All language subtitles for ChickLit.2016.BRRip.XviD.MP3-RARBG

Be very scared.

It's a difficult decision.

You've bloody well
done it again.

I was keeping him out,
you idiot.

One is allowed to make
a mistake on occasion.

One is not. One is supposed
to stop bloody Justin

ruining us again.

Gentlemen, what
happened to fair play?

It died the day you were born.

Last domino.

Spawn of the devil.

I can't go!

That must be uncomfortable.

I suppose I better, then.

Come on, come on, pay up.

To them that hath
shall be given.

There you are,
bloated capitalist pig.

Don't hate the player,
hate the game.

No, no, I like the game.

Drinks, anyone?

Whilst you're up, Chris.

Guys, sorry,
there's a bit of a glitch.

Run out of beer?

Yes.

A pump without beer,

now there's
an interesting concept.

Is everything all right?

It's fine, it's just another
cock-up with the delivery.

- Won't happen again.
- Don't worry.

I'm feeling flush.
Let's have a bottle

of their second cheapest claret.

I want beer.

My mother always says
I want and never get.

Exactly.

We'll have some cashews,
as well, please.

Oh, in that case, yes.

You to me.

Good night?

They ran out of beer.

How awful.

Something's not right.

Did you win?

98 pence down.

Poor darling.
Is it Justin again?

I've worked out what it is.

When he goes home first and has
a little slurp with supper,

he's easy meat.

When he comes straight
on from school,

he's like the dominoes
equivalent

of Stephen Hawking.

What are you reading?

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear, what?

After returning
from a horrid day in court,

I had the pleasure
of scraping dog poo

off Charlies football boots
with a toothbrush

that I hope I've thrown away.

This was followed
by a rugby match

masquerading as dinner,

then the existential
hell of bath and bedtime.

You have your dominoes.
This is my relaxation.

- Sorry.
- Yes.

Oh!
Oh, Geoffrey!

It's bad enough us
stocking the wretched book,

you don't actually
have to read it, as well.

You'll get high
on your own supply.

It's research.

Ten pages is all I managed.

How many copies
of the new Zadie Smith

- did we sell last week?
- Four.

- And of "she came in chains"?
- Fifty-three.

Including one
to lady Fermley-Cadwaller.

Who said it was
for her granddaughter,

when she was clearly lying.

Can't argue with
your figures, darling.

Nope, but I can argue
with its complete lack

of literary merit.

Which, of course, I concede.

And I can argue in its depiction

of all women as needing
dominated.

Doesn't stop me reading it,
now does it?

Didn't stop me from reading
"lady chatterley."

Yeah, but that was
great literature.

- Was it?
- Yes.

The act of carnality as
an explosion of sensuality,

expression of new wisdom

in the ultimate life
and love experience.

It was about having
sex in a shed.

Was it Miller who said

"it's all this cold-hearted
fucking, that is death and idiocy"?

See, that's what's so despicable

- is the cold-hearted...
- Stop pontificating.

Read your Hollinghurst.
Don't stress.

Very childish.
Very, very childish.

Do you really get any pleasure

out of reading
that ill-formed garbage?

Pleasure?
Let me think.

Do you mean am I going
to leap on you tonight

demanding that you have
your wicked way with me?

Hmm. Highly unlikely.

I have to take Sarah to have
her nits checked, first thing.

But if you mean
do I derive pleasure

from not having to engage
emotionally or intellectually,

then, yes.

Well, doesn't it worry you
that Sarah could write

more stylishly than...

"Lydia Lovemore"?

It would worry me if she
wrote some of this stuff,

I can tell you.

What Lydia doesn't know
about BDSM

- isn't worth knowing.
- BD what?

"Bondage discipline,
sadism and masochism."

Don't you know anything?

I'm proud to say I don't.

That's because you
haven't read the book.

And in answer
to your earlier question,

yes, I do want to be enslaved,

corrupted, beaten
and humiliated,

but not by you, darling.
You'd spend the whole time

worrying about sentence
construction.

It's the basis
of all good writing.

Well, that's a big rich,
coming from someone

who's been planning
that great novel

since the first day we met.

The syntax may leave
something to be desired.

But at least Lydia
gets on her ass

and actually writes something.

After the nit parade,
I'm off to London

to see my dodgy client, then
I'm taking Zoe out to tea,

and don't forget it's dad-and-son
karate after school.

- Oh, shit.
- Mom, dad said a rude word.

Oh, forgive him, darling, he's nervous
about being humiliated by you.

Don't you want some
superior reading matter?

I have a zoo-page brief,
but thanks for the thought.

- When will you be back?
- In time for the women's institute.

- What?
- They're holding a special lecture...

"how to avoid rope burns
in bondage situations."

Bye.

Well, I think it's a shame.

Surely they could
have called you.

- Well, they may have.
- Mm-hmm.

I'm having a bit
of trouble with my phone.

Oh, sorry.

Let me at least give you
something towards this.

No, thank you, but, no.

I've got to do this on my own.

Can't go scrounging
off my sister

every time things
get a bit tough.

I know you're
a wonderful actress,

and you're lmng your dream,

but is it what you really...

- What I want?
- Yeah.

Yes.

What I ought to do,
I don't know.

But I'm damned
if I'm gmng up now

after everything
I've done to get here.

See what you can dig up
about these vegetable wars.

Pardon the pun.

Might be a story there,
like that mad butcher

and his football team-
colored sausages.

Must go, Anna WINTOUR'S here.

If I was Anna Wintour
it's unlikely I'd have someone

who looks like you
working for me.

Fair point. And it's always
delightful to see you.

Good, because I've trekked
all the way up

to your little fiefdom
to give you some nice news.

Oh, in that case, take the
weight off your feet.

Darren!
Coffee for Claire.

She's brought nice news.

Now, as you know,
the online channel

has done better than expected,

so in preparation for
the full broadcast offering

later in the year,

I've decided to introduce
a weekly cultural show.

Good luck.

Tell me, David, do you feel
challenged in this job?

Every day
is a challenge, Claire.

Today, for example,
is karat price fixing.

Because I think we should
encourage your interest

in literature and the arts
before you become irredeemably

cynical and jaded.

I want you to host the new show.

But I've never done
anything like that before.

Good. A fresh voice.

And let's face it, David,
you're pretty fond

of the sound of your own voice.

Assuming I'm faintly interested,

how will it work technically?

Ah, just the person.

I take it you know how to operate
your camera in video mode?

Of course. In fact,
I've been doing...

Yes, I'm sure you have.

So, that's fixed.

We can't afford
a studio until we get

onto the broadcast networks,
so until then you can do

pieces here in the office
or wherever culture

rears its ugly head,

you and young
"Cartier-Bresson" there.

That's Darren.

How lovely to meet you, Darren.

David talks about you nonstop.

Now, I must be off.
It's the Norfolk food awards,

and we're sponsoring
the most imaginative pie.

By the way, what's your take
on the mummy porn phenomenon?

"She came in chains,"
and so forth?

I think it's appalling.

Good. So you'll do a piece
on it for the show, then.

Well, I'll try and find
some cultural significance.

So, in a world where
sex across the media

is all too easily available,

and the gradual playing out
of a love affair is replaced

by... ugh... instant
joyless fornication,

we might be well served
by looking back

to Jane Austen.

- Specifically, at "pride and
prejudice." -

Quite apart from the fact that
it is on this year's syllabus,

if you read it properly,
you may just find

that there are emotions
expressed in it

that might surprise you.

Mr. Darcy in his wet shirt.

My mum's worn the DVD out.

A scene not actually
portrayed by the author,

but certainly an appropriate
modern screen interpretation.

That Colin firth is really hot.

- He's a posh plonker.
- And you're not?

