables.

The lads scream, Duck is pulled off the table, falls onto the lads and the pig legs it through the open door.

 

Duck:   ‘Holy Moses – who the hell are you?’

 

Matt:     ‘We thought you were dead.’

 

Duck:   ‘Dead? I could well have been thanks to you two.  I was merely carrying out an experiment in animal telepathy - attempting to control the pig by sending my thoughts to the pig’s brain.’

 

Spoof:  ‘Well you looked dead.’

 

Duck:   ‘I always look dead. Now, what exactly did you do?’

 

Matt:  ‘I stuck my finger into your chest and the pig squealed like it caught it’s arse in the bacon slicer.’

 

Duck: ‘Really! Amazing! We must have bonded! Come inside, let’s have some tea.’

Interior: Duck Hall

Over tea they introduce themselves, and Matt attempts to explain why they came. Under Duck’s questioning they confess to being curious about time travel, and relate Granddad’s tale. Duck listens without comment, except his eyes narrow slightly when the geese are mentioned

Eventually Matt comes right out and asks if the time machine actually exists. Duck is reluctant to talk about it.

 

‘So the stories aren’t true then,’ says Matt, ‘Granddad was lying…’

 

‘Not true..!! ‘  The Duck is incensed.  ‘..of course it’s true, and I remember that night like it was yesterday. Time travel is not only perfectly feasible, I did it!’

 

‘And…?’

 

‘I shall NEVER EVER do it again.’

 

‘What happened???’ Ask Spoof and Matt together

 

Duck:  ‘I can’t talk about it…’

 

Matt:  ‘But you built a machine..’

 

Duck (misty eyed):  ‘Yes I did. I called it the TODGER.’

 

Together:  ‘THE TODGER!’

 

Duck:  ‘Time Oscillation Divergence Generating Equipment.’

 

Spoof (thinking):  ‘…But that only spells TODGE. What’s the R for?’

 

Duck (dismissively):   ‘Er… never mind. It’s not important.’ (Reflecting) ‘It was my greatest achievement.’ 

 

Matt:  ‘Hang on. You’re telling us that you built a Time Machine, and it actually worked…so where is it now?’

 

Duck:  ‘It’s - gone -  gone for ever. So you see, even if I wanted to I couldn’t do it again. Now, thank you for coming, I must get on and find that pig…

 

Spoof:  ‘But couldn’t you just build another’

 

Duck dismisses the idea out of hand: ‘No, sorry, haven’t got the time. He grunts momentarily at his own humour. ‘Anyway why all this interest in time travel’

 

As they are ushered towards the door Matt explains enthusiastically about the World Cup and the 1966 Final. Duck sympathises and pauses thoughtfully as if considering the idea… then bids them goodnight.

 

 

Matt and Spoof return to the car and resignedly set off for home.

Eventually Matt breaks the silence:

 

‘I suppose it was a bit far fetched ‘ he says as they bump down the dirt track.

 

‘Yeah. Never mind - just forget it, mate’,  agrees Spoof.

 

 

1.4 TODGER’s Return

 

The days pass by, but instead of forgetting it Matt only becomes more and more captivated by the whole story. He dreams of time machines and flying pigs, and meeting Bobby Charlton.

 

He can’t forget the look on Duck’s face when he mentioned the 1966 Cup Final and eventually convinces himself that it would be worth having another try to talk Duck round. And what’s the best way of getting someone to do something they don’t want to do? ALCOHOL… and in this case, whisky.

 

The following Saturday Matt returns alone to Duck Hall, armed with an expensive bottle of Single Malt, and a lame tale about wanting to apologise for the previous weeks shenanigans.

 

Interior: Duck Hall

‘Sorry, never touch the stuff lad’, says Duck as they sit down. Matt’s gaze turns to a half empty bottle of Bells 8 Year Old on the sideboard.

Er.. Medicinal! exclaims Duck. ‘You never know when you might need it living so far out here’.

Well, surely you could just have a small drop with me  - just  to show there’s no hard feelings…’, Matt’s instincts had been right. As he reveals the label the Duck’s eyebrows raised in appreciation, and he made two fine cut glasses appear as if from nowhere, like David Copperfield in reverse gear. 

 

‘Just the one, mind’, says Duck with a grunt.

