The inside of the small seedy club has a small stage and a small bar. The room is dark, smokey and is full of dry ice vapour- as a prelude to the arrival of an artiste. The music starts up- it is a striptease song. The five tourists receive a round of five Stella's and a bill for 20 Francs which is passed around the table by the tighter members of the group- Titch- Pat until it ends up in front of Des Res who always gets stuck with the bill.
Ruth Jones is once again dressed as the stripper only this time is younger and is dressed in a ginger wig.
The five excited males start clapping with Perrier so excited that gets up on his chair and does his own version of 'Pole Dancing'. It is obvious he is aroused as his Welsh Leek emblazoned underpants begin to swell.
Mario feels uneasy- being in a rough bar in a Foreign Country containing a sleazy stripper. He looks around him and notices that the ice mist is starting to lift revealing that the other men present in the bar were wearing white vest tops, leather hats and were sporting 'Freddie Mercury style moustaches'. Mario nudges Des and Titch to alert them to the fact- but they appear to somehow know already.
On the stage , stripper Ruth Jones beckons to Pat to move closer to the stage - in his excitement he doesn't notice the stage name Rusty Rocket. Pat carefully selects the lowest denomination note from his money belt and places the note with Napoleon's head on it into his mouth. He moves forward to the stage and places the note in the ginger collection box being the knicker line of the stripper.
Perrier gulps with anticipation - bringing a lump to his throat.
Pat has his own unexpected lump to contend with. He has an eyeful of a different Paris Tower.
Pat screams: 'He's a Transister!' Outing the hermaphrodite.
Pat the traumatised paper boy shrieks...'It's got a nob!'
Perrier goes limp and jumps down from the chair trying to cover his embarrassment with his Sweater shop jumper. In the background, further shapes reappear from the mist- an Indian Chief, a telephone engineer and a cowboy-
Mario screams: 'We are in the YMCA !'
Des and Titch collapse on the floor with laughter as the big joke they have played on their 'back row' has worked a treat. The Madame sidles up to Titch and demands a small service charge for her part in his friend’s humiliation. This time the Madame reverts to her native thick Welsh accent.
He puts away his camera phone video for future evidence and pays the Madame.
Madame Fifi La Foo: 'For five Francs more- you can kiss me where it smells!"
Titch ( Rob Brydon) : "I am not taking you back to Port Talbot luv...besides you are no oil painting ( looking around at the entrance filed with French brothel type paintings) I don't Chagall I'd have to be in Seine to go on a two louse la trek with you!"
She doesn't take offence and chuckles like she has been in a wedding with distant relatives. The gang head off for the Moulin Rouge. Perrier keeps asking anyone around the way to a place called the Red Windmill.
The five are sat around a table watching the show at the Internationally renowned cat house. There are colourful female dancers in a line high kicking to a can- can on a stage. The boys too soon become can-can boys as the beer flows. The Estate agent becomes entranced by a dark haired caged dancer who seems to be staring at him.
Des Res: 'I am sure that's' Hollywood actress Demi Moore...she's been looking at me all night!'
Pat: 'Don't talk to me about cat houses....( sobbing in drink) I'll never be able to stroke a ginger pussy again after tonight....my pet kitty will have to go when I get home!'
Titch: 'Speaking of kitty...drink up you lot , I'm thirsty!'
The beer continued to flow - the boys were treated to some aerial entertainment. Mario was busy looking up to the heavens intrigued by his own Virgin flight of fantasy as two pensioners dressed as rodents were copulating intermittently on trapeze above their heads.
Perrier: 'I knew Disneyland Paris wasn't as good as the Florida version but surely that's taking the Mickey out of us tourists!"
Eventually, the five professional alcoholics decided to head home for a night in Le Fleapit. Back home in their hotel room after a short walk , the Welshmen were tucked up in bed.
With the sun shining through the holes in the room Titch awoke first. Des Res was snoring loudly with the tiles on the roof sliding back and fore with the vibration threatening to turn the Hotel into a five star one. He let out a belch that Barney from the Simpsons would have been proud of and the resulting alcohol cloud like an Iceland volcano woke the Estate Agent from his slumber.
Titch: 'See he is always up before me in the morning tickling me under the chin!' he boasted doing his own stand up routine.
Des Res: ' Don't remind Pat about last night!'
Pat: ''You bastards...you knew what you were doing ...I have had nightmares all night!' He said reaching into the mini-bar for a hair of the dog....knowing the room was booked on Des Res credit card....'I'll find a way of making you pay for that one!'