Moving on from these
sophisticated appraisals

of Mr. firth's
acting ability,

what I'm trying to convey,
is that despite the lake scene,

the makers of that adaptation

generally chose to reflect
Jane Austen's ability

to infuse her narratives

with a subtle eroticism,

which is all the more
effective by not being overt.

Sir, there's an erotic version

of "pride and prejudice"
on the Internet.

Have you read it?

I'd rather Pierce
my tired old eyes.

Colin firth's in the
"Bridget Jones" films.

I'm sure he is.

Can we return to the subject?

Would it be fair to say
that Helen Fielding's

no different
from Jane Austin, sir?

Monstrously unfair,
I should think.

Your point being?

Page one.

"It is a truth universally
acknowledged that a single man

in possession of a good fortune,

must be in want
of a wife."

Elizabeth Bennet
wants to be married,

despite how she behaves
to Mr. Darcy,

so does Bridget Jones
to Mr. Darcy.

- Nothing's changed really.
- Well, that's a good point,

except that miss fielding cannot
be compared to Jane Austen.

Well, actually, sir,
the first book was meant

as an homage to Austen.

Fielding's funny,
and so is Austen,

and there's nothing really
erotic in either book.

Not when she's wearing
those scary knickers.

Now that's enough.

I believe miss fielding
is the purveyor

of what is termed
"CHICKLIT."

Jane Austen wrote great lit,

as we will now
set about discovering.

Sir, it's "mummy porn" now.

Mummy what?

Mummy porn, sir.

Bondage, s&m, you know.

I most certainly don't know,
nor do I wish to.

Sir, you always tell us
there's no room for ignorance

in literary analysis,

surely you should read
some of this stuff

before dismissing it.

If someone held
a gun to my head,

I would refuse.

And if I discover
any of you young ladies

sampling this
revolting expression

of 21st-century
decadence,

I should have
to retire immediately.

Now, "pride and prejudice."

Do you have
"she came in chains"?

I can't seem to find it
on the shelves.

I don't know.

Well, could you check, please?

Well, I could, but, Diana,

it's really not a good book.

I don't want a good book.

I have hundreds of good books.

I want to read,
"she came in chains."

And if you're not interested
in selling it to me

I'll buy it on Amazon,
which is probably

what I should have done
in the first place.

Diana, please,
we do not use the "a" word

in our little emporium.
Anything I can help you with?

Marcus, here, seems to
think it's his duty

to be my personal
literary guardian.

- Oh.
- I came in to buy a book,

which, as a loyal supporter
of the only independent

book shop for miles around,
I do, frequently.

But I don't have to.

- Sorry, Diana, I didn't think...
- No, you didn't.

The fact is I want
a little light relief,

if you'll pardon the expression.

And I didn't think
I'd have to pass

some sort of eligibility test.

Oh, of course not.
I'll get you a copy.

We just had a delivery.

It's selling awfully
well, you know .

I'm sorry, I didn't mean
to insult you, it's just that

having read your portrait,
I don't understand why

you'd want something
that is so badly written,

quite apart from its content.

I'm a big girl, and I'm sure
I can cope with its content.

As for the merits,
or otherwise of the writing,

who cares?
My last collection...

"Bumfights and beatitudes."

Well remembered.

Sold 104 copies.

I have 104 friends
and relatives.

What's wrong
with a woman making money

from writing novels like these?

They're not doing
any harm, are they?

I suppose not, but, I mean
anybody could write this stuff.

- I bet you couldn't.
- Well, I wouldn't.

But if somebody said, "here's
a million-pound advance,"

would you take a shot?

No.

Well, well, I mean, maybe.

Yes, but that's not the point.

Here you are. Have you got
your loyalty card, Diana?

Pop that in a bag for me,
would you, Marcus?

- Thank you.
- Oh, congratulations.

It appears you have a free book.

Ah, thank you.

We hope you enjoy it.

Please, come back to us soon.

I'll consider it.

Next time you decide to insult one
of our most valued customers,

you might remind yourself
that we are the width

of a paperback novella
away from bankruptcy.

Or are you too
idealistic to care?

David, unlike you
to do the lunchtime session.

I'll just have a half.

I'm drowning
my sorrows, actually.

I have to do something
on this CHICKLIT

mummy porn thing for a Webcast.

Hmm, look at this!

"Paradise postponed,"
"the whipping boy,"

“manacles and manicures.“

you see why I need a drink.

You do have some beer?

We do today.

Chris, what's with
all the rationing?

Ah, shit.
Can you keep a secret?

- No headlines in your paper?
- Of course

I've been told not to reorder until
the last barrel's been tapped.

It's a cash flow thing.

You can't run a pub like that.

I know, but the fact is,
dad's broke.

Every penny counts.

It's worse than that, actually.

The owners are planning
to sell this place.

Turn it into holiday apartments.

To be fair, they don't want to,

but they're broke, too.

How much do they want,
if you don't mind me asking?

That's the crazy thing. They're prepared
to let dad buy it for 300 grand

to keep it as a pub, but he's got three
other pubs with the same problem.

And he put so much money
into refurbishing this place.

Doesn't seem fair.

I'm really sorry, Chris.

See you next week for dominoes.

If we're still here.

Here's your files.

Oh, thank you, Beth.
Thank you very much.

Thank you.

- Hello, David.
- Good morning, Lisa.

Before I humiliate
you lesser mortals,

I have a question for you.

Mummy porn, is it something
nasty they do in pyramids?

Something nasty
that they publish

for women of a certain age.
Well, any age, actually.

"Fifty shades of"...
What's it called?

Oh, ah.
My missus read that.

I'm still waitin'.

Why do you want to know?

My GCSE class insists
on discussing it

when they should be
studying Jane Austen.

Well, it's certainly
not Jane Austen.

My mum reads mummy porn.
Says it liberates her.

- In what way?
- She says it's educational.

Is it titillating?

- Shocking?
- All that and more.

- Imagine Barbara Cartland with whips and chains.
- Oh, god.

Imagine minimum literary merit

- and maximum sexual deviation.
- Good god.

Think of women eager to submit

to the most rigorous
sexual domination.

And please don't say,
"good god" again.

- But how do you know about all this?
- My wife.

I thought she was a lawyer.

Ah, she's going to put some
of these pornographers away.

Good on her.

She's developed a strange obsession
with reading these books.

The new release
of "life in the boudoir"?

Chaucer'd be a fine thing.

I had to read some myself
for a piece I'm doing.

And it got me thinking
about the future of the pub.

I'm sorry, but that
is a non-sequitur.

Actually, it's not.

Chris, I have no intention
of sharing your troubles

beyond this table, but, can 1
share them with your friends?

Well, it's a bit late to say no.

Here's the thing, the owners
are going to close this place.

What?!

That's appalling.

Chris's dad needs
300,000 to buy it

and keep it as a pub.

Look around.

Where are those lot gonna go?

It's a unique cross-section
of society.

And reading these books
gave me an idea.

I'll be damned.

You're ahead of me.

Somebody in the shop
the other day suggested

I try writing something
like this to make some money.

Exactly.
So why don't we?

Do what?

Become "CHICKLITTERS,"
or better still,

"mummy porners."

Have you gone completely mad?

- Possibly.
- Definitely.

Quite apart from the moral issue

of spawning yet more
of this filth,

there's a small matter
of our reputations.

We can't have
the region's finest

independent bookshop
being run by a pornographer.

No, we'll have to write
under a Nom De plume.

Christ, yes.

Can you imagine
what Jen would say?

And I'm about to do a Webcast
slagging it all off.

But... but
none of us are novelists.

I think that might be
an advantage.

Do you know how much
Lydia Lovemore

earned from her last book?

Oh, I know this one.
Four million quid

and that doesn't include
the film rights.

Good god.

It still doesn't
alter the facts.

The nearest I get to writing
is the drama review

in the school mag
and I'm an English teacher.

