All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s05e13 The Beautiful Game

What'll I do when you are gone?

Oh, my God, I've landed on the old Kent
Road.

I can't possibly stay there.

Why not?

Well, it's full of poor people.

They'll be mugged and then thrown to the
Rottweilers.

Don't worry, Dore.

Rottweilers won't touch kosher food.

Anyway, this Monopoly board is
hopelessly passe. I mean, where's

Where's Bishop's Avenue?

Where's the flipping dice?

I cannot believe I'm reduced to playing
a board game for fun.

I must be getting old.

You are old.

Where are all the eligible men these
days?

Everyone I meet is either involved gay
or attached to a Zimmer frame.

Perhaps you've worn all the others out,
doll.

Go on, go, Trace.

Four.

Which means you're on Dorian's boobs.

otherwise known as the community chest.

Yes.

Thank you, Sharon. At least I don't have
to buy my bras from High and Mighty.

Go to jail.

Oh, well, that's handy.

You see, Chris, give him a kick up the
cobbler for me, will you?

Nine, which means I'm on... Park Lane,
which happens to be owned by

moi. And look, I've got a hotel on it.

Knocking shop, more like.

Well, either way, you owe me £1 ,500.

£1 ,500?

That's extortion, that is.

Oh, I've had enough of this.

Sharon, what do you call that?

A property crash.

Yes, well, I've made the most money, so
I'm the winner.

Bit like life, really, isn't it?

Hang on, hang on.

You ain't one.

does it make?

A lot.

I ain't losing.

Well, you should be used to it by now.

Have you ever had a plan of going for
the fun of it?

No.

Here, Cheryl.

I dreamt about you last night.

Did you?

No, you wouldn't let me.

Chris, you're pathetic.

Yeah, well, so would you be if you'd
been walking around like Terry the

all morning.

It's all about Jake the Peg with his
extra... Yeah, yeah, yeah, all right,

right, all right.

I'm sorry, Shell.

Well, it's just that, you know, a man
has his needs, you know, and being stuck

in here year in, year out, well, those
needs get left unattended.

I don't think I can cope much longer.

You could always go ginger.

What do you mean?

I ain't a shirtlifter.

I'm a Greek.

Look in your history books, Chris.

It was the Greeks what invented it.

Never!

Ain't no such thing as a gay Greek.

Oh, no?

So how comes that dimmest root sauce
wears a long frock and sings an I -voice

then, eh?

Honestly, Daryl, you should have seen
the two of them. All over a stupid game.

I mean, as if it matters.

As if.

We played rummy last week and I end up
cheating to make sure I lost.

Anything for a quiet life, eh?

Well, I don't know about that, Chase.

What do you mean?

I know you ain't exactly got a killer
instinct, but you don't want to be a mug

with your life, do you?

I'm not a mug.

No, that's not what I meant, but you are
a bit of a soft touch.

Maybe I'm a bit too easygoing, but I
can't help the way I am, Daryl.

No, no, of course you can't.

Forget I said anything, eh?

Yeah, you shall.

I've got a letter this week.

Oh, that's nice, Chris.

You'll be able to practise your reading
now, won't you?

It's from my cousin Helena.

You remember Eleanor.

Big bird with a moustache.

No, no.

You're thinking of her sister.

Eleanor's the younger one.

Short bird with a beard.

Yeah, that's her.

Yeah, she come to Mum's funeral.

Yeah, yeah, I remember.

How is she? Still having her chin
permed?

She's all right, is Eleanor.

Hey, her son Nicky's only started
playing football, isn't he? Look, she

a picture of him in his gear.

Yeah.

Never guessed he was a relative of
yours.

What do you mean?

Well, usually by his age, most of the
men in your family have started shaving

their backs.

Look, Eleanor says he's a smashing
little player.

You couldn't, you know, give her a ring
for us and thank her for the picture?

Well, can't you do it yourself?

You've got phone cards now, haven't you?

Oh, those phone cards are like gold,
that thing here.

Well, I'll swap mine for a bit of extra
snail.

Oh, all right, then. Yeah, I'll speak to
her. Oh, great.

Hey. Perhaps you could go and see him
play. You know, cheer him on, like.

Say hello from his uncle, Chris.

I'd love to, Chris.

But it's my allergy, you see.

