Original subtitles

Ripped By mstoll

Your turn, Mungo.

All right, er, I'll do an impression of someone we all know very well

and you have to guess who it is.

- All right? - Dear oh dear.

Stumpy One-eye the Woodcutter.

Correct.

That was clever, Badvoc.

He hadn't even done the voice yet.

Right, I'll do one now.

Let me get this right, get the voice right. Ready?

Good day. I am Aulus Paulinus, governor of...

Hang on.

Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue.

I know. It's Aulus Paulinus.

You're good at this game, aren't you?

For crying out loud, do we have to play these

stupid games? I'm bored out of my head.

Why don't we just take off all our clothes and run around the heath naked

screaming obscenities at the top of our voices?

We do that every day, Blag.

That's the sort of thing that's boring me senseless.

Listen, I was thinking of going round town throwing lumps of rock at old people.

You're welcome to join me.

Mungo, you need help.

Yeah, Blag's going to carry the rocks for me.

- Oh, I've thought of a game. - Look, I'm a British tribe leader.

- You'll like this one. - I shouldn't have to play games.

It's my favourite.

Listen, Blag, my life should be a huge and endless orgy

of the most luxurious food and the finest wines

and I should be in the middle of it, anointing my naked body with perfumed oils

as I prepare to do erotic battle with...

- Yeah? - With a pair of horny, firm-limbed,

lust-crazed, sex-hungry nymphets.

I spy with my little eye...

Shut up, Blag.

I bet Aulus Paulinus isn't bored out of his head.

I bet him and Grasientus aren't up at the villa playing stupid games.

99, 100!

Coming, ready or not!

Don't bother coming, Grasientus. I'm fed up with this game already.

I'm bored out of my head.

My life should be a huge and endless orgy

of luxurious food and the finest wines

and I should be in the middle of it, anointing my body with perfumed oils

as I prepare to do erotic battle with...

Yes?

A pair of horny, firm-limbed,

lust-crazed, sex-hungry nymphets.

- I know. - Yes?

Musical chairs?

I bet you the bloody emperor isn't bored out of his head playing stupid games.

- Whoo! Come on, darling. - That's more like it.

Get them off. Get them off.

- Come on, show us your arse. - Badvoc, this is a very nice gesture

- but it's really doing nothing for me. - All right, that's enough. Break it up.

Hang on, I've only got one more veil to go.

Well, I've had better Saturday nights out.

Well, look on the bright side.

At least here in Britain, we're a long way from the emperor.

Cheers, Aulus. After you with the rib of beef, Blag.

Can we play hide and seek now, Badvoc?

Well, do I get a bite, then?

Oh, sorry. Blag, give Aulus a bite.

Ow!

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

What? Blag's got rabies?

Worse. I've just heard the emperor's on his way to Britain.

He's what?

Are we going to play hide and seek or what?

- In a minute, Blag. - Shut up.

Gods, what have I done to offend you?

I'm not a bad man. I've never done anything wrong.

I've never killed my father or slept with my mother.

Eh, don't knock it till you've tried it.

Calm down, Aulus, so the boss is coming over. Big deal. I can't see your problem.

I've been sending him monthly reports saying

that Britain is a clean, well-run province

with a hard-working, loyal population.

I see your problem.

Wait, perhaps the gods have sent this as a test for me.

That's it, yes.

Perhaps this is an opportunity for me to prove myself.

Yes, perhaps this is the hour for a new Aulus.

Yes, a get-up-and-go Aulus.

From now on, just call me Aulus "let's kick arse" Paulinus.

And for a start, Badvoc, I'm going to put an end to all your fun and games.

Ready!

Right, now, this is a more detailed map of the area south of Chelmsford.

It strikes me, which ever way the emperor and his entourage come,

they've got to march along here at some point.

Won't that ruin the map?

Eh?

Well, all them footprints all over the map.

Blag, we're trying to...

Shut the door, we're coming out.

Roman soldiers.

They're coming in here. Blag, eat the map.

Well, well, well.

Badvoc, Mungo and Blag.

This is cosy.

Pleased to meet you, Cosy.

Listen, I think we've had enough of your lips, Badvoc.