The ribbing of Pat was merciless .
Mario: ' Did your dream involve you nearly eating the 'lunch pack of Notre Dame?' " teased the chip shop owner.
He received a pillow missile for his comment. The Centuries old unwritten Welsh male oath of 'no tales on tour' was adopted.
Perrier : 'what did you think of the sword swallowing act last night?'
He fared worse than Mario as the French Gideon bible bounced off his coiffured bounce. Des was oblivious to events he was busy recalling a vision of a bikini clad Demi Moore dancing in a cage beckoning him towards her.
Des Res: ' I wonder if she was doing some research for Showgirls 2 ?'
Pat: ' You are not going on about Demi Moore are you?...it wasn't her...why would an Hollywood A- Lister be dancing in a cage and staring at someone as ugly as you?
Des Res: ' I'll have you know that I was mistaken once for her ex-husband Bruce Willis in the Charles De Gaulle airport....it was during the Algerian crisis...!'
Des Res: 'It's true ....a tourist asked me to sign an autograph!'
Titch: ' You were the only one talking bollocks last night!'
Pat reached for a shoe and threw it at Titch. He ducked and it hit Perrier square in the quiff. He dived over Titch to scrap the newspaper hound .
Perrier: 'Lets see who will die hard now!'
The pair grappled on the floor playfully until they both gave in to the exertion.
Return to the Spice Mobile. With Titch driving as usual, there was a reshuffle with Des Res being relegated to the back row and Pat and Perrier separated like two squabbling schoolchildren. Titch had donned his yellow jersey and cycle helmet for the mountain stages of the Tour De France. The mini speeds away South with Titch driving like a Playstation driver at speeds that look even faster in kilometres as he tries to make up for lost time. Here, the song motorcycle emptiness by the manics could be played. They reach the Alps and restock their own mini- bar with beer at St Berrnard in the Alpen Springs and clean water and breadsticks are taken on. The roof of the mini now is clad in breadsticks, daffodils and leeks.
Pat: 'We look like the Hovis Expeditionary ski force!'
After a further hour driving till the dark descends , they then decide to park up in a makeshift lay-by high up in the Alps. They decide to leave the car radio on over night to drown out Des Res snoring and ensure that as they are in an Avalanche zone the sound is consistent. Owen Money is busy on his BBC Wales radio show playing songs which send them gently to sleep. Titch awakes from his slumber with the first Rays of the sun on his windscreen. He comes around to an announcement on the Radio.
" Rover- the manufacturers of the Mini have decided to recall all models following a discovery that they may be technical problems with the handbrakes"
Looking down at the 1000 foot drop into Italy six inches from the mini Titch agreed. He looked at the sleeping Welsh tourists and considered saving himself.
Titch: 'It's a self- preservation society!' (cue music from film- the Italian Job- as he opens the door – which stops abruptly once he closes it again)
Titch tried to reason as to what had happened overnight. He suspected that the violent snoring of Des Res coupled with the dodgy handbrake had led to the little car becoming perched precariously with its boot hanging over the edge of the Mountain Pass. He decided to wait until the others woke naturally in the back so as not to panic the other occupants into a fatal mistake.
Pat was the next to wake and the look on Titch's face in the rear view mirror was enough for him to realise the odds on him surviving were slim. The newspaper hound saw his life passing before him in twirling Merthyr Depress newspaper headlines:-
'Downhill all the way for Rugby Fans on the Piste'
'Des-aster as Estate Agency crash hits peak'
'Perrier Springs Eternally'
The sound of a Welsh ringtone alarm nearly proved fatal, as four of the car occupants fumbled for their mobiles to the tune of 'A design for life' by the Manic Street Preachers. The fifth largest and oldest tourist , Des Res slumbered on blissfully unaware of the 'gravity' of the situation.
Titch: 'We need to lighten the load in the back!' (Whispering to the still, white Perrier).
One by one the 'refilled' beer bottles were 'passed' into the front seat to Titch who due to his dt's spilled most of them on Pat before pouring them on an unsuspecting French Shepherd in the Valley below.
French Shepherd Moutton Rouge: "Ello...Ello...it is peezing down again!' He said looking up at the golden stream of rain.
A text message appeared on Titch’s phone. It was a dragon symbol ( indicating it was his wife) ....it read...'How R U ....U no answer...RU OK?'
