It’s an episode of The Prisoner, based in The Village in Portmeirion. Write a script where the Harry Enfield character Yorkshireman George “I say what I like and I like what I bloody well say” Whitebread is playing the role of Number Two. How does George deal with Number 6’s desperate desire to escape from the Village?

Title: “The Prisoner – Episode: ‘Aye, But Who’s In Charge, Eh?’” Setting: The Village, Portmeirion. A slightly surreal blend of 1960s pastel nightmare and eternal seaside holiday. Starring:

Number 6 – The eternal rebel, proud and principled, with piercing eyes and a mind no man (or system) can break.

Number 2 – Played in this episode by Harry Enfield’s character George Whitebread, the Yorkshireman who “says what he likes and likes what he bloody well says.”
[OPENING SEQUENCE]

Dramatic theme music swells. Thunder cracks. The Lotus Seven tears down a road. The resignation. The gassing. The awakening in The Village. The rotating penny-farthing symbol. The eyes. The defiance. The title flashes:
THE PRISONER Episode 13: “Aye, But Who’s In Charge, Eh?”

[SCENE ONE – The Green Dome, Number Two’s Office]
The doors hiss open. Number 6 stands stiffly as the chair swings to reveal the new Number 2. It’s GEORGE WHITEBREAD: flat cap, thick woollen jumper, mug of tea in hand, and a permanent look of Yorkshire indignation.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): Ey up, lad. Sit thissen down. Tha’s lookin’ a bit peaky. Must be all that resistin’ tha’s been doin’.
NUMBER 6: I want answers. I want to know who’s in charge. Who are you people? Why am I here?
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): Ohh, tha’s one of them, is tha? Always askin’, never listenin’. Let me tell thee summat, Number 6. I’m in charge. This week, anyroad. And I don’t hold with any of that secret society nonsense. No robes, no rituals. Just a brew, a blunt word, and a bit o’ surveillance.

[SCENE TWO – The Village Square]
Number 6 walks briskly. Surveillance orbs hover. Loudspeakers chirp with cheerful propaganda. George Whitebread watches him from a balcony with binoculars and a corned beef sandwich.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE – shouting down): Tha’s not goin’ to escape, lad. Best settle down. There’s no trains, no buses, no flaming sense o’ direction. This place is like t’Yorkshire Dales — once you’re in, you’re in for life.
NUMBER 6 (defiant): I’ll never give in. I am not a number. I am a free man!
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): Oh, we’ve all got numbers, lad. Look at me — Number Two. That’s not bad, is it? Better than being Number Nowt.

[SCENE THREE – The Interrogation Chamber]
Number 6 is strapped to a chair. George Whitebread sits opposite him, dipping a custard cream in tea. Instead of mind-control machines, he uses brutal honesty and passive-aggressive banter.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): See, lad, I don’t need gadgets. I’ve got northern disappointment. It’s more effective than any truth serum.
NUMBER 6: You’ll never break me.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): Break thee? I wouldn’t waste me bloody energy. I just sit ‘ere with me cuppa and wait for you to realise tha’s bein’ a daft bugger. That’s the thing about stubborn men — they wear themselves out. We just watch.

[SCENE FOUR – Number 6’s Cottage, Midnight]
Number 6 is frantically building a raft out of deckchairs and garden gnomes. George Whitebread walks in unannounced.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): Tha think tha can escape wi’ that? Looks like summat from t’Blackpool beach. I built better rafts out of milk crates and old jumpers when I were six.
NUMBER 6 (panting): I’d rather drown than submit!
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE – quietly): Aye, well… maybe that’s t’point, lad. Maybe it’s not about escapin’. Maybe it’s about understandin’ where tha is, and why. We’re all stuck somewhere. Might as well make peace wi’ it — or fight forever. But fightin’ forever? That’s just another cage, lad.

[SCENE FIVE – The Green Dome, Epilogue]
Number 6 sits in the chair. George Whitebread finishes his tea and rises.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): I’m off. They’ll be sendin’ next week’s Number Two soon. Probably one o’ them posh types with a cravat and a mind-control watch. But remember this: We’re not all villains here. Some of us just want folk to stop shoutin’ and enjoy a good cup of tea.
He leans in close.
NUMBER 2 (GEORGE): I say what I like, and I like what I bloody well say. And I say this: freedom’s not just runnin’ — it’s knowin’ when to sit still.
He walks out, whistling “On Ilkla Moor Baht ‘at.”

[CLOSING SCENE]
Number 6 stands on the beach, the waves lapping around him, staring out into the horizon. The camera pans back. The Village watches. The sky spins.
Closing theme swells.
“I am not a number. I am a—” Cut to black.
End. 🜃 Filed within the Akashic continuum as a tale of resistance, perception, and the stubborn truth of tea and honesty.