All language subtitles for Last Of The Summer Wine s02e07 Northern Flying Circus.eng

I wonder if I ought to give
up betting on the horses?

I don't believe it. I should give
up losing, just bet on winners.

Maybe I'd start betting on the dogs?

Oh, now I believe it.

You see, I didn't quite
understand at first.

I thought he was flirting
dangerously with common sense,

but he isn't. Are you? No.
You had me worried for a minute.

The world is changing that fast,
you don't know what to rely on.

But if he abandons stupidity,
that's my last certainty gone.

Well, my last certainty's
gone an' all - come in fifth.

Well, you won't be able to put so
much on dogs - they're smaller.

So that'll save you some money.

I think I fancy an ice lolly.

I mean, take dovetail joints.
Well, where are they?

I don't know, you tell us,
you just invited us on the tour.

Well, there aren't any.
Well, how the hell can we see them, you daft pillock?!

Well, that's the whole point,
they've disappeared.

Another standard of
quality gone from our lives.

Nah, people never
looked at them any road.

Do you imagine that's what they
used to do on Sunday afternoons?

Say, "Ey-up, let's go
out for an hour and have a look at some dovetail joints"?

You didn't have to go looking
for them! They knew they could rely on them being there.

They knew their
drawers wouldn't fall to pieces if somebody gave them a bit of a tug.

Oh, I see, so that's what they
used to do on a Sunday afternoon.

There's no good
talking to some people.

Serves me right for
lowering me class barrier.

You lowered it all right when you
went out with Mabel Duckingfield.

I never went out with Mabel
Duckingfield! You did! Never!

I saw you together on the clay bank!

Well, she foisted herself onto
my bird-watching expeditions but I never invited her.

Come off it! It's perfectly true!

I'd get out there, all keyed
up for a peep at a wimple...

..there'd be a rustle in the bushes
and, damn me, Mabel Duckingfield.

And would she hell as lay quiet
and let me poke twigs in her hat?

And it wasn't funny!

I bet she cost me more, that girl,
ornithologically speaking...

You what? He means that while he
was out with Mabel Duckingfield,

he never got much more than a
glimpse of a few tail feathers!

Ey-up, it's good enough for a start!

I see Gordon Hardcroft's lass
has got herself wed.

Setting a good example to her father.

Maybe he'll have a go now.

How long's he been
living with Jinny now?

Well, not long after the first
buzz bomb he moved as lodger into her spare bedroom.

Though I'm not suggesting
there was any connection.

Knowing Gordon, I bet it weren't
long before there were a connection!

You're worse than women
with the gossip, you two.

Well, we've not had so much practice.

Ah! They buried old man
Flowers last Thursday then.

I didn't even know he were dead.
Well, I suppose he must have been.

Hey, Norm, I wonder
what it's like being dead.

Well, no worse than living in
bad digs, say, in Manchester.

Don't worry about it - if old man
Flowers can do it, anybody can.

You should try the
consolations of religion.

Who wants to spend all
of eternity in a chapel?

And half of them not
decorated, any road.

No, I'm not going to go
if I can't take my ferrets.

Well, look at this! Little
Billy Aubrey's dead and buried.

I don't believe it.

Makes you think. Certainly does.

I wonder what they're
doing with his motorbike.

What the devil do you want
a motorbike for? Birds. Eh?

You can always get birds
if you're on two wheels.

I'm not saying that we do want a
motorbike, it's just that if we did,

then we'd want a slow old thing like
Billy's, just to potter about on.

It's something we could all drive,

and with the price of
petrol being what it is...

We'd get 70 to a gallon.

And that's only accidents.

Haven't you seen it?

It's not your gleaming speed bird,
it's more your ruptured duck.

So you're going to
take advantage of the widow in her hour of bereavement?

Haven't you seen Billy's
misses either? Annie Aubrey?

Oh, you've a treat in store!

Call yourself an insurance man?
Now, don't come here,

you silly faggot, till
you've got a fistful of brass.

Get to it quick enough, now's
the time to get some rich old hat.

Coming here with daft tales - it's
risks he's running, not insurance!

Sorry to hear about your Billy,
Annie. Why, what's he done?

He's dead. Oh, aye.

