Original subtitles

Hell is gone and heaven's here. There's nothing left for us to fear. Shake your

ass, come over here and I'll scream.

I'm a burning effigy of everything I used to be. You're my rock of empathy,

dear.

So come on. Let me entertain you.

Morning, Mark. Morning, Georgie. How was your weekend, Pat? It was lovely, thank

you. Michaela had her school diving competition.

Did she sink like a stone to the bottom of the pool?

Or is her childhood obesity under control?

Actually, she won first prize.

Hey, I'm that pleased for you.

Can I borrow your nice solar -powered calculator?

Yeah, sure.

I'll tell you where it is.

Me and some of the other girls down at the Jarrow Quaker Jazz Club are doing a

little sponsored event.

Oh, what's this one for?

We're treading water through the night in the Great North Canal for all the

little alcoholics in Jarrow and its surrounding environs.

God, that is a big problem, isn't it? Aye, it is.

Did you know that every 38 minutes, an otherwise upstanding member of the

community pops out to buy a newspaper and rolls back a week later stark

naked and covered in tattoos?

Every 38 minutes?

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

I fucking love you, Doc.

Forward slash, I've told her I fucking

love you.

How much shall I put you down for?

Let's say 20p an hour.

£2 .40?

To spend 12 hours bobbing up and down in a freezing cold canal full of dead

fish, condom and shite?

In that case, I'll up it to 30p an hour.

£3 .60?

For all those brave little single men who cannae afford to feed their families

cos they've spunked the housekeeping on Diamond White.

OK, 35p an hour.

I don't think I've got your full attention, Martin.

Consider, if you will, all those poor little dads.

who turn up to parents' evening completely twatted and end up dancing on

the desktop shouting, Oi, Mr Roberts, look at my knob.

I'm sorry, Georgie, it's all I can afford.

£4 .20 it is, then.

Let's see no more about it, cos I wouldn't want it to come between us.

It really makes you think, though, doesn't it?

David, what is it?

They've hijacked a plane.

We've got 20 minutes to inform the chiefs of staff.

Chloe, can you get in here?

I'm going to need you to send out an urgent email.

This is too sensitive, David. She's not code red.

Scratch that, Chloe. I'll do this myself.

Thank you.

It's good to have the British with us.

Okay.

To all the chiefs of staff.

At 0400 hours this morning, a unified Union airline are headed from Dakota to

Washington and seized by terrorists.

They're demanding that we start to release all political prisoners by 0800

hours, by which time the plane will be over Houston.

If we do not acquiesce to these demands, they would explode the aircraft over

the city center.

This is clearly a matter of the utmost urgency.

Oh.

What is it?

There's no J on this.

What? No J.

Oh, no, there is.

Oh, yeah.

Come on, Tony.

Mother's in there, Tonya. Won't be too ticked.

Lock's wonky, so I'm keeping Dixie.

Wasn't it a lovely wedding, Uncle Derek?

And how's the Naomi's frock, dear?

A symphony in cream.

I wept when I saw those page boys.

Not everyone can carry off the munchkin look, but they're... I did her proud.

I wonder who'll be married next in the family.

Could be you, Tonya.

You still called him that, Darren?

It'll be two years in June.

No signs of a ring yet, though.

It might be you and Uncle Leonard.

I beg pardon?

You and Uncle Leonard, you can now. You know, one of those civil partnerships.

What on earth are you insinuating?

I'm just saying that you and Uncle Leonard could have a gay wedding.

Gay wedding?

Yes, I just thought it might... How very gay.

I've never heard the likes.

I'm sorry, Uncle Derek, are you not... Gay, dear? Oh, dear me, dear? No, dear.

Just because a man minds his P's and Q's and isn't all at sea with a mascara

wand, you assume he travels up the chocolate escalator.

I didn't mean to upset you.

25 years, Mother and I have been putting money in a Christmas card for you.

And this is the thanks we get?

