Original subtitles

Thames VTR 18059 Part 1, Take 1

Oh, dear.

Oh, my God.

Disgusting.

Oh, yes, my love.

George?

I've got something to tell you. It's going to be a good year for carrots,

Mildred. I think I might plant a couple of bushes.

Oh, George.

Look, I want you to be brave.

Why? What are you going to do?

I don't know how to tell you this, George. It's just that death comes to

us sooner or later.

You keep away from me.

George, it's Oscar.

He's gone.

Aye.

I came in to clean his cage out, George, and...

He must have passed away during the night.

He could be pretending, Mildred. Playing a trick on me.

He's dead, George.

Come on, Oscar.

Who's a pretty boy, then?

George, he never said it in life. He's not going to start now.

Well, he might.

He's ticking, Mildred.

That's your watch, George.

Oh, look, love, he was getting on a bit.

Yeah, I suppose so.

Well, I mean, if he'd been a human, He had a telegram from the Queen years ago.

I'm all alone in the world now, Mildred. Oh, I'm here, George.

Yeah, it's not the same.

He really liked me.

Yes, well, I get your point.

Look, George, I mean, it's not the end of the world. Well, you try telling him

that. What I mean is he might be gone, George, but we'll have him in our memory

forever. Yeah. Yeah.

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Remember that time your sister Ethel came round and he did his whoopsie on

hat?

Yes. And that other time he flew up your dress and you... Yeah, I remember.

It's a wonder he lived as long as he did.

Well, I suppose I'd better find something to bury him in. Otherwise next

cat will have him up.

George, there is an empty packet of cornflakes in the kitchen.

You have no respect, Mildred.

Besides, I want to do the competition on the back.

Here, now, I'll use your jewellery box. You will not.

Give it here.

I mean, where am I going to keep my rubber bands and...

hairpins and paper clips.

Oh, well, I suppose you might as well have it.

Well, I'll dig a little hole for him in the garden.

Oh, really?

It'll be the first time you've taken a spade to it since we've been here. Yeah.

I haven't got a spade.

Geoffrey, I'm not sure I should give this dress.

Wasn't it the one I was wearing when you proposed to me?

You weren't wearing a dress when I proposed to you.

Because, uh, because she was wearing slacks.

What's the homework today, then, Big Ears? It's about nature and the

reproductive process.

Oh, yes.

Anne, Anne, they're giving him sex instruction.

Well, it's only the life cycle of the tadpole.

It's nothing under the wedge.

Oh, is that how they do it?

Eight.

Oh, yeah, eight. He's only eight.

Was I ever a tadpole?

You see?

No.

Well, yes.

Sort of.

There's plenty of time for this when he's 13 or 14.

Well, he could be trapped into an affair with a frog by then.

All I'm saying is, Tristram, go in the lounge and do your homework.

I'm going to talk to Mummy about something I shouldn't hear.

No, no, not at all.

I suppose, sir.

As long as it's BBC.

All I'm saying is I didn't learn the facts of life until I was 16.

And nowadays it's sex, sex everywhere you turn.

Yes, dear.

I mean, even our local news agents. The place for sex is in the home, not in the

high street.

Especially if it's raining.

Anne, I don't think that's very funny.

Excuse me. Yes, what?

Oh, Mrs Roper.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Mr. Formile, could I borrow your spade, please? It's for George.

Oh, yes, yes, I suppose so.

It's in the shed.

Oh, thanks.

Is he doing some gardening, Mildred? Yes, in a way. He's planting our budgie.

Oscar? Yes, he died during the night. Oh, dear.

Oh, thank you. Yes, well, it was probably his heart, you know. I found

morning. Legs in the air, stiff as a poker.

Good God.

I thought, you know, a discreet little burial at the end of the garden.

Mr Roper.

What?

The budgie. Oh, what a shame.

About the budgie.

Yes.

Have you time for a cup of Mildred? Oh, yes, yes, if you're not too busy. No,

I'm just sorting out all this stuff for the Brigham Buy sale.

Oh.

Oh.

