All language subtitles for The Catherine Tate Show s03e02

Where to, gentlemen?

Town square, possible.

Take me through the rocks.

You on holiday?

That's right, dear.

Want to soak up some sights, you know.

You and your friend.

That's right.

Oh, look at the lights glistening off
the sea, Leonard.

Smashing. So, er, what do you get up to
tonight?

Oh, you know, taking some tapper.

Glass of vino tinto for me.

Sparkly mineral for Leonard.

If you want, I can take you to a good
bar.

Moot is grass, yes, but we're not big
drinkers.

He's had bypass.

There's a good bar for men like you.

Lots of boys in shorts.

Disco dance.

Homo lulu is poor.

Say pardon, senor.

I say.

He's called Homo Lulu.

Yes, I heard that bit.

All the boys love Homo Lulu, eh?

Homo Lulu?

What on earth are you insinuating?

Oh, you'll love it.

Lots of pretty boys, eh?

How very dare you.

I've never been so insulted.

What? You mean that you are not... Oh,
dear me, dear gay, dear no, dear...

I just asked whom.

You asked whom?

Whom?

Just because a man spends a little too
much on hand cream and knows all the

lines to All About Eve, you accuse him
of being a receiver of swollen goods.

I didn't mean anything by it.

How very, very dare you.

25 years, mother... I've been coming to
this island and I've never heard

anything like it.

Never in all me bone I find you
impertinento.

Look, my friend.

Stop the car.

We're walking.

This is going to be fierce.

In you go.

Ryan's going to be well impressed when
he sees what I'm doing.

When he sees what I'm doing, mate.

But he'll be looking at me, though.

But he'll be looking at me, though.

But he's only got eyes for me, is he?

But I am well better than you, mate.

But you are dreaming.

But I ain't, though. But you are,
though.

But I ain't, though.

Well, let's find out, then, is he?

Lee? One, two, three, four. Oh, Ryan,
you're so bad. You're so bad. You blow

mind. Hey, Ryan.

Hey, Ryan.

You can't even cheerlead like I can, is
it? No way, mate. Your moods are fierce.

Isn't it though?

But whose moods are better, mate?

You are so the best cheerleader in
Tunbridge Wells.

Why she can't even cheerlead, is it?

What are you chatting about?

I ain't chatting about nothing.

But I heard you chatting.

You didn't hear me chatting. Did you
hear her chatting? I heard her chatting.

Did you hear me chatting? I didn't hear
you chatting.

I weren't even chatting.

See, look, you're chatting. Who told you
I was chatting? I can hear you

chatting. Well, shut up then.

my shape.

Yeah? You were just jealous.

But you don't even know anything about
American football, though.

But I do, though.

But you don't even know what position
Ryan plays in.

Yes, I do, though.

No, you don't know. Yes, I do, mate.

No, you don't, mate. You are so lame.

What position does Ryan play, then?

Quarter pounder.

Quarter pounder.

Is it?

It's a quarterback, mate.

What? It's quarterback.

Quarter pounder. That is well bad.

You thought it was a burger. Take the
shame.

Quarter pounder. Do you want some fries
with that?

Let's tip.

Am I bothered?

Mate. Am I bothered, though? But listen.
But I ain't even bothered.

No. But I ain't even bothered, though.
Yeah. But do you think I'm bothered?

No. I ain't even bothered.

Yeah, but... Is my face bothered?

Is my face bothered, though? Yeah, but
mate... Is this the face of bothered?

Take the shame.

No, because I ain't even bothered.

But he just walked in here.

I don't even care because I ain't even
bothered. But he just walked in here.

did, mate? Ryan just walked in here. No,
he didn't. Ryan just walked in here and

snogged their face off.

I didn't even see him.

But he come in here with his helmet on.

But that was a spaceman.

No, mate, that was Ryan.

He come in here with his helmet on,
stuck his tongue down her throat and

you stood here like a muppet.

It's me.

I'm not bothered. I'm not bothered. I'm
not bothered. I'm not bothered. I'm not

bothered. I'm not bothered.

Just give me a

what have you got

my bed, Neville. It's been like
Spaghetti Junction here today.

Double cheeseburger, no chips.

That's the ticket.

You will not believe who was stood there
stuffing her face with onion rings, not

two hours hence.

Who was that then?

Black woman.

Now on a bender, I suppose.

That's it?

She'd been caning it big -thighly down
gossips.

Well, it was ladies' night, wasn't it?

Bowled up here with a munchies on the
way home.

To America?

No, she's staying with her Auntie Betty
at the Jackson Heights estate.

