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I'm applying for bar manager. I'm applying for bar manager.
Can I have a...ooooh form?
I'm ten grand in debt.
My life is finished.
Janet, if you're happy to take the job,
I guess we've found our candidate.
with bubbles in it
handle anything stronger now
I'm going to be the best bar manager ever.
I'll have the sassiness of Bet Gilroy, the sexiness of Angie Watt
and the dwarfism of Peggy Mitchell.
But...my life is ruined. How?
You go out to work and I have no-one to talk to all day. It's lonely.
Sometimes a fat man with a glass eye comes round to lick the front window.
Other than that, I have no company.
Well, you could get a job. Whore from hell. All right.
You could hang round with Gaz.
Me and Gaz aren't the best of mates at the moment.
He's taken some sort of offence to me standing outside his bedroom window every night
shouting, "Suck my fully functioning balls."
Well, you've hurt his feelings, haven't you?
You'll have to try and make it up.
Maybe I could get Gaz something.
A present.
Something that says,
"Sorry, you're a big Jaffa Cake and I'm a huge creamy Bourbon."
"Sorry, I have a horn of plenty."
"Sorry, I'm a mighty sperm whale."
"Sorry that my cock runneth over..." All right, that's enough.
If he can't have kids, get him something he can take care of, like a plant.
Or a puppy. I could get him a puppy.
Or you could spend more time with Corinthian. Yes, a puppy is just the ticket.
I'll be at the canal.
There's bound to be a sack of them lying around.
That's it, that's it!
I'm forgetting about having kids. I'm never having 'em.
Anything that stops you picking the lumpy bits out of your jizz in the hope that it's super-strength...
is OK by me.
I'm meeting Jonny at lunchtime. He'll gloat.
Those two are so infuriating.
Hence...
Die, Janet!
Are you still not speaking to her?
She's asked me to the pub...probably to gloat cos she got the job. They're such gloaters.
They're probably gonna smile kindly at us and offer us friendship.
Bastards!
Maybe she wants to make friends.
I'll make friends all right.
I'll friend her good!
Hey, that's nice.
I'm not normally a vindictive person, but anybody could see I deserved the job more.
Well, she ruined my career, so I'm gonna ruin hers
when we stick...
Damn you, Janet Keogh Voodoo Doll!
Damn you to hell!
Just like Peggy Mitchell.
Where's my Grant?
What the bloody 'ell is goin' on in my family?!
I can't really do the voice.
Remember, Arthur, only four more goes on me and you can claim your free peanuts.
There are going to be some changes around here, young lady.
The first being you must cease boning the elderly in the cellar.
But...but... There'll be no buts, young lady.
I'm the manager and I want this place run properly.
All right, fine.
Come on, you pair.
They fought for our freedom. Well, that stops immediately.
How else can I improve this place?
You could sort out that piss-soaked disease hole,
or as the brewery call it - the kitchen.
We could start serving food.
People would travel from far and wide to eat here.
From Runcorn Bridge to... Runcorn's other bridge.
I could be just like Jamie Oliver.
It'll be pukka.
I can't really do that voice either.
Woof-woof! Hello, Gaz.
You all right? Come to gloat, have you?
I wish someone would look after me. Woof!
If only a big, strong man would be my daddy. You what?
Oh, look, you've got a little dog!
Why do you think I was speaking in that voice?
What voice?
Oh, look.
Hello. What's his name?
You name him. Although, to me, he looks like a Colin.
It's for you. Sorry you're a big Jaffa.
You what? Who do you think you are, coming here judging my sperm, eh?
With some adorable, cute, little dog looking at me with his cute, little puppy-dog eyes. Hello!
"Hello, Gaz, how are you feeling today?"
Well, thanks for asking. I'm feeling bark.
"Ruff".
What?
Ruff, Gaz.
The joke is "ruff".
Cos "rough" is like a dog noise.
Ruff!
Oh, yeah, I get it now, yeah.
That's not funny. Please look after me, Gaz.
I don't want a dog. I'm not looking after you either, so stop asking.
Well, if you're sure.
Have you got a sack and some bricks?
Oi, don't you dare! Come here, you.
Aw! We're not gonna let him or any other bigger dogs pick on you. No.
Yes, I'm gonna take you to see Man City, teach you how to ride a bike.
Dogs can't ride bikes.
Oi, don't stifle his dreams!
Aw, look at you. He does look like a Colin.
All right, Colin?
Treat this place like your own. One day, it'll all be yours.
