Basil: Good morning Madam. Can I help you?

Mrs Richards: Are you the manager?

Basil: I am the owner, Madam.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I am the owner.

Mrs Richards: I want to speak to the manager.

Basil: I am the manager too.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I am the manager as well.

Manuel: Mana(h)er, him mana(h)er!

Basil: Shut up!

Mrs Richards: Oh…! You’re What!

Basil: …. I’m the manager.

Mrs Richards: Watt?

Basil: I’m … the … manager.

Mrs Richards: Yes, I know, you’ve just told me, what’s the matter with you? Now listen to me. I’ve booked a room with a bath. When I book a room with a bath I expect to get a bath.

Basil: You’ve got a bath.

Mrs Richards: I’m not paying seven pounds twenty pence per night plus VAT for a room without a bath.

Basil: There is your bath.

Mrs Richards: You call that a bath? It’s not big enough to drown a mouse. It’s disgaceful.

Basil: (muttering) I wish you were a mouse, I’d show you.

Mrs Richards: And another thing – I asked for a room with a view.

Basil: (to himself) Deaf, mad and blind. This is the view as far as I can remember, madam. Yes, this is it.

Mrs Richards: When I pay for a view I expect something more interesting than that.

Basil: That is Torquay, Madam.

Mrs Richards: Well, it’s not good enough.

Basil: Well … may I ask what you were hoping to see out of a Torquay hotel bedroom window? Sydney Opera House perhaps? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Herds of wildebeeste sweeping majestically … ?

Mrs Richards: Don’t be silly. I expect to be able to see the sea.

Basil: You can see the sea. It’s over there between the land and the sky

Mrs Richards: I’d need a telescope to see that.

Basil: Well perhaps you should consider moving to a hotel closer to the sea. Or preferably in it.

Mrs Richards: Now listen to me; I’m not satisfied, but I have decided to stay here. However, I shall expect a reduction.

Basil: Why? Because Krakatoa’s not erupting at the moment?

Mrs Richards: Because the room is cold, the bath is too small, the view is invisible and the radio doesn’t work.

Basil: No, the radio works. You don’t.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I’ll see if I can fix it, you scabby old bat.

[He turns the radio on to the limit.]

Basil: I think we got something then!

Mrs Richards: What!

Basil: I think we got something then!

Mrs Richards: What are you doing?

Manuel: Qué?

Basil: Madam, ….. don’t think me rude, but may I ask …. do you by chance have a hearing aid?

Mrs Richards: A what?

Basil: A hearing aid!!!

Mrs Richards: Yes, I do have a hearing aid.

Basil: Would you like me to get it mended?

Mrs Richards: Mended? It’s working perfectly all right.

Basil: No, it isn’t.

Mrs Richards: I haven’t got it turned on at the moment.

Basil: Why not?

Mrs Richards: The battery runs down. Now what sort of reduction are you going to give me on this room?

Basil: (whispering) sixty per cent if you turn that on.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: My wife handles all such matters, I’m sure she will be delighted to discuss it with you.

Mrs Richards: I shall speak to her after lunch.

Basil: You heard that all right, didn’t you.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: Thank you so much. Lunch will be served at half past twelve. … Manuel Manuel!