Original subtitles

How much longer are we going to be without food?

Well, if we hadn't made such a fuss about having waitress service, we could

queued up, got it and eaten it by now.

When you're on your feet all day, the least you can expect is to sit down and

rest at lunchtime and have your food served to you like civilised people.

My stomach is bubbling like an atomic power station.

From where I'm sitting, there's a lot of fallout.

We've only got half an hour left to have our dinner.

Lunch. What's the difference?

What do you have in the evenings?

Supper.

Only the working class have dinner and supper.

Professional people like ourselves have lunch and dinner.

Now, look, I'm not working class. I live in a detached house.

Captain Peacock, I live in a flat, but that doesn't go to say that I don't lead

a very refined life.

And in my little nest, we have supper.

Captain Peacock wears a dinner jacket, you know.

Lady Peacock sails downstairs in her tiara.

Fancy a sherry before we have the baked beans on toast, he says.

No, I think I'll wait and have mine with the cocoa.

Don't be facetious, Mr Lucas.

Right, I've had a word with that canteen manageress.

I put on my best smile.

I said, is there any chance of my spaghetti arriving during the reign of

current monarch?

Give me a right here, fool.

I hope she didn't use bad language. She didn't use any language at all.

She just gave me a right here, fool.

Oh, it's intolerable.

It's only half an hour before we have to go back.

Do you know that the whole country's falling apart?

When I was a boy, you looked at an atlas.

There was red everywhere.

That was the British Empire.

Well, it's still red everywhere. Only now it means we owe money there.

I mean, look at this.

Plastic. When I first came here, we had tablecloths and real EPNX.

I mean, look at that.

That's modern science for you.

These scientists are making terrible mistakes.

I read somewhere where they've developed a very large clover for animals to eat.

Now they find out that they're so big the bees can't pollinate them because

their noses aren't long enough.

What are they going to do?

They're going to breed bees with longer noses.

I didn't know they did it with their noses.

You want to watch Richard Attenborough?

But does he do it with his nose?

No. He's the one that runs about in shorts.

telling you how the world began.

Apparently, it all started as thick soup with little orgasms crawling around.

Organisms.

Oh, well, little creepy things crawling around. In that case, when I was in the

kitchen just now, it all started all over again.

You know, it's amazing to think that out of all that...

and after millions of years a sort of man developed.

Yeah, and all of them are different types.

Yes, indeed.

Some of them live in detached houses and some of them in semi -detached.

Well, as a superior detached individual, would you like to go and have a word

about our grub?

That won't be necessary.

It's a far simpler way to get in touch with those whose evolution is not

advanced enough to enable them to communicate on an intellectual level.

What's that, Captain Peacock? One we used to use in the army.

Why?

I was just expressing a concerted opinion.

One of you wish to complain, then? We all do.

Right. What's it all about? Let's have it. We have been sat sitting here for

half an hour and nothing's arrived.

Except you.

Right. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to go out there in the

kitchen and I'm going to tell everyone to make yours a special order.

Oh, thank you. Last.

One more word, you won't get anything at all.

In that case, we shall complain to higher authority.

I couldn't give a monkey who you complain to. As far as I'm concerned,

come down here and run it yourself.

If you don't mind my saying so, they couldn't make a bigger cock -up of it.

It's all very well for you sitting out here like a wrinkled old prune. I'm too

short in there and I've got a poisoned finger.

Cancel my toad in the hole.

Great exception to you calling a senior salesman like Mr Goldberg a wrinkled

prune. Your whole manner is offensive.

Your appearance is unhygienic.

Your emotional outburst suggests that your mental balance is disturbed.

You should see a doctor. You're the one that should see the doctor.

I have no reason to see a doctor. In that case, I'll give you one.

Now, if I'd had my dinner there, I'd have thrown it in her face.

Lunch.

He was so angry, he forgot he was detached.

Let me see that I've got this right.

Mrs. Slocum was...

sitting, the canteen manager came in and Mr. Goldberg complained because she'd

served him poisoned prunes.

Not quite right, sir. We all complained because we hadn't been served at all.

Where did the prunes come in?

They didn't. You haven't been listening. That woman was very obstropolis with

Mr. Goldberg and Captain Peacock. She said he had a face like a wrinkled

Captain Peacock had a face like a wrinkled prune?

No, Mr. Goldberg had a face like a prune.

Yes, I suppose he has, but I'll make a note of that. No, no.

Mr. Goldberg didn't like it at all. In fact, he was very upset.

Then why did he order them?

Order what?

Prunes!

He didn't order them.

In that case, he can hardly complain if they didn't arrive.

Excuse me, I don't want to get involved in this, but wouldn't it be better if

you crossed all that out and got on to the next bit?

Well, that's up to you.

I see you have a complaint about the spaghetti.

