All language subtitles for Peep.Show.S05E04.Jeremys.Mummy.1080p.ALL4.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-AEK_track3_[eng]

THIS PROGRAMME CONTAINS
STRONG LANGUAGE.

'The remains
of an old lady's life.

'What a paltry set of mementos!

'I don't want to lord it over
Jez's dead great-aunt,

'but I reckon I'd already
leave a more interesting set
of personal effects.

'Hope he's coping OK.'

She is dead, she is dead

Dead old Gwen is dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead

Dead old Gwen is dead!

Managing to contain
your grief, Jeremy?

Come on, she was my mum's aunt.
I only met her about twice.

It's not like she was Ian Curtis.

She was never going to make
a seminal album.

She couldn't even make
Christmas cake.

It's a pisser though, isn't it?
Cancer. They should find
a fucking cure.

I think they're trying.
Yeah, sure they are.

They should pull their fucking
fingers out. It's important, Mark.

Not a huge reader.
Three James Herriots,

Frank Muir's autobiography

and the Reader's Digest
Quiz and Puzzle Book 1984.

Mum's getting 40 grand in the will

and she's promised me half.
It's all gravy from here, Mark.

Good old Gwen. I couldn't have
planned this better
if I'd murdered her myself.

£20,000 won't last forever, Jeremy.

What do you mean? £20,000 -
I'm going to be a millionaire!

"I have a mouth, but do not speak,
I have a bed but never sleep."

What am I?

A river.

Nicholas Lyndhurst.

That's the wrong answer section.
Fuck this shit.

So when's the funeral?

Wednesday. But Mum's
coming over this afternoon,

which will be incredibly boring.

You should drop acid at the funeral.
Make it more intense.
That's what I did

at me old man's.
It was fucking mental.
I was crying and laughing.

Didn't know who was dead
and who was alive.

Shit.

What, dildo?

Jesus, Jeremy!

Wow! Nice. Nice gun.

Must be, what...a war gun?

Yeah. I reckon it's a war gun.

This is great. This isn't bin
or sell, this is a keeper!

You're not serious,
it's an illegal firearm!

It's not illegal...probably.
It's just a grisly souvenir.

You've got to get rid of it, Jeremy.

Where should he take it, Mark?
Scope?

Leave it in a litter bin for
a kiddie to find and kill his mum?
You'd love that!

No.

I'll keep it in my room. It'll be
safe there. I'll put it in a drawer.

Oh, brilliant
As long as no-one can work
out the intricate slidingmechanism

that opens your drawer,
it'll be perfectly safe!

'Yeah, sure, you've got
sarcasm. I've got a big gun!'

'Good old Jeremy's mum.
The more sophisticated end

'of the mum spectrum, the sort of
mum you'd buy in John Lewis.'

Mummy! Coffee!

Fucky hurry-uppy!

'Whereas he's the sort of son
you'd get free with Nuts magazine.'

Did you bring those
CDs like I told you?

Yes, they're in my handbag.
Shall I fetch them?

Might be an idea.
Oh, and guess what?

You forgot to top up my mobile
again.

Sorry, Jez, is there some reason
why you're being so incredibly rude
to your mum?

Oh, right, stick up for Mummy.
You don't know her, Mark,
you don't know her tricks.

Anyway, what's it to you? Do you
want to fuck my mum, is that it?

Mum, Mark wants to fuck you!

Shut up, Jeremy!

He definitely wants
to fuck you, Mum!

Stop showing off to Mark, Jeremy. >

Me? I'm not the one
dressed like a prossie.

Please, Jez, this level
of conflict may be usual for you,

but it's not healthy.
I'm going to have a heart attack.

And I suppose your relationship
with your mum is healthy? Sitting
in silence, watching Taggart.

30 years of mutual resentment
eating away at you.

We like Taggart. Even the new ones.

Right...

Where are those clothes I asked for?

Martin's bringing them
when he picks me up.

Here we are.

Who's Martin?

Oh, God, not another boyfriend!

Fucking hell, Mum!
How many's that now?

'How come she gets
all the bloody boyfriends?'

'OK, so he's ex-Army,
but keep calm.'

Martin.
Hello, love.

'Shit, it's Paddy Ashdown, it's
Indiana Jones! Indiana Ashdown!'

Pleased to meet you, Martin,
I'm Mark.

You're not the son?

No, that's the son.

Hi. Are you my new daddy?

Natalie's bringing up
that bag of clothes you asked for.

'The daughter. I wonder what she's
like. Maybe she's "the one."'