Titch: 'I knew she would push me over the edge one day!'
Titch's wife is sat with her mobile in her hand in her curlers reading the horoscope in the paper. Her psychic nose won't stop twitching.
She has intermittent images of Sue Barker and Princess Grace - which can only be interpreted as connected with Cliffs. She has a bad feeling something is deeply wrong with her husbands trip and doesn't want her marriage to be on the rocks. As she is always on the phone , when she rings direct enquiries they recognise her voice and know her personally.
Lynne Hatchey: 'Alpen Headquarters, please send help!'
The boys are wide awake and have to try and extricate themselves from their quandary. Des Res is still snoring unaware of the predicament- the boys are too frightened to wake him as he is a bit of a drama queen.
Titch: "You're still too heavy in the back!....you must get rid of some more weight!'(whispered)
Mario: "But how?" ....you've had all p*ss bottles, the last of the food, even our shoes and Perriers box of ribbed condoms...., we've given you all the heavy items...there is nothing left in the back!"
Titch: 'It's the 'Gold' beer in the boot....it's weighing us down!'
Titch: 'Eureka!' He said moving Des feet from the head rest - with the Estate Agent slowly coming around.
Titch: 'Pat - reach in the back and see if you can reach Des' wallet ...it must weigh a tonne ...you never see a poor Estate agent do you?"
The sight of Pat taking money from his wallet really shouldn't have bothered Des after all these years of round-dodging but it was the directness of it this time. Still half- cut and the sight of a hairy hand reaching into his heart pocket in the French Alps was too 'Gaulling' even for the mild mannered Des Res. Some primeval fear was awakened in him- and he uttered one audible word:-
Des Res: Darlo...
He struck out with his fist and punched Pat so hard sending him backwards in doing so jamming his behind in the steering column. He then returned to his snoring unaware of the drama unfolding around him. The resultant wedgie that Pat received for his efforts stabilised the car but sent the 'gold' label beer in the boot further backwards and the jolt sent open the spring on the car boot mechanism. Pat was now disabled , Titch was shaking with the DT's and fear. Mario was unable to move, as he was wedged tighter than one of Titch's home made roll up fags. Titch reached inside his pocket and took out his old faithful tin of tobacco. He always felt more relaxed when he rolled his own.
He cleared his head. How would his Welsh Rugby heroes get out of this tight spot? He tried to think back to his days as a boot-boy at the Arms Park. Not as an apprentice but as a hooligan. He decided to hum internationally to raise the spirits in the car. The rugby songs did the trick, as the car rocked to the tune of Bread of Heaven. The boys were convinced that God was Welsh so they prepared to meet their maker in style.
Titch: 'Barry John- into your hands I commend my spirit!'
As the car was just about to tip over the edge- from the Alpen mists appeared a giant St Bernard dog which bounded onto the bonnet of the car stoping its descent to the Valley floor below. Reaching out of the window Titch grabbed the brandy cask from around the dogs collar and helped himself to some of the St Bruno and smoked and drank deeply.
Titch: 'I'd like to share with you boys...but this is an emergency!'
Titch: 'L'eau de chien !' He spluttered spitting out the spring water like it was Albright.
With Bread of Heaven still ringing in his ears, he was divinely inspired to grab a hardened breadstick of the roof of the car as a pool cue and potted the 'gold' pool style through the rear seat flap and gold beer out of the back of the car into the deep blue yonder - causing an avalanche in the Italian village below never before seen. The mini having lost its ballast - righted itself with a bump which woke the startled Des Res suddenly.
Des Res: 'Morning Boys!' He said trying to stretch in the confined space.
'I had a lovely dream about Wales - some girls with the voices of angels were singing 'Bread of Heaven' ( cue Charlotte Church and Katherine Jenkins) - pointing at the St Bernard drooling on the windscreen.
Des Res: 'When did we acquire the nodding dog?'
Des looked around at his companions and knew something was up.
Des Res : 'What's up ....I missed something right...I've never seen Pat sweating so much since he nearly bought a round at the Millenium Stadium!'
Titch managed to drive forward with Pat lodged in the steering wheel and a two tonne dog on the bonnet to safer ground. Only then did they tell Des Res what happened. The only way to get the hysterical Estate Agent to stop shaking was to make him drive the car.
Titch: 'But you will have to drive...my Taff-ograph....says I have used up my allowed hours....and as you are the only one who is able to drive as the others are now in continent!'