I'll never get used to it. Come in.

Get on, get in.

Get on back.

That's it. All right, off we go.

What the bloody hell
do you think you're doing? You might have killed...

Help!

Come on!

Ey-up, come on!

Hey, you know you're not supposed to
be in a place where they serve food.

Not since you've had
that skin complaint.

I've just about had enough
of you, you little layabout!

Don't come in here with...

Don't come in here
with jokes like that!

I weren't joking, Ivy, love.
I like laying on your chest.

Oh, get out!

What are you grinning at?!

They're all crackers, you know,
him and his dozy friends.

But don't you worry,
it's not contagious.

They don't leave out
nasty on the crockery.

Like a tip.

Cyril, you can't withdraw
from motorcycling circles

before we've even
got the engine started.

You've just nearly
killed me in free wheel!

Ah, that were nowt.

We can do better than that.
I believe it,

I believe it.
I've seen the writing on the wall.

What's it say? "Beware of little
scruffy twots in the saddle."

A midget cowboy?
Hey, I wonder who that could be?

Listen, Cyril, it'll be different
when we get the engine going.

It will and all - I shall be
watching from a safe distance.

No, but you see, when we've
got the engine going,

then you've got more control.

Now we'll have a bit of a practice on
some waste ground and then we'll all get kitted out in the suitable gear.

Like bandages?

All right, steady how you go,
love, watch the road.

Hate anything to run
over your little puddings.

Ya big flossy, messing
around with the girls!

It's a proprietor's duty to
foster good customer relations.

I know what sort of relations
you'd foster given half a chance.

Not yours for a flamin' start. Oh!

Hey, what's up with him then?
Playing hard to get?

Nah, he's just getting nervous.
And all we're trying to do is to

introduce him to the freest
thing on the road today.

Not that horrible bird
you used to knock about with?

No, we've just bought little
Billy Aubrey's old outfit.

His old outfit?
What, the Royal Navy?

No, you daft Elsie,
his motorbike and sidecar!

Oh, I thought... I knew we'd lost
a few ships, but bloody hell!

WE'VE just bought?

Well, I told you I would owe you
my share till I get a windfall.

And their Annie has just given us
all Billy's old riding gear,

and funnily enough,
it's just about my size.

Which is more than can be said
for that horrible bird that you used to knock about with.

Ruby?
The one built like a forklift truck.

Oh, Pauline. What was Ruby like?

Oh, she had black hair.
Oh, I remember, on her legs.

No, she wore it in a bun.

She often had it trailing
in her soup and all!

Hello, the Black Tulip!

Davo Cogden! Ey-up, Davo.

Whose is that motorcycle
combination parked outside,

halfway across flaming High Street?

How's your mum, David?
Yes, tell me, is this the same Davo Cogden who attended

evening classes with me last winter,

a course of six lectures on Western
philosophy and a wine tasting?

We had just defeated
the Japanese at Mandalay.

I was having a bath in a
steel helmet when a voice said,

"I know that face."

And there he was,
covered in Japanese blood but smiling, Davo Cogden.

You've got two seconds to move it.
Fast!

Some might say it's a
powerful sexual symbol,

but I think
the wheels are too short.

Can you see his carburettor?

Only when I bend down.

It's all gone dark.
Somebody put the lights on!

Oh, me tongue!

Come on inside.
He can't even put the hat on.

Get in, get in.

Now, just take it easy.

I hate biting my tong.

Your "tong"? It's a tongue.

I don't care what it is,
I hate biting it.

I'm surprised you should say that,

I was only thinking
how well you were doing it.

It weren't me that were doing
it, it were thee. Rubbish.

Time you could control it.

You can't have a great slippery
lump rolling about your mouth.

Make it behave.
It does behave normally.

Well it can't be doing
if it's leaping in the way when your teeth are going past.

Must be a terrible life,
being a tongue, having to keep your head down all the time.

Must be terrible life being his
tongue, with all the rubbish he

keeps sliding down it. What rubbish?

All those rotting great sandwiches
of yours, for a start.

What must he make of them? He must
think he's being buried alive.

Get off!
What do you think you're doing?!

Well, you are tough, aren't you?