Now, did the spaghetti arrive badly cooked?

I really couldn't tell you. All I know was it burnt my ear.

I've heard of testing the baby's bathwater with the elbow, but that does

very strange way of testing spaghetti.

I wasn't testing it. I was just complaining because it was so long.

Long spaghetti.

I should have thought you could have cut it.

No, no, that really is a very trivial complaint. I certainly can't take that

on your behalf.

Perhaps we might get somewhere if Captain Peacock told Mr Rumble about his

That should cook us. of ghosts.

You'll regret saying that.

What's all this about a toad?

Ah, well, that happened just after I'd cancelled my toad in the hole. This

and Captain Peacock had a heated exchange and she stamped on it.

And we were all witnesses.

Now, that I have got very clearly. And you certainly have cause for complex.

The canteen manager has had no right whatever to stamp on Mr Humphrey's toad

the hole.

Yes, that just leaves one thing further to clear up.

What is that, Mr Roper? Oh, the cooked goose.

Told you.

Enter.

Excuse me, Mr Rumbolt. I don't normally interrupt a meeting like this, but there

is an emergency.

There's a deputation to see you from the canteen kitchens.

Tell them to make an appointment.

Yes, Mr Rumbolt. Just can't see anybody. Nilly willy.

I shouldn't tell them to go away if I were you. They're in a very, very

mood. And the eye -tie chef's livid.

Somebody criticises Toad in the Old and he's waving his chopper about.

Oh, well, show them in, Harmon.

Tiny step this way, brothers.

That's maple, vegetables, fleur, fish, young Henry, trainee dog's body,

Signor Baroli, master chef, and Mrs Yardwick, manager Hess.

Thank you, Harmon. All right, very good, sir.

Right, let's have it out.

I'm fed up with this lot.

I've had it up to here with them. The chef must be drowning in it.

Quiet, Lucas.

That's difficult, Bim. All lip and let's have a look at your knockers.

That snooty one's all mouth and trousers.

And as for her, she's just as common.

Oh, how dare you!

Go on, tell her you live in a detached house. You shut your stakeholders.

You are common.

Not as common as what you are.

My mother always said, common is as common does.

And what's that supposed to mean?

I don't know, but she always says it when my dad blows his nose on the

tablecloth.

Look, I don't think we should arty -party among ourselves in front of these

cooks and bottle -washers.

You're a pompous old snob.

When asked for her, she looks as though she's got a permanent smell under her

nose. And the nearer you are, the stronger it gets.

Brother, did you hear that? Temper's afraid and feelings are running high. I

think we should all calm down. Ah, shut up, Jaggers.

How dare you speak to senior management like that? I don't have to speak to you

at all. I should go to Mr. Grace and get a personal written apology.

Andiamo.

Eh.

Rizzo.

Well, how about that?

Yeah, that's the sort of attitude we have to put up with all the time.

I'm glad it's all come out.

as my mother used to say, better out than in.

My mother used to say that, but I didn't like to mention it.

Well, I hope you got a verbatim report of everything she said. No, no, but I

shall make a note of it now.

She called you Juggiers.

Yes, I remember that.

And she said Captain Peacock was snooty and all mouth and trousers.

Mr. Lucas, let it be recorded, was, in her opinion, all lip and let's have a

look at your knockers.

Is that spelt with a K?

I don't know. I've never seen them written down.

Yes, well, we won't make too much of that.

And she said I walked about with a smell under my nose. I can't imagine where

she got that idea from.

Now, what did she say about you, Mr Humphreys? Nothing. I came out of it

completely unscathed.

Which is unusual for you, isn't it, Mr Humphreys? It is, Mr Lucas.

I mean, you usually have a scade somewhere along the line, don't you, Mr

Humphreys? I'm a martyr to them, Mr Lucas.

Speaking for myself, and I am unanimous in this, I think we ought to get rid of

the lot of them and get some decent stuff in.

Yeah, we could run that canteen better than what they does.

Do, Miss Bronze?

Yeah, well, we could run the canteen better than what they does do.

That don't sound right, do it?

It certainly don't, Miss Bronze.

Rombold here.

Oh, hello, Rombold.

That night... Manager S from the canteen has been to see me.

Apparently there have been a lot of complaints about your lot.

He wants to admit an apology.

Yes, well, I intend to take a very firm stand on this, sir. She was very

aggressive indeed, and my department feel that the whole canteen staff is

incompetent. In fact, they think they could do a damn sight better job

themselves. Yeah!

Well, in that case, they can start tomorrow morning.

The canteen staff's thrown in their overalls and walked out.

What shall I do, sir?

Well, you'd better sort it out, juggies.

Of course, Miss Bronze, if you hadn't opened your mouth, we'd all be on our

home by now.

