All language subtitles for 013 - 02x04 - the hitch-hiker

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All my life, I have made it
an absolute rule

never to pass a hitch-hiker
at any time of day or night

without giving
him or her a lift.

Then, on a pouring-wet evening
in September,

just outside Oxford,

I picked up two
unhappy-looking young men

who were soaked to the skin.

Both had hair down to their
shoulders and bushy beards.

One of them said, as they
climbed into the back,

"What a relief.
Thank you so much."

Suddenly, I felt the point of
a knife pressing into my neck.

"Hey," I said. "Steady on."

"Get out," the knifeman said,
"and hurry."

I got out.

They drove off and left me
standing in the rain.

Since then, I have never given
a lift to any man with long hair

or with a bushy beard.

The hitch-hiker in this story
has neither.

[Bicycle bell rings]

DAHL: Paul Duveen had lived
in Britain for 15 years.

He was a writer...
a successful writer.

He liked living in Cambridge,

and he loved driving
rare automobiles.

[Car horn honks]

[Woman sings on radio,
then easy listening plays]

[No music on radio]

You wouldn't be going to
London, by any chance,

would you, sir?

Sure I would.
Hop in.

Uh-huh.
Thank you, sir.

Very kind.
That's OK.

You're a decent man.

All set?

It's a fine-looking
motorcar.

Mm-hmm.
Huh.

Brand-new, hmm?

Yeah. Pretty much.

I feel like
a 10-year-old kid

with a new toy,
you know?

Smells like
a thoroughbred.

What part of London
you headed for?

Well, I'll be going
out through London

out the other side.

Epsom.
Mm-hmm.

The races, you know.

Derby day, mister.

Oh, the derby!

Oh, I wish I was going
with you!

I'd love to put
a bet on the horses.

Oh, I never go
betting on horses.

I wouldn't even want
to watch them run, sir.

Huh. Why are you
going to the derby?

Uh...

Oh, you work the betting
machines, do you?

Betting machines?

Oh, no.
That's worse again.

No fun there.

Oh, I guess so.
I asked the wrong question.

Oh, you can ask
any question you like.

In your own domain-like.

But you don't have
to reply, huh?

Hmm.

Hey, wait a minute.

Are you one of those,
um, buskers?

You know, entertain
the crowds,

soft shoe shuffle,
stuff like that, eh?

Can you imagine me
running around

with a mouth organ?

Or banging me knees
with a spoon?

Ha. Well, frankly,
I can. Yeah.

Excuse me, mister.

Uh, would you mind
letting me out here?

What?
Well, listen,

would you just draw in
here, please?

What are you
talking about?

What did I say?

Thank you.
Thank you.

Now, come on.
I'm sorry.

No, no, no.
I--

Look, I couldn't be
bothered riding along

with a fellow that
thinks so little of me.

Aw, now, come on.
Huh?

I don't think
little of you.

No.

I said I was sorry.
Yeah.

Well--

Well, look, I really am sorry.
Now, listen.

It's none of my business.
I won't ask any more questions.

OK?
[Car passes]

We--No, really.

I remember when I used
to hitch-hike.

You know, I couldn't
stand being cross-examined.

"Who are you?
What do you do?

Where are you from?"
You know.

I won't ask
anymore questions.

You see, the trouble is
I'm a writer.

And you know how
writers pry, right?

It's just, I'm curious
about people, OK?

Uh, a nosey parker.

Isn't that what
the British call it?

Oh, I wouldn't know.

I'm from Donegal.

See, I'm no expert
in the language

of Cromwell.

OK.
Excuse me, just--

But did you say
a writer, are you?

Well, yeah.
I write books.

Oh, aye.

Anyway, I apologize
again. I'll--

Just a minute, now.
Ha. [Sighs]

No. Let's--

I--I accept
your apology.

Oh, I'm glad.
Hmm.

You say you
write books?

Yeah.

You know, that's
a skilled trade.

Oh, thank you.
Of course,

mine's a skilled
trade, too.

You know,
I always say that

the whole secret
of life is to get to be

very, very good
at something

that's very,
very hard to do.

[Chuckles]

Yeah. You've accomplished
that, have you?

Uh, aye. Well, I'd say
I had. Yes.

Like yourself, sir.
Uh-huh.

70. Nice, huh?

Yeah.

