Original subtitles

We three kings of Orléans are, one in a taxi, one in a car, one a scooter,

blowing his hooter, following yonder star.

Star of wonder, star of light, star with royal beauty bright,

westward leading, still more speeding, guide us to thy perfect light.

Christmas night in the workhouse.

Hello, Diana.

And a merry season's greetings to you, too.

I said a merry season's greetings to you, too, Diana.

So I think... Got our earplugs in, have we? I can't hear you.

I've got my earplugs in. How long for?

I... I said, how long before?

Until the puke -making, shattering, dirty, dewy -eyed, groveling, soppy

Christmas can is when I'm truly over.

Now, go away.

I can smell the skunk urine you use as aftershave.

Well, guess what, Diana?

Just for Christmas, Harvey's going to get Mr. Cork, our homicidal chef, to

you up, fry the bits in dirty oil, and feed you to the rest of the boring old

croaks round here.

who was serving with me.

Is Diana going to keep up this unremitting gloom again this Christmas?

Not a chance.

Got just the thing to cheer her up with, though. Oh, what's that?

A red costume with a jolly white beard.

What do you think it is?

I think you're going to dress up as a tomato with a fungal growth.

Why don't you take your mistletoe and chase your women?

You should try it. They never say no at Christmas.

I think I'll stick to my tomato outfit.

Ho, ho, ho!

What do you think of this?

Oh, look.

Here's an article about an accident on the M1 last night.

A juggernaut ploughed head -on into a large wooden vehicle which appeared to

have no wheels.

Injured were eight reindeer and a silly old fool dressed in a red costume and a

white beard.

Ah, kissy -kissy.

Get off, Basil.

Well, it's Christmas.

Kissing under the mistletoe time.

Christmas spirit, Jane.

All right.

You can kiss my pussycat.

Who's that?

Willem. A boy?

What do you take me for?

A dirty old man.

Now, don't stop harassing the lady.

And go and help with the decorations.

There should be an alternative non -Christmas for the bloody -minded and

at heart.

I mean, how can you be a decent manic depressive with all these cretins all

the place grinning at you all the time? Ah!

Hello, Quokkie.

What you got there, then? Elephant's bog brush?

Christmas tree.

Didn't know you people believed in Christmas.

Sure we do.

Why shouldn't chefs believe in Christmas?

Quite right.

Pardon my bigotry.

My children really looking forward to seeing Mr. Santa Claus.

Oh, dear. Haven't they heard about Santa this year?

What?

What? Sorry.

I don't believe you.

No, it's true.

Jane told me.

Well, that's five people I've upset today.

Who can I have a go at now?

A bit late to mug the postman.

I'd rather go down to the library, set fire to that nativity thing.

Snap the legs off those little lampposts.

Basil?

Yes, Jenny?

Are you looking at my bottom?

Yes, Jenny.

Oh, that's all right, then.

I thought you'd been looking a bit peaky this week, but obviously you're OK.

It's just that I'm a bit exhausted.

It's always the same at Christmas time. The wild women come from far and wide

for Basil's special Christmas box.

A world of his own.

These are pretty tatty decorations.

Yeah, they're last year's. Mr Bain said the entertainment budget's better this

year. Really? What on?

God knows. All you've had this year is that dreadful fat singer whose knickers

fell down.

And a magician whose rabbit got eaten.

And a visit to the wet T -shirt contest.

Wet T -shirt?

Yeah, you remember that place where that Polish woman kept saying, hello, big

boy, and grabbing me near the regents?

When was that?

Oh, perhaps you missed that one.

Hello, Jane.

Oh, you look so attractive with your nostrils all white and pink.

Don't worry, Basil, I am distressed. Why?

Diana has just... told Mr Kwok, the chef's children, that Father Christmas

be coming this year because he's been arrested for shoplifting.

Mr Kwok says we can forget about the turkey.

He's going to cook my cat.

But there won't be nearly enough to go round.

Sorry,

Jake. I'll talk to Diana.

Oh, never mind the talking. I've a much better idea.

Battle? Knock,

knock. Who's there?