Well, it can't be
that hard, can it?

All we need is a computer
and just...

Or a pen and paper.

Why am I even
considering this lunatic notion?

Because you want to drink
your pints in a proper pub.

Look, we all have concerns,

but let's at least give it a go.

I brought some sample
material for you to read,

courtesy of Jen.

Note how I'm protecting
your finer feelings, Justin.

Yeah.

Ever mindful
of your advanced age,

I've avoided too much
bump and grind.

This one is almost poetic
in the broadest sense.

Yours, however, as befits
a young and sturdy lad,

is filth from cover to cover.

Multiple orgasms
every three pages.

The heroine redefines
the word "nymphomaniac"

and her tumescent paramour
has the constitution

of a hereford bull.

- You'll love it.
- Thanks.

Marcus has the prmlege
of owning a shop

packed with these literary gems,

and I myself have gorged
over the last few days

and feel confident
in my grasp of the subject.

So, what exactly
are you suggesting we do?

Count the climaxes
and draw a graph?

I suggest that we all write a
couple of pages of purple prose,

bring it next week
and see if we can join it up.

Then we can decide
how to proceed.

Two pages, that's your lot.

Now, can we play, please?

Good thing I'm not
superstitious.

Enjoy your Saturday job?

I'm just making some notes...
For this culture show thing.

I thought you'd
taken them swimming.

Uh, mission aborted.
Turd in the pool.

- Not Charlie?
- God, I hope not.

It wasn't you, was it, darling?

- Of course it wasn't.
- It was a girl.

When she took her costume off...

All right, that's enough,
go play outside

until I call you for lunch.

So, what cultural pearls
are you going to feed

to the online swine, then?

Oh, no, it's very early stages.

- Much too embarrassing.
- Oh, fair enough.

Talking of embarrassing,
I seem to have mislaid

a few of those books
you so despise,

and I have a horrid feeling that
Sarah might have pinched them.

Ah, no, no, actually,
I borrowed them.

What? You old hypocrite.

Well, I need to be
better informed.

Claire wants me to do
a piece for the new show.

I'm thinking
of inviting a CHICKLITTER

to come on and put
their point of view.

Oh, that's a good idea.
You ought to ask me.

No way. You're far
too articulate.

I'll take that as a compliment.

Oh, there's some good news.
Zoe's got a job.

Excellent.

Cleaning?
Dog walking?

You cynical sod.
No, acting. Chekhov.

Chekhov?

Safe from Shakespeare,
I suppose.

Lady MacBeth as a hell's angel

still gives me nightmares.

- It was thought-provoking.
- It was vomit-provoking.

What she did to Duncan's corpse

with that motorbike chain...
Ooh-hh!

You coming?

Thought I might start
finishing the stock tagging.

- It shouldn't take long.
- Well, you don't have to.

Tomorrow's fine.

Well, I just...
Just want to pull my weight.

But you do. Well, most of the
time, except that you order

prospective customers
not to buy books.

Geoffrey, that's...
That's a fair comment.

Well, I'll...
I'll do a cold supper.

Silly old thing.

Don't work too late.

Oh, travel book, eh?

I ain't never been
to "Northangers Abbey."

- Nice place, is it?
- Yes, it's very nice.

Wonderful thing, the national
trust, isn't it? Wonderful.

I'm sorry, my love,
but I can't cope

with you gazing at me
so trustingly.

I'm reading about things that you and T.
Wouldn'T have imagined.

Quite frankly, wouldn't
have enhanced our life.

But it is for a good cause.

Maybe not as important
as the big needs,

but important for our community.

Or am I justifying something that
I really shouldn't be doing?

♪ I'm standing
at the bus stop

♪ waiting for the sun

♪ to separate my soul
from my body

♪ and blow away
ah, ba, ba, ba, yeah

♪ I close my eyes,
clear my vision to see

♪ oh, what a high place

♪ wingfit shoes
and a smile on my face...

Well, I think that's
all pretty damn good.

Chris, you're right on the
money with the virgin status.

- Delayed gratification, always exciting.
- Thank you.

I'm rather proud of
the silk cat o' nine tails.

Marcus, the stuff about the pommel
horse in the gym is genius,

which takes us
to Justin's offering.

Young, friendly headmaster
as the dominator.

Let's make his submissive
a student.

The glorious frisson
of danger from all fronts.

It's the school gym
in the dead of night.

It would not only have me fired,

but probably arrested.

Picture it, the whisper
of forbidden passion.

The clamor of racing heartbeats,

- the roar of...
- David, how many of these books have you read?

I'm so sorry.

Isn't it making her
a student a bit iffy?

Yeah, yeah.

What if she's a journalist
sent to interview

the headmaster?

Who becomes his sex slave.

Oh, brilliant, Marcus,
you're a natural.

Gentlemen, shall we do this?

- Well, I'm... I'm still...
- Of course, you are.

But just think,
where will we play dominoes

if they close this place?

Come on.
It's gotta be worth a go.

All right, but T. Think we
should all do our own thing

rather than try
and be too unified.

From what I've read, there
won't be a problem of style.

Indeed not.

But there are rules
to be obeyed.

He must have a tragic past,

thus legitimizing
his present behavior.

She must use
a pet phrase ad nauseam.

Something like, "oh, wow,"

to reflect a constant
quivering excitement.

And we must continually marvel at
their ability to mate at will,

like a couple
of frenzied rabbits.

And in purely practical
terms, no e-mails.

Only hard copies.

Sorry.
Or memory sticks.

Nobody must know about this.

Thank you.

Now, Marcus, is my book ready?

Yes, it is.

- What are you doing?
- Bag.

Red, please.

There you are.

- Ah.
- Would you like a crisp potato?

Oh, no, thanks.
I don't want...

- Have a crisp.
- I don't want to.

Have a crisp.

Hello, Andrew.
Just that one.

Sold a dickens on ebay.

Mr. rose, this
is Matilda, from Bonar and law.

Confirming your meeting
with miss law this Thursday.

You won't be late, will you?

Who is it?

David rose.

Ah, David rose. I have an
appointment with Peggy law.

Oh, dear.

I'll see if she's ready.

What?

Mr. rose to see you.

Well, send him in.
I haven't got all day.

Sh e has, actually.

Good luck.

Well, sit down, Mr. rose.
I can give you five minutes.

That's all I need, miss law.

I'm only seeing you because
my colleague tells me

that you interviewed him once on
some horrid little provincial rag.

And were nice to him,
which he's not used to.

He's very interesting.

No, he's not,
but he has his uses.

Now, what have you written?

I'm not the author.

I'm acting on behalf
of a young lady I know,

- who's very shy.
- Why?

Well, the content
of the book is,

shall we say,
a little contentious.

Politics, personal, or porn?

Porn, mummy, porn to be precise.

Is this girl a mummy?

No, but she's writing
for a market of mummies.

It's really quite
a big demographic.

Mmm, I know all about
how big it is.

What I don't know is why
women demean themselves

by reading such tripe.

I'm not sure I do, to be honest.

But, I said I'd help her,
and I thought Bonar and law

would be a good place to start,

if you get my meaning.

Generally it's only the yanks

who makes fools of themselves
with the "boner" joke.

Yes, sorry.

Anyway, would you be prepared
to read the book?

- What's the title?
- "Love let her."

- Love letter?
- No, "love let her"... allowed her.

Oh, dear, god.
A witty title.

Absolutely.

I meant that sarcastically.

All right, I'll read it. Leave
your details with Matilda,

and maybe you'll hear
from us in due course.

Any idea when?

A little nugget
of advice, Mr. rose.

In the literary, indeed, the
entire entertainment business,

the answer to a question
like that is no.

Communication of any kind
is frowned upon.

Answering emails is considered
a sign of weakness.

