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[the British outpost at the Khyber Pass has been attacked
] Lady Joan Ruff-Diamond
: Oh! How awful! What can have happened ? Captain Keene
: I don't like making guesses, but I wouldn't be surprised if there hadn't been a spot of foul play here. Missionary
: Foul play? Look at them! Lying around like a lot of unwanted cocktail snacks! Private Jimmy Widdle
: Ginger! Missionary
: Who is? Private Jimmy Widdle
: He is. Ginger, my mate. Sergeant-Major MacNutt
: Private Hale ? Private Jimmy Widdle
: Yes, Ginger Hale. Hello, Ginge. It's me, Jimmy. Your old mate, Jimmy Widdle. Private Ginger Hale
: Jimmy? Is it you? My old mate? Private Jimmy Widdle
: Ginge, mate! How do you feel? Private Ginger Hale
: Oh, not so good. I think I've been wounded. Private Jimmy Widdle
: Only here and there. Private Ginger Hale
: Jimmy, I can trust you. Now, give it to me straight. Am I going to be all right? Private Jimmy Widdle
: Of course not, Ginge mate. Private Ginger Hale
: Eh? Private Jimmy Widdle
: I said, "Of course not, Ginge mate." Private Ginger Hale
: I'm not going to be all right? Private Jimmy Widdle
: Well, how could you be, with half a dozen dirty great holes in you? You've had it. Private Ginger Hale
: You're a bleeding fine mate, I must say. Private Jimmy Widdle
: What do you mean? You asked me to give it to you straight. Private Ginger Hale
: Yeah, but I didn't mean you to. You horrible little runt, you! Sergeant-Major MacNutt
: That's enough! Widdle, you're a great little comfort to a dying man, aren't you? Now listen, Hale, it's Sergeant-Major MacNutt. What happened, lad? Private Ginger Hale
: They attacked about a half-hour ago, Sir. Hundreds of them.
] Private Ginger Hale
: Burpas! They... they... oooh!
[Hale faints. Sergeant-Major MacNutt shakes his head sadly
] Private Jimmy Widdle
: Oh, no! Ginge! Ginge, mate! I'm sorry, I... Poor old mate!
[Widdle gently covers Hale's body with a greatcoat. Hale throws it off
] Private Ginger Hale
: That's right! Bleeding well suffocate me!
: Fire at will! Brother Belcher
: Poor old Will, why do they always fire at him?
[Sergeant-Major MacNutt has knocked Captain Keene to the floor with the spear lodged in his back
] Captain Keene
: Sergeant-Major, report to the surgeon and get that thing taken out!
: I've never ridden in a cart pulled by cows before. Captain Keene
: Bullocks, Mr Belcher! Brother Belcher
: No, I haven't, honestly.
: [news of the native revolt arrives
] What do you intend to do, sir? Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond
: Do? Do? We're British. We won't do anything... Major Shorthouse
: ...until it's too late. Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond
: Exactly. That's the first sensible thing you've said all day.
: We need that rope of yours to get over the wall. The Fakir
: I'm sorry, it won't work. Not without the magic words. Sergeant-Major MacNutt
: Come on, you'll be well paid. The Fakir
: Those are the magic words! Help me of this thing!
[Keene and McNutt lift the Fakir of, to reveal empty space
] Sergeant-Major MacNutt
: What thing? The Fakir
: Oh look - I've had a touch of the levitations!
: Then I was going to say keep a stiff upper lip. Missionary
: Well I'm not standing around here waiting for mine to stiffen!