All language subtitles for Are.You.Being.Served.S06E04.Shedding the Load.en

♫ Ground floor perfumery,
stationary and leather goods,

♫ Wigs and haberdashery,
kitchenware and food going up,

♫ First floor telephones,
gents ready-made suits,

♫ Shirts, socks, ties, hats,
underwear and shoes going up,

There must be something
in there. Keep on trying.

If I'd known my body was
going to last this long,

I'd have treated it better.

I'll get my other machine.

Now, Mr. Grace, Mr. Grace,
can I send down a stop

for another pair of tights?
Well, I mean, I've just

caught these on my desk
and I've leaded them. Look.

Well, that's incredible.

I've never seen that happen before.

No, but it's encouraging.

Yes, it is, Mr. Grace.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Rumbold.

Excuse me, Mr. Grace.

Here are the final figures for the month.

I'm afraid they are much
worse than I feared.

But, I would point out
that they are commensurate

with the general trend in the trade.

I put it down to uneasiness
in the Middle East,

the weakening dollar, plus the fact that

Carter has not come up to expectations.

Yes, is Carter in bedding?

- No, sir, Jimmy Carter.
He's running the USA.

Oh, yes, you mean the
underbuyer for sportswear

and accessories. Well, if he
doesn't come up to scratch,

you'll have to tell him he's got to go.

These figures are very bad, aren't they?

Yes, sir but I'm sure
there's some very good reason.

Yes, when I was in the fish trade,

we always used to say
that when a fish was bad,

the head went wrong first.

Who's in charge of this department?

Who's in charge? I am, sir.

Oh, you had any headaches lately?

So, anyway, this time I
promise my mother faithfully

I'd give it up altogether.

It's not an easy decision
to make, Mr. Humphries.

- Oh, torture, Mr.
Lucas! Anyway, "Ben Hur"

was on the television, so I thought,

well, that'll take my mind off
it for a four or five hours.

It had just gone 12 o'clock.
I couldn't contain myself

any longer, so I took
my boxing gloves off.

You'd lost the battle then, hadn't you?

Precisely, my hand fitted
straight into the sweet jar.

Do you know within five
minutes, I've scarfed the lot.

Thank you so much, madam.

Anyway, I was so upset that
Mrs. Axelby came with me

to the police station. Well, I
couldn't have got a word out.

Do you know, it must've
been awful for you.

Oh, it was. Well, Mrs. Axelby could

see the state I was in,
so she went straight

up to the sergeant at
the desk, and she said,

"Have any of your constables

reported having seen this lady's pussy?"

And had they?

No, but he took my name
and found out where I lived

and they all promised
they'd keep an eye out.

There we are, bullock.

Shove it down about there.
That's lovely. Okay, yep.

Mr. Harman, I'm getting
rather tired of telling you

not to appear on the floor
when the store is open.

In that case, why don't you give up?

Is that for me, Mr. Harman?

Yes, Mrs. Slocombe. It's
a new point of sail model

for iron-clad hosiery. It
is rip-proof, stab-proof

and run-proof. Guaranteed
against a rugger, hockey,

or scramble in the
bramble. The only tights

that will stand up
against the ultimate test,

a good going over with steel wool.

Well, I've never seen anything so

daft in all my born days.

Take it away, Mr. Harman.

Mr. Godfrey, do you expect
me to raise hell about this?

If Mrs. Slocombe does
not like a display,

she is entitled as head of
her department to refuse it,

and I must say that I
deplore the sight of female

figures without knickers.

Oh, you've changed your tune
since the Christmas party.

I don't recall anything under ward

happening at the Christmas party.

Oh, you mean you've
forgotten about the lift girl

doing the belly dancing on the tabletop?

I... I didn't see that.

That's because you were
doing an impersonation

of the man in the iron mask

with a waste paper basket over your head.

Oh, take it away.

Oh, by the way, it's worked
by a random timing mechanism.

Oh, take it away.

I'll send my senior assistant
back for the other bit.

Come on girl, you come with me.

Oh well, Mrs. Slocombe,
I wonder if you'd mind

staying behind after we close.

Oh, certainly, Captain Peacock.

We want to discuss falling
figures. You, too, Miss Brahms.

Why me? My figure hasn't fallen.

Captain Peacock is referring
to the trade we are doing.

Or more specifically,
the trade we are not doing.

Captain Peacock, are you free?

At the moment, Mr. Humphries.

Shall I come over to you
for you to sign my sheet,

or will you come over here?