There you are, Oscar.

You'll be cosy in there.

And I'll put your little bell in with you.

George! George!

They're having a jumble sale at St Bute off this afternoon.

Oh, good. You could do with some new clothes.

I've offered to help.

Though I'm not sure we've got anything decent enough to give to a jumble sale.

Hey, we can make a few bobby, yeah?

George, you give it. It's for the church.

Well, you haven't been to church for years.

Well, do you blame me?

The last time I went in one, I came out married to you.

I shall be on a stall.

I hope they get a good price for you.

I know why you want to get involved.

So you can hobnob with all them blue rinses.

Pardon me, Lady Muckamuck. Did my cream bun catch in your diamond tiara?

George, they're nice people.

Ah, stop.

Come Sunday, you can't get through the church door for golf clubs.

Well, don't you talk like that in front of the vicar.

Was he coming here? Yes, to get our jumble.

Oh, yeah.

He could say a few words over Oscar.

You dare.

George, now, um, what have we got that, uh, that we don't need anymore?

Oh.

Oh,

you know how to twist a knife a little bit.

As I was saying to Anne, things have got completely out of hand.

Even the local newsagent thrust smutty magazines under your nose.

Really, Anne? I hadn't noticed.

Well, they're on the top shelf, so you have to stand on tiptoe.

Well, not what you would... That sort of thing should be stamped on.

Oh, that must be difficult.

If it's on the top shelf.

Sorry.

It's not so much people like you or I. I mean, we can handle it. Yes. It's the

working class. The assault of the earth goes without saying. But they are easily

inflamed. We're all the same in the sight of God.

Well... Yes.

They don't have the training and self -control that we have. No, quite.

Another chocolate biscuit?

Oh, thank you.

No, no.

Mustn't overdo it.

You can't give him this coat, Mildred. It costs you ten clothing coupons.

George.

I was ashamed to wear that at the Festival of Britain. I'm certainly not

to wear it now.

Hey, what about this skirt?

We could cut it up for polishing cloths. I made it out of polishing cloths in

the first place.

Hey, what are you sticking your name on for?

George, there's no point in giving to charity if nobody knows what you're

Oh, now.

Behave yourself, George.

Sit up straight.

And don't click your upper set.

Ah,

Mrs. Ripper? Yes. My name is Steps. Oh, do come in, Your Reverence.

Thank you.

Mrs. Formile said you might have... Oh, yeah, I do have, yes.

Oh, I've got lots.

And none of it being used.

Please, come in. Thank you.

There we are.

Oh, excuse me.

There we are. Thank you so much. Of course, some of it is slightly past its

best. My husband.

Mr. O 'Connor, we haven't met.

Though I did see you the other day in the local newsagents.

I'll deny it.

You seemed rather taller at the time. Ah, that was somebody else.

I was buying gardening magazines for the bottom shelf.

Do sit down, Your Reverence. Yeah, take a few.

Thank you.

So you're friends of Mr and Mrs Fourmile?

Yes.

The family's been involved with some boot -offs the generations.

Our graveyard is full of Fourmiles.

Yeah, it's the best place for them. George.

Can I offer you a cup of tea?

Thank you.

Oh.

Here, tell me something.

Do budgies go to heaven?

Budgies? Yeah, budgies.

I mean, if they haven't sinned, that is.

Well, I don't know if you can't do in a whoopsie on a hat is a sin.

I'm not sure that I've... Yes, it appears to be gone.

Oh, exactly.

But where to, you see? That's what I want to know.

I mean, he'd be in his element up there, wouldn't he?

He's having the wings already, you see. I don't think so, Mr Ripper. Oh.

Well... What about coming back in another form? You know, like re -in...

-in... What's the name of that tin milk?

Re -imprimison?

That's it, exactly.

I mean, after all, we could have been budgies in a past life, couldn't we, you

and me?

Well, especially you. There's something about the nose.

Here we are, then.

I thought I might be able to press you to a sponge finger. Oh, very kind.

This is really more Buddhist than Christian, you know. Oh, really?