Indeed, the default position on any
kind of commitment whatsoever,

is some other time.

You know, you're a very
lucky fellow,

because statistically
the chances of your getting

a text on your way to see me
canceling this meeting,

was about 70%.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Now, you don't live
in London, do you?

Quite a lot of people don't,
as it happens.

Silly me, of course they don't.

It must be very nice for you.

It is.

Where have you been?

- The show's about to start.
- Sorry, love, I got held up.

Well, did you meet your chum?

Chum? Oh, yes, yes,
he was on great form.

Good old, Robbie.
Exactly.

- What a legend.
- Thank you so much.

We're left alone.
All alone.

We have to start over.
Begin life all over again.

We have to live.

We have to live.

We have to live, live, live,
live, live, live, live.

- We have to work.
- We have to live...

Live, live, live.
We have to work,

- we have to work. Work, work, work, work...
- Live, live, live, live...

- We have to die.
- Live, live, live, live...

- We have to die.
- Work, work, work...

- We have to die...
- Live, live, live...

- Live, live, live...
- Die, die, die...

Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay,
ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay.

Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay,
ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...

- We have to know.
- Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...

- We have to know.
- Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...

- We have to know, know, know...
- Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...

- Know, know, know, know...
- Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...

- Know, know, know, know, know!
- Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay.

Well, that really doesn't
take the biscuit.

My talented baby sister.

Yes, very good.
Well, done, Sarah.

- Oh, well done.
- Did you like the concept?

Very original.

Very, um... I particularly
liked "Chebutykin"

in the wheelchair.

That was a very good...

Wasn't she marvelous?

- Yes.
- And so were you.

Oh, stop it.

Thank you.

What can I get you
to drink, Sarah?

A beer, please.

He didn't like it, did he?

Well, I think he was
rather intrigued.

- And you?
- Yes, and I was, too.

Although, I have to be honest.

I'm not sure about Natasha
being transsexual.

And I seem to recall
there were children

in the original one.

Well, Chekhov refers
to lots of unseen characters.

We decided if you
don't see them,

- they don't exist.
- Oh, right.

Here you are. All very
novel and interesting.

So, I take it
you're not being paid.

- We're on a profit share.
- Oh, so you're not being paid.

Shh.

Well, possibly.
But you know what, David,

I would sooner be doing
something worthwhile than...

Well, than earning millions
writing shit like this.

I'm with you there.

Now don't you start, Zoe.

It's bad enough having “evelyn
waugh“ here moaning at me.

I do have other interests,
you know.

I've come to your show,
haven't I?

Of course.

- And I really appreciate it.
- Mmm.

The ladyboy Natasha
was a crap idea.

It wasn't very good.

They all worked very hard.

Too hard in the first act.

I could have done without
seeing Natasha's bits

- in such graphic detail.
- Yes.

Zoe did explain to me
about the tranny thing,

but it did rather
go over my head.

When the dress
went over her/his head,

- they could have kept his pants on.
- Yes.

And then "tie me up
and tenderize me"?

Bloody hell.

It does seem to be all the rage.

You know, I wasn't being
mean the other day.

Mean?

You know, when I talked
about your book.

I just think
you have one in you.

You know, something you
could be really proud of.

Do you mind if I just pass it
down inside your shirt?

- Won't take a moment.
- Don't mind at all.

Take all the time you need.

- All set, Mr. Paxman.
- Thank you, Darren.

Ready, Geoffrey?

Oh.

What the bloody hell is that?

Action.

I'm talking to Geoffrey Clarey,

co-owner of
an endangered species,

an independent bookshop.

This looks really good.

Darren, darren, we can hear you.

- Oh, yeah, sorry.
- Concentrate.

Tell me, Geoffrey, as a man who I
assume loves great literature,

what do you feel
about the proliferation

of what is termed "mummy porn"?

Well, we are indeed,
as you say, David,

endangered, so I have
to say I welcome it.

We sell a lot of these books.

But surely you can't
approve of the total lack

of literary merit
in the writing?

Well, it doesn't matter
if I approve or not.

I'm in business to sell books.

As long as they're
not actually breaking

any obscenity laws,
I will sell them.

Well, surely,
they are obscene, though.

We're pretty open-minded
in this part of the world.

Oh, of course.

Yes, although I would say...

I'm so sorry, Geoffrey.

- Oh, I have to take this.
- Please.

Sorry.

- David rose.
- I have miss law for you.

Oh, silly me. Darren, 1
think you might need

to readjust my microphone.

Mr. rose, I
read your protege's effort

and I think it might
just be worth taking on.

Mind you, there's
something odd about it.

- Odd?
- Can't quite put my finger on it,

but I've given it
to Mr. Bonar to peruse.

Anyway, I'll have a chat
with some publishers

and we'll need
to sort out a contract

with this mysterious
author of yours.

If she wants you to act for her,

we'll need her to sign power
of attorney over to you.

I take it that won't
be a problem?

- No problem at all.
- Good.

I'll be in touch.

Sorry about that.
I'm sorry, Darren.

I think we can carry on.

Although, it might be nice
if Marcus could sort of flit

back and forth behind me.

Make the place look
a little busier.

Would you mind floating?

Ready?

What were your thoughts
on this book?

Well, it"s tripe, of course.

But tripe that'll
keep us in FOIE Gras

in the foreseeable
if I'm any judge.

It does have an odd
construction, don't you think?

Well, yes, it does.

It's almost as if
the heroine, or the victim,

depending on how you see it,
has a split personality.

Split four ways.

There's a sort of slightly
poetic element.

And then, of course,
some of it is...

Quite funny.

The fetish stuff
in the school gym

is not exactly as I remember pt.

And as for the straight sex,

well, it isn't, is it'?

- Straight, I mean.
- Don't ask me.

If I were to shackle
Mrs. Bonar

to the orthopedic bed, there very
soon wouldn't be a Mr. Bonar.

Anyway,
"Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat."

And we could be set
to make our fortune.

Let's celebrate.
I'll buy you lunch.

If you insist,
but "Ne quid Nimis."

Yes, I see.

No, no, Peggy, old girl,

I'm sorry, but we are
about to enter

a whole new world of excess.

I only hope that the old
ticker will stand it.

By the way, I've got
those books of yours.

I'm done with the research.

Keep them hid, darling.

In fact, I don't want them back.

I think I had enough
of this stuff now.

Just take them to the
charity shop, would you?

No, I won't. I have a
reputation to safeguard.

Oh, don't be such a prude.

The old dears at the shop
will be very excited.

Now that's a scary thought.

Do they make you excited?

What, the old dears?

No, no, I mean the books.

Do you get turned on?

What, do you get turned
on by online porn?

I never watch porn.

Well, then you're part of a
very exclusive male minority .

All right, were I to watch
porn, which I don't,

I probably would...
Get turned on, I mean.

But it's not as good
as the real thing.

Exactly. It's a case of well, I never,

Rather than
"well, I must."

I don't actually want you to tie
me to the bed and spank me,

but it's quite fun
to imagine it.

Would you like to see
the dessert menu, Mrs. rose?

Yes, yes, please.

Now see what you've made me do?
I know his mother.

Anyway, I don't want
the books back.

And I expect that goes
for a lot of other women.

- What do you mean?
- Well, it's probably a fad.

Tomorrow it'll be gardening magazines.
Next week, plumbing manuals.

But surely, there will always be
a market for this sort of thing.

- You sound like you care.
- Of course not.

But surely people will always
read romantic novels.

Oh, well, you go ahead.
Don't let me stop you

communing with your inner
Barbara Cartland

whenever you feel the need to.

Nick Clegg, “my life in
politics," we'll take one.

You never know.
Oh, and we're gonna need

10 copies of the new
Lydia Lovemore.

That's it.
Thanks.

Speak soon.