Tom. Tom who? Tom Ballard.

That's not funny.

That's what my mother said.

Hello, senorita. It is I, Elcord Dobies, the great bullfighter, steaming at the

nostrils with desire.

I'm not in the mood, Tom.

Well, I am. I'm fighting fit and full of the joys.

Can I jump in?

Is that what you think it takes? A rush of blood and a rose between the teeth,

and I'm going to break the habit of a lifetime and make love before lunch?

Put a knot in it, Tom.

Well, you know what Masters and Johnson said?

If you don't use it, you'll lose it.

Use it? I bet they couldn't even find it nowadays.

How about a cup of tea? Ah, that's better. Much more English. No sex,

We're having a cup of tea.

Cold battle. It was a silly idea.

Oh, do you know, I seem to get fewer and fewer Christmas cards each year.

Probably because you don't send any.

Probably because all my old chums are dying off.

yet another muddy footprint along the corridor to Snuffsville.

I've been meaning to talk to you about this appalling state of gloom you plunge

into every Christmas.

What about it? Well, have you ever considered that depression might be

infectious? I suppose it could be. It is. It's driving us all up the wall.

No, Diana, it's not fair.

We can cope with the usual awful you, but when it comes to Christmas, you

go into overdrive.

At the first sniff of a Santa, you're out with a machine gun mowing down any

little crocus of joy that might pop up in our dismal quagmire.

Would you want me to change my personality?

Do you want me to be dishonest? Just to pander to some half -baked feelings of

holy humbug based on a somewhat dubious historical fact?

Dubious? Jesus was born halfway through January.

Been proved.

And furthermore, the likelihood of a virgin birth... All right, all right!

Be miserable if it makes you happy.

The only thing I like about Christmas is our Christmas entertainers. Ah, well.

I look upon their achievements as the high tide of human futility.

Well, this year... I mean, how can you appreciate real despair until you have

endured the man who eats matchboxes and lavatory paper while playing the nose

harp?

How can you really comprehend the full horrors of eternal damnation until you

have suffered the man who shoves his hand up an emu's bum?

Rumour has it that the entertainment fund is empty.

What? But we've only had a rabbitless magician and a Nicholas Fatwoman.

Precisely, but there is no money left in the fund.

Do I detect a cash till plundered by the fishy fingers of our favourite fart

face? Better check it out, number one.

Carry on.

To Harvey.

Happy Christmas.

Love, Harvey.

To Harvey.

Happy Christmas.

Love, Jane.

Yes, Harvey.

Jane, I've been thinking.

Oh, do you want an aspirin?

I've been thinking what a wonderful person I am, Jane. Oh, you are, Harvey.

I'm not sure you should be the one to say no.

Well, you say it then. Oh, you're a wonderful person, Harvey.

Again. You're wonderful.

You see, I was right.

It's a popularly held opinion.

Now, I was thinking that being such a great chap here was about time I did

something wonderful for all those people near and dear to me.

Who might that be, Harvey?

My little flock here and, of course, my chief shepherdess, you, Jane.

You want to do something for me?

I do indeed, Jane. In fact, I'm going to ask you a question, and if you give me

the right answer, it'll make me a very happy man.

Oh, my goodness.

What is it?

In fact, the right answer could make us both very happy.

Yes!

Well, actually, Jane, I've already done it. What?

I did it this morning.

On your own?

Well, it isn't that difficult. I just picked up the phone and ordered it.

Ordered it?

Ordered what?

Oh,

you've ordered the ring.

I've ordered my new jacket.

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.

Don't you think it would make everyone deliriously happy to see their favourite

Harvey dressed in a snappy new jacket?

What's the matter, Jane? It'll only cost 300 quid.

What are you snivelling about?

the offer to marry you.

Right in one.

Well, what can I do for you? Well, now, we're two floors up. There's the window.

See if you can work it out for yourself.

Thank you.

Thank you, Diana.

Always rely on you to come up with something totally unspeakable for

Which is why we are here.

What's happening with the Christmas show this year?

Ah. Well, who's coming down?

