This, I hope, is an accurate written rendition of the wonderful Christmas special. Miraculously, I am still not at all bored with it (although I believe my family are with a certain re-interpreted Christmas carol I haven't been able to stop singing since Chri-i-i-i-istmas Day). If anyone knows what the Russian in Mr. Alyakhin's conversation with Andre is, apart from 'spasiba', or spots any mistakes, do let me know. DOUGLAS: Air-con? MARTIN: Off. DOUGLAS: Anti-collision light? MARTIN: On. DOUGLAS: Fuel pump switches? MARTIN: On. DOUGLAS: Dasher? MARTIN: On. DOUGLAS: Dancer? MARTIN: On. DOUGLAS: Prancer and Vixen? MARTIN: On. Comet? DOUGLAS: On. MARTIN: Cupid? DOUGLAS: On. MARTIN: Donner and Blitzen? DOUGLAS: To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! MARTIN: Dash away! DOUGLAS and MARTIN: Dash away! Dash away all! OPENING CREDITS - This Christmas, Molokai! OCEANIC ATC: Thank you, Golf Tango India. Continue as cleared. DOUGLAS: Golf Tango India, continue as cleared. Thank you, Oceanic, and merry Christmas. OCEANIC ATC: I’m a Shinto Buddhist. DOUGLAS: And may you be a merry one. (There is a distinctly Arthurian trumpeting sound.) Ah, Arthur’s awoken. Brace yourself. MARTIN: What for? DOUGLAS: Oh, is this the first time you’ve flown with Arthur on Christmas morning? (Flight deck door opens.) ARTHUR: ♪Get dressed, you merry gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay! For it is Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!♪ DOUGLAS: Yes – ARTHUR: ♪It’s Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!♪ MARTIN: Arthur – ARTHUR: ♪It is Chri-i-i-i-istmas Day, Chri-istmas Day! It is Chri-i-i-i-ismas Day!♪ DOUGLAS: Are you finished? ARTHUR: Not necessarily! I know other verses. MARTIN: No, you don’t! You don’t even know that one. ARTHUR: With respect, Skip, I absolutely do know that one. It goes ♪Get dressed, you merry gentlemen -♪ MARTIN: No, no, it doesn’t. It’s not ‘get dressed’ – it’s ‘God rest’. God rest you merry gentlemen. ARTHUR: No, it’s not. MARTIN: Yes, it is! Why would you be telling them to get dressed? ARTHUR: Because it’s Christmas! MARTIN: What, so they’re naked? ARTHUR: No, they’re in bed! It’s saying ‘come on, you merry gentlemen – it’s Christmas! Up’n’at ‘em! Get dressed. Let’s do our stockings!’ MARTIN: No, it’s ‘God rest’. ARTHUR: Well, that makes no sense. God rest, you merry gentlemen? What’s a God rest? DOUGLAS: Somewhere to put your god? MARTIN: Not God rest you merry gentlemen. It’s God rest you, merry gentlemen! ARTHUR: Well, that makes no sense either! DOUGLAS: Actually, it’s neither. It’s God rest you merry, gentlemen. As in 'Happy Christmas, gentlemen. I hope God gives you a restful and merry one and doesn’t accidentally shut you in a flying cupboard with a pair of idiots'. ARTHUR: Oh, cheer up, Douglas! We’ll be back in Tokyo in no time, and then we’ve got the rest of Christmas off. What are you going to do? DOUGLAS: Go back to the hotel, bit of sleep, ring my daughter, and then go out and ingest a quite heroic quantity of festive sushi. ARTHUR: How about you, Skip? MARTIN: I don’t know. I’ll probably sit by the pool, read a book. ARTHUR: Oh, Skip! That’s not very Christmassy. MARTIN: Well, I’m not that big on Christmas. ARTHUR: Well, if you change your mind, you’re both welcome to join mum and me. We found this brilliant Japanese restaurant called The Auspicious Pig and Whistle Old England Style Happy Pub, and we’re having turkey and Christmas pudding and presents and carols and stockings and silly hats and mulled wine. DOUGLAS: All quite low key then, is it? (There is a bing-bong.) Oooh, ♪Bing-bong merrily on high! In heaven, the phone is ringing.♪ MARTIN: Hello? Captain Crieff. CAROLYN: Martin! Tokyo calling. Merry Christmas! Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men – even pilots. How was Hong Kong? MARTIN: Are you all right, Carolyn? CAROLYN: Perfectly, thank you, but, more importantly, are you all right? Sleep well? Nice and well rested, are you? DOUGLAS: Martin, don’t – MARTIN: Yes, thanks. I – DOUGLAS: It’s a trap! CAROLYN: Good! Now then, my festive fliers, you remember that friendly little chat we had about working at Christmas? DOUGLAS: No, I don’t. I remember an enormous argument, when you announced that you’d booked us to fly Japanese golfers back and forth all through Christmas week without asking us. CAROLYN: Well, I’m sorry, but Christmas wasn’t on the wall chart. DOUGLAS: Christmas was on the wall chart. It was written on the wall chart by the makers of the wall chart. And I remember us finally, very graciously, agreeing to do it, on the strict understanding that our last Hong Kong run would be on Christmas morning, and we’d be back in Tokyo with the rest of the day to ourselves by