Threatened going back she was on account
of the lifts being out.

So, she's from around here originally?

Davenport Street.

Her dad ran a tyre shop.

I said, here, Condoleezza Rice, I know
your sister.

She goes, what, ala fiesha? I goes, no,
eggy fried.

She nearly wet herself.

Any sauce?

No, thanks.

Can I sell that with you on Friday?

My name's Sam Speed, Detective Sergeant
Sam Speed, Thames Valley Police.

In 2006, I was on a routine inquiry when
this happened.

I was hit by a car driving at 60 miles
an hour.

When I woke up, it was 1951.

Am I dead, in a coma, or gone back in
time?

over there so it does. How about we help
you back on your bike?

Whatever's happened, it's like I've
landed on a different planet.

This is my house.

At least, it looks like my house.

Yes, Anne, I've been expecting you. I'm
Mrs Willow, but everyone calls me Mar.

Expecting me?

Well, you live for the room, ain't you?

Now, listen up. House rules.

If you're wanting your supper, you'll be
back indoors by 6 .30.

It's liver on Monday, sweet on Tuesday.

Liver on Wednesday, sweet on Thursday.
Food and chips on Friday.

On Saturday, it's Mr Pride, and it's a
roast on the Sabbath.

You'll be in your bed by 10 and sat down
for your breakfast by 7.

You can have bread and dripping during
the week, porridge on Saturday, and a

good suffered sausage every second
Sunday.

And if you see Virginie knocking back
the place, you're to leave her alone.

She's a variety page, but she's promised
to a farmer.

Because I tell you this, police fellow
or no police fellow, if you give me any

trouble, you'll be out of that door
quicker than you could say I do, Lele

Well, don't stand there on the doorstep
doling like a dallard. People will think

I'm a scarlet woman, so they will. No!

Is everything

all right?

No, my salsa partner's gone back to
South America to open a salsa school.

Well, that's good, isn't it?

No, who else am I going to dance with?

Isn't there anyone else at your salsa
class?

They're all beginners.

It's very hard to find someone who can
really dance salsa.

I can do that.

Do I ever.

You're not going to do that.

You don't laugh at all, do you?

My hands are jumping. Don't throw my
head back. So come on now!

Morning, Martin.

Morning, Georgie.

How was your weekend, pet?

Lovely, thank you. We took Michaela and
her friends out for a picnic.

Did her eczema put everyone off their
sausage rolls?

No, that's all cleared up. Good.

Because watching someone scratch
themselves to the blade is not

She's fine now.

Can I borrow your nice four -colour
biro?

Yeah, sure.

I'll tell you where it is.

Me and some of the other girls down at
the Gateshead Community Centre are doing

a little fundraiser next Saturday
afternoon.

Oh, what are you doing?

We're doing a round -the -clock pancake
flip for all the little victims of

sexual harassment in the workplace.

That is a really worthy cause.

Aye, it is.

Did you know that every 38 minutes, some
unsuspecting little temp in a

short skirt bends over to file something
in the bottom drawer and gets shanked

up the arse?

Every 38 minutes?

If you don't believe me, log on to the
website.

www .bummedbytheboss

.co .uk How

much shall I put you down for?

How about 15p an hour?

£3 .40.

For all those...

than their vest top.

So every time they open their mouth to
yawn, someone shoves a cock in it.

Put me down for four pounds.

Four pounds.

For all those half -dressed little dolly
birds whose only thanks for franking

the mail of a Friday afternoon is a face
full of jizz.

Just flash it about.

Aye, that's it.

Lap it off.

Maybe you'd feel a little differently if
you got flashed on a regular basis by

the lads from accounts.

Really, it's all I can afford.

Four pounds it is, then.

I'd like to give you more, but I...
Let's say no more about it, because I

wouldn't want it to come between us.

Oi, Martin.

Get your laughing gear on, now, son!

Sit down and take a weight off.

Makes him supposed to be a young fella.

Well, whether still, get that start back
side of yours, back down the gasworks.

Look at the time. They've told you, once
the petrol jiggery -poe's through,

he'll be out on your ear and they'll do
what you get.

I'll make us a night pot of Lipton's
tea.

Piping hot, if you don't mind.

There's some cigarettes on the side.

Help yourself, why don't you?

Er, thanks.

But I don't smoke.

What is the matter, lad?

Are you feeling a little elsewhere?

No, I don't smoke.

Stick one behind your ear for later.
When are you feeling better?

I bet your guts are hanging out, aren't
they?

Get that down you. That'll fill a hole.

What's this?

It's fatty surprise.

I don't eat meat.