Well, perhaps you'd better have a ginger biscuit.

Oh, I see. For all I know, you might have been a Buddhist. A Buddhist budgie.

George, put it away while we're eating.

Sugar? No, thank you. I believe you've offered to help out in the stall this

afternoon. Yes, indeed.

Oh, most kindly. He could have been Jewish.

I mean, he very rarely rang his bell on a Saturday.

Oh, George.

I do not wish to hear another word about budget. That's perfectly all right.

Finish your tea, and then you can help me take the stuff out to the van.

Right.

Some quality stuff here, you know.

I knew how to make shirt tails in the old days. You could tuck them in the top

of your socks.

Nowadays,

they barely cover your...

If that's everything.

Oh, well, there is one other thing.

I was going to bury him in the back garden, but I thought, well, you know

do it properly.

Yes. Well, you know, consecrated ground, that sort of thing.

You don't have to dig a special hole for him. He won't mind sharing.

Well, I mean, next time you're burying someone, you could slip him in as well,

see?

Oh, I nearly forgot.

A few more bits of peaches.

Most kind.

I shall see you both this afternoon then. Oh, yes.

I'm not coming. You're coming.

George,

you're not ready.

I'm not coming, that's why I'm not ready. I think it's dark in a way, our

thing, just to make an impression.

George, I've only given away the things we don't need.

I'm in the budgie cage, those old gardening magazines of yours.

Do what?

I mean, you never do any gardening, George. I don't know why you bother to

them. Not the ones under the stairs in the cardboard box.

Yes? Oh, my God.

What's the matter? Oh, nothing.

Oh, my God.

George, you're hiding something.

No, it's just that, see, well, they weren't all gardening magazines.

Just the top layer.

And what was underneath?

What do you mean, the other hundred or so?

Well, they were sort of, um... Well, they were sort of art books.

Art?

What sort of art?

Well, art.

What were they called?

Nudge, wink, titter.

And I've sent them some tribute -offs.

With my...

Well, how do you think I feel about it, Mildred?

Took me years, that collection.

It'd be hard to replace some of them.

Especially the Swedish ones.

Now,

look, George.

Just tell me.

Now, be honest.

Were they too rude?

Well, no.

Well, I mean, some of them were a bit sort of, um... Well, a bit sort of...

they were rude, Mildred.

I mean, how could you buy things like that?

It's cheap, cheap, cheap.

You sounded just like Oscar, then.

I only bought them for the crosswords, Mildred.

That is besides the point, George.

They are crosswords.

Well, no, but I didn't know that when I bought them.

Get your coat!

George, with my name on the box, they might think that some of those

are of me.

Oh, no, no possibility of that, Mildred, no.

I mean, you're nowhere near as, um...

No, no, no, can't do that. Get your coat!

Socialism the way ahead.

Put that with the fiction, I think.

How much should we charge for this bed?

Oh, about 50p, I should... Just a moment.

That's mine!

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure. Look.

I lend it to Roper and he gives it to a jumble sale.

Tell you what, if it isn't yours, you can have it for 25.

Daddy?

Can I have these comics?

Why, I suppose so.

5p. Can I have 5p?

What have you done to earn 5p?

I've helped you sell these comics.

Yes.

Yes.

I think we've got a little capitalist there, eh?

Well, we're all ready for the off, apart from that Mrs Wilson story.

Ah, gardening magazines.

One of my little hobbies.

Really? I'm quite keen on it, but...

Rush from that.

Oh, yes, indeed. I'll keep that copy aside for you.

Can I see it, Daddy?

No, no, no.

You go and see how old Mrs Wilson is.

All right.

Perhaps we should open the doors now?

Yes.

Mrs Wilson, my daddy wants to know how old you are.

Quick, George, we can get them back before anybody sees them. I'm doing me

Mildred.

Why can't we have a car like normal people?

You've got to cut it, this machine, Mildred. It's a thoroughbred. You've got

quick -talk it.

If you don't start in five seconds, you're going to end up on a scrappy

tomorrow.

I wonder what happened to Mildred. She was supposed to be helping out.

