MR TASKS: Ah, you’ve returned. Are we sure they’ve seen enough advertisements?
GRIZ: Yes, we’ve precisely calculated the length of commercial promotion that provides the greatest return on investment.
MR TASKS: We are sure they could have sat through seven or eight more – but if we must press on, we must. We’ve seen our contestants communicate with you efficiently and depict us magnificently. What other challenges have we set them?
GRIZ: I’m sure they’ll have some ‘tales’ to tell about this next task, because it’s a ‘curly’ one! (she squints at her clipboard) Oh, I get it – because of the pig.
(On the screen, the Taskmaster Manor’s courtyard is seen – a handsome space paved in sandstone, enclosed on three sides and encircled by optimistic flower beds. A pig happily eats from a pail of mushrooms.)
THE CIVET: Miss Smith? Are you out here?
(The Civet stops dead at the sight of the pig. The pig looks at the Civet. The Civet looks at the pig.)
THE CIVET: That’s a pig.
GRIZ: Civet, this is Sally.
(The Civet plucks the task from the pail and opens it cautiously.)
GRACE: ‘Make this pig sleepy. Most somnolent pig wins. You have twenty minutes. Your time starts now.’ No problem. I know how to put a pig to sleep.
SALLY: Rheek!
(In the studio, Mr Tasks turns its attention to Grace.)
MR TASKS: You seem very sure of yourself. I’m only going to ask you this once: did you believe we were asking you to kill that pig? Because you will not be getting any points if you killed that pig.
GRACE: Nah. I know pigs.
MR TASKS: Do you indeed. Well, who shall we see induce slumber in Sally first?
GRIZ: Let’s see His Amused Lordship first – and the Notorious Civet.
(On the screen, His Amused Lordship can be seen through the open French doors, returning from the kitchen.)
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Let’s start with some of this, eh, Sally?
(He uncorks a bottle of stout and offers its mouth to the pig, who begins happily guzzling.)
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Just the thing to make a swine snooze! Finished that one, girl? Want some more?
(He produces another bottle, takes a swig and then lets Sally drink the rest)
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Not a bad drop, this Sweetmeat’s Doubly Particular, eh? (he begins to hum) If you were to ask a piglet / is Sweetbread’s good for sleep? / how grand to be a big pet / just fall down in a – helloa, finished that one too? Feelin’ sleepy at all?
SALLY: Runk.
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Might need something stronger, what? Let’s see what we can find…
(The Civet stands behind a silvery shrub, packing something into a long, hollow reed.)
GRIZ: Are you alright back there?
(the Civet places a finger to their lips)
THE CIVET: Please stand well back, Miss Smith. This compound may be very fast-acting.
(they lift the reed and blow, propelling a dart squarely into Sally’s flank)
SALLY: Oik.
(Nothing happens, and continues for quite some time.)
GRIZ: Was this what you expected to happen?
THE CIVET: I gave her as large a dose as I dared – she should be unconscious within a few more moments.
(His Amused Lordship returns to the courtyard, pushing a rattling trolley laden with bottles.)
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Found a few likely candidates! Let’s see… (he sniffs a bottle of port) Smells potent enough. What do you think, old girl?
SALLY: (grunts)
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: ‘In the height of her pride and wanton braverie, she began to debase the expence and provision of all his costly fare.’ Pearls before swine, eh?
(He pours the wine into her pail. The pig laps at it for some minutes, and then, with a great wobbling and shuffling, lays her head upon his boot and unleashes a series of fermented snores. Griz gives her a firm poke with her foot.)
GRIZ: I’m stopping the clock. Well done, your Lordship.
(The Civet watches Sally snuffle around the courtyard. She investigates the possibilities of a flower bed, nudges Griz’s feet in the hope that she might have a biscuit, and finally lays her head upon the flagstones and has a nap.)
THE CIVET: I don’t know why that took so long to work.
GRIZ: I think she just got bored.
THE CIVET: I’ll be in my room. (they stalk out)
GRIZ: You have a room?
(In the studio, the Civet has their head in their hands.)
MR TASKS: Your attempt to drug Sally appears to have failed.
THE CIVET: It should have worked!
GRIZ: We can’t confirm that. It is possible that it should not have worked.
THE CIVET: There was no reason for it not to work!
MR TASKS: His Amused Lordship’s plan, by contrast, appeared to work quite well.
GRIZ: After drinking approximately one hundred ounces of potent refreshments, Sally slept for six hours, then woke up in a state that her handlers described as ‘hungry and irritable’.
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: Hope you had a jolly big pill to give her for the headache! (he guffaws, slapping both his knees, sequentially and then at once)
MR TASKS: How much sleep did the Civet’s alleged tranquilliser produce?
GRIZ: Sally slept for twenty minutes after the Civet left – a light sleep, marked by frequent, quiet vocalisations.
COLONEL MOLLY: Aw, she talks in her sleep?
GRIZ: She talks in her sleep, basically, yes.
MR TASKS: Let us hope the other contestants fared rather better in their attempts.
GRIZ: They may have; let’s see how Grace and Colonel Molly dealt with Sally.
(On the screen, the downstairs parlour. A fire burns cheerily in the hearth – the chief source of illumination, as the lamps have been dimmed. Grace appears, leading Sally through the house.)
GRACE: Come on, girl. Soo-ie! Here we are.
(She pats a pile of cushions in front of the fire. Sally flops onto them with a happy little grunt.)