Yeah? What are you allergic to?

Anyone related to you.

I don't know what you've got against my
family.

You're one of them, for starters.
Listen, my family are lovely people and

generous. Oh, yeah, yeah.

You told me that the wedding guests pin
£10 notes on the bride's dress.

Greek tradition, you said.

Well, it is.

Usually.

I suppose I missed out because I was
English.

No, Shay, you missed out because you
were the size 18.

Look, Eleanor's dad's just retired,
right? You know, he's sold his business.

can half -make a packet.

Hey, if you act nice to the kid, the old
man might bung us a few quid.

Do you think that I'd be heartless
enough to trifle with a kid's affections

the hope of getting a handout?

Well, I wouldn't put it like that.

There's only one thing I've got to say
to you, Chris, the adopter. Yeah, what's

that?

Woke on, woke on, and I'm in your arms.

Yeah, all right then. Bye.

Was that on the phone?

No, of course.

I meant on the other end.

Helena, one of Chris's cousins.

Oh, yeah? I've met her, haven't I? At
your mother -in -law's funeral.

Yeah, that's right. She's the one that
caught the whiskers under the coffin

Have you hated Chris's family?

I do, but I've got a soft spot for their
bank accounts.

Anyway, she's been bending me ear about
her boy playing football.

I said I'd go and watch him on Sunday.

Oh, you still love going over West Ham
with Daryl. I might come with you. What

do you say?

I say I'm over the moon, sick as a
parrot, and the game ain't over till the

final whistle's blown.

Right, that's it settled.

Sunday it is.

And staying with football...

Who do we know that's got the charm of
Paul Gascoigne, the personality of

Taylor and legs like Chrissie Waddle?

It's me.

Correct answer.

Good afternoon, neighbours.

It was up until now.

Now, now, Sharon, fat people are
supposed to be jolly. It's a tradition.

I'll jolly you in a minute.

Pack it in, you two. I have some
excellent news.

Great.

you're moving the same day they ask you
to do a slim fast commercial now pay

attention madam yenta the world famous
psychic and clairvoyant is coming to

chigwell next week she'll be appearing
at the assembly rooms you ain't into all

that old nonsense are you done not
nonsense sharon i've always been

the supernatural ever since the red
started swiveling round

Madame Yenta is a renowned figure in
occult circles.

She can tell you anything you want to
know. Past, present and future.

What's the point of learning about your
past?

She can find out where she left her
knickers the night before.

It's the future I'm interested in.

I want to know who I am, where I'm
going.

And who she'll be doing it with.

Exactly. Do you know how long it is
since I have enjoyed the company of a

I don't know. What day was it that bloke
from the gas board came round, Cheryl?

Madam Yentor sees all.

She could tell me what my love life
holds in store, and who knows, the stud

my dreams could be just round the
corner. And if he is, I want to be

ready for action.

Meanwhile, in Malaya, a community of
rather growing peasants are standing by

red alert.

I'm going to the assembly rooms. I'll
get us a ticket.

All right, but if I see anything scary,
I'm coming straight home.

Don't worry, Trace. D 'oh, don't forget
to put your make -up on.

Three nil, we ain't even half time yet.

Even West Ham are better than this lot.

Look at their little faces.

They're really enjoying themselves.

Come on, boys. What's the matter? with
you.

Keep using the wing.

And then hit those high crosses into
their area. Bang, bang, bang. Just like

that. And Tommy, you move up into the
middle.

What are you on about?

High balls?

Have you seen the size of their
defenders?

Excuse me, madam, but this is football.

Man's sport.

Oi, El Patel. I do know I've forgotten
more about football than you'll ever

know.

Trace, it's only a game. It ain't a
game. It's a massacre.

And look, you want to... Kick the ball
on the floor and keep passing it through

the middle. And Tommy, you want to be
playing centre -back, not centre

Oh, does he? Yeah, he does.

Oh, well, then, Mrs Jimmy Bloody Hill,
since you know so much about football,

why don't you take over?

What? Because I've had enough.

I've resigned.

I prefer cricket anyway.

Nice one, Trace.

Now what are we going to do?

All right, you lot, gather round.

What a pullback. You wait till I tell my
Daryl. He'll be really proud of me.

