Original subtitles

The Jewish Enquirer.

Barry Stubbs and Son.

And you want to spend the day with me?

Well, working with you.

For a story?

-Yeah. -Well, can you lay bricks?

Well, give it a go.

Oh, yeah, that's a great excuse for when the

client's loft conversion collapses in because of you.

Come off it.

You know, brick, bit of cement,-slap-slap, put it on, smooth it off, next.

It's like making jam sandwiches.

Oh, yes, just like that.

I could help the guy with his, er, his watching over there.

Watching?

Yeah, watching the cement mixer.

Oh, he's making the cement.

The mixer is making the cement.

He's just watching. I mean, look, he's barely moved.

There you go, picture in the paper, bit of free PR.

This is Sam.

If you're a journalist and this is about a late invoice payment, fuck off.

We're still in a pandemic.

Otherwise, leave a message.

Hey, it's Paul.

So look, I managed to get a day with a builder

tomorrow, which is great, but if you want to get that

gardening competition thing written up by tonight,

you're gonna have to give me the name of the three winners, like, ASAP.

Oh, and, uh, could you please, PLEASE pay last month's invoice?

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Oh!

Owie!

Yes, my turn.

Right, lunchtime, Joshy.

-What? -Hang on, it's my turn.

At the table, please.

It's too hot right now, it's going to burn his mouth.

At the table, please.

Last chance, Joshy.

Why are you making two dinners?

I'm not.

That's bolognese for tomorrow.

It's called thinking ahead.

Women do it all the time.

Oh, right. And that's why you're single.

Yeah, you can stop the invoice.

Good news about the builder and I've got my gardening top three.

Go on. 87 is first, 37 is second and 19 is third.

19?

-Yeah. -You sure about that?

Yes, I'm fucking sure.

Naomi? Mm-hmm. Congratulations, you have

just come third in the gardening competition.

Shut up, have I really?

Take your speakerphone, your sister can't win.

I didn't win, I came third.

Not happening.

You chose my garden.

My readers will complain.

They're Jews.

It's not against the terms and conditions.

This may come as a surprise, but there aren't any fucking terms and conditions.

Oh, do you really think anyone gives a sufficient toss

about your inconsequential little paper and its 300 readers?

What about the website?

Yeah, I included those.

That prize is mine.

Thank you.

-No. -Mine. -Can't.

Can't. Can you take that lid off, please?

First I give you a doggie some sort of consolation prize.

Joshie, third prize is a fucking consolation.

Chill, relax.

Oh.

Go, go, go!

Did you get me a picture?

Did you get me a picture?

Oh my God.

What the fuck?

You said take the lid off.

I said the pan.

No, you said lid.

-I said pan. -She said lid.

I heard her say that. Even if I did say lid, which I

didn't, you didn't take the lid off, you took the thing off.

What do you mean thing?

The thing, the thing, the thing that goes round.

And when it goes round, you turn the gas off.

Well, turn the gas off, take the thing off.

I didn't, well, either.

Anything apart from taking off the actual fucking thing that goes round.

The nodule.

You never take the fucking nodule off.

-Fuck! -Fuck! -You know what?

I don't know what's going on there. I'll talk about it later.

Fuck.

What?

What?

What?

The jeans?

I'm updating my wardrobe.

Get inside before you're sectioned.

Oh, for God's sake.

What's that smell?

It's bolognese, long story.

Jesus Christ, man, you've got side boob.

Oh, no.

Is that good? Yeah, on Cape Beconsail it's good.

On you, it's a wardrobe malfunction.

How do you invent all these childish terms?

Women who work on the daily mail strip of shame.

Just don't put some cords on.

So you know you run that Gardner competition in the Jewish Monitor?

No.

The Tribune?

-No. -Try again.

Use your word.

The Enquirer!

-There you go. -Good.

Well, Naomi won third prize, but Sam's overruling it.

Says it's nepotism.

Can I have a hand here?

Yes.

So she came third, but he won't let her come third?

Yeah. Says it'll come across as biased.

So what's he doing?

He's cancelled it.

What, the whole thing?

-No. -Just third.

Oh, right.

Yeah, still, that's not fair.

I mean, why'd she come second?

What's she going to give up? First and third?

-Eh? -I don't know.

Why'd she come first?

-Eh? -What about that? -Yeah.

Just going to give up second and third?

It's ridiculous.

Why are you getting so worked up?