There's a strong movement in favour of Des O 'Connor.

Well, Jane likes him. Well, I think most of the women want the Chippendales.

I've got a better idea, which I'm sure will meet with your approval. I doubt

As you know, there is within me a strong, driving Christian ethic.

I think I'm going to be ill.

And when the spirit of Christmas descends across the land like a blanket

humility and kindness... Where's the chuck bucket?

Well, then I have this tendency to let the milk of human kindness flow from me.

Very messy.

What have you done with the loop?

I...

I've given it away to the poor and needy.

You've what? Yes.

Let's all hope they have a wonderful Christmas.

Well, if it be true. Which is highly unlikely.

Well, it is Christmas, the time for miracles. I find the virgin birth easier

believe. You're Duncan Harvey. Here you are.

£300 worth.

Oh, boy!

Isn't it fabulous?

Sting's got one of these. Now I'll be able to save rainforest and poor green

women.

How much did this rag cost?

300 pounds.

And how much is the short in the entertainment fund?

Weasel bread. Now, just a minute. You don't think for a minute I would have...

We don't think we know. You're a dead man, Harvey Baines. You are going to

from the highest tree. But it was my own money.

The entertainment fund. He admits it. He spent the entertainment fund on a

jacket for himself. What do we do with him?

Let him go.

Let him go. Let him go.

No, no, how could you?

This is Harvey.

Our Harvey, who has led us all through thick and thin for so long.

This is Harvey, whose only interest in life is that his little flock should be

happy.

to the dogs.

Very light snack.

True.

We'd be in jail for murder. Nonsense. We'd be heroes.

Cut.

We'd be setting an example to old age throughout the land.

You don't like the way your blood -sucking yuppie is running your home?

off the North Tower.

He could start a new national sport.

Yes, yes, all right.

As it happens, I have a droll little idea which might get our own back and do

bit of Christmas good at the same time. What?

I'm going to make Harvey's words come true.

But are we going to get our Christmas entertainers? Oh, I doubt it. Who's

to come down here for nothing?

Even Death O 'Connor would want a cab fare.

Well, if there's going to be no Christmas show...

I shall stay in bed till Boxing Day. Oh, you can't do that. Oh, yes, I can.

Well, what about me? What about you?

Well, you'll ruin my crystals if you don't cheer up. I mean, you and I are

last thing each of us are going to have.

I know that that may fill you with horror, but I need you to keep me going,

to shrink away, folding your paws in the back of a cave.

I don't look upon the thought of you as my last lover with any horror, Tom.

Oh, good.

But I don't look upon you as my last lover.

Well, why the seasonal gloom?

Oh, just because, because of a million factors that I don't want to worry you

with. But you must share the ups and the downs.

No. You're too vulnerable, and I'm too English.

Too private, too self -contained.

Even if we were wed tomorrow, I would still have my secrets and you yours.

Is there any chance of us being wed tomorrow?

No, there bloody well isn't.

Thank God for that.

No one to play with.

Right.

Positive action.

First fixed Harvey, then fixed Diana.

Hello, Marion, yes.

Is Tom here? Yes, how are you?

You've done what?

You've dropped your pills in the fish tank?

Just a minute, just a minute. First, would you mind asking Geoffrey to take

shopping?

Now you can dive in and get them.

Bye.

Hello?

Oh.

An answering machine.

Hello?

Machine? Person here?

Would you tell Sarah that Sir Edmund Hillary rang to say that her aunt has

into a deep sulk and refuses to leave base camp and would she bring up the

ultimate weapon?

You coming with us, Jeff?

No, I'll stay here.

Oh, I slept through my siesta.

I'll just make a little nap in the back.

Is she all right?

She has pills to help her sleep and others to wake her up.

Unfortunately, she dropped all the wake -up pills in the fish tank, so she tends

to sleep a lot.

I really love shopping malls, you know, they're my kind of places.

You know, a lot of people go on about Greenwich Village and the Left Bank, but

not me. No, sir.

Give me the sovereign shopping mall any day. Did you know that here we have the

47th highest square footage devoted to DIY in the whole of the country? Who

needs a Sistine Chapel? Right.