Probably ashamed to show her face.

Why? Never mind.

Mrs. Wilson says she's 72.

It's any of your business.

What? She's 72.

Oh. Well, uh... Happy birthday, Mrs. Wilson.

Now, George.

Smile. Don't let people know there's anything wrong.

Oh, my God.

Go and get them back, George. Go on.

Oh, no.

Ah, Mrs Roper.

I thought it was you. You thought what was me?

You were you.

And looking for anything in particular?

Oh, no, no, just this, that and the other. Oh, well, we have some of this

some of that. Or are you more interested in the other?

Well, it's gardening magazines. That's what I'm really interested in. Oh, yes,

we had some of those. Now, what happened to them?

Did the vicar buy them?

Eh? Oh, no, no, no. Come to think of it, didn't you contribute some gardening

magazines? Oh, yeah, yeah, I believe I did. Now, they were good. I wouldn't

having them.

Would...

These be they.

Oh, yeah, right. I'll take the lot. Just a minute.

How much are you offering?

Oh, well, 10p.

Oh, 10p each. That's very handsome of you. No, no, 10p for the box. Oh, they

must be worth, uh, five pounds.

Yeah, but I gave them. Well, then you know what they're worth. Let's have a

look. Oh, no, no, no, right.

No, uh, five quid. Yeah, that's, uh, that's very fair.

Well, then, Christina, I need good help out of Mr.

Fourmile's store.

Yeah, I've got them, Mildred. I've got the magazine.

Oh, yeah, afternoon.

Oh, God, Nygma.

I think you're keen on it.

Not so you'd notice, no.

There, Mr. Formeyer's stall.

Right. You should get plenty of wear out of those, thank you.

Tristram!

Oh, hello, Milford. You finally made it then. Yes, well, Barry Sheen had a bit

of trouble starting.

Oh, that's a nice suit.

Yours for two quid. Done.

Hello.

There you go.

Thank you.

How much is the dead buggy?

Oh, yes.

Oh, that's very smart.

Of course, you don't quite fit it. It did not fit me, Milted.

Look at these trousers.

Well, hitch them up a bit.

Careful, Milted.

All it needs is a little alteration. Now, we'll take up the trousers and take

the sleeves and, uh, oh, yeah, we'll just take a little tuck in the waistband

here. Well, it'll be similar to getting a new husband.

Don't think I haven't thought of it.

Oh, by the way, George, did you get rid of those mucky little magazines of

yours? Well, I only just got them back.

Oh, George, I am not having this sort of rubbish in my house.

Well, you'd never be ashamed of any human body, Mildred.

Have you seen yourself in the bath lately?

Explain to me, George.

I mean, why do you buy things like amateur gardening, Gardening Weekly,

Rosegrower's Journal... Practical Gardener, Greenhouse Gazette.

They're all gardening magazines.

George!

And when the tadpole is big enough, it breaks out of its cocoon and turns into

butterfly.

I think you may have...

Turned over two pages there, hmm?

Oh, yes, a frog.

And when the frog meets the lady frog, they start it all over again.

Any questions?

No. No, no, no. I think you've made it perfectly clear.

So, can it never really get married to Miss Piggy?

What?

Oh. I suppose anything's possible on ITV.

Ratings mad.

Does Mummy lay eggs?

What?

Uh, watch television or something.

Phew.

Oh, here. I want a word with you. I'm Mr. Roper.

Why are you wearing one of my old suits?

Never mind that. I'll... Eh?

Oh, blimey.

It's 185 quid for a box of gardening magazines. What was the matter with

Well, they're all gardening magazines.

I see. And what were you expecting to find? Well, I expected... Well, I mean,

thought... Well, you know what was underneath.

Oh, them.

I tossed them in the incinerator. Best place for that sort of smut. George, you

are not to bother Mr. Formeyer with... He's burnt them.

Burnt... Burnt what, George?

I know nothing about them.

Geoffrey, what are these doing on top of the wardrobe?

No!

I, um, I thought they might be good for, uh, lagging the pipe.