It must have cost you
a tidy bit,

this motorcar, huh?

It wasn't cheap.

Driving a good car--
my one indulgence, I guess.

Cut her--I mean,
what would she be

capable of, now?

I mean, how many
revolutions per minute

flat out?
This?

129 to make its claim.
129 miles an hour.

Aw, you'd never believe
that for a yarn, would you?

Sure she will.

They make a beautiful
machine, these people.

Look at that.
Heh.

129 miles an h--
Ah, she'd never do that.

No. I know. No, no.

I'll bet you
anything you like

she wouldn't.

Well, I bet she will.

Aw, no.
Not at all.

All these car
manufacturers.

They're all
bloody liars,

every one of them.

And I'm surprised,
you know.

A smart fellow
like you,

you know, believing
all that jazz.

Well, in this
instance, I do.

Do you?
Yeah.

Yeah, well, prove it.

I dare ya.
Do ya?

Aye.

Fasten your seat belt.

Aye.

With pleasure, mister.
With pleasure.

Ah, that's beautiful.
Beautiful.

You all set?
All beautiful.

Oh! Oh!

Eh. 100.

[Stammers]

She's hit it.

110...115...go.
Go on, go on.

Keep going.
Keep going.

Plenty more
where that came from.

[Honking horn]

[Chuckles]
120...

125.

Oh, 12--
[Speaking Gaelic]

What?

Oh, that's Irish.
God bless the world.

Oh, no!
Yeah. Yeah. What?

Oh, look.
Aw, shit.

Ah, no.
No, no, keep going.

Keep going.
You can lose him.

Of course you can
lose him.

Oh...

Oh, I don't know.

I give up.

You could have--

DUVEEN: Why did I
ever listen to you?

Why?

Well, because you're
a good gambler, sir.

That's why.
You're a good gambler.

Didn't know a motorcycle
cop could do 110.

Oh, he could. Just so.
He could, indeed.

You see,
his motorbike is

the same make
as your motorcar.

Only it fizzles out
at 112.

If you'd have
kept going,

you'd have been OK.

Look at him.

This is real trouble.

Yeah.
Ah, well, sir.

It's only your
first offense,

isn't that right?

Oh, oh. He's a real
mean-looking devil.

Want to watch out.

[Man hums]

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

Oh, sorry.

What's your hurry?

No hurry, officer.

You mean you don't
have a lady in the back

who's having
a baby?

No. Obviously not.

But your house
is on fire,

and you're
dashing home

to rescue
your family, eh?

No.

Then perhaps
you're carrying

urgent medical supplies
to a hospital, perhaps.

No.

I see.

You hold a current
British driving license?

Oh, sure I do,
officer. Yeah.

It's just that you sound
American to me...sir.

Well, I am.
[Chuckles]

Perhaps you can claim
diplomatic immunity.

Ha ha ha ha!
N-no. Heh.

I wish I could.

Then I'm not wasting
my time, am I?

You are aware of
the speed limit

in this country,
of course?

[Thunder]

70.

Of course.

Do you mind
telling me what speed

you were doing just now?

W-well, I was a little
over that, I know.

That's putting
it politely, sir.

I passed you
at 112 miles an hour.

[Stammers]
1-1-2.

And that's not a speed
I care to drive at, sir.

Except in the course
of duty, that is.

Do you mind getting
out your vehicle, sir?

What?

I must caution you, sir,
that anything you say

may be taken down--

and used in evidence
against me. I know.

Yeah.

Could I see your
driving license, sir?

Oh, sure, officer.
Yeah.

That's funny.

Uh, mister.

Ooh! You left it in
the glove department.

Here. Take it, sir.
Quick.

Don't know what
I'm doing.

Ha. Right, sir.

I do hate these little
plastic envelopes.

Yeah.

Well, well, well.
Two convictions already.

And one of them's
an SB-60.

You make a habit of
exceeding the speed--

That was--that was
a couple of years ago.

Well, you're gonna lose
your license for 12 months.

You know that, don't you?

That's up to
the magistrate, isn't it?

Not with two endorsements
already; it's automatic.

Not to mention, this third
offense took place

on a motorway.

Now, we do take a very firm
line about excess speeds

on a motorway.

The last bloke I booked on
this same stretch of motorway

got 5.20 pounds for every mile
he was over the speed limit.