I mean, you really feel in the hub of things here. It's what we used to call

groovy.

I mean, I can just jive on down the mall and groove into Wilkins, Tuhar and DIY

Centre. And in no time at all, I'm rapping with the guys about kitchen

waterproof sealants, those little bendy things that hold wires to the skirting

board. I don't know how you stand the excitement, Geoff. You've just got to be

hit bad.

Yeah, get on down, you funky dog.

I suppose you'd rather pop in and check out the new Scandinavian pine corner

unit. No, Geoffrey, I do have to think of my heart.

Right. And what are we doing here, then?

I have decided to do some good.

Good what?

Some good.

Goodness. I want to enact an abstract. Be good.

Oh, you mean buying your brown money into the plaster dog?

A bit more than that, Jeffrey.

I want to do two good things. Firstly, I want to cure Diana of her Christmas

miseries. We just passed the gun shop.

And secondly, I want to help someone. Not sing about it or talk about it, but

actually do it.

That sounds a bit like socialism, Dan.

Jesus probably wants a bit of a socialist.

Yes, but he didn't live around here, did he?

I mean, he didn't really comprehend the concept of the welfare state, whereby we

all pay our taxes and the state looks after those who are having a bit of a

rough trough.

You mean like those two down there?

They're just faking it, Dad.

After they've picked up a hundred quid or so, they'll pop round the corner, get

into decent clothes, jump into their Saab turbos and nip off to the golf

Probably right, Geoffrey. I expect all those cardboard city folk are just

eccentric millionaires on the lam.

Right.

Geoffrey, I want to buy a couple of Christmas presents, so why don't you go

have a quick snort of pine resin and I'll meet you at the car.

Oh, right, eh? Great.

Might even treat myself to a couple of oatmeal brackets.

I wonder if I could give up my only begotten son.

Mind you, wouldn't want him back three days later.

Back away, Mr. Quark.

I show you. No Santa, no turkey.

You eat pussycat.

Okay, Jane, all clear.

This is all your fault, Diana.

William's in fear of his life.

Serves him right. Flea -ridden old mange bag.

I thought you were staying in bed for Christmas. I have got a royal visitor.

And here she comes.

Hot -ho, Antonio.

Happy Easter.

Hello,

Auntie. Don't call me Auntie.

Where's my great -niece? In the boot with a bottle of gin. What?

She's right here. Here.

Oh, she's looking peaky. Oh, she's fine.

Is that outfit warm enough? Oh, it's boiling.

There you are.

Her cheeks are very red. She's pleased to see you, for goodness sake. Right,

what have you been saying?

What are you doing here, anyway?

Now, you take her down to your place, and I'll go grab the guest room. What?

You're not staying here?

No, I'm flying to the moon. Just get her in out of the cold, please.

There's nothing to grin about, you know. Not round here.

Antonio.

Fertile bagage.

Pronto, or I'll poke over your eye out.

Come on, my little sweetmeat.

If you're good for your great aunt, we are going to go poisoning pigeons in the

park.

Help!

Please don't hurt me. You can have all my money and my drugs.

Oh, God.

Help!

Had a good sleep, Marius? We're going to be killed.

These are my new friends, Dave and Sally.

How are you? I'm Dave.

I'm Sally. Hi.

Here we are.

Look at this thing.

Best plain veneer this side of Basingstoke.

Good work, eh?

None of your Eastern European rubbish there.

Wonderful. I knew you'd like them.

Dad?

Yes? Are there two unemployed persons in the back of the Volbeck?

What are they doing there, Dad?

They're going to spend Christmas with us.

What?

Look, I'm most frightfully sorry, but there's been a bit of a mistake.

My father has a slight problem with the balance of his mind, so if you'd like to

take this 50p and be on your way, I'd be most grateful.

But we've lost our pitch now, and we've been invited by this gentleman and

scholar to come and pass a happy yuletide with him.

But you can't stay with us. I mean, we had children and neighbours.

Well, our house strained.

No, you can't do this to us.