But it's just not fair.

She's threatening to sue the paper.

If she wins, I get fired.

So?

It's my job.

Hardly.

Look, look, here's the thing.

She's agreed to go along with whatever decision you make.

You want me to adjudicate between you and your sister?

Yeah.

You're more stupid than I thought.

Better?

Ah, there he is.

Retired lawyer.

Do you reckon I'll take all this stuff back?

Where'd you get them from?

A place in Camden Market.

You went to Camden Market?

Full of Belgian teenagers.

Yeah, you're fucked.

The garden's looking nice, though.

-Is it? -Mm. -Oh, good.

Very similar to number 87.

87?

Yeah, the winner.

Some guy called Gronnie.

Mm-hmm.

Yeah, Gronnie Rean.

Oh, fuck's sake.

What?

Gronnie Reen.

Reen.

Gronnie.

Reen.

If I'd entered as Ronnie Green, your editor would have ruled me out.

Of course he would. I can't have the family coming in first and third.

Well, there is no third.

Come on, let me come first.

Let Gronnie come first.

What, you would willingly sacrifice your own daughter?

This isn't Troy.

Come on.

You know what first prize is, don't you?

Yeah, two tickets to the Chelsea Flower Show.

And a picture of the garden with said winner on the front page.

I'm not interested in a picture.

It's not like you have a choice in the matter.

Don't I?

I spent ages cultivating those rhododendron.

I think Mum did, actually.

Well, I paid the mortgage.

Yeah, but she watered them.

I was the breadwinner.

-So? -She left me!

All right, just...

just calm down.

It's my garden now.

That prize is mine.

All right, well, if you can get Naomi not to sue the paper, then maybe...

maybe...

me and Gronny have a deal.

No.

No.

Hmm.

This isn't...

Are you sure this isn't paint?

It's all-purpose liquid.

Does that mean it's paint? Do you know what that is?

Kalk?

Kalk.

-Kalk. Yeah, kalk. -Kalk?

You've never heard of kalk?

I think it's for kalking.

-Oh. -You know...

-Kalk. -Kalk. -Super grout.

Is that a type of paint?

I would say it's grout.

It's in a... It looks like it's a paint thing.

Jewish Enquirer headline about Barbra Streisand becoming vegetarian.

Don't know.

-Lentil. -Terrible.

-Thank you. -Terrible. -Thank you.

Thank you.

OK, how about this?

Jewish Enquirer headline about an

incontinent horse who wins the Grand National.

Piddler on the hoof.

-Thank you very much. -Nice, nice, nice.

Jewish Enquirer headline about a famous cellist who

breaks a string during an Israel fundraiser concert.

No idea.

Oi, oi, yo, yo.

Oi, oi, yo.

That's unbelievably obscure.

Well, look at this place.

I mean, who knew? Yeah. Right, where's the paint?

Hi, can I help you?

Yes, hello.

We're looking for some paint.

What kind of paint?

White.

What kind of white?

Well, a white-coloured white.

Emulsion, matte, eggshell?

Oh, well, it's the cover of a patch on a kitchen ceiling.

Emulsion.

Emulsion. Emulsion. That's a very nice mask.

Thanks.

It's made from one of my old bras.

You sure it's what?

I mean, unless you have an identical one.

I do, actually.

God, it's pathetic, isn't it?

Blindly following rules because of some boffins who don't believe in freedom.

Cute as a button.

You're right, Harry Styles, reign it in.

I wouldn't go there, I think she's anti-vax.

No, seriously.

Here we are.

Great.

Oh, God.

Is there a brush you'd recommend?

A roller would be better.

Roller. Roller, definitely. Yeah, this one looks pretty good.

I'd recommend this one.

It's stronger.

How high's your ceiling?

About twice me.

You'll need a pole.

So, do you think people should be taking your recommendations?

People like you?

Well, you're on commission. You're the one that stands to benefit.

I mean, you could have very easily put a

chip in my brain as I walked in the door.

You're a conspiracy theorist.

Wait, what? No, you're a conspiracy theorist.

I'm confused.

I'm anti-vax.

Well, I'm confused and I'm pro-vax.

Does this come in anything smaller?

No.

Oh. So, you're happy to go along with any old shit you're told by,

let's say, for example, a bunch of self-interested pharmaceutical companies.

Say I told you that I'd read, that reaching with a

brush might hurt your back or it might make you infertile.