Thanks for this, pal. This puppy's gonna be the best-looked-after child since Blanket Jackson.
I'm gonna care for him, cherish him and...
YELPING
Kill him?
Colin!
Oh, God!
I mean, cor blimey!
Oh, all these recipes are for fancy stuff, like "omelette".
People round here don't want fancy cooking, look at 'em.
They're old. They like dead simple food.
Cos they're simple people who are nearly dead.
Yeah, other than us lot, the pub has got an elderly bunch of locals.
Yeah, dirty little bastards, the lot of 'em.
I'm up for a touch of the wrinkles. Cellar, anybody?
No! Look, a proper business person would capitalise on this.
I'm going to make this place old-person-friendly.
I'm going to please the grey pound.
I'm desperate for a pound of grey. Come on, Arthur.
Ooh! Look at you!
Bar manager. I know.
Now look at me - ooh!
I know the outfit's a bit unorthodox, but it's essential for my new career.
I am ten grand in debt. I've got to start working for a living.
That's very responsible. What is this new career?
I'm going to whore out my booty.
Prostitution? You can't do that! It's dangerous.
Dangerously sexy.
It's illegal. Illegally sexy.
You could catch a disease.
Diseasily sexy.
And it looks like loads of fun - Band Of Gold, Pat Butcher, Jack the Ripper.
Great comedies. So you're actually going to have sex for money?
No, I'm not going to be a sex prostitute.
What other kind is there?
My plan is, I take the money off them and then ask them about their wives.
Then they'll burst out crying and won't be able to get an erection.
It's foolproof.
How's your wives?
They're so funny when they cry.
Don't upset my customers, they're old. They fought for our freedom.
That's it. I could turn the pub into a theme pub.
A war theme pub.
Who wouldn't want to relive the threat of Nazi occupation?
Peace, man.
Come on, boys, time for an old-fashioned trenches sing-a-long. Ready?
Two, three, four...
Yeah, what is it good for?
Sing it again.
Oh, you've come. I'm so pleased you're here.
Look how well it's going. The old people love it.
What the hell happened here?
Have I just walked into Goodnight Sweetheart?
I've cashed in on the grey pound. I'm a complete success... thanks to you.
Oh, watch this.
SIREN WAILS Air raid! Everyone under the table!
I do that once in a while. It keeps them awake so they buy more beer.
How is this thanks to me?
If you hadn't been a lousy candidate for the job, I'd never have made my dream come true. Happy for me?
Ecstatic.
You haven't seen the best bit. Kelly!
Hey, everyone, it's Hitler. Kick her ass!
Ah! Ah!
I'm so scared of zees speedy old men.
I hope zey don't catch me.
Come on, boys, chase her to her bunker.
So, Donna, what can I get you?
You're insane.
What? All this crap.
It's idiotic. I would never have done this. It works.
It's stupid, it's offensive and it isn't right for the pub.
I think I know what's right for MY pub.
You're just jealous because I got the job.
I'm not jealous. You are.
Donna with no husband, no kids and no job.
Well, I've just had, um... an interview, actually,
for a job that's way better than being bar manager of Nazi Germany.
Oh, yeah. What as?
Er, health and safety official.
Really?
I don't think the council will appreciate you cleaning that glass with your own sputum.
Well, I tried Kelly's, but it was black.
And if I get the job, I'm afraid, Janet Keogh, I may have to do
a full inspection of your pub and might have to close you down.
You'd have the authority to do that?
Yes, yes, I would. Oh.
Well, this place is perfectly clean. You'll see.
Sieg heil!
That was German for "Have it!"
Where is everyone?
Prostitute! Prostitute available!
How much?
You're not very attractive, so that'll put the price up.
Ugh! Beaded seat covers? I don't think so, loser. Drive on.
How did you get on cleaning Colin off your dumbbells?
He was quite stainy.
It just proves what I suspected. I can't be a father.
I've tried and tried, but I'm no good at it.
But it's your dream.
You think I don't know that? I sneak into Mothercare to sniff Babygros.
You think I don't spend hours a day staring at pictures of children?
Pardon?
I'm desperate, Jonny. It just feels like...
if I can't have a child, life's pointless.
You could train to be a clown. They hang around with kids.
Like that McDonald's fellow - Trevor MacDonald.
If only there was a way of getting hold of a kid that was born already.
You know, like one that didn't have any parents and you fostered them.
If only there was some form of adoption system in this crazy world.
Hold on a minute.
Of course!