Marry a man?

Marry a man?

How very, very dare you.

And I'd avoid a calf -length skirt in the future if I were you, dear.

Your ankles are too puffy.

Mother!

And I'd just like to remind you that on Bank Holiday Monday, it's our annual

ramble through the local countryside.

The Orange Walk, as we like to call it. And no, you don't need to worry. As

usual, every precaution has been taken to ensure that we avoid normal members

the public.

Something wrong, Sandra?

I'm sorry, Rita.

It's not that I'm not grateful, because I am. But I can't live like this

anymore.

I'm leaving, Russet Lodge.

You can't, Sandra.

Society's not ready.

Well, I am. But, Sandra, I am not creeping around the countryside avoiding

normal people.

I'm not sweeping myself under the carpet like some kind of leper. And I am not

ending up like that.

So what happened, Linda?

Did you have to hack at it yourself with an old pair of kitchen scissors because

the hairdressers couldn't fit you in?

Yeah. You have as much right to a salon finish as anyone else.

I like your fringe, Jenny.

But what's under the hat?

Jenny's new, Sandra.

That's not fair.

hours of basket weaving with nothing to look forward to but a self -esteem

workshop with Mick Hocknall.

Ask yourself, is that fair?

Well, not for me.

I want to go out there and hold my red head up high, and I will.

I know what I am.

I am Ginger.

I am Ginger.

I am Ginger.

I am Ginger.

I am Ginger.

I am Ginger. I am Ginger.

Rita,

I... I can't.

Traffic came to a standstill here in central London when a group of civil

protesters scaled up onto the roof of a government building to highlight the

inequality they believe they suffer at the hands of an unfair society.

Prime Minister's question time was interrupted when a condom full of orange

powder was thrown at Tony Blair during a discussion on the Gingist attacks in

South East London.

It was later discovered that members of the pressure group Gingist for Justice

had infiltrated the House of Commons dressed as ginger nut biscuits.

I'm getting burnt.

It's fighting for liberation. A few extra freckles is a small price to pay.

I'm sure we're doing the right thing, though.

Don't let yourself down now.

Remember, be a ginger, not a whinger.

Maybe Rita was right.

Maybe we do belong in Rustic Lodge.

Maybe that's all we have a right to expect.

Don't desert me now.

We made that point.

The ginger nut is here.

This fight has only just begun.

Rita!

Sandra!

I knew you wouldn't let us down.

Come on, everyone.

There's sandwiches and bottles of sunblock in the bag.

It's time to stand and be counted.

Looks like the protesters are here to stay.

It could be a long night for the police force.

This is Gargi Patel in central London reporting for News London.

A communication has been set up with the terrorists.

The code word we have agreed upon is Afghan cave.

It is imperative that any communication with them is preceded by the words

Afghan cave.

Otherwise they will not respond.

Hmm.

How do you make it do that thing?

Where it goes back.

Morning, Neville.

My nerves are in bits.

Tough morning?

I'll say. Who was it we had here this morning, Vern?

You'd know them, Neville.

Two blonde, one dark, one mouthy. Not the Chapman twins.

There's four of them.

Can't sing.

Right,

right.

Big

eaters, then.

So what were they doing around here, then?

Look at them new apartments by the flyover.

Much more reasonable.

Couldn't be bothered pointing it out to them, Neville.

I didn't take to them.

But then I always preferred brotherhood of man.

They made some lovely 45s.

What did Abba do?

Song about bloody train station.

Onions, my lover?

Yes, please.

And then they all piled back into their camper van and drive off.

Good riddance.

That's what burns.

sausage in a most unsavoury fashion and the woman in the front licking curry off

his jumpsuit.

I wouldn't do that on top of the pops.

Any sauce?

No, thanks.

Can I sell that with you on Friday?

Of course you can, Neville.

See you tomorrow.

And he's coming here to the house.

No, that's fine.

I mean actually here.

No, I'm fine.