Well, we said we could do it, so it's up to us to acquaint ourselves with the

kitchen and make a plan of battle before we serve lunch tomorrow.

There's muck everywhere.

If my mother saw this, she'd have a fit.

To think we've been eating the food what they've been cooking in here.

It's like the Maori Celeste.

They've even left something on the stove.

That's my tone in the home.

Well, let's not be daunted by the prospect.

As the chief instructor on my Royal Army Service Corps catering course used to

say, cooking requires very little intelligence.

Otherwise, women wouldn't be able to do it.

Well,

if that's the way it's going to be, I'm going. Come on, Miss Brahms.

Present company accepted, of course.

We've all heard about your culinary expertise.

And naturally, I shall expect you to be my chief assistant.

Oh, you've elected yourself boss, then.

Somebody has to get things organised, Mrs. Socombe.

Now then, which of us can claim some cooking experience?

Lucas. Well, I boil a nifty tin of baked beans.

Let's see.

Lucas, preparation, serving and washing up.

Miss Browns?

Oh, she's had a lot of experience in the kitchen, only very little of it to do

with cooking.

Let us be serious, Mr Lucas.

Well, actually, my mum does most of it.

Well, what happens when you're on your own?

Oh, well, I get a bit of garlic sausage and I fry it up with some onions and

bubble and squeak.

No wonder you're on your own.

thing on a stick.

Where did you learn to do that?

Well, I had this Greek boyfriend and he fancied a local dish.

I bet you had a lot of experience in the kitchen.

You've got a one -track mind, you have a dirt track.

I once made some toffee.

We had to throw away the tin. It cost 37 pounds.

It must have been a very expensive tin.

Yeah, my teeth were in it.

the kitchen ever since I was tall enough to see over the edge of the table.

When she was making bread, she used to give me bits of dough to play with, you

know, and I used to make bread men and put currants in for eyes and buttons.

One day I put a bit of candied peel where I shouldn't have done and I

go in the kitchen for a fortnight.

Sir Humphreys, we don't often have bread men on the menu.

Is there anything else you can do?

Well, let me try and give you one of my typical menus.

Oysters Rockefeller.

quails in aspic, deviled lobster with mange too, followed by baked Alaska and

marron glacé. Of course, if we've got visitors coming, I'll do something

special.

This is a canteen, Mr Humphreys, not a trade union dinner.

How about you, Mrs Logan?

Well, I just do simple cooking to my own taste. But you'll never see a dirty

plate in my kitchen.

And if there are any leftovers, my pussy gobbles them up in a flash.

Well, I vote that Mrs. Slocum is the chef.

Let us agree, then, that Mrs. Slocum is head cook. But we'll all have to pull

together to get the meal prepared and served.

Right. Before we muck in, we'd better muck out.

Come on, let's get this washing up done.

I'll wash, you wipe.

Can I have that other rubber glove?

What do you mean?

Well, I've got to put my hands in water. I don't want washed -day red hands.

Well, what about me? I've got to handle the wet plates.

Captain Peacock, could we have a ruling on this, please?

Yes,

well, Mr Humphreys will dip with his right hand, on which will be the right

glove. He will use the dish mop with his left hand, which will not go in the

water. He will then pass the plate to Mrs. Slocum, who will receive it with

left gloved hand.

She will wipe it with the tea cloth in her right hand and pass it to Mr.

Goldberg, who will stack it.

Where would we be without you, Captain Peacock?

Well, now, while we're working, can we discuss possible menus?

Who's got an idea of tartar?

Well, why...

We open the tins now and leave them lying around all night. We can have

them like we usually do.

Well, I think since we've complained, we ought to do something quite different.

Yes, how about soup?

Oh, my mother makes marvellous soup.

She eats all the leftovers.

She empties the fridge into a big pot, then puts it in the oven on regular

three. The morning after, she drains it and soothes it and strains it and

whatnot, you see.

Do you know, the other day she found a death aid in it.

Oh, but the soup did.

I don't think soup is very inventive.

Well, why don't we take all the bits and pieces we would have put in the soup,

put it in the mincer and call it pâté?

Why didn't you suggest that a bit earlier? I mean, all the bits and pieces

gone in the pig bin.

Not all of them. That lot's just gone on the floor.

Do be careful, Miss Browns. I'm not insured for tripping over gristle.

Mr. Humphrey, lend us your glove. I'm not touching this with me bare hands.

Stop the production, man. I'll do it myself.

and only women are frightened of mice.

What was it? A frog.

What's a frog doing down there?

Perhaps some fairy prince was rude to a gypsy violinist. How do I know?

Get out of the way or get rid of it.

That's a rule.

That's a living, thinking thing.

Possibly of royal blood.

Somebody put it in here and get rid of it. No, no, no, no.

No need to use that.

I'm used to handling frogs.

I was always rescuing them from the goldfish pond.