I think I missed a bit of Colin on my dumbbell.
I think it's his ear.
No, Gaz...there IS an adoption system.
How do you think Woody Allen met his wife?
Thanks for fitting me in at such short notice. That's fine, Mr Wilkinson.
Always keen to encourage potential adopters.
Right, I'll have a little boy, please.
It's not quite that straightforward.
You've not run out of stock?
No, Mr Wilkinson, we don't keep the children here.
What's in that warehouse behind your building?
That's B&Q.
I can see that. I just thought it stood for "boys and...
.."quirls."
This is just a preliminary meeting to ascertain your suitability.
Oh, got you. Yeah. Um...I'm dead suitable. OK.
What kind of environment would you be able to offer a child?
I've got a great little flat.
It's only one room, so I won't worry about losing the kid.
Unless he climbed into the oven and shut the door behind him.
God, that'd be terrible! Imagine if I cooked my baby!
Bit of parsley, bit of garlic.
Oh, I'll have a leg, please.
I'm gonna tell Jonny that one later. Right.
D'you mind me asking why you want to adopt, exactly?
I thought I had a son. He turned out to be Jonny's, so I want my own now.
Do you have experience with children?
Well, I had a sort of son -
Colin - but I killed him.
You killed your son?
Yeah.
With a dumbbell. Phhwrrrt!
It was Jonny's fault.
I see. And is this Jonny in the room now?
I don't think so.
Look, Mr Wilkinson. I'm afraid I can't recommend you to adopt.
What?!
But I bought in Colin's ear for him to play with and everything.
Woof woof!
Help!
Yes, Janet,
health and safety.
I'm so sorry, but this pub is an abomination!
Yeah.
Clean every inch of it with a toothbrush on your hands and knees!
Oh, Donna, why do I have to be so rubbish when you're so brilliant?
Because you're a smug cow, and I'm going to ruin your life.
Have I actually gone insane?
No, Donna, you're doing the right thing.
Oh, well, thank God you were here - I thought I was going crackers.
SHE HUMS
Listen very carefully, I will say this only once!
We have a perfectly clean pub.
God, that was terrifying!
Why? What's happened?
I've never seen such a huge parade of inbreds since I visited Nuneaton.
And one big biffer threatened me,
saying if I didn't get off her patch, she'd "do me".
Must have been some sort of lezza.
Could you imagine ME having lesbian sex?!
Yes.
Don't touch what you can't afford. I'll buy you a drink.
Ew! You punters are all the same.
Well, I'm far classier than that -
I need to be a high-class call girl instead.
I should be like Pretty Woman and find myself a rich, rich Richard Gere.
Right.
This ho ain't turning tricks for no scrubs no mo', mofo!
Ciao!
So, Janet...
how's the pub? Is it dusty?
No.
Oh.
So you got the job, then?
Yes, I did. And now you'll have to do everything I say
or I will close this place down.
But I've written you a list to help you.
"Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison
Hello!
You look rich,
so I thought you might want to fall in love with me.
I'm a hooker,
but with a heart of gold, you see.
So, let's go clothes shopping,
and you can sit there laughing while I try on all the outfits.
Excuse me, madam, can I ask what you're doing? I'm being a prostitute.
Come on - out.
This is ridiculous! As if this place isn't chock-full of slappers!
Fine! I'll go somewhere where my whoring is appreciated.
Right, I've sorted out those rats and cockroaches.
They're all lovely and clean.
Now, should I go and polish that unexploded World War II bomb?
No, the bomb's clean enough.
Are you personally clean?
Personally?
You know...down there?
Sweetheart, they haven't invented a bleach strong enough.
Well, use your brain, woman -
boil-wash it and wrap it in clingfilm. Off you pop.
Janet, what's the point in cleaning?
As Oscar Wilde once remarked...
"Oooooooh!"
Donna's going to close this place down if she finds anything unhygienic.
She's what?!
How's she going to close the Archer?
Her health and safety job. She's inspecting us!
She hasn't got a job!
That's why she's spending all her time plotting revenge against you.
Pardon? Have I said too much?
Sneaky bitch!
How could she try and ruin my livelihood?!
Not only that, but she's got a Janet voodoo doll.
Have I said too much?
Evil cow! How dare she?!
And when she orgasms, she makes a noise like this, "Aya, aya, aya!"
Now I've definitely said too much.
She's asked for it.
Any luck getting a nipper yet?
No. The adoption woman said I was completely unsuitable.
And then the police backed her up.