Calm down, Trace. It's only a game of
Sunday morning football.

Don't expect Alan Sugar on the phone
just yet.

Blimey, that was quick.

I'll get it.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Eleanor.

Yeah, that's right, Eleanor.

Yeah, I did, Eleanor.

Yeah.

Yeah.

All right then, Eleanor.

Yeah, thanks, Eleanor.

Bye, Eleanor. Bye.

That was Eleanor.

I bet she gave you a right ear -bashing
about losing the boys their manager.

No. Actually, she asked if I'd like to
take over the team.

Apparently the boys all told their
parents how good I was.

You're kidding.

What are you going to do?

Sharon, rinse out my shell suit.

Sherry Lungy, eat your heart out.

You are looking at the new manageress.

I hope you know what you're doing,
Trace. I mean, looking after a bunch of

sounds like a right hassle to me.

Yeah, but I'll have the backup of my
newly appointed assistant manager,

and team coach to rely on.

Oh, yeah? Who are they, then? You.

Congratulations.

Karen,

has anyone ever mentioned that in a
certain light you bear a striking

resemblance to Mandy Smith?

clothes off, you're a dead ringer for
Bill Wyman.

I've got to manage the kids' football
team.

Yes, well, never mind. It'll get you out
the house.

Sharon's going to help me, isn't she?

I'm the new team coach.

Oh, well, at least they'll have plenty
of room when they travel.

Do you like football, Dawn?

I bet you like the players, though.

Those muscly bums in those silky little
shorts.

Strange as it may seem, Sharon, not all
women are driven into a passionate

frenzy by the prospect of a half
-dressed half -wit with a Michael Bolton

haircut. Oh, I love football.

I reckon I'll make a brilliant manager.
You wait and see. Yes, well, you won't

have to.

You can ask Madame Yenter on Thursday. I
picked up the ticket.

I can't on Thursday. I promised the kids
I'd start training them. You can't let

them down. They're counting on us. Oh,
God, it was so much easier when we used

to send the little tykes up chimneys.

All right, I'll pick you up after
training.

And no, don't thank me.

Just try not to wear anything that looks
as if it comes from a catalogue.

Come on, you lot. I want to see your
sweat.

No room for shirkers in my... What?

I've got another seven -lap shit.

Leave it out, Trace. I'm already green
-crackered.

I thought I was supposed to be the
trainer.

You were.

So what happened to the crap?

Oh, take it easy, Joyce. They're only
kids.

Yes, kids that are bottom of the league,
Sharon.

So what?

There's no reason to be so hard on them.
Yes, there is. I am training them to be

winners. Trust me, Sharon, I know what
I'm talking about.

But train... No, but... Now, come on.

Trainers are supposed to lead by
example.

I didn't think I was a trainer no more.
Come on, move it.

Can you hear me?

What's she on about, Prince Harry?

I think he's inside her.

No wonder she's got a smile on her face.

I've got a message coming through from
Charlie.

Does anyone here know a Charlie?

Me, me, me.

Me too.

Live next door to one.

He left me for her. Don't make me laugh.

Is Charlie your late husband?

No, he's my budgie. He died last year.

Ah, yes.

I can see him now.

What's his message?

Ask him, Madame Yenza. What's he say?

Speak to me, Charlie. Speak to me,
Charlie.

He's coming through. He's coming
through.

I can hear him.

a pretty boy then.

What a pretty boy then.

And remember, if they go anywhere near
you in the area, you fall over, hold

leg and scream in agony.

Now, have you all got that?

Yes, boss.

Not quite, Chase.

Where do you want me to go from this
time?

The bit where they walk out onto the
pitch.

Forget it, Sharon.

Now, boys, we've won our last three
matches on the trot. Your record speaks

itself.

Three sent off, two booked, and one
nicked for carrying an offensive weapon.

Foreign Legion would bottle it from this
lot.

We won, Sharon. That's what matters.

Now, next week's game is the last of the
season, and if we want to avoid the

drop, we've got to get a good result. So
I want you all going in hard. How are

we going to go in? Hard!

And what are we going to do? Win!

What are we going to do? Win!

What are we going to do? Win!

Good boys.

I'll see you at the grand usual time.
I'll announce the team then.

Meanwhile, there's Lucas, Hayden,
Chocolate, and Claire's in the kitchen.