If I hear any more from your cheeks, I'll have your goitres for gateposts.

Er, Loquens, I see you've been keeping up with the spoken British lessons.

Yes. You Britons have got a very hard tongue, Badvoc.

But I'm going to stick it out as long as I can.

Good for you.

- Drink before you go? - Bite to eat?

Bit of map?

Wait a minute. That man's eating a bit of parchment.

Yeah. He likes that now and again.

The odd bit of paper, cloth, parchment.

He's part moth. On his mother's side.

He takes after his father. Thank God.

Otherwise he'd be crashing into the walls,

flying into the light, nibbling the curtains.

- It'd be a nightmare. - Listen, Badvoc,

I hope you're not planning anything that's against the lav.

We're here to uphold the lav.

Anyone who breaks the lav will be for it.

No, don't worry. Anything we do will be strictly inside the lav.

Good.

Because if there's the slightest bit of trouble,

when Caesar comes into his horse

on Chelmsford back tomorrow,

you may end up with your neck in a goose.

Do I make myself clear?

- Yeah, my noose will be cooked. - Precisely.

You've banged the nail right through your head.

So just keep your nose peeled.

Understand?

I think we speak the same language.

- Good. - Bye, then.

- Ta-da. - Bye.

Hello. Hi.

Bye.

Yes, I suppose we should, really.

We should really speak the native language.

- Bloody imposition though it is. - Quite.

Right, let's get on with it. Take your clothes off.

It's not Tuesday, is it?

Don't be daft. We're swapping clothes.

I put on yours, you put on mine.

Might one ask why?

Well, you are going into Chelmsford ahead of me disguised as me,

in case there are any assassination attempts

or kidnapping attempts or something like that.

Oh, I see. If the attempts are successful, I get killed instead of you.

- Well, that's charming. - Yes.

It's for risks like these that I pay you the enormous salary that I do, Clupeus.

But what'll happen if I do get killed?

Well, for a start, I shall be a lot better off.

Right, enough of that.

Let's get our clothes off.

All right.

Actually, as we are taking our clothes off, we might as well...

Right, gentlemen, as you can see, this is a map of Britain.

We are here, the southeast, in Chelmsford.

Londinium.

And across here, of course, Hadrian's Wall,

our main fortification against the Caledonians

nipping across the Chanel into Kent

up in the north there.

Yes, I knew that. Yes, yes. Well spotted.

Gentlemen, only Grasientus has spotted my deliberate mistake.

The map, of course, is the wrong way round.

How am I expected to govern this province if

my generals don't know which way up it is?

Concentrate!

There.

Now, what about entertainments for the emperor's visit?

The emperor loves watching Christians being thrown to the lions.

Not very practical here.

No lions.

Throw the Christians to something else, then. What do we have here?

- Sheep. - Fine.

Throw Christians to the sheep.

Nice variation. The emperor will love it.

Not really the same, you know.

Christians and sheep.

They're not exactly savage, you know.

They're rather simple woolly-minded aimless creatures.

I know, but the sheep are good fun.

- Aulus, a quick word. - Out.

- There's a quick word. - Eh?

Badvoc, this is a new regime.

No-one, least of all a filthy Briton, ambles

into my office without written permission.

Unless he's holding the emperor hostage in a secret hideaway.

Exactly. Now, get out.

The cheek of it! Bursting into my office to tell me "I've kidnapped the emperor."

I've more important things to worry about than Badvoc kidnapping the emperor.

Like making sure the emperor gets here on time.

Badvoc!

Yes?

What do you want? Money?

Not money, Aulus.

Liberty.

- Liberty? - Yes, and money.

Mungo, read out the demands.

In exchange for the life of the Emperor Hadrian,

the tribe of Badvoc demands from the governor of Britain,

one Aulus Paulinus, the following:

Permanent exemption from any Roman harassment and interference;

400 bags of gold;

permission to use the governor's gold-plated bath...

At least twice a year.

Once with water.

Restoration of all hunting and fishing rights;

permission to wear ceremonial heron bladder on Tuesday;

another 100 bags of gold;

a canteen of cutlery; and a weekend for two in Gaul.