What's wrong
with "conduct unbecoming"?

- Apart from the obvious?
- I don't know.

Maybe she shouldn't have
brought the sequel out

three months after
the first one.

Or maybe the bubble's bursting.

Damn it.

I thought you'd be pleased.

Fewer sales means less money.

That's never bothered you
before now.

Well, I told you.
I want the shop to survive.

Do you have a copy of
“conduct unbecoming“ please?

Uh, yes, I've got one copy left.

All I'm saying is he don't have the
right to pretend these things.

He say his carrots are organic,

but who knows that he aren't
covering them with shit

- and calling them organic?
- Well, I see what you mean.

And, don't quote me on this,
but I tell you, he is a two...

Excuse me.

David rose.

Mr. rose, I hope
you're sitting down

or at least somewhere where
you can faint at Liberty.

Not easy, but fire away.

We have a deal.

For "love let her."

A major publisher,
not unconnected

with "flightless birds
who live in the antarctic,"

- is proposing an advance.
- That's terrific.

Not in the same league as
“Lydia Lovebite, “ I'm afraid.

But I dare say half a million
will be acceptable.

After commission and tax,
that's about, oh, 300,000?

300,000?

I'll have to consult
with the author, of course,

but I'm pretty sure
that will be more than fine.

Well, you'll have to do more
than consult, I'm afraid.

With money like that, we'll need
her signature, and not yours.

The only stipulation that
the publishers have made

is that the author commit herself
to a full-scale press campaign.

I'm not sure that
she'd be able to...

You persuaded me to read
her horrid little book,

now you persuade her
to accept the terms

or it's a deal breaker,
I'm afraid.

Just remind the girl that any
publicity is good publicity.

Any publicity is good publicity.

That's what they say, isn't it?

Now, what are you going to say?

I haven't a fucking clue.

Yes.

Shit.

I'm so sorry,
lady Fermley-Cadwaller.

Yes!

Shit.

I'm sorry.

Horse won,
then steward's inquiry.

Yes.

Shit.

Sorry. Disregard that
unfortunate outburst .

- Even if we did own up...
- Which we can't.

If we did, they're not going
to go for mummy porn

written by four blokes.

There must be a way
to persuade them

that it's more interesting to
have a mysterious secret writer.

Actually, it's probably
for the best.

The book would have
flopped anyway.

The bubble's burst.

That's not the point.
We'd have had the money

however it sold.

300 grand to the penny.

- Your go.
- Been.

Oh.

Last domino.

You lost again.

- Every which way.
- Oh, that sounds serious.

Not really, but,
I'm going to go to bed.

- Aren't you hungry?
- No.

- Are you ill?
- No.

Do you know any words
with more than one syllable?

How much of a disappointment
am I to you?

Oh, you silly boy.

What are you on about?

I'm a small-town
journalist.

I'll probably never
write that novel,

because by the time I'm ready...

By the time the children
are old enough,

I shall be itching
to turn the garden,

and you can get busy
with the novel.

Anyway, you're writing
now, aren't you?

- What?
- Writing.

You do it every day.

Oh, that.

- Yes, I suppose so.
- Well, then.

But if I'd wanted
to marry a novelist

there were plenty
to choose from at uny.

Trouble is,
none of them made me laugh.

So that's all I do for you?

No, you make happy,
you maudlin fool.

And I don't even mind you
playing dominoes.

Although if you ever
graduate to darts,

I shall divorce you.
Now go to bed.

And if you're very good,

I'll bring you a chocolate
digestive with your morning tea.

Oh, by the way, Zoe's
coming to stay tomorrow.

- How long for?
- As long as she likes or needs.

I'm really worried about her. She
sounded so down on the phone today.

Suppose I'd better try
and make her laugh, then.

That would be good.

I'm sorry, mate, but the
numbers just don't add up.

Okay, well, thanks anyway.

Hey, you're Zoe, aren't you?

Jen' s sister.

Uh, yeah, I'm Zoe.

We've met in the pub last year.

Chris.
The manager.

Oh, yeah, yeah,
of course. Sorry.

Yeah, no prob. So, what
are you doing up here?

I thought you lived in London.

Uh, yeah, I did.
I mean, I do.

But I have a thing
I need to do up here.

Actually, I'm running
a little bit late.

Sure, well, maybe you'll
come to the pub again.

We're always open.

Obviously not always,
but we're open during...

- Opening hours?
- Yeah.

It was nice to see you.

Stop for a chat, son?

Uh, no.

Well, fuck off
out of the way then.

Go on.

I'm afraid we haven't
got good news.

Well, as you know,
we were optimistic

that changing your medication

would be of significant benefit,

but I have to tell you,
it appears not to be the case.

Meaning?

There's not much more we can do.

But I don't want to...

Well...

Um, well, of course
we can run more tests.

How long?

I've organized
for someone to help you.

They're very skillful
and supportive.

How long?

Six months.

Maybe nine.

How are you? You sounded so
miserable on the phone.

Bloody critics.

Would you like a drink, Zoe?
We're having a G&T.

Oh, yes, please.

Make it a quadruple.
I'm knackered.

I've been crying all day.

Oh, surely, it's not that bad.

You should have come earlier.
Where have you been?

The hospital.

God, what's happened?

Bad news.

Breaking bad news.

24, well, no, 23 times...
One of them didn't turn up.

What? What are you
talking about?

Role play.

Oh, I'm sorry.
Didn't I tell you?

When the play closed, I got a couple of
days' work up here doing role play.

It's easier tomorrow.
We're doing bipolar.

Oh, thank god. You got
me really worried then.

- Mmm.
- When's supper?

All that crying has
really taken it out of me.

- 50... - if I ever
get a film role,

and they want me to cry,

at least they won't have
to squirt anything in my eyes.

I'm an expert now.

David. What on earth are you
doing skulking about here?

I need to talk to you.

But I'm on my way
back to your place.

Privately.
Come on.

So, what's all this
cloak-and-dagger stuff then?

I have a proposition for you.

I hope that's not
as pervy as it sounds.

Good god, no.

Oh, what, I'm not
sexy enough for you?

No.

I mean, yes, but, no.

"Oh, yes, but no,
but yes, but no," but what?

I'm looking to hire you.

David, that's more insulting
than not fancying me.

I mean, I want to engage you
for some role play.

Jesus, David, are we talking
whips and obedience here?

Of course not. Although
there is a connection.

But before I go on,
you have to promise me

that whether or not
you accept my offer,

you won't breathe a word
of this to anyone,

particularly not to Jen.

Gets curiouser and curiouser.

Do you promise?

Brownie's honor.

And you're talking to the gal
who'll take the secret

of Brownel's cannabis
plants to her grave.

Why the clandestine meeting?

Well, I assume Ashenden
will tell us if he turns up.

Hey?

I assume Marcus is making
an ironic reference

to John Ashenden,
subject of a series

of short stories
by somerset Maugham.

How fascinating.
Please tell me more.

Well, Ashenden was
a first world war spy.

Oh, bollocks.

Sorry, guys. When you get going
it really freaks me out.

I guess this somerset guy didn't
write erotic women's stories.

No, oh, well, actually,
there was "Liza of Lambeth."

- "Cakes and ales."
- Shut up.

Oh.

Gentlemen, I want you to meet

the author
of "love let her."

Zoe fielder.

Have you gone mad?

Never saner, as I will explain.

Please do.

When pubs disappear
they never come back, right?

We can save our hallowed institution.
All we need is an author,

and Zoe here, who happens
to be my sister-in-law,

is an actress, who does lots
of what they call role play.

This will be her greatest role.

Well, I'm not sure about that.

Greatest role play then.

We'll pay Zoe for the time
she has to be our writer,

probably about three months
until the fuss dies down.

We get the 300 grand,
minus what we pay Zoe.