No kidding.

Now, you were 42 miles
over the limit.

You can work that out
for yourself.

Well, it's
well over �800, huh?

Right.

Could I have your
full name, sir?

Uh, Duveen.

Paul.

George.

Thank you, sir.

Now you.
Who are you?

Well, he's all right.
I picked him up.

He's hitch-hiking; he's got
nothing to do with this.

I didn't ask you.

Well, what have--
what have I done?

You're a witness,
if nothing else.

Out you get.

[Chuckles]

You're a hard man,
mister.

You know that?
You're a hard man.

Look, I don't see
what all the fuss is.

I do my job, sir.
Aye.

Why don't you get back
in your vehicle, sir.

Recover your breath,
as it were.

This won't take
a minute.

All right.
Let's have your full name.

Michael O'Brien Fish.

Address?

14 Gladstone Road.
Royston.

Occupation?

Unemployed.

Herder.

Hog courier.

Don't get funny with me.

I'm not getting
funny with you.

That's the truth.
I'm on the welfare.

You've only got
to ask.

Oh, I shall.
I'm gonna check you out.

Shall I--Look,
I've done nothing.

What have I done?
[Stammers]

I just don't like
your face, that's all.

You bloomin' person.

We must have a record
of it on file somewhere.

Well, I don't like
your attitude. No.

It's most--
most insulting.

Now, here am I just
getting a lift

from this nice,
kind gentleman.

Excuse me, mister.
Are you--

All right.
Enough said.

Listen, don't you
lay a hand on me.

If you--Look, don't you
lay a hand on me.

In you get!

You saw that,
didn't you?

No, that constitutes
an assault.

So I'm reporting you,
boy.

I am going
to report you.

Aye. Are you?

And this gentleman
is my witness.

Wrong.
You are my witness

to a very serious
offense.

Oh.

I'll see you both
in court.

Good morning.

Well, there
he goes now.

Mean as a knacker's
yard, a regular--shit.

A regular peacock.

DUVEEN: �800 and a suspended
license for a year.

Thought this was gonna
be a good day.

And you, with two
endorsements already.

Oh, that's bad.
No, that's bad.

My license.

Did I really leave it
in the glove compartment?

Did I?

Well, I think
you must have.

I think you must have.

[Starts engine]

Uh, tell us, what are
you thinking of doing now?

I'm thinking of getting off
this cop-infested motorway

and finding us a place
to dry off.

Oh.

[Sighs]
Well...

Better luck
next time, old fella.

Yeah.

Why don't you take
your wet coat off.

No, no.
That's all right.

You know, I told him
a bit of a lie.

Darn policeman.

'Cause I'm not
unemployed.

I'm going to be
very busy this afternoon

and tomorrow, too.

Ah, yeah.
That's right.

At the derby.

You writer fellas.

You're such a pack of
nosy parkers, you know that?

You know, I know
you'll never be satisfied

till I come out
with what I do.

Isn't that so?

Not really.
It's up to you.

Go on.

You're just itching
to know.

Nah. Can tell by
the look on your face.

Not--not really.

Look, drink up and
let's get out of here.

Come on. We're dry.

[Stammers]

You're in
a desperate hurry.

Doesn't pay
to hurry, you know.

No, it doesn't.

That's why I'm gonna
drive very, very slow.

Now, come on.
Come on.

Hold hard, now.
Hold hard.

You're not drunk,
are you?

On two whiskies?

Irish.
English measures.

[Sighs]

Oh, boy.

Lord only knows what
my wife's gonna say.

That was quick.

Ah, you noticed it,
did you?

Well, sure I did.
That's fascinating.

I never saw anybody
roll a cigarette that fast.

Fingers.
Uh-huh.

Yeah, uh-huh.
I know the joke.

Fish fingers.

Look, you see them
fingers there. Huh?

You wouldn't think
it to look at them,

but there the quickest,
thickest fingers

you ever seen
in your life, boy.

Are you a concert
pianist?

My job's 100 times
more difficult

than piano playing.

Any fool can
learn the piano.

Well, I can tell you,
not 1 in 10 million

can learn to do
what I do.

I'm telling you, boy.

You've been telling me.
I heard you.

Oh, I'm telling you,
boy.

I got it.

You're a kind of
amateur magician.