Do you need a hand?

No, fine.
Will you give that to my dad?

Sure. Would you like
to come in for coffee?

No, fine.

'Well, if she is the one,
she's hiding it brilliantly.'

So, Martin, Jackie tells me
you're a Scots Guards man.

Did you see a lot of action?

'That was a good question, better
than "Can I get you a coffee?"'

..Malaysia, not pretty.

Falklands, ditto.

Did you kill many black babies?

In the Falklands?

I'll get you a coffee.

I've got some more
Corfu property details.

I think we'll be able to see them
all while we're there.

Are you buying somewhere?
I hope this isn't coming out of

my chunk of the dead Gwen bonanza.

Actually, darling, if you remember,
we spoke about...

Spoke about what?

Just that it might not be ideal
for you still to be living on
handouts from your mother.

You're what, 35?
Fuck off!

Jackie isn't a wealthy woman,
Jeremy.

Mum? You said I could have half of
Gwen's money. That's what you said.

To me. Your son.

Don't hassle me.
You know I don't like being hassled.

Little Henry Hassle,
that's what I used to call him!

What are we going to do with him,
Mark?

Thank goodness he lives with you,
sweetheart. You're very good for
him.

I try.

'Parents do tend to like me.
Apart from Dad, obviously.'

Maybe you should try and talk to him.

I won't get through.

'The woman has left,
let the war talk commence.'

So, Martin, are you
a military history buff

or is that too much of
a busman's holiday for you?

Bit like a butcher looking at...
meat catalogues.

'Meat catalogues don't exist,
Mark, get a grip!'

I'm very keen on military history.

I've got all the Antony Beevors.

Don't you find him...? I find
Beevor's a bit lightweight,
if I'm honest.

Yeah, he's rubbish, isn't he?

'I'm so sorry, Anthony.'

He's fine for an overview.

That's all I read him for, really.
I get the detail elsewhere.

You're really into this stuff,
aren't you? Do you write at all?

I did once start a business book.
I've always fancied doing an article

about the evacuation of Greece
in '41 for the local paper.

Not that it would really fit in
among the kebab-shop stabbings.

'Why doesn't Jeremy want you
to be his dad?

'I want you to be my dad. I
want to sit on your knee right now.'

'Right, everyone's out.

'Might sneak a little peek
at the gun.

'It's fine to be fascinated
by the gun.

'It's fascinating. Everything that
can kill a man is fascinating.

'Guns, electric chairs, paracetamol,
lead piping.'

Hello, Mark.

Oh...hi, Jez.

I was just...you know,

making sure it was safe.
Gunny, the gun.

You like it, Mark.

That's fine. You like the gun.

Guns are great.
Design classics, like
the Routemaster Bus or those chairs.

It's fine to like it as an object,
isn't it?

I might carry it around the flat
for a bit. Would that be OK?

Sure, man. Enjoy.

'Oh, this is good.

'This feels so good.'
Jackie called earlier.

Was it about my money?

I'm afraid not. She invited me to
have dinner with her and Martin.

Why? Maybe they both want
to fuck you.

Stop it, Jeremy.

'Although what do they want? What
will I talk to the grown-ups about?'

Give us a go with Gunny.

Um...

Come on, my turn with Gunny!

Now pass me the Doritos
or I'll blow my brains out!

'Maybe they're going to blame me
for Jeremy. I should have done more.'

Perhaps I won't go.
Might be awkward.

No, no, bat for me, talk me up.

For you as much as me.
I owe you over £1,000.

£4,000.

Exactly. Over £1,000.

And then there's fixed rate
versus variable.

You're right, Martin,
it is a financial minefield.

Oh, absolutely.

'This is great!
Why was I anxious? I'm in my element.

'Older people are still people.

'Just people who think when they open
a new window on the computer

'the previous window
disappears for good.'

Jonathan Dimbleby was talking
about offset mortgages

on some Radio 4 programme yesterday.

I always think
there's a third Dimbleby brother
they keep locked in an attic.

Gummo Dimbleby!

'Yes! No-one else I know
would have found that funny

'but I was right
to think it was amusing.'

You're a very witty chap, Mark.
Which is sort of the reason
I asked you tonight.

I want to...
'Fuck you.'

..look into writing a memoir
about my time in the Scots.

A small publisher's interested,

I'm looking at possible
collaborators.
Would you be interested?

'I would literally stab a baby
to do it.'

Yes, Martin, I think I would.

