*****   The Pilate's Chamber Scene from Life of Brian           *****
 *****   Transcribed by Dwayne A. X. E. E. (86/6/21)             *****

 (BRIAN is hauled into PILATE'S audience chamber.  It is big and impressive,
  although a certain amount of redecorating is underway.  The CENTURION salutes.)

         CENTURION
      Hail Caesar.
         PILATE
      Hail Caesar.
         CENTURION
      Only one survivor, sir.
         PILATE
      Thwow him to the floor.
         CENTURION
      What sir?
         PILATE
      Thwow him to the floor.
         CENTURION
      Ah!
 (He indicates to the two roman GUARDS who throw BRIAN to the ground.)
         PILATE
      Now, what is your name, Jew?
         BRIAN
      Brian.
         PILATE
      Bwian, eh?
         BRIAN  (trying to be helpful)
      No, *BRIAN*.
 (The CENTURION cuffs him.)
         PILATE
      The little wascal has spiwit.
         CENTURION
      Has what, sir?
         PILATE
      *SPIWIT*.
         CENTURION
      Yes, he did, sir.
         PILATE
      No, no, spiwit ... bwavado ... a touch of dewwing-do.
         CENTURION  (still not really understanding)
      Ah.  About eleven, sir.
         PILATE  (to BRIAN)
      So you dare to waid us.
         BRIAN  (rising to his feet)
      To what?
         PILATE
      Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
         CENTURION
      And throw him to the floor, sir?
         PILATE
      What?
         CENTURION
      THWOW him to the floor again, sir?
         PILATE
      Oh yes.  Thwow him to the floor.
 (The CENTURION knocks BRIAN hard on the side of the head again and the TWO
  GUARDS throw him to the floor.)
         PILATE
      Now, Jewish wapscallion.
         BRIAN
      I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
         PILATE
      *WOMAN*?
         BRIAN
      No, *ROMAN*.
 (But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the CENTURION.)
         PILATE
      So, your father was a *WOMAN*.  Who was he?
         BRIAN  (proudly)
      He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
         PILATE
      Oh.  What was his name?
         BRIAN
      Nortius Maximus.
 (An involuntary titter arises from the CENTURION.)
         PILATE
      Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
         CENTURION
      Well ... no sir.
         PILATE
      You sound vewwy sure ... have you checked?
         CENTURION
      Well ... no sir ... I think it's a joke, sir ... like ... Sillius Soddus
      or ... Biggus Dickus.
         PILATE
      What's so funny about Biggus Dickus?
         CENTURION
      Well ... it's a ... joke name, sir.
         PILATE
      I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Biggus Dickus.
 (Involuntary laughter from a nearby GUARD surprises PILATE.)
         PILATE
      Silence!  What is all this insolence?  You will find yourself in
      gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
 (The GUARD tries to stop giggling.  PILATE turns away from him.  He is angry.)
         BRIAN
      Can I go now sir ...
 (The CENTURION strikes him.)
         PILATE
      Wait till Biggus hears of this!
 (The GUARD immediately breaks up again.  PILATE turns on him.)
         PILATE
      Wight!  Centuwion ... take him away.
         CENTURION
      Oh sir, he only ...
         PILATE
      I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
         CENTURION
      Yes, sir.
 (He starts to drag out the wretched GUARD.  BRIAN notices that little
  attention is being paid to him.)
         PILATE
      I will not have my fwends widiculed by the common soldiewy.
 (He walks slowly towards the other GUARDS.)
         PILATE
      Now ... anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my fwend ...
 (He goes right up to one of the GUARDS.)
      Biggus ... Dickus.  He has a wife you know.
 (The GUARDS tense up.)
      Called Incontinentia.
 (The GUARDS relax.)
      Incontinentia Buttocks!
 (The GUARDS fall about laughing.  BRIAN takes advantage of the chaos to slip
  away.)
         PILATE
      Silence!  I've had enough of this wowdy wabble webel behaviour.  Stop it!
      Call yourselves Pwaetonian guards.  Silence!
 (But the GUARDS are all hysterical by now.  PILATE notices BRIAN escaping.)
         PILATE
      You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps.  Seize him!  Blow your noses and seize
      him!  Oh my bum.

 *****   Here endeth Part Ten of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)     *****