Yay!

It shouldn't really be in cake, Sharon.
They are in training, you know.

The physio said it was all right.

Who's the physio?

Mr Kipling.

Sharon, those boys need to be in peak
physical condition.

They're 11 years old, Trace. So?

I take my job serious, you know.

You're telling me.

Chris and Daryl have got it easier
inside than them boys have got it with

And what's that supposed to mean?

You're too tough on them, Trace.

And this winner all costs business.

fun. Yeah? Well, it won't be funny if
they get relegated, will it? Maybe not.

That's not the point.

Do you know what little Nicky's nickname
is in the squad?

The Terminator.

It's the Terminator.

You knew already?

Of course. It was me that thought it up.

Well, Helena didn't send her boy to play
football so that he could learn to

commit grievous bodily harm.

So he's enough of that at home.

You're just jealous, Sharon.

What?

You heard.

Jealous. Because I'm a winner for once.

You wait till I tell my Daryl on
Saturday how well I'm doing.

You're doing?

You're a winner?

What about the kids, though, Trace?

It's the same old story, isn't it?

One word from your Daryl and you jump
like a whippet in the mating season.

I've done a lot for those boys. But
you're telling me.

You've turned young Nicky into a clone
of Vinnie Jones.

I'm not even sure I want him playing in
a team like that. Yeah? Well, that's

lucky then, isn't it?

Oh, yeah? Why's that?

Because he ain't playing on Sunday. I'm
dropping him.

You're what?

I'm not happy with his commitment level.

He can't do that, Tracey. It'd break his
little heart. It's for the good of the

team, Sharon.

It's nothing personal.

Oh, no?

Well, neither is this.

I resign, so up your bum.

Tracey, what on earth are you teaching
those little boys? One of them just

pinched my bottom.

Don't you start, Dawn. I've had enough
from Sharon, thanks very much.

I still haven't forgiven her for getting
us ejected from the assembly rooms. I

have never been so humiliated.

And I was banking on Madame Yenta to
shed some light on the dark recesses of

innermost emotions.

I thought you just wanted to find out
who you'd be bonking next.

By the way, the ugly sister has put the
kibosh on it.

Now I will never know what the future
holds in store.

Why don't you just go and see her again?

I can't. The rest of the tour has been
cancelled.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I
suppose.

Why don't you fix up a personal session
with her?

Oh, I hadn't thought of that, had you?

What a good idea. I could go private.

I wonder if it would be covered by
Marcus's booper.

What would Claire Boyance come under?
Oh, Tracy, how can I thank you for that

suggestion? If there's ever anything I
can do in return.

Well, actually, there is, Dore.

No, no, Tracey, it was a turn of phrase,
not intended to be taken literally.

Too late.

You've offered and I've accepted.

Have you ever eaten in a harvester
before?

No, I haven't, actually.

Why not?

Because I haven't got a pot to piss in.

Yes.

This is the sexy, slutty, secret
Spankline.

What would you like to talk about, big
boy?

Well, why don't you tell me your name?

Mmm, that's a nice name.

Would you like to know what mine is?

Yes, I bet you would.

Well, it's Sharon, you rotten little
pervert.

I'm not moonlighting for a dirty phone
line.

You've dialled my number by mistake.

No wonder you've never got no phone
cards left.

You're using them all up on them pervy
phone calls, ain't you?

I ought to kill you for this.

Well, seeing you are on the line, you
can pass on a message to Daryl for me.

No, Chris.

No, no, I won't keep it short.

I don't care if it is your last bloody
phone card.

straight in the back of the net. That's
three wins on the trot.

Great. Next season, I reckon we're
willing with a chance of a double.

will stand in our way. You wait and see.

Oh, terrific, Trace.

You don't sound very pleased for me,
Daryl.

I am. It's just that, you know, you
sound a bit different.

I am different. I've developed my killer
instinct.

You're telling me. You've got more of
the stuff than Annabelle Lecter.

Better than being a mug all your life,
innit? Tracey, calm down. You've never

been a mug.

I just didn't want Sharon and that Dory
and taking advantage.

That's all I meant.

Yeah, well, they don't anymore.

Anyway, there's nothing wrong with being
a winner, Daryl.

Oh, no, of course there ain't. But it
ain't everything, Tracy.