You have my permission
to come over here.

I've just done six pairs
of wife routes on account.

Would you mind authenticating them?

Oh, certainly. It's good
to see, Mr. Humphries,

that you haven't lost
your sales technique.

Not when it comes to wife routes.

I was going to say to
Mr. Rumbold this morning

that that smile of yours should
take you a long way in life.

Coming from you, Captain Peacock,

that is indeed a compliment.
You always look so stern

and forbidding, I thought
you didn't like me.

Well, I'm sorry if I
give that impression.

It's very hard to be close to
people during working hours.

By the way, can you stay behind tonight.

No, Captain Peacock, my mother's, um,

my mother's rug machine has gone faulty

and I promised I'd...

She wants to have it finished for...

Well, it's a very big
rug, I don't suppose a day

would make any difference.

Haven't you got penetrating eyes.

You won't be long on that phone,

Mr. Humphries, will you?

- No, Captian Peacock.
No, I'm sorry mother.

I'm going to be late.

Well, due to circumstances
beyond my control.

No, love, choir practice
is Thursday night.

I'm at work. Well, you don't
have to do your rug tonight.

Why don't you get on with your

Battle of Hastings
tapestry for the church?

Oh, and while your at
it, the vicar thought

that King Harold's chainmail skirt

ought to be lowered about four inches.

Well, he studies those sort of things.

No, that's not where he got the arrow, no.

No, love, it was in his eye.

Oh, well if you put it there, leave it.

It'll just look silly, that's all.

Five coffees and three teas.

Which is which?

The teas is the one
with the froth on top.

That's on account of the
fact that Elsie cleans out

the tea on a Wednesday,

and she's a bit lavish with the detergent.

Why isn't the coffee frothy?

Well, Miss Vedonga does
that, and she uses vim.

Oh, by the way, there's
three water biscuits each.

They're all soggy!

That's right because
they're made with real water.

Did you know that the
Americans won't buy our biscuits?

No I didn't know that,
Mr. Tebbs. Why is that?

They say that they have more than

the acceptable number
of mouse hairs in them.

They look at them through
a microscope, you know.

Very finicky people.

He's not serious, is he?

No, there's all sorts
of rubbish and bacteria

in all the food we eat.
Fortunately, we can't see it.

Yes, you want to look at a piece of

Gorgonzola cheese through a microscope.

All that green stuff is full of

big bugs with long wavy arms.

Don't! I've got some in the pantry.

My mother's alone in the house.

I bet if a visitor from
outer space came here

and ate our food, they'd probably die.

Well, if they saw that
tea with that froth on it,

they wouldn't stop here
anyway, would they?

And you know they had
an artist's impression

of an extraterrestrial
being. Oh, it was horrible.

Great big pink thing it was with no hair,

big googly eyes and sticky-out ears.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

It's quite all right, Mr. Rumbold, sir.

We've saved all the
water biscuits for you.

Oh, my favorite. Thank you.

I've got a favorite biscuit.

I can't remember the name of it.

I know it's got something
to do with Friday.

Yes, well after that
astounding piece of information,

can we get on?

Yes, I'm ready.

Well, it's common knowledge
that sales are seriously down,

and drastic measures have to be taken.

Mr. Rumbold has had a
meeting with young Mr. Grace,

and he will now inform us of the result.

Yes, well I'm afraid it's
more serious than we thought.

Every economy has been
carefully considered.

Many of them will be put into effect,

but I'm afraid we can't avoid
the one we all fear the most:

staff reductions. This
department cannot escape,

and I'm afraid somebody will have to go.

But, I deeply regret this.
It's no exaggeration to say

this is the saddest day of my life.

May I be the first to
say goodbye to you, sir.

On behalf of all of us. May I thank you

on behalf of all of us for
all the little kindnesses

you've shown us, and I know
that I speak for every one

of us when we wish you every best of luck

in finding yourself a
new job, which of course

at your age will be no easy task.

Mr. Lucas, have you gone mad?

Redundancies don't apply
to executives at my level.

In that case, may I say how sorry I am.

So it's one of us what's
going to get the tin tank.

And may I also say that it does not

apply to middle management at my level.

Well, there has been a
further meeting about that

and as a result, I must
say that it definitely does

apply to middle management at your level.

May I be the first to
say goodbye to you, sir,

and on behalf of all of us...

Sit down!

Well, who is going to go? We
might as well know the worst.

Well, for
some time, young Mr. Grace

has wanted to introduce
worker participation

into all major decisions.