 

Just the one bottle that is. Matt and the Duck hit it off and natter well into the night.

 

Matt wisely let’s Duck do most of the drinking and consequently most of the talking. Eventually, inevitably, Matt steers the conversation back to 1966. Duck’s defences have disappeared along with the Scotch and he pours out his story…

 

Duck was just a lad, and like most lads of his day he was a great soccer fan. Being a proud Geordie his special heroes were the two Charlton brothers Jackie and Bobby, who of course were making history by playing together in the England Team that day. It turns out that by some minor miracle Duck’s father had managed to get two tickets for the Final. Even better, the Final was on Duck’s tenth birthday – 30^th July. What a perfect present!  It was fate. Simply meant to be…

 

Sadly, fate had a rival - Duck’s mother. Inexplicably she ruled that he was too young, and decided that Duck’s elder brother Terence would go instead.  No amount of whingeing, pleading, screaming or shouting would change her mind, and as in many a household then and now, Duck’s father was a not inclined to argue.

 

‘Terence. Bloody Terence, who never kicked a ball in his life…’

 

Duck’s eye’s glaze over and he gazes into the fire with a look somewhere between nostalgia and hatred. He very occasionally grunts. It’s a pivotal moment, and Matt holds his breath.

 

Duck jumps to his feet. They begin pacing excitedly round the room.

‘Right’,  he yells, ‘ we’ll do it!’

Matt is elated. He can see his dream taking shape. He can sense victory. Then reality takes over.

 

‘But you destroyed the machine. Can you build another one?’

‘No! I simply can’t get the trapatonium 94 isotope anymore – but maybe I don’t have to.’

‘But you said you destroyed the TODGER - the only TODGER’

‘No, no, I never said I destroyed it. I said it was gone, forever.’

‘Gone? Gone? Where Gone? Gone where?’

‘Into the future! Don’t you see,. It’s still here in the barn - but gone far into the future. With a time machine forever can be reversed.’

 

By now Matt’s emotions are on a roller coaster. He struggles to get his sodden brain to focus on what Duck is telling him .

‘Far into the future? How far?’

‘Well, about two – (coughs) ish years.’

‘Two ‘ish’? What’s ‘ish’’

‘Thousand.’

‘Thousand!’

‘Yes. To the 30th July 3956. 30073956…’  He repeats the numbers that Granddad had witnessed in the barn. ’It would have been my two thousandth birthday!’

‘Is that meant to be some kind of joke? 'Cos I’m not laughing. I hardly think we can wait till you get your 20^th telegram from the Queen before we set off, and without a another time machine I don’t see how we can go and get your TODGER, and if we had a time machine, which we don’t, we wouldn’t need to go and get the TODGER would we..?’

 

 

Matt’s brain overheats and he slumps down in the chair with his head in his hands. His dreams are fading…

 

‘Calm down, lad.’ says Duck. ‘I’ve got this..’

 

He goes over to a picture of Albert Einstein on the wall. Matt recognises the genius who first proved that time travel was possible, and is mildly surprised that he’d never noticed it before. He watches with puzzled amazement as Duck presses hard on Einstein’s nose. The picture springs open and hinges out to reveal a safe. After much ceremony he opens it and takes out a small box. Unlocking it with a special key, he opens it to reveal…

 

 …a video remote control.

 

 

He takes the remote over to Matt.

 

‘Th -That’s a zapper, Duck, how can that help?’

‘Well you see, the machine is in the future …’

‘Yes…’

 ‘but it’s still here in the barn..’

‘Yes…’

Well I programmed it so all we have to do is press rewind and it should come back.

 

Matt is tempted to stop trying anymore to make any sense of what’s going on, and is beginning to suspect that somehow Duck has spiked his drink with an illegal substance.

 

‘It should come back?’

‘Yeah, should do.’

 

Matt purses his lips and nods wearily

 

So,  what are we waiting for…?

 

The button is pushed. Nothing.

Then, a faint, distant noise. Their eyes meet with a look of anticipation.

A louder noise - their eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear.

They dash for the door and stumble out into the farmyard. 

There’s a flash of light, an explosive sound, a rush of wind, and a splintering of wood. They run over to the barn, which by now is issuing clouds of smoke, and is glowing with a pulsating orange light.