But what about love and goodwill and helping your fellow man?

Well, that's all very well on Christmas cards or burnt into small slabs of

Malaysian teak with a hot poker and tastefully displayed on your

but this is real life.

You can't just run around the home counties opening your doors and letting

anybody in.

Why not?

The innkeeper let Mary and Joseph use his stable.

Yes, but he hadn't just put down a new easy -block parquet floor on his rotten

stage.

I'm sorry, Dad, it's just not on.

I'm a Christian.

I go to church.

I put up the trestle tables for the fates. Marion fills all her used pill

with jam for the handicap.

I know there is a line, and I'm afraid you've stepped way over it. These people

are not coming into our house. It's all right, Geoffrey. I was only kidding.

I wouldn't condemn anyone to a Christmas to watch Marion chew her way through

the tree decorations.

You did that once.

I've taken it to Bayview.

Chad? You heard what he said. Put down, Geoffrey, and open all the windows.

Now then, my little Babaloo, would you like me to tell you a story?

I don't know very many, but... Oh, yes.

There's one about a dozy mole called Cinderella.

She went to a ball, met some chinless prince who was so dumb he couldn't

remember what she looked like, only her shoe size.

Oh, yes, what about Snow White and the Seven Dwarves?

We're not allowed to call them dwarves nowadays.

Snow White and the Seven Vertically Challenged Persons.

Never mind.

Do you know, you're very beautiful.

You're the only beautiful thing left in the world.

Missy, wow.

The itsy -bitsy bootable -est bundle in the whole wide world.

With impy -dimpy -wimpies in your icky -chicky -winkies.

Ugly little bruiser, isn't she?

And she's grown.

Well, they're supposed to. They're not bonsai plants.

She smells, too.

Oh, well, I'll take her over to the guest room. You move her one inch, and I

will break both your arms.

She is mine. You are but the thing what bred her.

Goodness, an outburst of human feeling.

I can feel, I can feel.

Cynicism is merely the romantic's condom.

It protects you from the terrible scourges of uncontrolled emotion.

Why do you need to protect yourself from your feelings?

When you've travelled the world, when you've seen humanity at all its awful

excesses, when you've seen little things which would be like chubby chops here,

dying of starvation after a life of three miserable weeks.

You either protect yourself or you go under straight away. Diana! We do not

that we are born in this black pudding of a country of ours.

We should all be dragged by the scruff of the neck round the cesspits of this

planet. That'd soon open our eyes to what's wrong with humanity.

Half of us have no food or medicine, and the other half are worrying about

something called lifestyle.

Then to add insult to cosmic injury, once a year we all get together and talk

about peace and goodwill to our fellow man.

stuffing yet more food into our fat, overfed faces.

It's disgusting.

The whole of humankind is disgusting.

Well, I'm really glad I came.

I'm sorry.

No, it's right.

But you can't suffer for everyone, Diana.

Isn't that what Jesus was all about?

I think he was better trained for it than you.

And he had friends in high places.

I know I'm a boring old cane who ruins everyone's life. Oh, it's not that. It's

just we don't achieve anything.

All you're doing is salving your own conscience.

You hold up a banner saying I'm not part of the humbug, but you're not actually

helping the people you're bleeding for.

I wish you wouldn't see through me with such alarming clarity.

So you're going to stop all this staying in bed for Christmas nonsense? Get one,

darling. Why should I?

Because if you don't pull it together...

Princess Diana will go and see Santa without you.

You wouldn't, would you?

Bloody hell.

So in the end, the guy says... So in the end, he says, I was just standing at

the corner of the street, peeling an orange, when this guy came running round

the corner, backward, and impaled himself on my knife.

Eighteen times, Your Honour.

I'm not sure about this.

Oh, you know, another filly in the stable.

Have we got any mistletoe left?

I've burnt it, Basil.

Oh, I just have to rely on my natural charm, I suppose.

Hello, I'm Basil the Bonker.

Steady on, Basil.

Meet our two new guests, Dave and Sally.

All right, now, Basil. Nice to meet you. Oh, you're Scots, are you?