SALLY: Unk. (She closes her eyes and is soon breathing deeply and evenly.)
COLONEL MOLLY: Wot makes people sleep? Um… ‘alf a mo.
(She runs into the house and returns with a stool, which she places next to the pig and sits upon.)
COLONEL MOLLY: Once upon a time, there was a very brave soldier. She was strong enough to lift the cannon all on her own, and smart enough to keep all the little ones safe…
(Sally settles down at her feet and listens happily.)
COLONEL MOLLY: An’ she rode everywhere on her battle pig, who had great big tusks and a suit of armour wif spikes all over. An’ they had to leave the Flit to win a golden head, ‘cos Sllivvy said the Thunder said a great c’lamity would come if an unworvy champion claimed it, wiv agony in stony places, shoutin’ and cryin’ in the prison and palace… (she peeks down at Sally) I fink she’s asleep.
(Griz leans down and gently pushes the pig’s side.)
GRIZ: Well done, Molly.
COLONEL MOLLY: Fanks. (she creeps away with exaggerated care, peeking back to admire her handiwork before she leaves)
(In the studio, Mr Tasks clutches the Commissioner’s arm.)
MR TASKS: We were not informed of the soporific qualities of stories. Were you aware of this?
GRIZ: It is a traditional method of putting children to bed, but I’d never seen it applied to pigs…
MR TASKS: We should have been studying this already! If Pages learns of this, we shall never hear the end of it… do human infants have other qualities in common with pigs
GRIZ: (making a face) Yes, many.
MR TASKS: We shall have to secure a quantity for experimentation. How effective was this method?
GRIZ: After Colonel Molly’s story, Sally slept for seven hours, or four hundred and twenty minutes, or two hundred and eighty moments – assuming uniform moments of equal length.
MR TASKS: Very impressive. And Grace’s provision of a soft bed in a warm room?
GRIZ: Grace induced Sally to sleep for nine and a half hours, after which she woke up in, I am informed, ‘an unusually placid and jovial mood’.
(Several voices overlap in surprise. Grace leans back in her chair with an air of almost intolerable self-satisfaction.)
GRACE: Told you, didn’t I? I know pigs.
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: You do know pigs!
THE CIVET: How do you know pigs so well?
GRACE: Girl’s got to have her secrets!
MR TASKS: She most certainly does not. Commissioner, please make a note of that. Now… we have one contestant left to see, and he’s been very quiet.
(The Manager quirks an eyebrow.)
MR TASKS: You’re an unrevealing fellow. It is vexatious.
GRIZ: Let’s see whether that’s the satisfied silence of success or the hush of humiliation; here’s the Manager’s attempt.
(On the screen, the Manager is seen carrying a standing mirror into the courtyard.)
GRIZ: Is that from my dressing room?
THE MANAGER: The crew said I could borrow it.
(Griz enters into whispered interrogation of a production assistant while the Manager erects the mirror in front of Sally and strokes its polished surface. Images swirl within; sunlit forests, sparkling streams, fresh black truffles, and clusters of happy piglets.)
THE MANAGER: Look upon the dreams of pigs, and let them take you away.
SALLY: Roik. (she sniffs the mirror briefly, then walks to the other side of the courtyard and investigates a discarded apple core)
THE MANAGER: Hm. Lady Griselda, could you help me move the mirror to a more opportune angle?
GRIZ: I could not.
THE MANAGER: Ah. Then, perhaps… (he attempts to corral the pig, who becomes agitated as he blocks her access to what remains of the apple)
GRIZ: (holding up her watch) Ninety seconds remain.
THE MANAGER: Always have a contingency plan. (he lifts up his cane and brings it down on Sally’s head)
SALLY: HEEEEEEEEEEK.
(She charges into the Manager, knocking him into a barberry bush, then disappears through the French windows. A great crashing is heard as she stampedes through the house, pursued by several members of the crew.)
GRIZ: Oh, dear. (she flicks her watch) That’s your time up, I’m afraid.
(In the studio, everyone is shouting.)
COLONEL MOLLY: Don’t hit Sally!
GRACE: How could you?!
HIS AMUSED LORDSHIP: What if you’d killed the poor beast?
THE CIVET: You need to swing side-to-side for a knockout blow, not top-to-bottom.
(The Manager pulls at his hat as if trying to climb up inside it)
THE MANAGER: When you lose control of the situation… the panic …
MR TASKS: Perhaps it’s not as bad as it looks. Did he put the pig to sleep in any way?
GRIZ: It’s precisely as bad as it looks; Sally was considerably more alert and active after his attempt than before, and slept 60% less than usual in the days that followed.
MR TASKS: Well then. The question of scoring. Grace was, in your estimation, the winner, yes?
GRIZ: Going by duration and depth of sleep, yes, Grace must take the five points, and Colonel Molly the four.
MR TASKS: His Amused Lordship gets three points. The Civet gets two, and they can thank us for them.
(The Civet looks disinclined to thank anyone.)
MR TASKS: Now, the question of whether the Manager’s effort is even deserving of a point.
GRIZ: One could argue that he failed to complete the task at all.
MR TASKS: One could. He is disqualified; no points will be awarded.
(The Manager crosses his arms, his brow stormy and his buttons gleaming alarmingly.)
GRIZ: After that round, His Amused Lordship and the Notorious Civet are neck-and-neck on 14 points, but it’s still anyone’s game – all of our contestants have victory within their reach!
MR TASKS: With that, it’s time to make your way to the stage for the final task of the show!