 

They stop outside and gaze in. The smoke starts to clear and there stands –   THE TODGER   –      a smouldering Ford Capri 1.6 GXL,  in two tone finish of orange and soot,  complete with vinyl roof and ‘go-faster’ flux capacitors

 

They begin to laugh excitedly at what they have just witnessed.

Duck turns to Matt and shouts:

 

‘Next time, Matthew, remind me to open the barn doors’

 

2.1 Going Back

A windswept  bridge  - 5 am

 

The Great Day has arrived. On a quiet country road the car is sat, ready and waiting for it’s epic journey. Ahead, the valley is spanned by the Amberleigh bridge, which carries the road across both the railway and the river.

 

Duck has explained that on the outward journey they need a high voltage electricity supply, which naturally has to be applied at precisely the right moment.

 

This means that someone has to be on the bridge to hold the cable. One end is picked up by a hook on the Capri just before it reaches the bridge, and the other end, which is attached to a lighting conductor at the end of a long pole, has to make contact with the overhead cable on the railway as the car exactly reaches the pre-determined point. This is job for someone who is brave, fearless and trustworthy.

Or stupid. In the absence of the former, Spoof has been volunteered. ‘Perfectly safe as long as you wear wellies.’ said Duck.

 

Duck:   ‘All you have to do is…  when we reach this point - here…  you lean over and touch that electric train cable – there… with the end of this pole. Couldn’t be simpler!’

 

Matt:  ‘But I thought you needed 100 megavolts, Duck’

 

Duck:  ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you see in the films Matt! A few hundred should do it.’

 

Spoof: ‘Well I, I, are you sure I won’t get fried.’

 

‘No no, no danger at all.’ reassures Duck. ‘In theory the charge will go round you. You won’t feel a thing. It’s known as the Cagney effect

 

Matt and Duck walk away

 

Matt:   ‘Cagney effect?’

Duck:   ‘James Cagney – Angels with Dirty Faces – 1938. At the end Rocky gets executed in the Electric Chair.’

MATT:   ‘And did the current go round him?’

DUCK:  ‘Well, he lived to make another thirty-eight films didn’t he.’

 

Spoof is temporarily re-assured by the technical term: ‘Oh all right then…’

 (Thinks to himself)   ‘Theory?’

He shouts after Duck: ’Hey! What d‘ya mean, in theory?’

 

 

 

Duck and Matt settle into the Capri. Despite Duck’s dire warnings about the dangers of altering the past, Matt has secretly brought his copy of the 1966 Sunday paper, neatly folded and tucked into his inside pocket.

 

Duck proceeds to switch switches and press buttons. With each push and press strange noises start and lights begin to flash. On the dashboard a display starts to show numbers

 

3, 0, 0, 7, …  The revs rise and blue smoke pours from the exhaust

 

..1, 9, 6, …   The smoke changes to orange and the engine is racing

 

..6!  As the last number clicks into place, Duck drops the clutch and the Pirelli Cinturatos scrabble for grip on the damp tarmac. With a squeal the GXL lurches forward, and starts to accelerate.

 

They pick up speed. By the time they reach the cable pick-up point they’re doing a steady 42 miles an hour.

 

‘We’re not going fast enough, Duck!’ shouts Matt.

‘Yes we are, Matty – you really do watch far too many films!’

 

The speedo shoots upwards 44, 47, 50!!

 

They reach the bridge. At the very last moment Matt spots a sign on the parapet – This Bridge Was Opened  by John Prescott, MP – May 1971 !

 

Matt yells frantically: ‘DUCK!  STOP!  The bridge – it  won’t be there in 1966…’

 

But it’s too late.  Spoof carries out his task to perfection.

He leans over the parapet. The electricity flashes, and they vanish.

 

2.2   1966 and all that

 

We see the smouldering Capri still on the road. It’s very early Saturday morning 30 July 1966.

 

Duck is outside pulling on the cable  ‘Matt come and help…’

Matt opens his eyes:

‘But I don’t understand – the bridge was only built in 1971. We should be in the river!’

      ‘What kind of fool do you take me for. I knew that, I checked up and there was an old bridge here before that… Now help me with this lead, there seems to be a problem.’