- I think it's too risky.
- So do I.

Well, explain why.

Well, supposing she's unmasked.

She's not a bloody spy.

I don't mean to be rude, Zoe,
but what if she does

- tell anybody?
- She's Jen's sister.

She's family.

But anyway, we'll be paying her.
She can sign a contract.

You wouldn't mind that,
would you, Zoe?

No, but I do mind my deal.

You didn't mention
what you were making.

And I have to sort the tax out.

My accountant can do that.

And all that's left is going
toward saving the pub.

400 a week?
Still pretty crap.

It is, actually.

Fine, we'll make it 500.

Which is 490 pounds more
than you were getting

for your last
theatrical engagement.

I'm not happy about this, David,

but there is no need
to be rude to Zoe.

My apologies.
Zoe, 500.

- Agreed.
- Gentlemen?

Agreed.

As long as there is no chance
of us being found out.

We'll have to find
a name for her.

Why? Zoe is a young actress,
who happens to be

my sister-in-law and asked me
to negotiate for her.

It's easy.
We just collect the money.

That's what they said
at Lehman brothers.

Ready?

Chris has asked me to go
for a drink with him.

I'll see you back at the house.

Yes, of course.

Good night.

♪ Do I see sparks...

Well, you wanted to ask me
for a drink, right?

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

We can go to my pub.
If that's okay.

A pint's a pint.

♪ But tonight, I feel
like breaking stride

♪ and I bet
you're glad I did

♪ because I think
you're beautiful

♪ stone-cold beautiful
icebox beautiful

♪ cool as a winter wave

♪ cool as the rocks
in the drinks

♪ that I'm gonna buy you...

It is quite something
you've taken on.

Are you sure you want
to go through with it?

I'm sure I want 500 quid a week.

I'm sure I'll be able
to pull it off,

and I'm sure it'll be a laugh.

I'm not sure you're sure.

No, I'm good with it.

I think. Just...
Have you read the book?

No, I'm some to read it tonight.

Give me a clue.
Is it really dirty?

Uh, yeah, pretty much so.

Go on, give me a teaser.

- What?
- Like, quote a line from it.

Oh, shit, no, I couldn't.

What? You're embarrassed?

No.

Well, a bit.

So, it's okay for you boys
to have loads of fun

writing your wet dreams but I'm
the one who has to mop them up?

I suppose so.

Because it's just all too dirty

and humiliating for you.

And for you.

That's what I meant when I asked
if you wanted to get involved.

Are you on duty
till closing time?

No.

Walk me home, then.

♪ So tell me about yourself

♪ what are you like?

♪ What are you into?

♪ What do you want
to do?

♪ Want to get
out of here?

♪ Want me to come
with you?

♪ You're beautiful

♪ stone-cold beautiful

♪ icebox beautiful

♪ cool as a winter wave

♪ cool as the water that
I'll pour ya in the morning

♪ it's just
gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh,
gentlemen talk

♪ to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh, gentlemen talk

♪ to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh
gentlemen talk

♪ to a real woman

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh, yeah...

Coffee and naughty biscuits.

And talking of naughty,
I loved your book so much.

That scene in the kitchen
with the food blender.

I'd always wondered what
the post function was for.

Yes, thank you, Matilda,
that will be all.

Bye.

I must say, miss fielder,

I had no idea about most
of what you portray.

The food blender,

is it...

All from personal experience?

Oh, I don't think
that's pertinent.

Miss fielder,
I have to warn you,

that publicizing this outre
little tale of yours

may involve similarly
impertinent questions.

Are you sure that you're
ready for this?

- Do I have an option?
- Not really.

For example, putting aside
the inevitable fascination

with the "tools of your trade,"

we've noticed stylistic
inconsistencies.

Yes, yes, it's as though
several writers

were involved in the narrative.

And each with their own
identifiable style.

Well, that's very
easy to explain.

Because this type of novel
is traditionally written

in the first person,
I wanted to see if I could

illustrate Th e various
contrasting

and yet complimentary
traits that make up

the rich complexity
of any human character.

And it seems I've succeeded.

Very impressive.

Indeed.

Let's do the paperwork
and get this show on the road.

Miss fielder, I'm not
convinced that varying

the narrative style, which
you have done in this book,

altogether works,
but it's certainly

a move away from the
norm for this genre.

Was this a conscious decision?

Four authors wrote this book.

Or, rather I had
four voices in my head.

Four different manifestations

of the same woman, if you like.

So you weren't trying
to redefine the form?

I was trying to redefine
my overdraft.

All right, that wraps things up.

Thank you very much, indeed,
for coming this evening

and asking so many
interesting questions.

Do stay, have a glass
of wine, buy a book,

and Zoe will be very happy
to sign your copy for you.

Thank you so much to Zoe
for coming along this evening.

Well, close shave.

- Is she pissed?
- Pissed off, I think.

It's a bit of a strain
doing these events.

Look, you've all seemed
to have got very chummy.

Chris, go and have
a word with her.

But surely you have to know
that would be the worst thing.

- He's right.
- Publicity tour finishes next week.

She's given us our share of the money.
Why don't we give her

another couple of months'
worth to keep her sweet?

- Money well spent, I'd say.
- Agreed.

Okay, well, thank you so much,
indeed, for coming, ladies.

I hope you enjoyed it.

There's another one
in a fortnight's time.

Clive Anderson' s written
a book about a talking badger.

We'll see you.

I know, I know,
I nearly blew it,

but, I tell you, it's getting
bloody difficult to keep this up.

I'm sure, and I think
you're doing amazingly.

Just hang in there.

People leave glasses anywhere.

You know what,
it's weirding me out

that the women that come
to these events...

And I mean it,
it's virtually all women...

And they see me as some sort of
voice for their own fantasies.

But isn't that why
these books are so popular?

Well, of course, but...

I mean, the readers

are kind of bonding
with the author,

another woman.
I just feel bad

that they're being exploited
by four dirty old men.

Thanks.

Sorry.

Three men in macs
and an apprentice.

I'm sorry you feel like that.

In fact, I'm sorry
we started the whole thing.

- Little gift for you, Annie.
- Thank you.

I was in the area,
so I thought I'd see

if you were slaving
over your copy.

I've been snooping at the crab
and lobster festival.

- Fascinating. Smelly, but fascinating.
- That's nice.

Now this Zoe fielder girl,
your sister-in-law, I believe.

- She is.
- Good.

So you shouldn't have any
trouble getting her to do

an interview tomorrow.

Oh, I don't think our
little online effort

- will be suitable for her.
- It won't be online.

We're bringing forward the
launch of the broadcast channel.

A local celebrity interview
should kick things off perfectly.

She's not really local.
There's no connection.

- Where is she living?
- With us.

She's local, we need a celeb.

Nelsa's dead and Delia's
unavailable.

Get to it.

There's nothing
to worry about, David,

that is as long as
your questions

- are properly organized.
- I think they are, yes.

It's no different to what you've
been doing for the web, really.

Well, actually, it is.

You were using
a poxy little DSLR

and we've got three high-definition
broadcast cameras,

which will reveal
your every blemish.

96 channels of sound.

Don't let your earpiece
fall out, whatever you do.

And a million quid's worth
of lights, and of course,

it's going out live,
but, other than that...

Okay, we're seconds away.

Relax. Enjoy yourselves.

Going to camera
one in five, four, three.

Welcome to this very first
edition of arts...

- Chat.
- Chat.

I'm thrilled to be talking
to the newest voice

in romantic literature,
Zoe fielder.

Thanks for coming
on the show, Zoe.

It's my pleasure.

So what made you write
"love let her,"

which critics say
redefines the genre,

but is currently banned
by at least six

of east Anglia's
mobile libraries?

You mean, "what on earth
made you write it?"

No, no, I'm sure
you had your reasons,

but it is very steamy stuff.