Do you know what I've got under my kilt?

Your knees, I hope.

Jane, call the police.

Squatters have moved into my flat.

That's your guess, Harvey.

My what?

Your guess.

Tom found them in the shopping mall.

He's put derelicts in my flat?

Well, we'll see about this. Police, Jane.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Who are these?

Well, this is Dave, a musician of credit and renown.

And this is Sally, who's agreed to be my concubine.

What are they doing here? They're here to save your soul, Harvey.

Did you not say that you had given the entertainment budget to the poor and the

needy? I might have done. And then you happened to find out that, in fact, you

had accidentally spent it on a new jacket?

Sort of. Well, you're...

Well, here's a chance to make amends. If Dave and Sally stay in your flat for a

while at your expense, maybe God will forgive you.

God?

Well, Diana, then.

If you show a smidgen of Christian charity, perhaps Diana won't get on with

lawyer mates to come down here and skin you for embezzlement.

It's blackmail.

Fun, isn't it?

I won't forget this.

You make sure you don't.

Thank you, Diana.

It's all this nonsense.

Dave and Sally are rehearsing the carol singing group.

Jenny's leading, and they're all going round singing tonight.

It'll all end in tears. They'll have rottweilers set on them, they'll freeze

death, there'll be at least three coronaries, and the jolly Glaswegian

will mug them for the takings.

Why don't you go and play with baby Diana?

Mr. Quark has eaten her.

Oh, dear!

Climbing Everest.

Base camp to summit party. Base camp to summit party.

Come in, Captain Tom. Blizzard approaching over...

Edmund Hillary at base camp. Come in, summit party.

Wind speed increasing.

Have you gone right out of your mind?

Back?

Well, it's Thursday. We're up Everest.

What are you talking about, up Everest?

You're crackers.

I was with the flying doctor at Wallandini Bay.

Can we finish this conversation right now?

I've got a frontal lobe collapse coming on.

What do you want?

God knows.

Oh, yes, I wanted to say something.

What? Tokenism. Pure tokenism. What is? These bums of yours.

Bums? Am I multi -bummed?

This hippie pair... who seem to have captivated our genteel brethren.

Well, what about them? Well, they are tokens.

You are all sitting around feeling all smug and worthy because you've managed

drag in a pair of not -too -dangerous down -and -outs.

I'm just doing my bit. Well, you are a fool, and you have no comprehension of

human behaviour or human dignity.

If I was that pair being patronised by a bunch of middle -class leftovers, do

you know what I would do?

I would rob you all blind and hit the road.

Yes, but you're not normal.

I shall carry my jewellery with me while that pair are around.

But come on, don't just sit there. Go and get your coat. We're going Christmas

shopping. I thought you didn't believe in the commercial piracy of the season.

It is not for me. It's for the dwarf.

We are going to see what's his name. Which particular what's his name?

What's his name?

The one who clashes with the bloody pillar boxes.

You're going to have to get a bigger car.

You could always put the baby on the roof.

Do you want to die right now?

Oh, look, she died out.

We're going to go and see Santy Wanty. We're going to the Brotty Grotto to get

some crazy wedgies.

I don't know how to talk to babies, do I? That's how they do it in Doris Day

movies.

Just talk to Diana normally.

Or she'll end up talking like Road Runner.

Let's go sort out this Santa character.

Yes, it'll be bloody Easter before we get in here.

Well, as a lad, you didn't have to wait this long to see Santa. When you were a

lad, there weren't five million Santas ripping you off on every street corner.

Right. And when I was up Everest... You saw Santa flying past.

Oh, were you there, too?

The queue's moving now.

Goodbye.

Excuse me. We were ahead of you.

You were not.

Diana, Christmas spirit, don't upset the baby.

Oh, so sorry, after you.

Age before beauty.

Isn't she a bit young to be seeing Santa?

Why? Well, she won't know what's going on.

This child is not only extraordinarily beautiful and of impeccable lineage, but

she also has more brains in her little finger than your snotty little lump of

ectoplasm has in its entire body.

Well, go on, it's your turn. Come along, Derek.

