NELLIE: Give it a good wang!
TIM: Yes, go on Roger, wang it!
ROGER: Give me a second.
[ROGER loosens his shoulder muscles and then picks up the welly]
NELLIE: Aim for the hedge!
TIM: The moon!
NELLIE: Yes, the moon! Hit the moon!
ROGER: Right, hold on to your jumpers, here we go.
[ROGER picks up the welly and spins around like a hammer thrower. He spins and spins in place until dizzied he loosens the welly which smacks NELLIE incredibly hard in the face. NELLIE collapses.]
TIM: Roger! You dill!
ROGER: Oh gosh, Nellie! I’m so sorry!
[NELLIE moans feebly]
TIM: I say, she looks pretty rough. Get your handkerchief out.
ROGER: Right-oh. Here you go, mother shan’t be happy with the blood but have at it Nellie.
[TIM pinches NELLIE’s nose with the handkerchief.]
TIM: Come on old girl, you took quite a biff. Say something.
[ROGER raises her arm, which limply falls back to her side.]
ROGER: I say.
TIM: Is she dead?
ROGER: I rather think so. You might as well take your handkerchief back.
TIM: Gosh. Poor Nellie. She didn’t deserve that. If you two hadn’t been pushing me to wang it to the moon, then maybe she’d still be alive.
ROGER: Steady on! We all wanted to practice for the welly wang, it was just an accident, Nellie would understand and what’s more she’d want you to compete on Sunday at the village party. She’d want you to win too.
TIM: Do you think?
ROGER: I do think. She can’t die in vain and if you didn’t win that Welly Wang trophy at the party then it would be a fete worse than death.
[The sun collapses in on itself].