Madge discovering that Lou has planted a banner advertising Lou's Place in the driveway of No. 24.
Harold finding a copy of ‘Ambrosia' magazine in Paul's bedroom.
Madge gasps in astonishment:
MADGE: ‘Ambrosia' magazine? Let me see!
HAROLD (looking appalled): No, certainly not!
MADGE: Don't be silly; let me see.
HAROLD (pompously): There's no need for you to be exposed to this graphic rubbish.
MADGE: *I'm* not exposed; *she* is! [She indicates the woman on the front cover.]
With that, Madge grabs the magazine!
Joel comes in and asks what's with the giant sign next door. Lou retorts that it's not next door; it's on *his* property and he can prove it. Drew sighs at him that he's just making the hassles with next door worse. Lou shrugs that it's his rights: he'll make them sweat it out. Changing the subject, Joel tells Drew that he needs a favour from him: he needs a hand getting his new bed to No.30, as the shop charges for delivery and that's not in his budget. Drew smiles:
DREW: No problem. Any time. [Looking at Lou] That's what friends are *for*...
Harold is laying the table for dinner, looking agitated. Madge sighs that she does wish he'd stop fretting.
HAROLD: Well, where's Paul? He's been in his bedroom for *ages*.
MADGE: He's doing this homework.
HAROLD: Yes, well one can only hope(!).
MADGE (sighs): Harold, one girly magazine does not make him a sex maniac.
HAROLD: No, of course not, but he's only a *boy*.
MADGE: Who is fast becoming a young *man*.
HAROLD: Yes – and as such has a young and impressionable mind. I mean, do you really believe that magazines like Ambrosia give a healthy, responsible outlook towards--
HAROLD: You know!
MADGE: Go on, Harold: say it.
HAROLD (reluctantly): The birds and the bees thing.
Harold goes on that those magazines simply do not reflect real life; they're all surgical enhancement and pouty, glossy lips and some vacant come-hither looks.
MADGE (looking bemused): How many of these magazines have you *seen*?!
Harold insists that Paul has to understand that women are not there just to be gawped at: they're people; they deserve respect.
MADGE (mutters): Someone should tell that to Lou Carpenter...
Harold says he's going to tell Paul. Madge, however, retorts that she's not going to have a scene. Harold just insists:
HAROLD: Not a scene; a talk. *The* talk. He must be finding all these new feelings very confusing.
He adds that Paul needs him; he's not going to fail him.
Philip uses the flame from a candle to light some newspaper in the fireplace. He then turns to Ruth and smiles:
PHILIP: This is great! Isn't this great?!
RUTH: Sure – apart from the lack of electricity!
PHILIP: Oh, I don't know: I'm feeling all primal and empowered!
Ruth is making dinner on the stove in the lounge. Philip comments suddenly that something's burning. He turns back to the fireplace to discover smoke filling the room. Ruth grabs a pail of water and tips it on the fire to put it out. She comments that the chimney must be blocked. As the two of them start coughing at the smoke, Philip asks Ruth if she's OK.
RUTH: No, I'm not OK; I'm far from it.
PHILIP: Sorry - I should have checked the chimney.
RUTH: It's OK, it's not *your* fault; *I'm* the one who got us into this hideous nightmare!
PHILIP: It's not *that* bad.
RUTH: It *is*. It's cold... dark... and there are spiders...; and it was one of my clients who conned us into coming here. All she wanted to do was get that stupid freezer delivered.
PHILIP: Well we got her back: we filled her house full of smoke!
Ruth then comments that she doesn't get it: Mrs. Naurer may not have known that there were spiders, but how did she think they were going to keep warm?
PHILIP (a twinkle in his eye): I can think of *one* way to keep warm...!
Ruth suddenly remembers the cheese sauce she was cooking on the stove. She turns back to it: it's burnt and inedible!
Harold hands his cleared dinner plate to Madge, at the kitchen sink, and tells her that the meal was scrumptious. He then looks across at Paul, still sitting at the table, and whispers to Madge that he seems very quiet. Madge nods that he looks a bit pale. Harold remarks that it's about time they had that talk: Paul is obviously racked with adolescent confusion. Madge muses that she's sure Paul isn't half as confused as Harold was at his age! Harold suggests to Madge that she may want to leave them! With that, Madge heads off to the bedroom, leaving Harold to say:
HAROLD: Well now, Paul: now that we've eaten, there's something we need to talk about.
He sits back down at the table, opposite Paul.
PAUL (looking surprised): There is?
HAROLD: Yes, indeed!
PAUL: It's not bad news, is it?
HAROLD: No, no! In fact, handled correctly it can be a joyous and a wondrous thing. Um... you see, the-the-the thing is, there's nothing to be ashamed of.
PAUL (blankly): Ashamed of what?
HAROLD: Well, there's nothing to be ashamed of if you want, um... dessert.
PAUL (looking bemused): What?!
Ruth and Philip are sitting on the couch in semi-darkness, candles lighting the room. Ruth sighs that she's feeling cold, and Philip puts his arm round her. They both agree that they're hungry. Phil adds that it could be worse.