I'm a child, Derek.

And she's got fat ankles.

Come along, Derek.

If you want Barbie doll, you can have Barbie doll.

That's what happens when you call him Derek, dear.

And what have we got here, then? Oh, what does it look like? It's a child

you've been with.

Her name's Diana.

So is mine.

She's named after me, aren't you? And you're the grandparents, are you? Oh,

I'm Dickie Attenborough.

I just got out of Curtis for the holidays.

I see.

And what does little Diana want for Christmas? Oh, she'd love a bunny rug

some fluffy animals. Just a minute, just a minute. Here.

This isn't Santa.

Look, he's about 12.

Mind.

You pay a quid a head to come in here and stand in a bloody queue for hours

Sadie's to call their children Derek and what you get at the end of it. Son of

Santa.

I am so very sorry about all this. Let go of me, you. You're a business.

Kid! Kid!

I'm so sorry about that.

Well, I hope it all works out.

Thank you so much, Diana. I have never... been so embarrassing all my

well, it was a giant swizzle. Children deserve the Santa of their books and

their dreams.

You didn't have to push him off his throne.

You did.

Only because you were trying to hit him. Yes, well, at least for the rest of the

day the children will have a proper Santa.

God help them.

And who do we have here?

Simon. Come along, little Simon.

Tell the real, the one and only, the genuine Santa Claus.

What you would like for Christmas.

Oh, you've got your trousers, haven't you?

Hard luck. They've come to take Harvey away.

of hippie gyppos into this place, you can expect to get robbed blind.

Well, have they been thrown into jail?

They've gone.

Ah.

Told you.

Tokenism. Serves you right. Cleaned you out. Ho, ho, ho. Happy Christmas.

Well, that's just the thing. They haven't cleaned me out.

They've taken my gold puffings, but they've left me my old diamond tie pin.

It's the same as anybody else.

Basil's lost his platinum pen. Deirdre, watch.

But there are no TV or videos gone, just something small and personal.

Unmovable. Shove that lot in their pockets and they're away.

Yes, well, I suppose you're right.

But it doesn't seem to ring true. I'm a very fine judge of character.

Nonsense. Anyone comes to the door, you let them in.

Took us four days to get that double -glazing Jehovah's Witness out the

building.

I'm sure about Dave and Sally.

Well, they didn't take anything of mine. It is all in... my bag and that is

because I am not a sentimental old fool.

Oh, Babaloo, auntie's coming, darling.

All right, my little Babaloo.

Well, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so.

And now I hope you all realise why the asylum shouldn't be run by loonies.

Not that you're all loonies, of course.

I am, I've got a certificate.

What's done is done.

And I don't want anyone to think that I'm pointing the finger of blame at Tom

just because it was all his fault.

I was just trying to be a bit Christian. I guess. But you ended up being a bit

daft and stupid, didn't you?

Anyway, Detective Sergeant Berry appeared to take details from all you

people.

I mean, they didn't steal anything from me, did they? Oh, no, no, no. They're

not that brave.

Harvey. Not now, Jane. I'm enjoying myself.

It's your car.

Well, what about it?

Its little garage is empty.

I think they used it to carry off the swag.

Not my baby. Not my cabriolet baby.

And they've taken little Diana's bunny run. What? They have stolen from my

child?

Come on, Tom. Come on, Mr. Policeman. Chop, chop. I want all the airports

closed.

Better come along now, son.

We don't want any trouble, do we?

Shopping, Mal. We'll start there. As many men as you can spare.

What?

Who am I?

I am a taxpayer and a crime victim.

Now get those men over there and cut the chat, please.

You? I have put out an all -cars alert and told them to send back up to the

shopping now.

Fully armed, I trust? Naturally.

Right, come on.

Tom,

you can work the siren thingy.

I want you all to spread out and interview all the local shopkeepers

get a lead on the known or suspected whereabouts of these villains. Excuse

Miss Trent.

I'm in charge here. Get on with it, then.

Right.

I want you all to spread out and interview all the local shopkeepers

get a lead on the known or suspected whereabouts of these villains.

the police once, you know.