Hey, wait.

Hey. Shh.

Hello. Hey.

Hello. Don't be frightened.

Breathe, breathe.

Breathe, breathe.

Breathe, breathe.

I mean, they're up in a chat.

Breathe, breathe.

Breathe, breathe.

He must have said the wrong thing. He's just jumped through that hole in the

skirting board.

Bog it up with this dishcloth, then he can't get out again. Don't do that.

starve to death.

Well, we can unbog it before we go home. What I want to know is, how did he get

up here in the first place?

He probably came up with the watercress as a tadpole.

Well,

as we haven't had much success with the first course, can we attempt to decide

on the main dishes?

Captain Peacock, are you sure you're not overtaxing yourself, licking your

pencil?

Let us get on with your work, Mr. Lucas.

They used to make a very good steak pie.

Maybe the recipe's still here somewhere.

It's no good producing the same dishes that we've been complaining about.

We've got to come up with something quite different.

Something, well, French, for instance.

Well, if you'd let me have my way with that broom, we could have had frog's

legs, couldn't we?

It's all very well talking about what we're going to give them. We don't even

know what's in the lard they get.

Well, that point had just crossed my mind, Mrs. Tocum. Yes, just after Mrs.

Tocum said it.

Right. There's one whole pig, one whole sheep, and one hole in the wall with a

frog looking through it.

Now then, you can either have meringue glace or crepe Suzette.

had since I was at Wolverhampton.

And that shish kebab was just like you get in a Greek restaurant.

Can I have the recipe?

Well, it's just a question of knowing how to do it.

Coffee to follow, Mr. Harmon?

If I may, Mrs. Logan.

It's the best food we've ever had at Grace Brothers.

I agree. Well done.

The best curry I've had since I was in Wolverhampton.

Keep the change.

Thank you.

Three shishies and two tandooris.

You'll have to wait for your shishies. There's been a rush on them.

Captain Peapock, I'm down to my last shish.

More shishies, Mr. Lucas. I'm shishing as fast as I can.

I'm running out of skewers.

I'm not going to give you your tandoori until you've got your shishies.

Otherwise, your tandoori will get tepid.

Right.

Well, can I have a meringue and a crepe on the same plate?

them animals.

Impressive. Mr. Grace has just taken his place in the executive dining room and

would like the soup to be brought.

There's been a rush on that, so I shall have to see the manager.

Captain Peacock, are you free?

What's the matter, Mr. Humphries? Will you squeeze me another mouth of

I'm having a crisis with the shishies. It's for young Mr. Grace.

One ton of soup coming up.

Please drop everything else, Mrs. Slocum, and take the soup through to the

executive dining room. Yes, Mr. Rumble. Oh, and congratulations to you all.

Everyone's most impressed.

What's he having after?

I will both have the shish kebab. Ah, that's if Mr. Lucas found some more

skewers, otherwise you'll have to have it in a lump.

Mr. Lucas, have you found any more meat skewers? I'm just converting your coat

hanger.

I want my sheepskin too.

Don't worry, it's very much at home. It's hanging on the sheep in the larder.

I was covered in bandages from head to toe with only one eye showing. Oh, dear.

Whatever did the doctor say?

He said, I don't like the look of that eye.

Now,

here's your soup, Mr. Grace.

Real turtle.

Oh, well, good. I learned something with a bit of potty in it.

kitchen and warm it up. No, no, no. I don't like it too hot. It takes it out

me if I have to blow on it.

You can taste the

turtle in it.

Or something.

Well, I'll leave you to it then.

bowl is very full.

Don't drink all of it or you won't have room for what's to come. I'm enjoying

it.

What did he say he was going to have after the soup?

Either a stomach pump or an ambulance.

There's your crepe and your meringue.

And there's your shishies. They've all shriveled. You were too long.

It was the best lunch they've ever had.

Well, we said we could do better than the others, and we did.

How much did we take?

Um, 98 pounds.

Ah, and what were the outgoings?

Uh, Chinese take away 15 quid, Indian take away 32 pounds 50,

Greek take away 59 pounds 25.

Which makes a net loss of, uh... 8 pounds 45 pence.

Thank you, Mr. Goldberg.

2 ,845. If we keep that up every day, we'll be broke in a week.

Well, we could raise the prices.

Well, that wouldn't do much to help my feed.

Oh, my washed -in red hands.

Well, the regular staff won't come back unless they get a written apology.

Well, in times of crisis, the British have always stood firm by their ideals.

On the other hand, we as a nation couldn't have got where we are today

knowing how to compromise.

I quite agree.

Gather round, everybody.

Now then, how does this sound?

We, the undersigned... Oh, very good.

...company apologise to the canteen staff of Grace Brothers for complaining

about the food, the service, the hygiene... And that cow of a

Don't fuck up.