All right, say, for example, that someone's cousin, who's

read in a scientific journal somewhere, that using a pole

is unnecessary, and then that cousin has told someone, has

told someone, has told someone, has told me that I

shouldn't be taking pole advice from someone who wears a bra or is a mask.

We should all be working on behalf of the common good.

Yep.

Nah. What, you don't believe in the common good?

No.

That's a bit selfish, isn't it?

Yeah.

Dust sheets? No, we don't need dust sheets.

Perhaps you could show me some dust sheets?

Do you have an account?

No.

This is a trade shop.

That's how we keep prices down.

Yes, but I have money.

Money I would very much like to use to buy these goods.

We only sell to trade.

I've got a number.

Sorry.

OK, wait, wait, wait.

Quick.

We've got a number.

Are you a trade?

Er, no, no.

Actually, you know what, I've changed my mind.

I'm not going to get in if that's OK.

-Sorry. -On all of it?

Yeah.

Kendra to checkout, please.

What are you doing?

She's going to have to put all that back.

Oh, no, you know what?

I am going to get it.

Of course I am. Not if you're not trade, you're not.

OK, just one minute.

One minute.

Barry Stubbs and son, Lofts and Extensions.

That's us.

Who's the son?

I am.

-He is. -He's adopted.

43 quid for a bloody anti-vaxxers phone number.

Okay, well, if you think my average relationship is, what, three months?

So 43 divided by 3, that's less than 15 pounds.

15 divided by 4 is less than 3 pounds.

3 divided by 7 days, that's less than 50p.

50p a day.

Bargain.

Go in the middle more.

That's it.

Just bigger.

Absolutely exhausted.

Absolutely done and spent.

Move out the fucking way.

Come on, love.

God, yeah, I bloody love this smell.

Really?

Well, Mrs. wouldn't agree.

Really?

It's like the very essence of masculinity.

You know, Hugo Boss should make a wet tarmac aftershave.

-What? -How's it going?

I don't know. I'll ask him. My editor wants to know how I'm doing.

Tell him you're the best Jewish manual labourer for a day I've ever seen.

Ha!

He says... He gives some good pictures.

And if he takes cash, anything todgy, anything, let me know.

I've already got a great headline.

Oh. Tell me. Then you'll find out it's above your pay grade.

You wanna go?

Is it easy?

Piece of piss.

All right, just back and forwards, don't

be scared, just back and forwards.

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So, how's your morning gone?

Oh, it's been great!

Do you know, more people like me should spend

time doing something a bit more working class.

Oh, I'm not working class.

Oh, sorry, I didn't mean any offence.

No, I know you didn't, but I'm not working class.

Noted.

So how would you like to be described in the article?

Skilled labourer.

Skilled?

OK.

Uh, Sandra?

-Hello, love. -Any usual, please?

-Mm-hm. -Hi, Sandra.

Um, do you have any smoked salmon?

Is it on the menu?

Well, I can't see it.

I wonder why.

Oh.

Um, I'll just have the fish fingers and chips, then.

Mm-hm. Would you like smashed avocado with that?

Wow, you've got smashed avocado?

No.

But I could get someone to cover me, take the bus to

Tesco's, buy an avocado and then run back here,

bouncing it up and down on the pavement on the way back and feel it.

Yeah, just the fish fingers, then.

So, anyway, going back to the skilled thing.

You see, I did your job today, and I've had no

training at all, so I would say, at best, that's semi-skilled.

Yeah, shoveling the tarmac, that's semi-skilled, but not driving a steamroller.

OK, well, agreed. Well, the tarmac shoveling is

semi-skilled, and the steamroller driving is...

Skilled.

-Skilled. -Skilled. Skilled.

OK.

Is there such a thing as a no-skilled labourer?

Sorry?

Well, hypothetically, say you're at an airport, you've

got the air traffic controllers at the top that's,

like, very highly skilled, then pilots, highly

skilled, and then below that, you've got check-in staff, stewards.

I mean, they all need trainings.

That's, what, semi-skilled?

Right.

And then below that, you've got just the guys

that, you know, chuck your luggage on a carousel.

There's no skill involved in that, is there?

You know, it's just pick up a bag and bung it on, isn't there?

You know, just pick and bung.

Just pick and bung.

Pick, bung, yeah?

There's no skill there.

Yeah. So what would you call being a journalist for a Jewish newspaper, then?

You know, trained on the job, so no skill, then.