Right.

I'm afraid I've got some bad news.

The Land Rover Voyager has gone in for repair.

But, Mummy, how shall we get to school?

Try not to panic.

But it's home economics today, and I'm presenting my scallops wrapped in

Bavarian veal.

I'm afraid the news gets worse.

But how?

We're going to have to have... a hire car.

Hire car?

You mean a car that other people have been in?

It's been delivered by a man from the garage.

Do you mean him? Yes, darling.

A mechanic.

Morning, darling.

I'm from the garage. I've got your courtesy car.

Mummy, what's he saying?

We mean you no harm.

Are you all right, love?

I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying.

Leave one of them.

Please don't kill us.

Here, love.

I'll leave them here. You take it or leave it, all right?

There's no DVD in the...

I was just having a little bit of a breather. Are you eating crypt?

Where are my manners?

Would you like a spring and onion?

No, I wouldn't. Well, that's just as well because these are prawn cocktails.

Put them away and get back to work.

Sorry, sister.

Bernie, did you write these notes?

Yes, sister.

All up to date as requested.

Have you written, her noo -noo has come up like a grapefruit?

Right, well, I can explain.

I spilled some tea on it. See, I had a mad night on South Tuesday night. Come

Wednesday morning, I was still a bit shaky on the tea round and I scalded her

noo -noo.

So, these are your medical notes.

Her noo -noo has come up like a grapefruit.

It's even bigger than that now.

You want to see it? It's like one of those really big Easter eggs.

Plus, she's a nylon nightie and I think it's aggravated her.

But why have you called it her noo -noo?

Cos that's its name.

Do you mean vagina, Bernie?

No, see, no. No, I hate that word, sister. I can't bring myself to say it.

See, my sister's called Virginia and I often get the two confused.

I had a necklace made for her when she was eight with her name on it, but it

wasn't her name, it was the other thing, and, well, you can imagine, I've got

rather ugly sister.

I don't tell you what happened with our Clint.

So instead you now say Nunu.

As I say to the blokes down the pub who don't fancy, Nunu says no -no!

Actually, I very rarely say that.

I have said it to Miss McFerry, though, cos she's the look of a leather, don't

you think?

Bernie, you're not going to get very far in this profession if you're unable to

use correct medical terminology.

Frankly, I'm amazed.

Usually you've got a mouth like a sewer.

And the morals of a slut, I know.

I guess I'm just a quivering mass of contradiction, sister, if you follow me,

mate. Bernie, what does this mean?

Light blistering to spaniel.

It's my fault again. It was the same tea round.

I have apologised.

Spaniels?

Spaniels ears.

You know, Babylonias.

She's a real hefty set on her as well. It's difficult not to spill stuff on

them. Do you mean breasts, Bernie?

Jesus!

These are medical terms, Bernie, and you are a medical professional.

I know.

I expect you to use correct terminology and to behave in a fitting manner.

After all, this is a hospital, not a playground.

I will not tolerate any more of this inappropriate slang.

I understand, sister.

Thank you for giving me a second chance and I won't let you down again.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the High Dependency Ward to check on

Mr Chang's swollen goalies.

What?

Honest to God, you should see the size of them.

One's big and bloated, the other one's small and shriveled. They look like

Lauren Hardy.

Bernie!

Frankly, that's the least of his worries.

You should see the state of his rancid little cock.

minutes till they blow it. Well, come on then.

Okay.

There are three other prisoners that the kidnappers are demanding to be

released. The first is a man called Hamid Farhan of Jordanian descent.

The second, Faisal Alam.

Now, you know when the NUM lock is on,

is it only numbers that you get?

In preparation for next week's exam, I think it's best we do a little test on

the periodic table of elements.

Lauren.

Lauren. Lauren!

All right.

Just Lauren.

All right.

What on earth do you think you're doing?

You were talking to Ryan and Lise.

They're my brethren, though, aren't they? Whilst I was speaking.