 

They try to pull the lead up over the side of the parapet. Peering over the edge they see Spoof on the bank, sat on the mud, hands still clenched tightly on the pole.

‘Are you all right?’  No reply.

    ‘Well he’s shaking so he must still be alive..’

They drag Spoof up to the road, and start to clean him up

‘Why didn’t you let go?’

    ‘You n-never said to let g-g-go…’

 

Food

Mid morning. A transport café on the A1, somewhere in southern England

 

The lads are getting hungry and decide to pull over. Duck is keen that they don’t draw attention to themselves. ‘Keep a low profile – and don’t talk unless you have to’, are his instructions.

 

But Duck hasn’t seen Spoof’s rear end. Spoof is wearing his England shirt. Unfortunately it has BECKHAM 7 on the back. As they walk across the car park a man approaches him. The man has a little boy with him who is bouncing a football:

 

‘Hey, why have you got my name on you’re back, son.’ asks the man.

Spoof unable to resist the urge to seem clever for once replies: ‘Oh , erm, well one day, Beckham will be captain of England.’

 

 

They sit down and the waitress comes over and takes their order.

‘Right then boys, that’s three full breakfasts with tea and white bread. I’ll be right back with your drinks.’

She returns: ‘Tea for three, and that’ll be nineteen shillings and fourpence all together please.

Duck turns to Matt with anticipation

‘Pay the lady, Matthew’  he says.

‘Me? Are you sure?’  hisses Matt in Duck’s ear, as Spoof tries to divert the waitress by asking about the weather.

 

‘I asked you to get some old money, didn’t I? You have got some?

‘Yeah I’ve got some ten pound notes’

‘Notes?’ says Duck with a furrowed brow, ‘where did you get notes’

 

‘Nineteen shillings and fourpence.’ repeats the waitress.

Duck turns and smiles condescendingly  ‘Er .., I do apologise miss but it seems we only have a ten pound note. Would you have change.’

 

The waitress is flabbergasted. ‘Ten pound note? Well we don’t get many of those in here! I’ll have to ask the manager…’

 

She goes round the back of the counter and consults with the manager. They throw some suspicious looks at the lads.

 

Duck is not happy and a more than little worried. He talks to Matt through clenched teeth: ‘Oh, dear, oh dear… and I didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Couldn’t you get anything smaller…?’

Presently the manager stands up and starts to walk towards them.

 

…’give me the note and just let me do the talking.’

Matt hands over the money – a grubby but modern tenner.

‘What is THIS?’ says Duck wide-eyed.

     ‘It’s an old ten pound note. It’s the oldest they had at the bank’

‘But this is not old money! It’s only … OLD MONEY!’

    ‘But you said…’

‘Quick,’ interrupts Duck. ‘Let’s get out!  Quick’

 

They jump in the car and make a swift exit.

Money?

In the car - still heading South.

 

They brought cash but they can’t spend it. So how are they going to buy tickets? Or Petrol? Or Food?

 

Depressed they pull over and sit thinking in a lay-by.

 

‘I’m starving.’ complains Spoof. 

‘Is your stomach all you can think about,’ says Matt as he takes out his old paper. ‘We can’t miss the game now, not after all this.’ he muses.

 

Duck glances across at Matt and is horrified.

‘Matty, didn’t I warn you what might happen if we went back in time and changed something. If that paper gets in to the wrong hands the whole future could be altered.

    ‘Why?’ says Matt naively.

‘Why? That’s got tomorrows news in it, and if some unscrupulous person had it who knows what they might do.’

    ‘Yeah,’ says Spoof, laughing. ‘They’d know who won the World Cup, and it’s not even been played yet!’

Matt stops and stares, realisation dawning. ‘THAT’S IT! Spoof , me old mucker, you’re a genius.’

 

Matt carefully opens the fading paper and turns the pages.

‘YES YES!’ he laughs, page 26’

    ‘Page 26??’

‘The racing results - Yesterday at Lingfield. That’s today, and the first race is 12 o’clock ! Springfield Lad won – wins - at 35 to 1! All we have to do is find a bookie and place a bet.

Duck is even more horrified: ‘No, no. Absolutely not. I don’t like this one little bit.. And anyway what will we use for stake money? Have you forgotten, we don’t have any cash??’

 

Ducks hands are resting on the steering wheel. Matt is staring at his left wrist.