He would, therefore, like
you, the workers, to decide

which on of you is going to go.

Bath Oliver.

Oh, where does he work?

No, that's my favorite biscuit.

I've been sitting here racking my brains

to remember what it was. I knew it had

something to do with Friday.
Friday night is my bath night.

- Haven't you been listening?
We've got to cut down.

Well, we had to do more, you know.

We were only allowed five inches.

I used to share mine with Mrs. Tebbs.

You haven't been listening, have you?

I haven't.

The department is running at a loss

and one of us is going to get the sack.

Oh, who is it?

Last in, first out, I say.

Well, I was last in.

And may I be the first to say goodbye,

and to say thank you for
all your little kindness

which I'm sure you intended to do

and would've done if you ever
got around to doing them.

You're full of old world
charm today, aren't you?

What have I ever done to you?

Nothing because the only
time I let you take me out,

that usher had to put a
new battery in her torch.

I don't see why we'd need
a ladies department at all.

Well, I am of the opinion that those

who are nearest to
retirement should leave now

and not drag it out.

Don't forget your
handbag, Mrs. Slocombe.

Right, fairy cake.

Oh, so it's all coming out now is it?

Ladies and gentlemen, please, please.

Sit down, Mrs. Slocombe, let
us preserve the niceties.

You
know, I am put in mind

of the year 1912, when
that gallant explorer,

the late Captain Scott,
was trapped in the frozen

wastes of the Antarctic in a tent

with a handful of companions.

The blizzard was blowing fiercely outside,

the temperature was 45 degrees below,

and the dwindling food supplies were

obviously insufficient to
allow them all to survive.

No one knew the situation better

than the brave Captain Oats. One night,

he got up from his sleeping
bag and said very casually,

"I'm just going outside for a while.

He never came back. He
had made the decision

to sacrifice himself in
order to save his companions.

If that had happened today,

they'd have all eaten Captain Scott.

Oh, just look at that.

What are you all applauding for?

We're applauding for you, Mr. Tebbs,

sacrificing yourself for our jobs.

Don't be silly. I'm
going to spend a penny.

Though, on second thought, no.

It puts me in mind of the
story of Long John Silver,

who left the room for a while,

and when he came back, they
handed him the black spot.

Well, what did that mean?

That was a pirate's way of telling you

you've had your chips.

Well, how are we going to decide?

I couldn't help
overhearing your conversation

due to the fact that I've
been listening to every word,

and if I may say so, as a
fully paid up union man,

I am very experienced at such matters,

and when we wish to make
a momentous decision,

like getting rid of the government,

we hold a secret ballot.

Very good idea. Let's all write down

who we think should go.

Here, use my bill pad.

And I think you should also write down

the reasons for your
choice. That will help me

when I explain to young Mr. Grace.

Excuse me brother. When
you've cast your votes,

put your votes in here and
I'll be the stakeholder.

And suppose we want to vote you out.

Well, you can't because I'm
the stakeholder, aren't I?

May I have your votes, please?

Well, it's a very difficult
decision for me to make,

for I have such a warm personal regard

for every one of you.

It's a pretty
day here isn't it, you know,

to give us a state of the parties

like they do at the election.

Oh, yes. Last time,
when he said he thought

that Billy Ricky was going the other way

I nearly cut myself shaving.

Well now, let's see what we've got.

You keep the score, Howard.

Oh, yes, sorry.

Now, the first name
suggested for redundancy

is Mr. Lucas. Reason: He was the last in,

so he should be the first out.

I wonder who wrote that.

One against Mr. Lucas.

Mrs. Slocombe. Reason:
Because she is a crabby old cow.

Who dared write that?

It's written in blue pencil.

- One against Mrs.
Slocombe and five to go.

Miss Brahms. Reason: Noncooperation

at the Christmas party.

Mr. Tebbs. Reason: Past it.

Past it! Would you say I
was past it, Mr. Humphries?

- Certainly not, Mr. Tebbs.
There is minutes left in you.

Four down, two to go.

Well, let's press on, shall we?

Oh, Captain Peacock. Reason:

He is disrespectful to Mr.
Rumbold behind his back.

For instance, he holds a
plate to each side of his head

saying the words, "Guess who?"

Signed your devoted servant, Dick Lucas.

Is this true?

- It's a figment of Mr.
Lucas' diseased imagination.

All right then, saucers.

- Well, one more to go.
Oh, this one just says,

"Don't know. Signed, Mr. Humphries"

Still sitting on the
fence, then, Mr Humphries?