Stop talking gibberish and eat your
giblets.

No, I'm a vegetarian.

And a police officer's a boot.

They're usually going to show business,
don't they?

Mum, are you seeing these days?

Oh, pardon me, I didn't know we had
company.

Hi. How do you do?

Detective Sergeant Sam Speed, Thames
Valley Police.

You keep your eyes out front and your
smiles for your mother.

Don't go putting any ideas into my
genie's head. She's big enough dreamer

is. I've told you before, she's
betrothed to some other farmer and we

onion.

Can't dream, Mum.

You'll do no such thing.

Remember what your grandmother used to
say.

Slow and steady wins the race, but no
good will come from a one -eyed sailor.

Now go into the pantry and help your
father organise his boots.

Get your hat off the table, son. You're
not at home any more, you know.

Mum!

Anyone home?

Hello, Vi.

Vi, whatever's the matter? You do look
queer.

Shh.

Yes. Black as your rat they are, every
last one of them.

My Nellie came over all unnecessary when
she clapped eyes on him.

What a thing to happen.

Now pull yourself together, getting
yourself all hot and bothered.

Come one, come all, that's what I say.

As long as they're decent, laudabiding
citizens, there's no reason why we can't

all live together side by side in peace
and harmony.

However, if they think they can start
knocking on my door with bones through

their noses, they're...

You can't say that.

What's this?

Oh, take no notice of the copper top
here. He's had a knock on the head.

Why, look at the time.

It's ten past six and we haven't had a
theme song yet. Coming to the parlour

for a tune -up's what you need.

Nearly. Well, I mean, I know a few.

Oh, I should love to hear you sing.

You keep your eyes out front, young
woman.

Budge up, Herbert.

Come on then, son, let's see what you're
made of.

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

What a blatant racket you're trying to
get at us all. Oh, my ladders!

Come on, look sharp, Herbert.

Don't stand over there.

Son, you didn't banish yourself so you
had.

Oh, why, what a load of blatant rubbish.

in 10 minutes. Of course they can't do
the show without a drummer. It's

ridiculous. It's a disaster.

What's wrong with them?

Well, Divine Comedy Group, they're a
great group, they're on the show, and

drummer's got food poisoning.

We're about to start in 10 minutes, and
we don't have a drummer, so we can't do

the show.

I can do that.

You can?

Yeah. Well, come through this way.

That's great.

Sorry,

is your guitar out of tune?

All right, Nan.

Oh, thank God you're here. I'm
frightened out of my life.

Well, it's only a mouse, Nan.

Little bastard's been getting me out of
here.

Come on, Nan, get down.

I've been stood up here since seven o
'clock this morning.

Are you sure you've seen a mouse, Nan?

Course I'm sure. It's been up my leg
twice.

He's torn me tights to pieces.

Well, look, it's all right now I'm here.

And the attitude of him.

As soon as I get into bed at night, he
stands outside my door and laughs at me.

No, he's not laughing at you.

Not much he ain't. He gets all his
little mousy mates round and they come

here and they slide about on my lino
till morning.

They think it's a fucking country club.

He's already gnawed through a box of
Ritz.

Now, don't get me wrong, they are very
moorish, but you ain't got all that

money.

Have you put anything down for it?

Yeah, I put a little mattress down by
the stairs.

Where are you?

I mean, poison.

There's a bucket load of it in there,
but he turns his nose up at it.

He ain't got any room, see, cos he's
stuffed his mouthy guts full of

It's just the post.

What, he's using my address now?

He'll be getting me to go and cash his
mouse's gyno next.

What a fucking wimp.

Look, there he is. Oh, where?

Next to the microwave.

He's eyeing up me mint vicar.

And I'll get in there, son, and sort him
out.

I can't use this.

He's been terrorising me for a
fortnight.

Now, you get in there quick enough if
Stephen Gately asked you.

Go on, son, get in there before he tears
the place apart.

No, Nan.

I've done it, Nan.

Did you do it?

Yeah. Finished?

All done. Is it gone?

Yeah, I killed it.

I thought that's what you wanted.

What, to kill me, lovely little Mickey?

That's the only bit of company I hate.

We round about this time, we'd be
settling in to watch Countdown.

I'd throw him a lump of cheese, you
wouldn't hear a peep out of him, tell

day, oh, I will miss him.

I don't know what to say.

I used to put... Radio 2 on in the
afternoon and he'd run up and down them

curtains.

He was a born entertainer.

I'm sorry, Nan.

I'll never be able to look or it's a
cracker in the face again.

I said I'm sorry.

No, it's all right, son.

You weren't to know.