 

‘Oh-Ohhh.. wait a minute.’ says Duck ‘This watch was my father’s – and his father’s before him. I’m not parting with this. Never…’

 

Tickets please…

In the Bookies – a High Street near Wembley

 

Tannoy (excited commentator):  ‘…and as they cross the line it’s the outsider Springfield Lad, by a neck.’

 

‘Phew that was close’ says Spoof innocently, ‘I thought he was going to lose.’ The others smile benignly.

 

Matt goes to the betting window, trying to appear casual. £20 on the nose at 35 to1 - £750. The bookie is not amused.  It’s quarter past twelve.

 

They jump in the car and head for Wembley to buy their tickets. They are speeding. Without warning, a grey-haired man steps out onto a Zebra Crossing, right in front of them. He’s wearing an overcoat and fur hat, and carrying a small bag.

‘Look OUT!’ they yell.

They skid to a halt. The man jumps backwards and falls to the ground. He’s sat on the floor holding his leg. Looking back Matt shouts: ‘Are you all right mate?’ The man is shouting at them in a foreign language and shaking his fist. He stands up gingerly.

‘He’s fine’,  says Matt,  ‘and anyway we didn’t actually hit him. C’mon, let’s go get them tickets. Bloody foreigners… he looked familiar though…’

 

The Match

Wembley Stadium – seats near the Royal Box .

 

The game kicks off and we see a montage of the action from ’66, and reaction from the lads

The game goes as planned they love every minute.

Helmut Haller scores early for Germany!  Hurst gets one back for England!  Half Time!

The second half is tense – the match could go either way.

In the 78^th minute Peters shoots England into the lead!

 

 

It’s 2-1 to England with minutes left and Germany get a free kick. Matt can’t resist.

 

‘You watch’ he says in a loud voice, ‘I bet they score from this. They need to keep an eye on that German Number Eight.’

 

There’s a scramble and Germany score of course. ‘I told you! I TOLD YOU.’

Matt gives a cheeky smile. Duck gives him a warning look.

 

It’s..  EXTRA TIME.

 

Alf Ramsay delivers his immortal line to the team: ’You’ve beaten them once, now go out and do it again!’

 

They watch enthralled as England  press the German defence.

 

Extra time is only eight minutes old when the ball goes forward to Alan Ball.

Matt’s heart beats faster. Now he knows every move, he’s watched it hundreds of times. Ball shapes up to cross the heavy leather.

‘Watch Hursty !’ he shouts, ‘He’ll score here I know it!’  Geoff Hurst clips the ball and it hits the crossbar, bouncing down behind the German keeper. Roger Hunt turns away arms raised in triumph. The crowd rise. GOAL !!!

 

It’s pandemonium in the stands. Hats are thrown into the air. Grown men are hugging each other and dancing. But wait a minute.

The Germans are pleading with the ref – they claim the ball didn’t cross the line. The referee goes over to his linesman, on the far side. The ground goes quieter, it’s as if all 100,000 people are holding their breath.

 

‘It was in all right’ says Matt to the man in front ‘I’ll bet you anything the linesman gives it.’

 

The linesman nods. Matt smiles. The referee turns and points. Corner kick.

 

Matt:     CORNER!.

Duck:    CORNER!!

Spoof: C-C- CORNER!!!

 

The man in front turns to Matt:  ‘Yeah, the bloody linesman’s Scottish. They never give us anything.’

 

Together:   ‘SCOTTISH?’

 

‘B-but he’s Russian…’, stammers Matt, in a high pitched voice.

       ‘Oh no he ain’t mate. Didn’t you hear? The Russian had an accident on the way to the match. It was a hit and run, and now he can’t run. They had to replace him at the last minute.’

 

They sit dumbfounded - the game goes on.

‘What’s gonna happen now.’ asks Spoof

Duck is sitting with his head in his hands. He suddenly starts to panic: ‘Where’s your paper, Matty?’

 

Matt:  (surreptitiously unfolding the Sunday Mirror) ‘Look Duck, look at the headline - it’s fading!’

Duck:    ‘I knew something like this would happen. This is terrible.’

Matt :   ‘No, no. Wait a minute. It’s, it’s OK . We get another. 4-2 remember -  we’ll still win.’

