Voyage Around My Father's Head #5

Close your eyes and picture this.

No! Don't close them until you've read what you're meant to be picturing.

A party is being thrown in a house dangerously close to a canal. About 250 people are present, most of whom are unrelated/unknown to immediate family but who seem to have very tenuous connections to the owner of the house. (In other words, a large number of complete strangers have been invited to celebrate his birthday with him. One suspects he merely passed them in the street earlier in the day.) The next-door-neighbour, Larry, is not what we might call fond of parties, or of the birthday boy, or of the immediate family, or of - well, anyone actually - and has summoned the Police. The time is 8.30pm. (The party began at 7.30pm).

Characters:
Pa - 70, flying - his words - and gregarious.
Daughter - harrassed, sober, convinced she was adopted.
Larry - curmudgeonly and a Yorkshireman. (The two go hand-in-glove.)
Police Officer - officious and confused. (Not a good combination.)

PC: I've explained to your neighbour, Larry, here that there isn't anything I can do.
Larry: He's creating a nuisance.
Pa: You're a nuisance!
Daughter (HISSES): Shut up, Dad.
Larry: Someone's been singing Frank Sinatra songs for thirty minutes.
Pa: He's doing Dean Martin next. I'm paying him £300 to wear a monkey suit and sing songs I like.
PC: Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin will only be considered a nuisance after half-eleven tonight. The party will be over by then, won't it?
Pa: Half-eleven tomorrow morning!
Daughter (HISSES): Shut up, Dad.
Larry: People are drinking too much. They might drive.
PC: I cannot arrest anyone on the basis of what they might do, Sir.
Pa: I've got three judges in there -
PC: They are often the worst offenders -
Pa: And two QCs -
Daughter: Shut up, Dad -
Pa: And two boxes of fireworks
PC: Fireworks?
Pa: Massive boxes.
PC: Who will be in charge?
Pa: Firework's brought 'em.
PC: Who?
Pa: Firework.
PC: I understand that, Sir, but who will be in charge?
Pa: Are you deaf?
Daughter: Dad -
Pa: Firework. That's his name.
Daughter (APOLOGETICALLY): His real name's Dave.
Larry: I like fireworks.
PC: Well, what's the problem then?
Larry: I don't like Frank Sinatra.
Pa (SUDDENLY): I remember you, Officer.
PC: Sir?
Pa: You're the one who arrested me last time -
Daughter: DAD!

(Offstage - Fly me to the moon, let me sing amongst the stars...)