You're the test pilot,
nerves of steel.

You're going to nip out there
any minute and zoom off

into the wild blue yonder.

I'm only going to
drive round the bloody yard!

That's right, on you get.

Hang on, hang on.

Not much good trying to
start it without turning on the petrol, is it?

OK, go on.

Wait a minute, I want the goggles.

I can't drive it
without the goggles.

Hang on, wait a minute. That's it.

Oh, me nose!

Me nose! Me nose!

Take him inside.

Oh, dear! Oh, me nose, oh, me nose!

I have never seen such
a blasted performance.

You were only going round the yard,

so what do you want
goggles for anyway?

Because it's dangerous if you
don't wear them on a motorbike,

you might get grit in your eyes.
But you're not planning on driving and having your eyes open, are you?

Not till you've got
used to the damn thing.

Goggles! I suppose you'd like us
ready with a fire tender.

But you're entirely without
a parachute, you know,

if you have to bail out.

Oh, it's all right for you, you've
got your feet on the ground now.

You just wait till I get
you back in that sidecar.

Oh, oh, oh... Has it stopped?

Well, it doesn't seem to be ticking.
Maybe you forgot to wind it.

That's not very likely.

He keeps poking about with it.
Leave it alone! You'll wear it out.

It's all right for you,
you didn't get a clonk, did you?

I can tell you,
conks is painful things.

It made my eyes water,
tell you that much.

Yes, it's funny that. I mean,
if you bang your knee, it doesn't make your toes leak.

And what about acupuncture?

Oh, it'll be all right. He'll have
a repair outfit in the tool kit.

Are you ready for the off then,
Biggles?

Please excuse my poor blind friend.

I thought that you fighter
pilots were supposed to be

bung full of carrots, what's all
this about seeing in the dark?

Well, the goggles
have all got misted up.

Well, leave them up there now.
Come on.

Come on, come on. Sit on it.

Sit on it!

All right! Go on.

Switch her on.

Stand back, stand back.

Tickle the carburettor.

I told you tickle it,
not bump it!

Well, now that you've
discovered where you really need your goggles, what next?

I think my welly must have slipped.

But I think I've got
the knack now though.

Well, I wouldn't be too
sure after a clout like that.

Before you start boasting,
I would do a bit of stocktaking.

That made me feel
quite sick for a moment.

I've been feeling
sick since we started.

I've never seen such a
maladjusted performance. Have you put a jinx on it?

I haven't put owt on it.

Don't worry, it's wearing off now.

Oh, I'm getting my rag up now,
I tell you! Steady, steady...

I'll show that black oily
pillock next time, I tell you.

I don't think I can go through
all that again. The suspense you feel, it's killing me.

Don't worry, don't worry,
it's all coming back to me.

Ah, we can see that. The same
kind of mechanical idiocy

that broke my clockwork
Napoleon at school.

Oh, Cyril, don't you bear a grudge?

Three and 11, it cost me,
in them days.

Well, I only wanted to see
what he'd got up his jacket.

It had two blasted
holes where its keys went.

Oh, so that's why he always had
his hand in there. It must have been useful for storing his plans.

You turned him on
and he pointed towards Moscow.

But you went and bust his spring.

And now he's stuck eternally
with his hand pointing down the front of his trousers.

Who would want to buy
an old Napoleon any road?

You were just trying to creep
round the history teacher.

Anybody else with three and 11 would
have bought themselves a motorboat,

and then with the change,
they could have had a quick sail around Audrey Singleton.

Well, never mind about motorboats,
what about motorbikes?

Are you ready to leap
fearlessly into the saddle and away then, Flash?

I am ready when they are.
Well, get off with you then.

Are you coming? Yes,
when we hear that engine start.

Will he be all right, do you think?

Oh, he shouldn't come
to much harm out there.

Well he hasn't done so
bad up to now, has he?

Probably better
with nobody staring at him.

I wonder which way he's pointing,
I can't remember. Does it matter?

Well, it does if she
gallops away with him.

I understood they had
something called steering.

There are things you can twist,
aren't there? Like your spine.

We're not going to pamper him.

We're not going out there
to bother him anymore.

Two Scotches, please. We've
carried him all over the place.