Duck:  ‘Yes, but don’t you see. We’ve damaged the time-space continuum. Anything could happen now!’

 

 

Final minutes

There’s only minutes to go, and the game is still tied at 2-2. In 1966 there are no ‘minute boards’ to be held up – it’s totally up to the referee to decide how much time to add on – if any.

 

Spoof:   ‘We must be near the final whistle, Matt.’

Matt:    ‘Don’t worry. (pauses) This is it!  Nobby’s got the ball. Forward to Hurst - Go on Geoffrey, my son!

 

Hurst is clean through. The crowd are on their feet. Only the goalkeeper to beat!

 

From the row behind the ‘celebrities’ yell out excitedly:

 

     #1:  ‘Some people are on the pitch…’

 

     #2:  ‘ ..they think it’s all over…’

 

Geoff Hurst shapes up to shoot.

 

     #3:  ‘ It is now…    The ref’s blown for time…!’

 

Matt:   ‘BUT HE SCORES!.’

Duck (in anguish):   ‘N‘No he doesn’t Matty. The referee blew before he hit the ball and he’s skied it over the bar! They’ll have to have a REPLAY!!’

 

Return

 

Later that night, in the car, heading North.

 

MATT:  ‘Can’t we just go back to this morning Duck and start again?’

 

Duck:  ‘I’m afraid we’ve no choice, Matty. I designed the TODGER to only do return journeys. That’s how I was able to get it back from the future. The coordinates are already programmed in, and the flux capacitors charged up from the outward journey.

 

MATT:  So what are we going to do?

 

DUCK:  We’ve got to get to the bridge before 10pm or we could be stuck here forever!  When we return to our own time, we’ll have to re-programme the coordinates, get back here again, and make sure that we never meet that linesman.

 

 

They return to the bridge, and wait. At precisely 10pm the car accelerates backwards and disappears with the usual flashes of sparks.

They arrive back in the present time, smoking but unscathed, and set off apprehensively to drive into town.

 

‘We’ll get some rest, refuel the coils, and go straight back,’ says Duck. ‘I just hope we can put things right – this is uncharted territory!’

 

However, as they come into town they start to notice that things have changed.

There’s distinctly a more European feel to the place. There are new half-timbered houses everywhere. Half the advertising boards feature German products.

 

The lads are feeling increasingly uneasy. Duck, who blames himself for agreeing to the idea in the first place, is almost in shock. They finally realise just how serious things are as they pull up at a road junction.

The traffic sign points left for Newcastle, right for Middlesbrough, but written ominously underneath the town names are the words Neu Castel  &  Mittelsburgh.

 

They have no idea what has happened. They decide to head for what used to be familiar territory, and pull up outside the pub. As they approach, a bright red neon sign informs them that it’s a Beerhalle now - German oompah music and all.

 

Going in, Matt recognises an old codger sat alone in the corner, decidedly worse for wear. Tentatively, they sit down, and offer to buy him a pint.

 

‘A pint!’  laughs the old man, ‘Hey, you’re going back a bit aren’t yer. Mek it a half – a half litre.’

 

Cleverly Duck probes as they down their drinks. ‘It’s a bit of a lark, all this German business – not like the old days eh!  Where do you think it all went wrong?’

 

The old chap needs little encouragement. ‘Well, it was after we lost the World Cup weren’t it. The economy crashed, the government fell, and the Germans moved in. And now… we’re part of Germany!

 

 

Duck:   (Turns to Matt) ‘I knew it. It’s… a disaster, and absolute disaster.’

 

Old man:  ‘No it isn’t. The country has never been better. Everybody has well-paid jobs, BMW’s, Porches…  I get a good pension, and beer’s only £1 a litre!’

 

Matt and Duck look at each other with pleasant surprise. Spoof comments on how much better the beer tastes.

 

Matt:    ‘But we never won the World Cup.’

 

Old Man:   ‘Of course we did. We got a German coach in 1970 and won it four times since. Have you lost your memory? I thought that were my trouble.’

 

Spoof:      ‘Er..  hadn’t we better be going back now lads?’

 

Matt and Duck: (To each other) ‘Let’s have another beer and think about it.  Waiter!’

 

Waiter (Celebrity Cameo):     ‘Coming right up lads!’

END