So? If you've got something to say, Lauren, why don't you tell the whole

I ain't chatting to this crew.

Well, then perhaps you'd better complete this little test on your own. See if

you like speaking to the whole class after that.

Whatever. OK, right. I'm going to point out some of these symbols on this table

and you're going to tell me what they represent.

And if you don't complete this test with 100 % correct answers, I'm going to put

you on detention.

Is it?

Yes, it is.

ZN. Stand for?

I think that's correct.

What about C -A?

Calcium.

What does B stand for?

What? What is B for?

B is for boron.

Correct.

And it knows.

M -I.

Am I bothered?

No.

Lauren.

Am I?

Am I bothered, though?

Are you?

Are you disrespecting me?

Are you, Lauren? Yes, I am. Are you a geek?

Lauren, you.

You is a geek, though.

I'm warning you.

B -A.

But are you a geek, though? Lauren.

No, I'm not. Do you dress like one, then? No, I do not.

Do you buy your clothes from a catalogue? No.

Do you pay for them in installments? No.

Your jeans got an elasticated waist?

No. Have you got a reversible fleece?

You've got a reversible fleece, sir. You are a geek. No, I'm not a geek, OK? I

am a science teacher.

Are you Stephen Hawking?

No.

So are you Stephen Hawking, sir? No. Do you wish to be Stephen Hawking?

No. When you're at home, right?

When you're at home, right? Yes. Right, when you're at home, do you pretend to

be Stephen Hawking? No!

You've got a funny little voice box? No.

Do you bowl about in a little wheelchair? Now, that is unacceptable.

Then stop doing it, then. No, that's... That is enough, OK?

You're lucky I'm one of the more reasonable teachers in this school,

you would be in a lot of trouble.

As it is, I'm going to give you a second chance.

F. F? No. Bother? No.

Come on.

Look at my face. Look at my face. I ain't even bothered. Look at my face.

Periodic table. I ain't even bothered. Look at my face, though. You're looking

at my face. Face. Look. Bothered. Boron. Bones and burner. I ain't even

bothered. I am sorry.

Albert Einstein. I ain't even bothered. Stephen Hawking. I ain't bothered.

Look.

Face. Bothered. Bones and burner. Go hiking. I ain't even bothered. I ain't

bothered.

Right.

That's it, young lady.

I cannot continue this lesson with you in here.

I have given you plenty of warning. I would like you to collect your things

leave. And don't say another word.

But I'm sorry about that, class. Now, anyone else?

M .G.

Matthew!

The invasion we're dealing with is serious and will carry out these

advise you to consider option red.

Good luck, gentlemen.

Special Agent David Primer.

Send it.

I just hope we're not too late.

Now, where would that have gone?

You mean that little bin thing?

Oh.

It seemed to have gone.

You mean it sent?

No.

I mean it's gone.

What? Oh, no, it's come back again.

Oh, it's gone all together now.

Yeah.

Did you know you can use different fonts?

you some clothes.

Sorry? What for?

You were right all along. I should have listened to you, but I didn't.

I had a dream. The dream's over.

I thought I could change the world. What was I thinking?

Too much time on my pale, freckly hands. That's my problem.

Sit down.

The dream's not over.

Things are changing.

Not from where I... I'm certain.

Up there, right now, people are quite literally painting the town red.

How do you mean? In response to the protest, gingers everywhere are coming

of their houses, hatless and proud.

I can't believe it.

Restrictions have been lifted in sandwich bars.

Sandra, we're handling food.

Jenny needs to take us seriously.

And I've just spoken to Jenny.

She's in the hairdressers.

And someone has just asked for Auburn highlights.

The fight's over.

The future's bright, Sandra.

The future's... You're free to

leave, Sandra.

We're late.

The people who made Calendar Girls are making a movie about gingers for

We're meeting her at 12.

We're on our way.

Who's playing me?

Bonnie Langford.