Good. Well, we must keep chatting
before Jackie and I jet off to
Corfu.

Great.

Now, can we talk about Jeremy
and this whole inheritance
situation?

I don't know what to do, Mark.
Would the money be good for Jeremy?

Good for Jeremy?

Yes. >

Would it be good for him?

What an interesting question.

'Which way will Caesar Corrigan's
thumb point?

'This is a fantastic evening.
I've become

'a military historian, and Jeremy's
future happiness rests in my hands.

'And I've got a Tiramisu.

'This is fucking amazing!'

Well? Did you do it?
Have I got my money?

Don't do the pause, Mark, you're
not Davina! Have I got my money?

Yes, you've got your money.

Yes! Mwah!

You beautiful man. I'm gonna tattoo
your name on my balls.

I'm a millionaire again!

But there's a condition.

There's always conditions, Mark.
You can ignore conditions.

When you sign up for a credit card
or adopt a child there are
conditions, they're meaningless.

Jackie doesn't trust you
with that kind of money.

She wants to put someone
in charge of it

to control how much you spend.

Fuck, it's not Martin, is it?

No... No, it's not, actually.

Right, who is it? Is it some kind
of Brewster's Millions scenario?

It's me.

I'm in charge of your money.

BrilliantYou're the boss of me.

This is your pathetic dream
come true, isn't it?

No, it isn't. 'Yes, it is.
I've got your balls in a vice.

'I'm the iron chancellor!'

I've worked out a budget.
I think £70 a week is about right.

And I'll take £130 for rent
and loan repayments.

Basically, you're my dad now
and you give me my pocket money?

You don't have to agree, Jeremy.

You're free to turn the money down.

'That would teach him
if I did turn it down.

'That would wipe the shit-eating grin
off his face if I did that.'

Do you agree?

Of course I agree,
obviously I agree.

Can I have some money for expenses,
on credit?

To spend on what?

You're at your great-aunt's wake,
Jez, all the food and drink is free

and I don't think there's going
to be a tombola or a bouncy castle.

'I'll shoot the breeze with
Super Hans.

'Chatting with your mates
is still free. You can't tax that,
Brown!'

You all right?

Jez, can you tell me, as a mate,

someone who knows me really well,
is the bottom half of me on fire?

No.

Thanks. That's good.

Are you tripping?

The shit I'm seeing,
I fucking well hope so!

You couldn't get me any glue,
could you? Take the edge off?

Glue?
< Yeah.

Glue's coming back. Nature's glue.

'I've never done glue. Never boffed
a tranny. I've hardly lived.'

I've had a few thoughts
about the title. Warrior King?

Or Master Of Men?

War Dad?

I'll run them past Natalie.

I'm using her as a bit of
a younger-generation sounding board.

Look, Mark, I'm actually seeing
one other guy tomorrow

about the writing.
Best hold fire for a day or so.

'Fuck, a rival!'

He's very good, Brendan. Ex-Navy.

'A rival who dippy Jackie likes.'

Right.

'OK, need to smarm
the sounding board.'

Hello, again, is this...?

Yeah, Dad asked me to do the food.
I'm in the catering corps.

So, are you the ghost writer?

Well, hopefully.

'Is she straight?

'Gay? Doesn't bother me,
it's just nice to know.
It's not like I'm a homophobe,

'but it's good to know where you are.
Stay safe, praise the food,
the lukewarm disgusting food.'

This food is superb.

Thanks. Normal slop, tarted up
like a whore's drawers.

Actually, Natalie,
could I interview you about your dad?

Bit of prep for the book,
if I do it.

Interview me? Are you sure?
I've never been interviewed before.

That's hilarious, actually.
Me, being interviewed.

'Just for family colour, really.

'Like the story of how you did,
or possibly didn't, become a
lesbian.'

Come on then, what's the big news?
Is it something disgusting?
Trying for a baby?

Or is he going to the Hague
for war crimes?

It's Gwen's money.
Turns out your mother,

after probate and tax and so on,
she's only going to get £20,000.

What? So I only get ten grand now?

That's a bit rich! Come on, Mum,
can I have it all? You'll be all
right.

Our plan is you get some money -
for jeans, a night out,
some trainers,

but your mother needs all Gwen's
money for the Corfu property.

What?! So I get nothing? You can't
just take it away. This is stealing!

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

OK, do you want me to beg?

That's fine. I'm fine with that.
I beg you for money.

OK? I beg you, Mum,
as your only child,

to please make me happy
by giving me my money.