[Chuckles]

You're a card player,
aren't you?

You're a card shark, eh?

Now I know you're
insulting me.

All right,
then I give up.

Ever seen this before?
Hmm.

Looks the same as mine.
Where'd you get that?

Uh...

Took it off the top
of your trousers.

Heh. You took that
off me while I was driving?

Uh, why wouldn't I?

You undid the buckle,
and you slid it through

all the loops
while we were driving?

[Scoffs]

Uh...

Well, seeing's
believing.

Hmm.

What about this,
then?

What about it?

Is anyone around here
missing a shoelace,

I wonder.

Did you mind that time
that I missed me step

coming out of
the pub-like?

Yeah, I remember.
I didn't see anything.

Ah, well, no,
I know you didn't.

Well, you weren't--
you weren't meant to.

Just--it's fingers,
you know.

Fingers.
All from the fingers.

Hmm. What's the time now?
What's the time?

The clock's right there
in front of you!

Ah, no. I hate
them car clocks.

No, I like to get
the right time,

you know, off
a decent gold watch.

Like this, now.

Isn't that
a beauty, huh?

Isn't that a beauty?

Do you know what,
you could flog that

anywhere, couldn't you?
Fish!

Put the watch down!

Aye.

Hey.

What are you
stopping for?

What else have you
got of mine?

A joke's a joke. Come on.
What else have you got?

Look, I'm only answering
your question, mister.

You asked me what
I did for a living,

and here I am--
I'm showing you.

What else have you
got of mine?

Are you a policeman?

I'm not a policeman,
but if you don't show me

what--

Special delivery.

OK, now get out.

Out? Me? Out?

You. Out.

Out. I don't give rides
to pickpockets.

If you want to know,
I'm a fingersmith.

A what?

A finger--a professional
fingersmith.

You know,
like a goldsmith

or a silversmith.

And I can tell you
I follow my own

professional
code of honor.

I always gives back
items of no use to me.

Oh, you mean, you're
Robin Hood working

the racetrack?

Look, I--I know what you
must be feeling, mister.

'Cause it wasn't
a very good morning

for you, was it?

Well, it's still out.
Come on. Fingersmith.

I mean, what with me
making you go over

the speed limit
and the police and all.

And now you're disapproving
of my vocation-like.

Exactly.
Now, get out!

[Stammers]
Out. Out, I said.

That's--oh, dear.
Isn't that...?

Very funny.

I couldn't resist it.
Out!

That's no fun, there.

You know, you're--

Would you give me
me hat, please?

Here.

You know, you're
a hard man, mister.

You're worse than
darn policeman.

Yeah, and he's checking
on you right now.

Oh, no, no.

Nobody's checking
on me, mister.

He's got your name
and address, Fish.

Uh...

He wrote it all down
in his little black book.

Aye, well, wait
till you see, now.

What about this, sir?
[Clears throat]

"Michael O'Brien Fish.
14 Gladstone Road.

Royston. Unemployed."
Them's my particulars.

Now here's your
particulars, you see.

"When cautioned,
Mr. Duveen replied..."

You took that
from a cop?

Oh, it was easy.
It was dead easy.

Good Lord.

But he'll remember our names,
registration numbers...

Ah, no, no.

He won't remember it
because he wrote it down.

You see, he won't
remember because

he didn't think
he'd have to.

Now do you see?

I--I don't know.

Ah, well, I do.

'Cause I've been
booked before, you see,

and I always took
the wee book.

Never heard a word
after.

Well, I'll tell you
what now, I think

the two of us
should get out here,

and we build a wee
bonfire and burn

all them things.

And then after-like,
if you insist,

I'll walk, you know.

Oh, no, no.
No, no no.

If you want, I'll walk.
I don't mind.

Really. Ha ha. No.
R-right. Right.

Bonfire.

[Duveen laughs]

Brilliant, Fish.
Brilliant.

Yeah. How, you know,
it's nice to be appreciated.

Well, that's...
All right. Ha ha.

Hey, Fish.
Yeah.

Wh-what if
it doesn't burn?

I mean, it's starting
to rain again.

Yes, but if you could
get just a few dry twigs.

Dry twigs.
Dry...

[Bicycle bell rings]

Dry twigs.

[Chuckles]

That...

[Cries]

He couldn't resist it.

[Crying]

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