O'wango

In Front Of The Whitehall
 
Victoria hits Philip’s car and a loud bang startles him.  He looks out of his window and sees a bicycle lying on the ground.
 
Philip: “Oh God!”
 
Philip gets out of his car and sees Victoria lying on the ground.  He goes to help her but she bats him away. 
 
Philip:“Oh God, I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry.  Are you alright?”
 
Victoria: “[getting to her feet]  What’s the matter with you?  Don’t you know it’s mirror, signal, THEN manoeuvre.”
 
A crowd has started to gather around the accident.
 
Philip: “I’m so sorry but you just came out of nowhere.  I couldn’t…”
 
Victoria:[interrupting, furious] “Came out of nowhere?  Came out of nowhere?”
 
Philip: “Yes, but…”
 
Victoria punches him squarely in the face.  Philip stumbles backwards against his car.  The spectators gasp.  One of them takes a photo and looks very pleased with themselves.
 
Victoria: “Cyclists DO NOT come out of nowhere!  We are just as much there as you morons in tin cans are!”
 
Victoria huffily pulls her bike up, gets on it and rides away.  Philip is left stunned and smarting.

Modern Flat In a Trendy Part of London, That Evening.
 
Victoria is in the modern and stylish bedroom, applying ointment to her hand which is sore from punching Philip.  She is talking to her boyfriend, who is elsewhere in the flat.
 
Victoria: “Honestly, this guy was such a wanker.  He was all like [affecting a posh accent] ‘Oh, erm, so sorry, gosh, but you came out of nowhere.’  [back to normal voice] No I didn’t!  I was right there all the time!”
 
She leaves the bedroom and walks through the flat to where her boyfriend is.
 
Davis: “How’s the hand?”
 
Victoria: “Honestly, did he think that I was invisible?  That I just threw off my magic cloak and Boom!, there I was again?”
 
Davis is sat in the modern and stylish living room, reading a free London paper.  Victoria plops down beside him.
 
Victoria: “And it’s sore, thank you for asking.”
 
Davis kisses her sore hand tenderly.
 
Davis:“Any better?”
 
Victoria: “Not really.  Have another go.”
 
Davis:  “Cheeky!”
 
Victoria cuddles up to him.
 
Victoria: “You should’ve seen him in his big flash car.  Who does he think he is?  Couldn’t you do something about it for me, darling?”
 
Davis:“Like what?”
 
Victoria: [dreamily] “I don’t know; track him down, give him a stern talking to and a little bit of a beating for good measure.”
 
Davis laughs.
 
Victoria: “Ooh, I know!  You could talk to your boss.  He’s an MP, isn’t he?  Couldn’t he ban this guy from driving or something?”
 
Davis laughs again.
 
Victoria: “What’s so funny?”
 
Davis:“MPs don’t have the power to ban people doing stuff.”
 
Victoria: [sulkily] “Really?  I thought that was the whole point of MPs.”

Modern Flat In a Trendy Part of London, That Evening.
 
Victoria is in the modern and stylish bedroom, applying ointment to her hand which is sore from punching Philip.  She is talking to her boyfriend, who is elsewhere in the flat.
 
Victoria: “Honestly, this guy was such a wanker.  He was all like [affecting a posh accent] ‘Oh, erm, so sorry, gosh, but you came out of nowhere.’  [back to normal voice] No I didn’t!  I was right there all the time!”
 
She leaves the bedroom and walks through the flat to where her boyfriend is.
 
Davis: “How’s the hand?”
 
Victoria: “Honestly, did he think that I was invisible?  That I just threw off my magic cloak and Boom!, there I was again?”
 
Davis is sat in the modern and stylish living room, reading a free London paper.  Victoria plops down beside him.
 
Victoria: “And it’s sore, thank you for asking.”
 
Davis kisses her sore hand tenderly.
 
Davis:“Any better?”
 
Victoria: “Not really.  Have another go.”
 
Davis:  “Cheeky!”
 
Victoria cuddles up to him.
 
Victoria: “You should’ve seen him in his big flash car.  Who does he think he is?  Couldn’t you do something about it for me, darling?”
 
Davis:“Like what?”
 
Victoria: [dreamily] “I don’t know; track him down, give him a stern talking to and a little bit of a beating for good measure.”
 
Davislaughs.
 
Victoria: “Ooh, I know!  You could talk to your boss.  He’s an MP, isn’t he?  Couldn’t he ban this guy from driving or something?”
 
Davislaughs again.
 
Victoria: “What’s so funny?”
 
Davis:“MPs don’t have the power to ban people doing stuff.”
 
Victoria: [sulkily] “Really?  I thought that was the whole point of MPs.”
 
Philip’s Home, Kent Countryside, Later That Night
 
Philip’s wife Miriam is tending his wounds in their cluttered bathroom.
 
Philip: “Ow!”
 
Miriam: “Such a baby.  Come on now.”
 
Philip tries to hold as still as possible while Miriam applies surgical spirit to a cut on his face.
 
Philip: “Ah!”
 
Miriam: “If all they did was punch you, I can’t imagine how you got these cuts.”
 
Philip: “It must have been from her ring or something.”
 
Miriam: “She?  It was a girl?”
 
Philip: “Yes?”
 
Miriam: “Respect!  Good on her for standing up to a man.”
 
Philip: “Thanks, Miriam.  Your support means a lot.”
 
Miriam: “For too long in this society, women have been oppressed by the fear of lashing out, lest the biologically stronger men inflict a worse punishment on them, whether it’s deserved or not.  I could write an essay short on this; looking at the gender implications, historical impact…  It’s fascinating stuff.”
 
Philip: “Well, I am delighted for you, darling.  I am so pleased that my misfortune could earn you so much academic credence.”
 
Philip walks huffily out of the bathroom.
 
Miriam: “It wouldn’t mean anything unless there was some press surrounding it; something I could springboard from.”
 
Having put the surgical spirit away, Miriam follows Philip to their bedroom.
 
Miriam: “Did anyone see the incident?  Any photographers about when it happened?”
 
Philip: “Not that I saw.  Just a couple of very amused tourists.”
 
Miriam: “Perhaps it’s for the best.  My article can wait ‘til next time.  Can’t have the new transport minister causing scandal on his first day.”

Philip’s Office, Houses of Parliament, the Next Morning
 
A newspaper lands on Philip’sdesk.  The headline reads NEW TRANSPORT GUY TAKES ONE IN THE EYE.  There is a vivid photo of Victoria punching him in the face.  Philip reads the article inside.  His cuts and bruises from the night before appear reduced.  He looks up at Katie, who evidently handed him the paper.
 
Philip: “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
 
Katie: “Yes, sir.”
 
Philip groans and puts his head on the desk, wondering what will happen next for him.

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