Oh, I don't know.
Maybe I should? Although...

No. It's a no.

'This is fine.
I'm just back to being poor again.
It's just money. I mean,

'no-one died.

'No, no, Gwen died and
I haven't got her fucking money!'

My teacher was a bit of a hippy
and she gave me this CND badge.

I genuinely loved Miss Davis.

'Case closed.'

Anyway, I wore it at home
and fucking hell, Mark, Dad's face.

It was like he was being given
a Tabasco enema.

These are all great stories,
Natalie.

It'd be good to focus on your dad's
career a bit, but these are class.

Let me get us some more wine...

'cos you're going through this
like a thirsty gay!'

Everything's shit flavoured, Mark.
It's all ashes.

What am I going to do for money now?

You can get a job.
People do get jobs. I've got a job.

Yes, but as I've told you before,
Mark, re doing a job,

because of my creativity,
it's kind of abuse.

I'm thinking of selling Gunny.
I could sell it to some Yardies.

No, Jeremy, Gunny lives with us now.

Or I could shoot Martin.

Or I could hire some Yardies
to shoot Martin.

Jeremy, the Yardies aren't gonna
solve all your problems.

Why do you always think the Yardies
are the answer to everything?

'The Yardies will help me.
I just need to get
a number for the Yardies.'

I tell you what...

let's make this next one
an Irish wine.

What's an Irish wine?
'Look at me,

'talking happily to a lesbian about
war and drinking Irish wine.

'Good job you're dead, Norman
Mailer, cos there's a new gonzo
in town!'

Whisky usually makes me horny.
It's a horny drink.

'When did we stop saying "randy"?
"Horny" has driven "randy" out.'

Hello, Natalie. How's your dad?

Jeremy...

Yeah, fine, thank you.

Enjoying my money, is he?
Is he lying in a bath of my money?

Nude, after having sex with my mum?
Nude?

Natalie, why don't you take
your wine through to my room?

We can finish the interview
in there.

Whatever you say.

Look, everything isn't always
someone else's fault, Jeremy.

Actually, I think you'll find it is.

You need to get over this thing
with your mum. You're not Hamlet.

Stop being Hamlet. >

I'll stop being Hamlet when you
stop being...

'He can't think of a
Shakespearean character.'

..a massive twat!

'He couldn't even think of Romeo.
Romeo's easy.'

Found another bottle. It's Moldovan,
but if we Irish it up a bit...

'Right, OK.
Looks like the floor for me, then.

'Sofa's out. Jeremy's busy murdering
pedestrians on Grand Theft Auto.

'She hasn't had a wee in a while.
I hope she doesn't wee in my bed.'

Don't wee the bed, Natalie.

'That might filter through
to her subconscious.

'I hope the don't was clear enough.'

Mum, I can't find my good pants.
I don't want to wear the tight ones.

It's PE.

Natalie...is everything...?

I like you, Mark.
I'm showing you I like you.

'Oh, God, when did she start? This
could've been going on all night.'

Natalie, sorry... No... I...

Stop!

Don't you like me?

Yes, but I don't think we should...
I don't really want to...

'Maybe this is what they do
in the Army. I'm being initiated!'

I'm not a lesbian, Mark.

Yes, OK... I...
I can see that. Point proved.

But please stop, Natalie.

Are you nearly there?

I don't...

Could you stop?

Oh, dear God! Oh, dear...

'I'm having an orgasm
against my will!

'Oh, God! She's stolen sex off me.'

I like you.

I liked that.

Yes... OK.

Think I need a wee now.

Right.
'Least she didn't wee on me.

'That's a positive.'

< Bye, Natalie.

Have you had breakfast?
Yes.

What did you have?

Mainly Nurofen.

How was the rest of your evening
with Peaches Stalin?

Oh, OK. Bit funny.

I woke up with Natalie shagging me
and I wasn't really into it.

I asked her to stop. But she didn't.
That was a bit of a weird one.

You asked her to stop
but she carried on, anyway?

Yes...

It was all a bit, you know...

Mark, it sounds like
you've been raped by a soldier.

Like in a Mike Leigh film.

Stop talking like this, Jeremy.

You said no. You said
stop having sex with me, please,

but she didn't listen.

You, my friend, are a rape victim.

It's more complicated than that.

Do you have feelings of guilt,
shame, self-loathing?

You know I do.
Don't load the question.

Wotcha, guys.

How did you get in?

Got keys. It's easier.

You still cool
about me having the gun?

Yeah, sure.
Top man.