I can't believe I'm hearing this.

You've always been the most competitive
person I know.

You always had to be the best at
everything.

Yeah, well, maybe I've got things a bit
wrong, you know.

What do you mean?

Well, look, when I was a kid, my old man
was a total loser.

In fact, if he had a competition for all
the losers in the world, he would have

come in second.

Why second?

Because he was such a loser.

I detested him, so I always pushed
myself to make sure I'd turn out

Best fighter on the block, fastest
runner in my class, you know, that sort

thing. So what's wrong with that?

I took it too far, Trace.

And look where it got me.

So what are you saying?

Being the best ain't everything.

Being happy is.

Just think how miserable Chris's
nephew's going to be when he finds out

playing tomorrow.

Do you want to be responsible for that?

No, of course not.

Hold up.

How do you know about Nicky being
dropped?

That big mouth sister of mine's been
opening that channel tunnel gob of hers

again, hasn't she?

Hasn't she, Daryl?

Wait, Nicky, then?

So you decided to turn up, then?

Just taking a keen interest in my
nephew.

Know what I mean?

I see the team seems to have changed
tactics.

Playing like real little gentlemen now.

Yeah, well, it's only a game, innit?

Know what I mean?

Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean.

Well, you're still 3 -2 up.

This is no time to get complacent,
Sharon.

Football is a game of two halves.

You never know what's going to turn up.

an hour ago.

I'm very sorry, Tracey. I came as
quickly as I could.

No, honestly, I'm sick as a pigeon.

Guess what?

I've been to see Madame Yenta.

Not now, Dawn. Wait till after the
match, aye?

And she told me... One more and we'll
have a mullet!

One more and we'll jolly well get the
better of them, eh, lads?

Excuse me, I'm not ever interested in
what I have to say.

Nope.

Well, thanks very much.

Call yourself friends?

No.

All right, doll.

Don't get your chest wig in a tangle.

What did Madame Yenza tell you?

She told me I was going to meet someone
new.

Oh, well done, Missy!

Goodbye! Well done! Yes! She said I was
going to be swept off my feet by a

stranger dressed in black.

I can hardly contain myself.

Ref, are you blind? You are joking.

So come away, the rest decision's final.

Like heck it is.

Sharon, come back here.

Come back here.

Oh, Dorian, do something.

Me?

Right, I'll administer my magic sponge.

It's actually an exfoliating pad.

But they'll never know the difference.

Your turn, Tracy.

I can't believe they've sacked me.

With all the effort I've put in.

Cheer up, my little Brian Cluffett.

I'd be more like... Lurian.

Learned to take the rough with a smooth.

It's all your fault, Sharon.

If it weren't for your one -woman pitch
invasion.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Tracy.

I haven't heard so much whining since
Marcus stumbled across my Harvey Nichols

charge card account.

It ain't fair.

Tell me about it. I thought £400 for a
Janet Rager teddy was an absolute snit.

I'll miss the kids, though. They were a
nice little bunch, weren't they? We can

go and watch them play next season.

Count me in.

Especially if Trevor's the linesman.

Stranger in black. Exactly.

Who would have thought that romance
could blossom in the casualty unit of

Whipscross Hospital?

Dame Fortune is a strange and uncanny
mistress.

Belt up, you daft nutter.

I'm just pleased to have my easy -going
sister back.

Love, peace and harmony is once again
restored to Dallentrace.

Oh. Stop all the schmaltz, Sharon,
before I puke all over Regent Street.

Take it easy.

Right, three, which means I'm on.

Mayfair. Oh, which is one of mine.

Hang about, hang about.

You didn't eat that.

No, I didn't.

My honesty is beyond reproach. Yeah?

So how come you're married to an
accountant?

Don't bring Marcus into this.

You're the one married to a common
criminal.

Don't you call my husband common?

Cheating Arab.

Morab.

You.

You.

Oh, that's it. Throw the bombs out.

It's not worth playing anymore. Anyway,
I'm winning.

Are you winning? Are you winning? Excuse
me.

Try not to get any claret on my shake
parway.

Me there is mine. Me there was sitting
on the coffee table there.

Oh, so it's in front of you. You own it.

Oh, yes.

King's Cross is more your line, do I?

King's Cross.