Well, I wrote it because I. Have a
ravenous appetite for “steamy stuff“

that just wasn't being
satisfied by the current crop

of cloying crap on the shelves.

My one desire in life is desire.

I mean, right now
it's all I can do

to keep my feeble
womanly mind from imagining

greasing a pair
of antique bellows.

- Shut her up!
- Shut up.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Okay.

Okay, let's get these
out of the way quickly,

shall we?

“Based on experience“? Well,
wouldn't you like to know?

"Literary merit"?
None, probably.

"Is it important"?
Well, the trick question.

“ Feminism .“ well, do 1
believe in women's equality?

Of course, I bloody do.

"Do true feminists like sex"?
Some do, some don't.

As long as those that don't
don't slag off those that do,

it's not an issue.

And "will I be
writing a sequel"?

Well, I'm not sure.
What do you think?

Well, I suppose it's down to
whether we dislike this book.

Exactly.

But if they do,
I have plans to write

many, many more books.

Watch this space.

And now it's time for a break.

Thank you, Zoe fielder,
for your very frank answers

and good luck with the book.

After the break...

One man's view
of artistic beauty.

Off air.

Not much I can do about that.

Just goes to show you
what happens when you have

an inexperienced presenter.

It was fine.

Just the sort of thing
to get people talking.

And here we are.
They're tweeting already.

"Go, Zoe, tell the guy."

"Yay! Girl with attitude.
Good for you."

"You're a disgrace
to the sisterhood."

Well, can't win 'em all.

I'm sorry, David. I don't
know what came over me.

Bullshit. You were just
flexing your muscles.

Maybe. Or maybe I was being
the type of feisty young woman

that TV audiences like.

You want them to believe I wrote
the damned book, don't you?

Of course, but I don't
want them to believe

there's a sodding
great library in the offering.

Come on, David. It's time for
your next insightful encounter.

Oh, bloody hell.

- This is Lilly.
- Come on, Lilly.

Personally, I liked
your performance.

Which, I suspect is what it was.

I was just trying to be honest.

Not always the best policy.

You need people on the side,

that's what these junkets
are all about.

Never burn Bridges
before they're built.

30 seconds and
into the next interview.

Stand by in the studio and someone
please find a dustpan and brush.

Oh, bloody hell.
Phil, try to clean this up.

Do you really have to go?

I have two more interviews
to do in London.

Which you may remember,
is where I live.

Then what?

And then back to the real world.

It's funny. I never thought I'd
think of acting as the real world.

- Will you come back?
- Will you come to London?

I've got a pub to run.

Thanks to you.

I could visit.

Then come and visit.

Look, I never asked,
but I assume

your contribution to the book
was the most hardcore stuff.

No, it was the least
hardcore stuff.

- The poetic bits?
- Yes, thank god.

You're really quite
prudish, aren't you?

I'm not prudish.

I...

- You again? Piss off.
- Oh, for Christ's sake.

To my friend over there,
you just ruined the most

romantic moment of my life.

Well, here's to our
youngest, naughtiest

and most lucrative author.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

And you're going to be
an even wealthier young lady.

Congratulations.

What's happened?

The publishers want you
to sign for three more books.

We're still negotiating
the advance,

but it will be well
into seven figures.

The film rights
have been snapped up.

We're going for a tiny advance

but a socking great percentage.

And the screenplay
is already underway.

Director's been booked,

and they start casting
next week.

What do I do?

Sign the contract
and enjoy yourself.

I need a little time.

It's a big ask.

Oh, it'll be fine.

If they rush release
the film and it's a success,

it'll put the price
of your publishing advance up.

Leave it to us.
You're in safe hands.

I can't believe this.
More about Zoe's book.

“Casting is underway for the film of
the latest mummy porn phenomenon,

'love let her.'

fans of the book
are already arguing

over who should play
the crucial roles

of the ultra smooth headmaster and
the object of his lurid fantasies.“

- I don't believe it.
- Mum, what's a "lurid fantasy"?

You're too young to understand.

And so are you, young lady.

I want to read
auntie Zoe's book.

- Where have you hidden it?
- Where you can't find it.

You can read it when you're
old enough to appreciate it,

by which time you'll probably
wonder what all the fuss was about.

I can't help wondering
that anyway.

Still, it won't hurt
Zoe's bank balance.

Will you just go!
We're late already.

Why does it always
have to be like this?

Quick, quick, quick,
quick, quick.

Bye, love.
Have a good day.

- Bye-bye, darling.
- Bye-bye, darling.

The dam that blocks my heart
is overflowing with emotion.

And my heart's full to bursting.

What are we going to... do?

You have to trust me.

Whatever I ask you to do,
it's for us.

What? Are you going
to ask me to do?

Oh, sauce. What are you
going to ask me to do?

Snow me how much you want me.

I'm a little scared.

Not half as scared as we are.

Thank you.
That was really great.

- But I read it wrong.
- Easily done.

Shall we look
at the breakup scene?

Page 90.

My heart is not a bargaining
chip for your cheap lies.

I can't afford...

Sorry. This is where
we need to feel real empathy

with the character.
You know, see some passion.

Imagine you're on the catwalk

and all the buyers suddenly
turn their backs on you.

Oh, right, right. Okay.

My heart is not a bargaining
chip for your cheap lies.

- I can't...
- I can't afford to sell myself at the love market.

The price is already rock bottom

and I wont slash it any further.

Is that what our
passion is worth?

That's just it.

In my mind the price
has skyrocketed

and the revenue tripled.
Can't you see that?

Let's take a break, shall we?

Look, I'm really, really sorry,

but I'm an actress
and I have really strong ideas

about how the words
should be spoken.

My words.

Well, that's fine.

Give us five minutes?

Thank you.

She's raw as hell, but she
can certainly access it.

She may be an actress, but I'm
afraid she's not on my radar.

She's not a friggin' missile.

- You did ask me to find big names.
- I did.

And you have.

The point is
do we pay a lot of money

for the latest trendy actress
or a lot less for someone

who's in the unique position

of actually having written
the original book?

I don't think
that's happened before.

Emma Thompson...
"sense and sensibility."

I think you'll find Jane
Austen had her hand in that.

So, do we have a go?

Well, the marketing people
will wet their knickers.

Give me a couple
of days with her.

So, you see, it wasn't just
David, it was all four of them.

I see. Why are you
telling me this?

Because it's
all just gone a bit nuts.

I mean, no one meant any harm,
I guess we did save the pub.

Oh, well, that's
impressive, then.

Please don't
be angry with David...

Or me.

I'm not very angry.

And I guess David, at least, gets
to write his novel, in a way.

I'm just out of my depth.

Me too, that's why
I had to call.

No you want all this?

You know it's a Faustian
pact, don't you?

Yes, I do.

And I think I can cope.

Jen, there's something else.

Isn't that your
sister-in-law there, David?

Looks like there's
no stopping her now.

I don't believe this.
How could she?

How could she what?

Degrade herself like this.

Well, presumably
she wants the job.

But she doesn't.

I'm going to London.

- Why?
- I don't know.

Well, "coup de Foudre."

- Yeah, thanks for that.
- What Justin means by that...

Yeah, I know what he means,
you smug gits.

In fact, I know what most of your
fancy literary allusions mean.

- I just let you enjoy patronizing me.
- Chris, we never-

it was a "coup de Foudre"
all those months ago.

Now I have to tell her.

♪ You pretty thing

♪ you pretty little thing

♪ let me take you home

♪ let me take you home

♪ and I swear
that every morning

♪ you'll wake up to the smell
of coffee and bacon

♪ oh, you silly thing

♪ you make me wanna laugh

♪ you make me wanna sing

♪ so I wrote this song

♪ about where we are

♪ where will we belong

♪ and I want you, baby

♪ I want you

♪ so I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby,
I got you

♪ yeah, I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby
I got you

♪ I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby

- ♪ I got you - ♪ I got
you, I got you, I got you

♪ I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine...