What do you mean, having the gun?

I'm renting it to Super Hans.

< What?
I need to frighten this geezer.

It's gone frilly. Need to wave a gun
at a guy, get him to back off.

Got any Marmite?

No. No way!

Come on, Mark.
Don't piss on my strawberries.

Don't mind Mark, Super Hans.
He's a bit down in the dumps.

He's been raped.

Yeah? You got raped?

A woman continued to have sex
with me after I asked her to stop,
that's all.

Sounds like you were raped to me,
Mark. Classic case.

It wasn't rape, all right?
It was just a minor sexual assault.

She didn't force anything up my bum -
that's why it's not rape.

Well, it's not bum rape, no.

You never said it was bum rape,
Mark.

Do you think you're gonna
write this book, then?

I dunno. He sounded
very positive on the phone.

I've got a title for you.
Yeah? >

Yeah. The Memoirs Of A Thieving,
Conniving,

Murdering, Stealing,
Cheating Motherfucker.

You're not going to cause an
incident, are you, Jeremy?

This is really important to me!

No, of course not!
I'm going to go to the hotel,

say goodbye to Mum. Tell her I've
never loved her, wish her bon
voyage.

Look, I'm just saying goodbye.
I am a human being.

'Please don't shit on my dreams,
I don't want shit on my dreams.'

That's the first lot of diaries,
Mark. The Malay years.

Great. I'll start making notes
straightaway.
Thank you so much, Martin.

'Look out, Beevor, I'm on your ass!'

You've got Natalie to thank, really.

She's been very enthusiastic
about you.

'Maybe that was actually good sex.

'Loosen up, Corrigan. This is
what happens in the bedroom now.

'No old-fashioned
fumbling and kissing.

'A lesbian rapes you while you
dream about your mother. It's edgy.'

Some of it's a bit choice, Mark.
A bit fruity, death-wise.
You have been warned!

Doesn't bother me, Martin.
The fruitier the better.

War's never a picnic.

Although, obviously, soldiers do end
up eating outdoors quite a lot.

Yes, I'm going to check out now,
pay up, save us some time.

I'll finish up here.

Ahh, it's been lovely seeing you,
pumpkin.

'Shut up, Mum.'

I'm sorry about this
boring money business!

It's fine. Really. Super Hans says
the band's been getting a lot of
interest

and I might write a porn film
with a proper story,

so...good opportunities. This is
a nice room. Mind if I have a look?

Mmm, sure.

He seems a lot less...
Doesn't he, Mark?

Yes... I might just
go and have a look round, too.

What's going on? Why's Gunny here?

If they can't get to Corfu, Mark,
they can't spend my money.
That's physics!

Jez, mate, a gun at an airport?
No, give me Gunny.

No, Mark. I won't let them run off
with my money.

That's why Gunny's
going on a little holiday!

Twit! I've only packed my bloody...
What...?

That's a gun.

Give me Gunny, Jeremy.

Oh, fuck off, Mark!
You're not Taggart.

You're aiming the gun at me?
You're going to shoot me, Jeremy?

I was just stretching my arm.

'He's abducting Gunny.'

It's deactivated.
Most of these things are.

'Deactivated. It's like he's told me
my cock doesn't work.

'Poor deactivated Gunny.'

Jackie, we're going!
Your son is an idiot!

I'm so sorry, Martin. Really.

You don't want the diaries back,
do you?

You're not responsible for Jeremy,
Mark. We'll talk when we get back.

Have a lovely time in Corfu.

Natalie raped Mark.

What?!

Bye, then.

Mark? Is that what you told him?

Go on, Mark.
Tell Martin what happened.

I'm telling the police and
the papers unless I get my money.

Mark?

'Close, doors, close.'
There was a misunderstanding.
That's all, Martin. Crossed wires.

It wasn't a proper rape at all.
Nothing went up my bum. Off you go.

What do you mean, rape?
What are you talking about?

Well, I did actually say stop.

But let's just completely forget,
forever, what Jeremy just said.
You go.

Don't let her off, Mark.

She's OJ. She's guilty as fuck.
Tell the truth!

Yes, please do!
Tell the fucking truth.

Why am I suddenly the bad guy?
He's the one with the gun!

She's the one who...not raped me,
but... How come I'm the villain?

'Doors closing.'

'No, not the diaries! I've lost
the battle of the war diaries!

'Back to the trenches
of credit management.'

Well, Mummy's gone.
So you're my mummy again now.

'And I'm gonna have to
suck on your dry teat forever!'