That way you can see what's
growing in both gardens.

Well, by my calculations, it's a draw,

and Mr. Humphries failed to score.

Which is unusual for you, Mr. Humphries.

Well, it's been a most
interesting experiment

in worker participation.

Although, totally inconclusive.

Oh, not at all, no. My
report to young Mr. Grace

will simply say that we reached
a unanimous "don't know."

Of course, one thing has
emerged from this day,

clearly the most popular
person in the department

is Mr. Humphries. Nobody
wanted to see the back of him.

That's unusual for me isn't it?

Yes, it is, Mr. Humphries.

Talk about economy cuts.

This is ridiculous. Fancy
cutting our stocking allowance.

Well, my legs don't look too bad now.

It was a good idea of yours
staining them like this.

They'll look better
when I put the seems in.

What are you talking about?

We used to do it during the war.

You draw a line up the back
with an eyebrow pencil.

Stand on that chair. And for
heaven's sake, keep still.

I can't bare crooked seems.

Oh, that tickles.

Oh, you moved!

What are you up to?

I'm just putting the finishing touch

on Miss Brahms with an eyebrow pencil.

Blimey, she must have long eyebrows.

She's the cat's mother.

All right then, the cat's
mother must have long eyebrows.

They've cut our clothing allowance

and we're not wearing our own gear.

- That's stuffing.
They've got such lowlifes

in the accounting department,
they can't seem to

eat their jump outies.

Where's everybody gone in menswear?

They're having an orgy
party in Rumbold's office.

They always got their
shirts issued free.

I never thought it was fair.

Oh, I see you've managed to
hold on to your shirts, then.

Not entirely.

While I'm here, it's pencil day.

Hang about. There's two of us, you know.

Oh, sorry.

That's part of Mr. Grace's economy drive.

I'm surprised you didn't cut it into four.

Well, we tried to, but we couldn't

get it in the pencil sharpener.

Oh, Captain Peacock, I see you've

managed to hold onto your staff shirt.

Yes, but I suffered defeat
in some other directions.

For instance, I've had to submit
to a Japanese handkerchief.

Oh, it looks quite nice.

- Well, only superficially.
There's no body or stiffness

in the material. It can't stand
up to the least vibration.

Has anyone seen Mr. Tebbs?

Not since he heard
that Mr. Pengelly from

garden furniture has got the sack

becasue his hair has gone gray.

Oh, marvelous.

It makes the years drop away.

They assured me it
was quite undetectable.

It would be if you took
the price tag off. Come here!

Any news from upstairs?

Yes, I left Mr. Rumbold on
the phone with young Mr. Grace.

We should be hearing something quite soon.

May I have your attention everybody?

I have a very important
announcement to make. Who are you?

I'm young Mr. Tebbs.

Good heavens. Well, it's as I feared.

Young Mr. Grace feels that this department

could well be run with one
less counter assistant.

Well, that can't apply to the ladies.

There's only two of us to start with.

Well, it is felt that
the ladies department

could well be run by one person
or the gentlemen's by two.

Well, then who is going to get the chop?

Well, young Mr. Grace
is most anxious that

everyone should have a fair chance,

and should be allowed to sate his case.

To that end, on Saturday
afternoon, he will join us,

and he will look into every
aspect of everyone's talent,

and capabilities, and on
that basis, he will decide.

So, until Saturday afternoon.

When the ax will fall.

You shave your mustache,

you could get a job as Harry Secombe.

What have you got there, Mr. Harman?

They're making a book down in packing,

and there's heavy bets on
who's going and who's staying.

Well you can scratch me off the list

because it's been decided after all

that management at my level are staying.

That's messed up the odds because

I've got you down as 50 to one on the go.

Captain Peacock, non-runner.

What odds are the others then?

Slocombe, experienced
mare despite weight...

Could stay the field. Even money favorite.

Brahms, filly, last time out
was at the Christmas party.

Preferred brandy, five to one.

Tebbs, long in the tooth, broken wind.

Age and weight goes against
this runner, 50 to one.

Lucas, young stallion, enjoys his oats,

but never passes a filly,
and always a good finisher.

Ask Nancy, the lift girl, 10 to one.

What about me?

I've got you down as
a good each way bet.

I always have been.

Hello, we're going
to start those orders.

Good afternoon everybody.

Good afternoon, Mr. Grace.

Now, the first question
which we have to decide

is whether Miss Brahms or
Mrs. Slocombe should go.

