(Schweyk's café. FREDERICK is playing his guitar, singing quietly to himself. JIM is playing along on his mouthorgan.)

Peace,

Peace begins

Peace begins with me.

(Enter SID)

SID:

'Ere, Fred. I just got off the old dog 'n' bone. You'll never guess what my mum tells me.

Mum says Mick's been on the blower from New York.

FREDERICK:

Mick Jagger?

SID:

Nah, not that clapped out old wanker.

Mick Jones. We wuz at school together. 'E's in New York to get a Rock 'All of Fame award for the Clash.

Anyway, she says when Mick gets 'is award, 'e says it ought to be really for 'is mate Sid, oo's a Yooman Shield in Baghdad. 'N' 'e says everyone stood  up 'n' cheered. In Noo York, man, primetime TV, coast-to-coast, whatchoo gotta say about that, then? Is that one in the eye for bleedin' Bush or what, man? Then Neil Young says "this war sucks" 'n' the whole place goes crazy.

FREDERICK:

Absolute knockout. She must be very proud.

SID:

'Ere, wouldn' it be great if Mick could come over 'ere for a visit, play for the kids on the street? Of course, it'd never 'appen.

FREDERICK (thinks for moment):

Why not?

SID:

Well, people 'ere's so tight-arsed, they'd never go for a load o' punks from the West comin' 'ere 'n' corrupting their youth.

FREDERICK:

Well, you're here, Sid. Can't be much more corrupting than that.

SID:

Damn right.

FREDERICK:

Wait a minute, let me think. Remember that guy Farouk, he was at the national theatre the other day when I sang and Pedro read his poem?

SID:

Nah, I didn' go. Wasn' my scene.

FREDERICK:

He gave me his card. He's head of music on TV. We could go and see him, put it up to him, see if he goes for it. (thinking aloud, his eyes half-closed)A big concert, here in Baghdad. We could do it at a football stadium, invite people from all over the world. He could sell the TV rights worldwide, too.

SID:

We're about to 'ave a bleedin' war, in case you 'adn' noticed. No way yer gonna get hunnerds of Western kids 'ere. Getting' the bleedin' visas'd take an age, man. War'd be over 'n' done before they even started on the bleedin' paperwork. You know 'ow much time Shane 'ad to spend at the embassy in Amman, just getting a hunnerd or so of us in. 'N' you'd be talking bleedin' thousands, man.

JIM:

'Scuse me if I butt in. I think it's a great idea. I could email my sister in the States 'n' see if she could get Joan Baez interested. I'm sure that  even if Joan was the only one would show up for our concert, it'd throw a monkey wrench into the Bush Administration's timetable for the attack.

SID (getting enthusiastic):

Bleedin' Joanie-palonie and the bleedin' Clash, on the same bill. That's gotta be a first.

JIM:

Shouldn't we keep Hashimi in the loop?

SID:

Nah, what's the point? What's 'e know about bleedin' music?

FREDERICK:

You never know. If getting a visa could be made automatic when you buy your ticket in London or New York or Tokyo, automatic admission if you present your ticket at the border . . .

SID:

Would they wear that? They're bleedin' paranoid, don't fergit. Remember 'ow long it took for us to get cleared through at the border, writing down the serial numbers of all the bleedin' cameras, confiscating our bleedin' mobiles? Never 'appen.

FREDERICK:

What we need to do is get on the phone to everyone we know. I could try the Floyd. Perhaps Gilmour and Waters might even sink their differences and play together for the cause of world peace. You talk to Mick. I'll see if I can get through to Gilmour. I have his fax number from way back. Might still work.

SID:

Yeah, well you just lost me there. Know 'ow long it took me to get me mum on the blower today? Two bleedin' 'ours! We need a phone of our own. We can't rely on the one in the Shields office, cos there's always a queue. Likewise the phone shops on the street. Cost you 'n' arm 'n' a leg, besides. End of story. Thank you 'n' bleedin' goodnight.

FREDERICK:

I'll ask Farouk if we can use his office. Or Hashimi. If we never ask, we'll never get. And we might just get our hundred thousand Westerners on the streets of Baghdad after all. I think even George Bush'd think twice before bombing them!

(fade, to denote passage of time. FREDERICK and SID enter.)

SID:

Bleedin' Ace, mate. Own up, I never thought you'd do it. But you pulled it off wi' Farouk.

FREDERICK:

Did you notice how he just said we could have the stadium? Didn't even pick up the phone. I asked shouldn't he check, see if it was available, and he looked at me as if I was crazy. But this is a dictatorship, after all. Remember that copper yesterday.

SID:

Yeah, the way he flagged down that poor bleeder in 'is car when we were looking for a taxi, told 'im to take us to the Palestine, no ifs or buts. The guy just did it, no problem. Even argued when we tried to give 'im the taxi fare.

FREDERICK:

Yes, well I think that was probably just Arabic courtesy. We've had it from proper taxi drivers, too.

SID:

Yeah, 'n' then they argue yer not givin' 'em enough. Taxis 're the same the world over. Bunch o' bleedin' thieves.

When Farouk arsked if it was realistic to see if we can do it in three weeks, I nearly pissed meself when you said no. 'N' then you said we'd do it anyway. 'E was fit to be tied. Me too.

FREDERICK:

We need to get on the phone as soon as we can.

SID:

Mick won't be out of bed till noon, at least. That's when, 'ere?

FREDERICK:

About three. I'm going to the office, see if I can get emails out to all and sundry.

SID:

I'm going to the Palestine wiv yer, up to the rooftop bar, get some strong black coffee down me. This is already doin' me bleedin' 'ead in. I don' reckon we'll be getting' much sleep from now on.