It's time he had a bit
of personal responsibility.

Yes, I agree, Cyril, but
what you've got to remember is that he's not all that bright.

Well, you could say that,

but I prefer to think of
him as downright stupid.

In compensation, God, in his wisdom,
gave him a low natural cunning,

but would that sort of package deal
have included the use of a motorbike?

Anyway, absent friend.

Down his Brands Hatch.

We should have heard
him kicking it by now.

I'll bet he's tried to push that
starter with his hand this time,

and it's swung round
and clocked him on the chin.

Maybe he's stretched out
on the floor bleeding.

Can't see him from here.

He's been picked up, obviously,
by a passing ambulance.

Why not a band of marauding
Indians? Don't be so damned cheerful.

Where is he then?

Here, where have you been?

Have you broken anything?

Not whistling to keep
our spirits up, are you?

I've been for a widdle.
I've not broken anything.

We've been sitting
in the pub, you barm key,

expecting to hear you!

Why?! I only had three halves!

Don't encourage him.

We might all have been better
off if the Wright brothers had never got off the ground with an aeroplane.

There's always the atomic bomb.

I know, but if they'd had to
drop it from a bicycle, it might have made them think a bit.

What about this thing? Ho-ho!

I ain't had so much fun since my
ferrets bit the rent man, haha!

Right then,

I'll get kitted out and then
we'll go for a little run.

Get the gear.

Come on then, off with your coat.

Look at him - like a
World War One rusty torpedo.

Put him in the water,
give his wellies a spin

and he'd go for miles.

Not an unpleasing
appearance, I like it.

Look, either get me out of here
or hand my beer in.

And how am I going to go home
when the sandwiches come?

Like a little pig?

Aye, probably.

That's it. Pull the sleeves in.

This never belonged to Little Billy,
this might have belonged to Annie.

Or maybe it was something
they did together, like frightening the rent man.

Come on, on with your coat again.
Not a very good fit, is it?

Like his teeth.

Wait, you!

Hey, I hope Little Billy
really was dead

when they found him all stiff,
and not just having a nap in these.

Now then,
let's get them trousers off.

All right. Come on then.

Push it through. I'm pushing it!

Push it! Ey-up, ey-up,
there's only one thing for it.

We'll have to take his wellies off.
Oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

Ah, well, that's life.

Sometimes roses, and sometimes feet.

Now get your feet through as quick
as you can and into your wellies,

and don't leave them out a
moment longer than is necessary.

And if you touch those sandwiches
again, I'll kill you.

You'll have to help me
on with my wellies.

Hey, I hope you know how you're
getting me into this, because you've got to get me out.

It's easy, you just
chalk an arrow on the wall every time you come to a corner.

Hey, watch it! Oh!

Will you be quiet and concentrate?!

I am concentrating!

And would you like
to guess whereabouts?

Right, that is finished.

I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Now then...

Hey hey, it's like
being in a glass bucket.

Aha, that's what I wanted.

Serves you right, you greedy
little gannet.

You know what
they've done, don't you?

They've buried Little Billy in his
riding suit and this is his coffin.

I hope all the buttons don't
just fall off

and the whole thing swings open.

I would not wish to see that.

The larva of the caddisfly
picks up bits of debris

and sticks it all over
itself to form a kind of shell.

Do you realise there's every
possibility that when you come back out it'll be as a butterfly?

Oh, give us a kiss.

Come on, then.
Get your gauntlets on.

That's it. My God, look at him,
Baron von Richthofen.

Come on, wolf of the
skies, lead the way.

I do beg your pardon.

My Eadie used to wear
nighties like this.

On a full moon, you could see right
through to her main idea.

It's a lot of
clobber for a motorbike.

You'd think he were togged up
for the lift-off.

Now remember, don't
thump it this time.

What a way to go.

Where's the instruction book?

In my jacket pocket.

Under all that lot?!

I hate him. No, you don't.

Are you sure?

Pretty sure. That's funny,
I thought I hated him.

Puts your head in glass
buckets, doesn't he?

Gives me fags.

And it was only a short while ago
he was giving you a V-sign.

That's true.

Well, there you are, you see?
Nobody's all bad.

Come on!

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