Slocombe versus Brahms!

I'd like to say a few words
on behalf of Miss Brahms.

Carry on, Mr. Lucas.

Thank you, well, well then...

Excuse me, stand up when
you address Mr. Grace.

- I'm sorry, your honor.
May it please your lordship.

When I go into a ladies' shop,

I think it's very nice to see

a nice pretty girl behind the counter,

especially if she's got
long, sexy legs and big...

Objection!

How can you see her legs if
she's behind the counter?

You can stand on tip-toe.

Objection overruled.

Thank you very much, your lordship.

And now, I suggest that Miss Brahms

and Mrs. Slocombe show us their legs

in all that we can assess their merits.

Slocombe 101 to get the sack!

I'd like to say a
word for Mrs. Slocombe.

I cannot have her subject
to this unseemly exhibition.

My legs are not unseemly!

Shut up, I'm on your side!

If I go into a ladies' shop
to buy a pair of tights,

I'm not interested in
looking at girls' legs.

I like to see a nice motherly figure

with an understanding smile.

And what, may I ask, are you doing

going into a lades' shop buying tights?

I don't know, but if I did,
that's what I'd like to see,

a motherly figure with
an understanding smile.

The question we have to
decide, Mr. Grace, is this:

Do we prefer someone
with a lot of experience

and a little older, or
someone with long, sexy legs?

Well, I prefer somebody
with a lot of experience,

and long, sexy legs.

I don't know about that, but my legs

are sexier than Mrs. Slocombes.

Stop
influencing Mr. Grace.

Too late, I've been influenced.

Before you decide, sir,
we should examine the men.

I don't want to see their legs.

Sir, if I might just read

an extract from Mr. Tebbs record.

Would that be upstanding, Mr. Tebbs?

Mr. Tebbs has been with
us for over 40 years.

He was twelve years
with buyers in fittings,

received 76 citations for selling complete

marbleized bathroom suites.
1968 received long service

pen and pencil set.

That was a memorable
day. Mrs. Tebbs got drunk.

Captain of the Grace
Brothers bowls team,

secretary of Grace Brothers dance club,

tireless worker for Grace
Brothers benevolent fund

for distressed salespersons.
1976, after 40 years

devoted service, was
honored by yourself, sir,

at the tea party in the boardroom.

He's had a bloody
boring life, hasn't he?

Enough! I've heard enough.

It has been a long glittering career.

From now on, it could be
nothing more than an anticlimax.

I realize I must step aside,
make room for a younger man

to climb to the dizzy
heights which I have occupied

for so long. How stupid of
me to try to look younger.

It was only because I'd hoped to save up

to take Mrs. Tebbs for a last
holiday to her birthplace

in Wales. For old time's
sake, to bang her.

But, I realize now I probably
shan't be able to afford it.

So, farewell my friends,
my counter and my life.

Oh, I can't bare it. Stop
him! Oh, bring him back!

I'll go! I resign!

No, no! I'm the youngest! I'll go!

You won't, either of
you, go because I'm going,

and I'm having any
argument. One of these days,

I'll be his age. Mr. Grace, I resign,

and I am unanimous in that.

Well, you're all going to be so noble,

I'm going to resign.

Order!

Break!

- Come back, Mr. Tebbs.
Now, let's get one thing

absolutely clear, no one
is allowed to resign.

I shall decide who is going to go.

Oh, in that case may we help you.

Mr. Humphries, are you free?

I am free.

Follow me.

You're fired, both of you.

No they're not. I've
always wanted to do that.

Have a cake.

I enjoyed that. So,
I'll see you on Monday.

No, sir, sir, what
about the economy cuts?

Oh, they've been canceled.

I'm introducing a three-day week.

What, for the store?

Oh no, no, no, for me. It's
very boring in my office.

Supposing something comes up
while you're in the country?

Well, we'll send him
someone with long sexy legs

and lots of experience.

I think you'd do much better
with a understanding smile.

corrected by 7kozlov
- www.myfbs.ru -

♫ Ground floor perfumery,
stationary and leather goods,

♫ Wigs and haberdashery,
kitchenware and food going up,

♫ First floor telephones,
gents ready-made suits,

♫ Shirts, socks, ties, hats,
underwear and shoes going up,

♫ Second floor carpets,
travel goods and bedding,

♫ Material, soft furnishings,
restaurant and teas,

♫ going down.

♫ First floor telephones,
gents ready-made suits,

♫ Shirts, socks, ties, hats,
underwear and shoes going up.