(A bedroom of a middle-aged, middle-class wealthy couple. It's dark. They are both lying fast asleep on their backs. Maurice Zatapathique climbs in through the window and pads across to the wife.)
Maurice: Vera... Vera... darling! Wake up, my little lemon. Come to my arms.
Vera: Maurice! What are you doing here?
Maurice: I could not keep away from you. I must have you all the time.
Vera: Oh, this is most inconvenient.
Maurice: Don't talk to me about convenience, love consumes my naughty mind, I'm delirious with desire.
(He kisses her hand repeatedly. The husband wakes up with a start and sits bolt upright and looks straight ahead.)
Husband: What's that, Vera?
Vera: Oh nothing, dear. Just a trick of the light.
Husband: Righto! (goes to sleep again)
Vera: Phew! That was close.
Maurice: Now then my little banana, my little fruit salad, I can wait for you no longer. You must be mine utterly...
I love Eric Idle.
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