midday precisely. CAROLYN: Yes, well, I’d like to propose a very minor tweak to that arrangement, by which you can still get back into Tokyo at noon. MARTIN: Yes...? CAROLYN: And there you pick up me and a Russian yacht broker, and fly us on to Hawaii. MARTIN: Hawaii? CAROLYN: Hmm, the island of Molokai, to be precise, which Mr. Alyakhin either owns a beach resort on or quite possibly just owns – it’s not entirely clear. DOUGLAS: So you want us to spend another seven hours of Christmas Day in an aeroplane? CAROLYN: Look, this is in all our best interests. Mr. Alyakhin is a huge charter firm user, and if we can get on his list, then our ridiculous business (the survival of which is already as astonishing as when you go into a motorway service station and see they’ve still got a Wimpy) might just continue into the New Year. ARTHUR: But, but mum? What about our Christmas? At the Auspicious Pig and Whistle? With the turkey and pudding and stockings and a tree and mulled wine? CAROLYN: Yes, don’t worry - we’ll still do all that, but in sunny Hawaii. It’ll be exactly the same, but with less sake and more hula. ARTHUR: Okay. CAROLYN: Ooh, and Arthur? This is a very important client, so we’ll be giving him our very best customer service, okay? ARTHUR: Absolutely, mum! I’ll pull out all the stops. CAROLYN: Ah, no, no, no. Our very best customer service. ARTHUR: Oh, right. I’ll hide in the galley and let you do everything. CAROLYN: Good boy! DOUGLAS: Post ruddy take-off checks grudgingly completed, Captain. By a First Officer who should, by all natural laws, be just tucking in to his seventh hosomaki. MARTIN: Douglas, I’m sure they'll have sushi somewhere on Molokai. DOUGLAS: I’m sure they won’t. They’ll have Chicken Santa Burgers. And pretzels. ARTHUR: So, so twelve plus seven is nineteen, and nineteen o’clock is – don’t tell me! One o’clock is thirteen. Two o’clock is fourteen. Three o’clock is fifteen – MARTIN: Seven o’clock, Arthur. ARTHUR: Oh, okay, so we – we still get Christmas evening? DOUGLAS: Plus the five hour time difference. ARTHUR: Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve – oh. MARTIN: Sorry. ARTHUR: No, I – I don’t really mind. We’ll just have our Christmas on Boxing Day. That’s - that’ll be almost as good. Pretty much. Nearly as good. In some ways. Anyway, I’m not all that bothered about Christmas. I think it’s been over-commercialised. MARTIN: Do you? ARTHUR: Yes, I do. DOUGLAS: That’s an interesting opinion. ARTHUR: It’s one I’ve long held. DOUGLAS: What does ‘over-commercialised’ mean? ARTHUR: It means it’s too much, um, it’s over – it used to be under, but now it’s – I don’t know! Terry on the fire crew said it, and it sounded really grown up. But I love Christmas! It’s my equal favourite time of year with my birthday, summer, Easter, mum’s birthday and Lent. DOUGLAS: Oh, cheer up. It’ll be round again before you know it. ARTHUR: Yeah. Yeah, I know. Doesn’t really matter. ‘Scuse me, chaps. I’m just going to go sit in the galley for a bit. ♪You better not pout. You better not cry.♪ MARTIN: Douglas? DOUGLAS: Hmm? MARTIN: I was just thinking about poor old Arthur, missing out on his big Christmas, you know, his turkey, pudding, presents and silly hats and so on. DOUGLAS: Hmm. MARTIN: Well, well, I – I was just thinking, if we wanted, we could probably sort of do some of those things here, couldn’t we, in the flight deck? DOUGLAS: I thought you said you were glad to be missing Christmas? MARTIN: Oh, I am! No, completely, but for Arthur’s sake. DOUGLAS: And how do you propose to cook a turkey dinner at thirty-five thousand feet? MARTIN: I don’t know, but we’ll think of something, and the others seem quite doable. DOUGLAS: Of that list, as far as I can see, all we’ve got are hats. MARTIN: Yeah, and they’re not very silly ones. DOUGLAS: Yours is quite silly. MARTIN: I keep telling you! I didn’t ask for extra - it’s just the standard amount of gold braid they put on a captain’s hat these days. DOUGLAS: In the Democratic Republic of Congo, maybe. MARTIN: Well, anyway, what do you think? Fancy a flight deck Christmas? DOUGLAS: I think it’s an utterly stupid idea for two reasons: one of which is obvious, and the other of which is that Arthur is twenty-nine years old. MARTIN: Pass the time, though. DOUGLAS: Oh, go on, then. (Intercom beeps.) MARTIN: Arthur, could you step into the flight deck? CAROLYN: So what exactly is it your company does, Mr. Alyakhin? MR. ALYAKHIN: We sell yachts. CAROLYN: Oh, what sort of yachts? MR. ALYAKHIN: Massive yachts. CAROLYN: To whom? MR. ALYAKHIN: To people who do not have massive yachts – or more often to people who do have massive yachts but who would now like another y...
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