Really? What stopped you?

Ladies.

Told you they weren't silly.

I had a criminal record.

You too?

Vietnam War protests. I chained myself to a police bus.

Didn't look too good on the CV when I applied to join them.

They never caught me.

Forty years I've duped them. Forty years they've been tearing their hair out

down at the yard.

I'm a master criminal.

No, you're not. Raffles, Moriarty, or a great train robber.

They seek him here, they seek him there. The man with no name, the man with no

face, the man with no dog license.

Dog license?

Get the SAS on to me.

Tom, there haven't been dog licenses for donkey's years.

Or donkey's licenses for dog's years, come to think of it.

You mean I'm in the clear?

Tom, you haven't owned a dog for years either.

That's a good point.

My God.

A good lawyer, a thief of clemency, and I have the whole ghastly business behind

me. All I have to do now is to find a 39th step.

Jocelyn. My lovely Jocelyn.

Please marry me once the war is over.

And we have given one and the eye to Johnny German.

Oh, God, I can't bear it.

Gone into mixed movie overdrive. We're going to be seeing Spartacus by the time

we get home.

Hello, Diana.

Oh, hello, Dave. Hello, Sally.

What's going on, then? We are looking for the thieving little bastards who

pinched all our stuff.

And meanwhile, Tom is going loopy.

Well, good luck.

See you later.

What are we doing here?

According to the Big Bang Theory... No, no, no. I mean, what are we doing at

this specific moment?

Oh, helping the police find Dave and Sally. And who did I just speak to?

That's a good point. Dave and Sally have exact doubles.

Oi, ploddies!

Come on, you blind, idle halfwits! Shake a leg, get your fat arses into gear!

The tables have just taken off in a stolen car!

Now, just hold on a minute, Miss... There is no time. Get on with it, man.

Oh!

Get up, you great, feeble woman!

You just come along nice and quiet, Granny.

Granny, me...

assaulting a policeman is almost as bad as having no dog license.

Don't worry, Diana.

I'll get the best legal man around.

Perry Mason.

Make sure your cell has wheelchair access.

You're hurting me. Get off. Get off me.

Bloody fools.

Couldn't catch a cold, let alone a hardened criminal.

And I thought they were very reasonable considering the damage you did them.

Reasonable? That policeman is pressing... charges.

I think his wife insisted.

Look.

The getaway car.

We'd better warn everyone before they're murdered in their beds.

What is all this?

We've all got a present.

Well, what's going on, Diana? Harvey, your car is outside.

I know it is, Diana. Just now the hoodlums stole it. It is here, so

they are too. They are indeed.

What? You mean you got them trussed up, then?

It's only a present for you, Diana.

Well, this is one of my sticks.

And these are my cufflinks. And they gave me little Diana's bunny rug.

And Esme's brooch and Harry's old watch.

Everyone's got their things back.

Well, in choosing to bestow my charity on Sally and Dave, once again I made a

first -rate decision.

What's going on about?

Dave and Sally were just borrowing something from everyone. Then they had

all wrapped up and gave them back to us as an extra Christmas surprise.

Oh, bravo, jolly fine gesture. I knew I was right about them. It's called the

spirit of the season, Diana.

It's called feeding, Harvey.

Never mind the mushy twaddle. They broke in here and stole stuff. They should be

locked up and flogged. Well, you'll have to string me up, too. I got the keys

for them. I was in on the heist.

I think you're all happy about this.

You see, Diana, it's a time for loving and a time for forgiving.

I don't believe this.

You're a load of wet willies.

Keep it coming now, Dave.

Oh, Miss Tillich!

Lovely. They come in here and make Bob Cratchit look like Jack the Ripper and

you all turn to sentimental goo.

Lovely. Positively puke -making.

Nice one,

Corky.

Come on, Diana, it's Christmas. Sing along.

Sing along?

I'd rather fit in a bath full of acid and bang nails into my head. You can

borrow my hammer.

Why don't we just slip away and have some good old -fashioned yuletide

My goodness, it really must be Christmas.