Des would only drive on one condition that he could play his Max Boyce CD 'Live at Treorchy '.
He tried to convince his fellow occupants that they were lucky to be alive- and that it was another sign that the Welsh were God's chosen people.
Des Res: ' see Dog is God backwards...you were singing Bread of Heaven....the dog was carrying Spring water....it all adds up...we are bound to win in Rome boys...we are 'divinely inspired!'
He put pedal to the metal, as he screeched around those high hairpin bends above the Mountain passes, as Max Speed met Max Boyce. The boys in the back wished they 'all had Doctors papers' to avoid the butt- clenching journey. Des Res was determined to hang onto his 'yellow jersey' as he drove with the motto of the Welsh Front Row stuck in his head as lorry drivers tried to overtake him.
Des Res: 'Thou shalt not pass!'
Des Res looked in the rear view mirror and liked what he saw- not just his bronzed tanned face, and neatly trimmed 'Pepe Di Marco' goatee but the other great love of his life- behind him was a red Porsche Carrera with a flashy female driver with a body and face to die for.
Cut to the chase.
The mini is being pursued by a red Porsche on a straight road into Northern Italy. The driver of the mini car is Des Res and the Porsche Demi Moore. The car is tailgating the mini trying to get them to pull over so it can pass. Des Res flashes a smile at the female driver- which is reciprocated by perfect Hollywood veneers.
Des Res: ' Now that is what Chris de Burgh was singing about- that really is a 'Lady in Red'
The Porsche pulls alongside the mini on the right side of the road and Des Res and Demi lock stares- like a mutual attraction of flirting- They both accelerate to 150 kph with the mini initially in front.
Des Res (gleefully) : Outstripping the stripper!'
Des then checks the rear view mirror- the Porsche is gone- it is now in front of him. He suddenly realises there is a man in the passenger seat with her. It is the real Bruce Willis. He points at Des Res as the cars race at speed and signals that it is like looking in the mirror- like he is his doppelgänger.
Mario: 'Des ...I don't want to spoil your big moment but we drive on the RIGHT in Europe!'
The two cars almost crash as they round the bend to see a road block of cars up ahead. Des Res and Demi Moore stand on the brakes to avoid a collision.
Pat : ' It's CARmaggedon!'
There are skid marks on the road and worse ones in the back seat of the mini. The red Porsche zigzags through the fleet of black sedans blocking the road and away into the sunset. Des Res is furious that the love of his life has disappeared again. He gets out of the car and rages at the dark suited Mafia men on the hillside and road.
Des Res : ' What ...do you think you own this road?'
Perrier: ' Who are those people with the dark glasses and violin cases?'
Pat: ' I think it's a safe bet that they aren't The Blues Brothers!'
Mario: ' They are the Cosa Nostra ...and the DO own this particular road!'
Titch: 'Let me out of the car...will you...they are looking for me!'
Titch gets out of the car and walks around the back and produces a long thin packet from the fake exhaust. Instinctively, the Mobsters raise their weapons and train them on Titch and the purple incandescent Des. Des is raging like Basil Fawlty.
Titch: 'Let me negotiate this deal Des....I am gonna make them an offer they can't refuse!'
He swigs the brandy cask and pretends to be Marlon Brando. Titch has a small scar on his face from a playground fight as a kid. He comes up 'spaghetti western' style face to face with their leader who has a much bigger knife scar on his cheek. After an initial Mexican stand off, Titch whispers that he is with Mario Pizza originally from Bardi. Mario on leaving the car is welcomed by his third generational countrymen as the Godfather meets the Codfather and the first of many Italian Lobs is complete. A bag of unmarked bills is handed over in exchange for the vacuum cleaner blueprint.
The mini is allowed to pass and the car moves on silently passed monasteries until it reaches a border control check point and toll booth.
Stuck in a queue is the red Porsche containing the two Hollywood A- Listers. There is only one guard on duty for two booths as his mate has gone on a toilet break. He has to cover both lanes.
The Italian official looks at the Porsche containing Bruce Willis and the Mini containing Des Res...he takes both passports in at the same time to scan them and drops them on the floor mixing them up. As they look identical he hands the wrong ones back.
Italian Border Guard: ' You are not planning on 'moonlighting with any Shepherds Mr Willis are you?'
He is talking to Des Res by mistake - who just nods at him as he is anxious to catch up with the accelerating Porsche.