Well, I, for one, am glad. You what?
Well, I had an even better idea.
It's obvious I'm not the person you should be talking to -
I'm a dick.
But I hit upon a scheme so cunning, so clever,
it would put all our previous genius exploits to shame. Oh, yeah?
Well, you know how you're a bit of a...
down there?
Yeah, that was the exact wording on the letter from the hospital. It's obvious!
Use my baby-making creamy goodness instead!
Pardon?
It's dead easy!
I'll shag Donna!
She'd love a ride on the old Jonny wagon, eh?
"Ooh, ooh, ooh!"
No?
Yes, Donna.
I've completed your list.
I'd just love you to come over here and make sure the place adheres to your specifications. ..OK!
EVIL LAUGH
Mwah-ha-ha-ha...!
Yeah, your business is going down, Janet Keogh!
Donna!
I need your advice.
You're a prostitutologist, aren't you, what with your mum being a whore?
My mum wasn't a prostitute -
she just had sex with men
for money.
How did she do it? I've been hooking all over this wretched town
and I've been thrown out of every bar, hotel, synagogue.
I've got bigger things to think about.
Why would they throw ME onto the streets? I mean,
I'm completely scab-free.
Well, maybe, just maybe, Louise,
having someone whoring out their body on your premises is bad for business.
Sorry, could you just come with me?
Janet, someone's written graffiti in the women's loo saying, "Janet is crap."
Was it you?
Yes.
Janet! It's time for your inspection.
Now, Louise, go and drum up a bit of filthy business with Arthur.
Of course! This is too easy.
Janet! There appears to be an unlicensed brothel operating on your premises. Oh, I don't care.
I beg your pardon.
Donna, tell me, am I contravening regulation 149765642945454786B if I do this?
I'm confused. I know the truth.
You're not really doing a health and safety inspection -
you're just trying to punish me.
I mean, God knows why.
Because...
this job was meant to be mine, that's why!
How can you say that, Donna?
I got this job using my own skills.
I thought you'd be proud of me.
I'm not like you. I've no qualifications.
I can't just get any job I want.
And now you...you...
You're a bitch, Donna Henshaw -
a vicious bitch!
It's only because I'm jealous.
Jealous?
Of me?
I didn't realise. Tell me more.
I'm the one that's meant to be sorted.
I mean, your life's supposed to be shit.
My life's meant to be how you measure your rubbish existence.
I mean, you're the one who married some backwards idiot man that no-one else would have
and ended up having a freaky-looking baby.
I mean, Corinthian looks like you drank heavily during pregnancy.
What's with the whole...thing? You know what I mean. What?
Can you forgive me?
Why don't you just stay away from me and my FAHHHMILEEE?!
Look what you've gone and done. Oh...!
Who do you think you are kidding?
Say it again! Say it again, go on! Argh! Slag in purple!
I'm a bitch!
Oh, hi there.
Sorry do I know you?
Don't tell me they've sent two of us to inspect the same place.
Uh-oh.
Bloody head office, eh?
Yeah...bloody head office. The amount of times I've turned up to a brothel
only to be told that someone's been there before me.
We don't inspect brothels.
More's the pity.
Anyway. I'll tell you what...Steve.
I'll go indoors and you can check the outside for...
moss and mildew. I think I saw a tramp lurking earlier.
Janet!
Janet, Janet, health and safety!
Do you think I'm stupid or something? What?
You can't pull the same trick twice!
That's more stupid than Jonny giving money to that pretend charity.
Amnesty International indeed.
But... I don't even want to look at you, Donna Henshaw.
Don't worry about this place. All spick and span.
They even adhere to regulation 700J.
Not to feed guinea fowl from a plastic trough when farming?
Th-That is correct.
But this is a pub.
Oh, it is, yeah. A nice clean pub.
Hello, sailor. Fancy a little fun? By fun, I mean sex for money.
Not the face! Not my characterful face! You are dead! I'm going to kill you!
You want to know what I think of health and shitting safety, Donna?
Here's some cheese to attract rats.
Here's some lager to attract slugs.
And I've already fed the guinea fowl from a plastic trough. Ha!
Excuse me, are you the manager here?
Yeah, why, who the hell are you, bollock face?
Steve Shaw, health and safety.
Oh, how lovely to meet you. I'm Mrs Keogh.
Welcome to my... healthy and safe pub.
Janet, where shall I put this bomb?
So, Mrs Keogh, can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't shut this place down?
EASTENDERS DRUMS
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