Oi!

Sorry.

Who the hell are you?

Trevor, call security, now!

Wait, wait, I'm sorry,
I'm sorry, I know him.

- Just give me two minutes.
- You got two minutes

- and then you're out of here.
- It's okay, everyone.

- So?
- You shouldn't be doing this.

And what the hell gives you
the right to make a judgment?

Nothing. Except what
I feel for you.

And what do you feel?

Doesn't matter now.

Look, I like you a lot,

but chances to star in a film
don't come along every day.

If you're talented, they do.

You don't need to...
You know, take your kit off,

- subject yourself...
- I'm not taking...

God, you don't know
anything, do you?

I mean, you wrote
the bloody book,

and now you're coming
over here all sanctimonious.

I kept my end of the bargain.
You keep yours.

Go back to your pub and let
me make something of my life.

But that's just it.

Do you really want
this kind of life?

Yes. I do.

I've got the taste
for money and fame

and I intend to get
very used to it.

- It's all right, I'm going.
- Good.

- Don't try this again.
- I won't.

Look son, she's acting.
That's all it is.

None of this is real.

No.

You're dead right, it's not.

Come on.

Quiet, please.
Check the shoot.

Anyone who isn't required,
leave the set now.

- We did.
- Okay.

- Take.
- Mark it.

God knows what your sir
Galahad encounter stirred up,

but she's now decided to sign
for another three books,

on terms rather
more favorable to her.

What's our share?

Five grand a book.

- Each?
- Between us.

- Good god.
- Shit.

Anyway, I wouldn't want it if
it were a hundred times that.

What we did was supposed
to be a bit of a laugh,

basically, to help Chris.

I just don't understand
what's happened to her.

It's obvious. She likes the high life.
And why shouldn't she?

We set her up for it.

Actually, I set her up.

We are so totally buggered.

If we don't write
the bloody thing

she'll be outing us to the press

quicker than you
can say "BDSM."

I still don't see why
we can't just own up,

get out of it.

Because I have spent
the last year

berating Jen
about her reading habits,

not to mention denouncing
in print and on screen

all things chick and mummy.

And despite 40 years
exemplary service,

the headmaster
will justifiably remove

my reputation,
pension, and testes.

Well, at least now that you're
retired, you can lie low.

I had lady Fermley-Cadwaller
asking me for my autograph today

on the basis
that I vaguely know Zoe.

Autograph...?

Autograph.

Gentlemen, I may have had
a brilliant idea.

Based on your previous
brilliant ideas,

I think that might loosely
count as an oxymoron.

Oh, well, strictly
speaking, of course,

it's not actually an oxymoron.

- I said, loosely.
- Cease and desist. Here's the plan.

- It's us.
- We only have a moment.

I left Jen in the boo... in the
boozer and she's fretting.

All you need to do is shove
one of these under Zoe's nose

as she swans down
the red carpet.

We just need one legible
signature from her

to attach to her
rescinded contract

- and our troubles are over.
- Or just beginning.

I'm sure it must be illegal.

She won't have the guts
to own up to being so dim.

What if she recognizes me?

That's why we have three tries.

- And if she won't sign it?
- She will.

They always do.

Zoe! Zoe!

Miss Zoe.

By the way, Chris,
I've been meaning to ask you,

what did Zoe write
in your autograph book?

"Men are
stupendously dim."

Never a truer word.

Jen, what the...
What are you doing here?

We've come to sign up
for the writers' group.

It sounds like you're doing

some jolly interesting
and thought-provoking stuff.

I wish you could see yourselves.

Like a bunch
of naughty schoolboys.

I'm not sure if I find
most insulting the fact

that you've been lying
to me all this time,

or that you think that
Geoffrey and I are so pathetic

we had to be excluded
from your silly game.

Well, we just didn't
want to upset you.

Oh, please.

- How did you find out?
- I've known for a while.

Zoe called me and she
was quite concerned.

So she bloody well should be.
Do you know what...

What the new deal was?
Yes, of course.

What you didn't know
is that she never signed it.

Why?

Maybe it was something you said.

Anyway, it's all academic now,

if one dare use that word
in this context.

Well, you're obviously
all so keen to indulge

your silly guilt you don't
know about the film.

What about it?

Well, apparently, it had
a great first weekend,

whatever that means, and then the
public decided it was drivel.

So, no money,
and no follow-up book deal.

But get this into
your thick heads.

Zoe decided it was all wrong
before the film tanked.

There was never gonna be
any more money.

We really didn't want the money.
Honestly, Jen.

I actually accept that.

But you'd better accept
that my lovely sister

is the only one of you who comes
out of this with any dignity.

Now how much money
do you have left?

About 900 quid.

Geoffrey, 900 quid.

Well, let's have a party.

♪ I got love,
I gotta say

♪ I got a big heartbeat
and it beats all day

♪ I got a sneaky
kinda feeling

♪ that we're gonna be
feeling good today

♪ and keep on lovin'

♪ and keep on lovin'...

Put it there.
Now we're playing!

♪ ...keepin' on,
keepin' on, yeah!

Hi.

Hi.

I'm sorry your film tanked.

It's not my film.

Look, I don't have a moral
problem with any of it.

And I'm sure
there's someone planning

the "next big chick hit"
as we speak,

but it wasn't real, any of it.

You know, 'I had two body doubles
for most of the filming?

One for boobs and one for bum.

And I left my sweet
supportive agent

for a big cheese who already
doesn't return my calls.

And it just wasn't fun.

What do actors do
when they're unemployed?

Have you got any vacancies?

Yeah.

♪ You sexy thing

♪ you don't even know

♪ how you shake me so

♪ you shake-a, shake-a,
shake me

♪ oh, when I speak

♪ I struggle with the words

♪ 'cause you take
my breath away

♪ take my breath away -
♪ tell me what you're thinking

♪ so let me sail on your
brainwaves, I'm your pirate

♪ cruising in your
airspace, I'm your pilot

♪ I'ma be
whatever you need

♪ 'cause that's exactly
what you do for me

♪ and I wrote it all down
in a little notebook

♪ just how I feel
right now

♪ and this
is how it sounds

♪ so, yeah,
I'll scratch your back

♪ and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I've got you, baby,
I got you, yeah

♪ I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby
I got you

♪ I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby,
I got you

♪ I got you, I got you,
I got you

♪ and I'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine

♪ I'll watch your back
when you walk the line

♪ I got you, baby,
I got you.

♪ I'm seeing double

♪ you must be a Gemini

♪ is it me,
or do I see sparks?

♪ Or is the light of your
disco-ball eyes

♪ the headlights
in the dark

♪ ooh

♪ no, I don't
come here a lot

♪ I don't usually ride
on these Cypher club vibes

♪ but, tonight
I feel like breaking stride

♪ and I bet
you're glad I did

♪ 'cause I think
you're beautiful

♪ stone-cold beautiful

♪ icebox beautiful

♪ cool as a winter wave

♪ cool as the rocks
in the drinks

♪ that I'm gonna buy you

♪ it's just gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk
to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk
to a real woman

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh, yeah

♪ my watch stopped,
so you must be a good time

♪ so tell me about yourself

♪ what do you like?

♪ What are you into?

♪ What do you want to do?

♪ Want to get out of here?

♪ Want me to come with you?

♪ You're beautiful

♪ stone-cold beautiful

♪ icebox beautiful

♪ cool as a winter wave

♪ cool as the water that
I'll pour ya in the morning

♪ it's just gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk to a lady

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh

♪ gentlemen talk
to a real woman

♪ gentlemen talk

♪ ooh, ooh, yeah.