The lady from 27 Parsons Drive will give you that.

Oh, thanks, Sandra.

Pick and bung.

Oh, shit.

-What? -Shit, I lost my phone.

It must be in the high-vis.

-Oh, sorry. -Sandra! -Sorry.

Can I get this as a takeaway?

Sorry.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My ceiling fucking stinks to high heaven, when are you coming to fix it?

Just as soon as I'm done here.

Have you got the right paint?

Yes, white emulsion and rollers.

Sorry, I've got another call coming in.

Hello?

How's it going?

OK, well, he definitely takes cash.

We've got a much bigger problem.

What? The gardening competition, um, at number 37.

Oh, God, it's your garden, isn't it?

That turned out to be a woman who lives in Florida.

What?

-Yeah. -Yeah, Florida. -Yeah.

Well, does it look like England?

Yeah, but there are a few palm trees.

What? You gave second place to a garden with palm trees?

Fucking global warming, didn't I?

I thought it was fucking global warming.

-Oi! -You sniffing the tarmac?

Phone's stuck.

Oh, Jesus H.

Christ, you really fucked up my path.

Can we get it out?

Well, don't we just have to go over that bit?

-What? -That's an iPhone. -So?

It's not like some crappy old Nokia or a Samsung.

So, can we get it out?

-We? -We? -Can you get it out?

I'd say that's highly skilled, that.

All right, fine.

I'll say you're a highly skilled labourer in the article.

Shall I get a trowel?

-Hi. -Hey, Joshy.

Grandpa been shopping for you?

Mm-hm.

All right, give me your hand.

Go on, in you go.

We'll just tea anyone

-Mm-hmm. -Okay.

All right, yeah, I'm gonna need a chair.

Yes, help yourself.

No pressure then.

Okay.

Oh, good so far.

Come on, you bastard.

Now what?

Rawr.

Is that the new iPhone 15?

I got another headline.

A toy for dyslexic Jewish kids.

-Simon. -Yo-yo.

Oi-oi. Yeah, along with all that other rubbish you brought, did you get a poll?

You just said you wanted the Roller and Pace.

Yeah, well, I was wrong.

Always listen to a cute woman, even if she's a nutter.

Ain't no stopping.

OK.

Has he started yet?

Can't wait to see this, my son the painter and decorator.

Right, won't be long.

Oh, where's he going?

Where you going?

Oi, Banksy!

Speak.

Boris sent you back, did he?

I need a pole.

Course you do.

I recommend that one.

Victoria's Secrets must really love you.

It's not mine.

It was my auntie's and she died last night.

Well, I'm sorry for your loss.

Yeah.

Still, lesson learned, eh?

What?

About the vaccine. I'd rather die than have Bill Gates controlling my movement.

Why on earth would Bill Gates want to control a shop assistant in Whetston?

To make money.

He has money.

You could really get on my tits.

Don't worry about that. I'll leave that to Triple Jab Simon.

Thank you.

Ooh, that's $34.99.

Good choice.

Oh, great, you got the pole.

-Phew. -Yeah, go on, go through.

Decorators here.

And all done.

Hang on, I missed a bit.

He's eight.

That is...

bath time.

Ooh, suit smells nice.

Oh, thank you.

So, Naomi.

Yes?

Don't sue the paper.

What? Don't sue the paper, and I'll split first prize with you.

You entered.

I won.

You've got a fucking gardener.

So?

What, you've got a gardener?

Yeah, the prize is for the garden, not the person who did the gardening.

Come on, look, we'll go to the Chelsea Flower Show together.

No way.

You can't win if you've got a gardener, which means Florida woman came first.

Wait, who the fuck's Florida woman?

She's a woman from Florida.

No, I came first.

-You didn't. -I did.

I bloody did.

I bloody did. You didn't.

OK, may I? In your bloody garden where you came first.

-May I? -May I? -No one cares.

All right?

No one cares about your rhododendrons or your rosemary or your compost.

It's a shitty story in an even shitter newspaper.

I mean, there's racism going on out there of

wars, poverty, sexism, cancer, a mental health crisis.

And here I am, judging a gardening competition

between two Jews and their fucking hydrangeas.

And the Florida woman.

I just want to fuck off as well.

You can fuck right off and all.

Joshie, you need it?

You know where the paint is.

pfft

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Jesus fucking Christ.

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Top-notch journalism.

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Yeah, let's go.

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