RUTH: It already *is*: we're out of wine!
PHILIP (muses): No fire... no wine... guess that just leaves one thing...!
RUTH: And what might *that* be?!
PHILIP: Bed?! It's just you and me... alone in the country...
RUTH: What about the spiders?
PHILIP: They can make their *own* fun!
Harold is saying:
HAROLD: Now, Paul, there comes a time in every young man's life when he begins to experience certain feelings.
Madge is sitting with him at the table, listening as he goes on:
HAROLD: Mother Nature is a many-splendored thing, and among those splendours is love: the love of the boy rabbit and the girl rabbit; or the love of the girl hummingbird for the boy hummingbird.
Madge chips in suddenly and asks Harold in disbelief what all this hummingbird drivel is about!
MADGE: When are you going to get to the sex?!
HAROLD: I'm trying to be tasteful and sensitive.
MADGE: Well you're only being vague and confusing. He's not going to know what you're on about!
Harold retorts that he's only doing his best. Madge assures him that she knows he is, but aren't there some things that are best left to the experts? Harold sits there, looking put out.
Philip and Ruth are asleep in bed when Ruth becomes aware of a torch shining through the window and hears something outside. She wakes Phil, who lights a candle. Someone suddenly bangs on the door. Philip gets up to find out who's there and Ruth goes with him. Both looking hesitant about greeting their late-night visitor, they glance at each other nervously before Philip calls out:
PHILIP: Who is it?
MAN'S VOICE: Police. Open up.
Philip does as he's told. He then says:
PHILIP: Sergeant. Is there something wrong?
SERGEANT: Yes. Mind explaining what you're doing here?
A short time later, Ruth is saying:
RUTH: I don't understand: Mrs. Naurer said No. 7. This is No. 7.
The police sergeant just sniffs and asks if anyone can smell smoke. Philip admits sheepishly that they had a bit of a problem with the fireplace! He then suggests the sergeant call Mrs. Naurer: she can sort it all out. The sergeant, however, replies that the two of them will feel like prize galahs if he ‘phones her up and she tells him what he already knows.
PHILIP: And what's that?
SERGEANT: Mrs. Naurer doesn't own *No.* 7; hers is *Lot* 7. It's a couple of Ks down the road.
Ruth asks him if he *knows* Mrs. Naurer. The sergeant replies that she's a lovely lady – and this isn't her house. Ruth groans:
RUTH: Phil... What have we done?
SERGEANT: You've broken into a total stranger's house, that's what you've done.
RUTH: I feel like such an idiot...
Philip asks the sergeant if they're in trouble. The sergeant, however, replies that there's no real harm done: it's only the bloke's weekender; he's interstate right now: that's why the folk across the way called *him*: because they saw a light and knew the place was supposed to be empty. He then suggests that they get their things together, as he can't let them stay there.
RUTH: But it's *dark*.
SERGEANT: That's why God made headlights! Don't worry - I'll lead the way to Mrs. Naurer's.
Ruth heads off to pack. Philip thanks the sergeant and adds that he's being most reasonable about this.
SERGEANT: You're from the city, aren't you?
PHILIP: Yeah, I guess we are!
SERGEANT: Well this is the country, mate: round here, we help each other out.
He then adds that the freezer they're standing next to looks out of place there!
Outside the country cottage
A while later, Philip and the sergeant are carrying the freezer to the car, the sergeant commenting that he's never been called out to a break-in and helped the suspects *remove* stuff! The two of them manage to load the freezer onto the trailer attached to the car – but as they put it down, Phil grimaces in pain and groans that he thinks he's done his back...
RUTH: Is this another joke?
RUTH: Is it bad?
PHILIP (groans): No, I'll live...
The sergeant suggests they'd better get going: they can follow him the couple of Ks up the road. He goes and climbs into his car. As Philip staggers to *his* car, he sighs:
PHILIP: I think I'm being punished.
RUTH: What for?
PHILIP: Pick one: skipping work... hassling spiders... not brushing properly!
RUTH: Oh come on, it wasn't *all* bad. *Some* of it was rather *fun*...!!!
Ruth then suggests that they get to Mrs. Naurer's, get up early, get home and get comfortable!
Driveway of No. 24
The next morning, Lou is standing by the sign he's erected to advertise Lou's Place, ranting at a workman:
LOU: What do you mean I need a permit? It's *my* banner, *my* business and *my* land.
Madge is standing at the window, watching the goings-on outside with glee. She calls Harold over and laughs that Lou is having a blue fit!
MADGE: I ‘phoned the council about him. You were busy writing your sex speech.
HAROLD (indignantly): Please... I haven't had breakfast yet!
Madge then explains that apparently you need a permit to display advertising material in a residential area; as an ex-Mayor, Lou should have known better.
HAROLD (looking delighted): Oo, you can be evil sometimes, can't you?!
Paul suddenly emerges from his room, but Madge stares at him and exclaims that he looks dreadful. She feels his forehead and adds that he's burning up. Harold suggests that perhaps he'd better stay home. Madge tells him to get back to bed. Paul does so. She then returns to the window and watches as Lou gives in and takes the banner out of the ground. She beams:
MADGE: Score one to the Bishops, I think!
With that, she goes to head off to the Coffee Shop. As she does so, she suggests to Harold:
MADGE: Maybe you can give Paul that little talk now? You've got a captive audience!
Lou puts his banner down in the kitchen as Drew – sitting with Lolly at the table – tells him that he *knew* it would end like this; he can't fight the council. Lou chuckles that it was good for a laugh, though. Joel comes in at that moment and Drew says quietly to Lolly:
DREW: Look, Louise, it's a *sane* person!
Joel asks Drew if lunchtime is still OK to collect his bed. Drew nods that it's fine. Lou smiles at Drew:
LOU: *Then* you can help me with a new fence I want to build.
DREW (blankly): *What* new fence?
Lou just chuckles knowingly!
Ruth is talking on the ‘phone. She hangs up and tells Philip that it was the sergeant: he spoke to the owner of the house they ‘broke into' and he just laughed and thought they were a pair of idiots. She sighs:
RUTH: I just wanted a couple of romantic days with my current favourite man.
PHILIP (grins): Is *that* what I am?!
RUTH: Mmm! You're very sweet, you know!
PHILIP: I'm just buttering you up: you know you want to give me a back rub.
RUTH: I do, do I?
PHILIP (insists quickly): Yes, you do, you do, you do!
Philip manages to get down on the floor, lying on his front, and Ruth sits on him. Phil starts moaning in delight – just as Harold knocks on the door and comes in. He misconstrues what's going on, though, and dashes back out, saying he'll come back later! Ruth, however, calls out that it's all right! Philip asks what they can do for him. Harold comes back in gingerly says he was hoping for a word – in private, if possible. Ruth heads out to get the bags from the car, leaving Harold to tell Philip that he'd like some advice of a very special kind. Philip manages to ease himself into a seated position and he asks what's up.
HAROLD: Well, it's er...; I have to have a word with young Paul about... about ‘growing up'. It would seem he's reached that age where ‘special aspects of life' need to be cleared up.
PHILIP: You talking about sex?
HAROLD (hesitantly): Er... yes, yes, yes, I am. As you can see, I'm not very comfortable with the topic; I thought you might give me a few words of advice.
PHILIP: Well you've come to the right place, mate. Can you give me a hand up?
Harold helps Philip to his feet. Philip then goes to the bookcase and looks for a book. He finds what he's searching for and holds it out to Harold, who reads the title:
HAROLD: ‘How Sex Works'.
PHILIP: It's great. The text is concise... it's politically correct without being crazy... and the pictures are... amusing but informative.
Harold opens the book and has a look. He then gasps in astonishment:
HAROLD: Dear oh dear. It's a totally different world, eh?
Harold is sitting on the couch, looking through ‘How Sex Works', when Paul emerges from his bedroom and asks if there's any juice. Harold quickly hides the book under one of the cushions and says *he'll* get the juice. He tells Paul to sit down. Paul goes and sits on the couch while Harold goes to the kitchen. As he gets the juice, Harold says:
HAROLD: Actually, I'm glad you're awake, Paul: we can have a little chat. Would you like that?
PAUL (shrugs): Yeah, yeah, yeah, I guess.
HAROLD: Right... What would you like to chat *about*?
PAUL (shrugs): Er... um... whatever. Whatever.
HAROLD: I just thought you might have had some questions; you know...
PAUL (blankly): *What* questions?
HAROLD (sitting down and looking awkward): I don't know; questions about er, well, the, er, opposite gender.
PAUL: What – *girls*?
HAROLD: Mmm. Females, as opposed to males.
PAUL: What about them?
HAROLD: Well, you see, I'm talking about difference, Paul: the difference between a man and a woman which eventually leads to a baby – hopefully within the confines of a stable, supportive family unit.
Paul nods at him. Harold goes on:
HAROLD: Now, do you know how a baby is *made*?
PAUL: Yeah, sure.
HAROLD (looking surprised): You do?
PAUL: Yeah. We did it all in Year 7.
HAROLD: Oh, did you?
PAUL: We got to act it out and everything.
HAROLD (looking astonished): *Act it out*?
Paul stands up and says:
PAUL: Yeah, yeah. Just say I'm a sperm, right?
HAROLD (looking rather fazed!): You're a what?
PAUL: I'm a sperm – and I'm swimming; I'm swimming around the cervix with all these other sperms and I've got to stay in front ‘cos you've got to get there. And then there's a mad dash across the uterus; you're still in front; then I take a righty at the Fallopian tube; and then I'm there, and there it is!
PAUL: The almighty egg! This is better than *Easter*! I give my tail an extra flick, and BOOM! I'm home!
With that, Paul dives into the armchair, to simulate fertilising the egg! Harold beams at him excitedly and shakes his arms in celebration, looking completely thrilled at the sperm's success!!!