And you expect me to agree to that absurd proposal?

Yes. Well?

I'll need some time to think about it.

- You've got 48 hours. - I'll need longer than that.

- Well, I can probably stretch to 36. - 24

- 12. - Split the difference.

- Six. - Done.

- Back in six hours. - Er, Badvoc...

- Where can I get you? - At the tavern.

- And after that? - My shack.

Where did you say you're keeping the emperor hostage?

Ahh!

- Nice try, Aulus. - Naughty, naughty.

- He's in Ralph's barn. - Thank you.

O mighty Jupiter,

god of gods,

king of gods,

O great Jupiter,

who is so great yet insulted by the word "god",

O mighty Jupiter,

who's my favourite god...

He is.

O great Jupiter,

guess who used to stick up for you at school.

Whenever there was an argument in the playground about who was the best god.

It was always me.

Please hear my prayer, I beg you.

Let the emperor be in Ralph's barn.

Please let the emperor be in Ralph's barn.

Pretty please.

Let the emperor be in Ralph's barn.

Thank you. Amen.

- We've searched Ralph's barn. - And?

- He's not there. - Excuse me.

O Jupiter,

you bastard!

You uncooperative self-centred bastard!

May you be hearing from my solicitors in the morning.

You charlatan of a god!

Amen.

Aulus, I've had an idea.

Ah, Grasientus,

you've got that repellent, oily, sneaky, snaky, leery sneer on your face.

Yes.

That's the one.

What little plan have you dreamt up?

Let Badvoc keep the emperor.

What?

Let him kill him or starve him or torture him or whatever.

You go back to Rome proclaiming that the Emperor Hadrian with his dying breath

named you as his successor.

How dare you.

Grasientus, I am a loyal servant of both Rome and the emperor.

How dare you suggest that I would let Badvoc keep him!

Well?

You can keep him.

Sorry?

I will not be blackmailed by an enemy chieftain, Badvoc.

Oh, I see. You want some more time to think about it.

Nope.

- Three hours. - No.

All right, six hours is my last offer.

Get back to your prisoner, Badvoc.

Listen, Aulus. I'll be back here in 12 hours

and you'd better have made up your mind.

I will not tolerate any more delays. All right?

Bye, Badvoc.

And when I say 12 hours, I really mean 18 hours. All right?

Give my love to the emperor, Badvoc.

Aulus must be bluffing.

He must be bluffing.

He can't seriously want me to torture you to a long, slow painful death.

No, I wouldn't have thought so.

You stay out of this, Emperor.

I've told you a thousand times, I'm not the emperor.

Prove it.

What has Aulus told you about the emperor?

That you're short, fat, pug-ugly with a face covered in warts.

Yeah, just like you, stumpy.

Short, fat, ugly git.

Why don't you just stand on a barrel, you short-arsed, dwarf-like...

diminutive, minuscule...

non-Iofty toe-rag.

So he told you that I was short, fat and ugly just like me?

Yeah, except that you're not that short, of course.

Not very fat either, is he?

No, and he's only sort of mediumly ugly.

- His warts have cleared up. - Yeah, nice.

You see what I'm getting at?

- Er, yeah. - Yeah.

Oh, I see what you mean.

You're really the emperor in disguise.

Right, Grasientus, how does this sound?

People of Rome, I salute thee.

I Caesar Aulus Paulinus.

Imperial Majesty of the world.

Your last emperor, Hadrian the Great,

was kidnapped and assassinated by British terrorists.

I tried to rescue him but, alas, I was too late.

- Aulus, if I... - Not now, Grasientus. I'm in full flow.

As I cradled the dying emperor in my arms,

he looked up and he said,

"Aulus,

Aulus,

you've been like a son to me.

Please, please succeed me as emperor.

Well, I was as surprised as you are.

- Aulus... - Not now, Grasientus.

"Who, me, emperor?" I said. "No, I couldn't possibly."

"Oh, go on," he said. "Please, please, take

it, take it, take it. Let me die in peace."

"All right," I said, "if it makes you feel happy." "Oh, it does, it does.

Oh, thanks a bunch," he said.

"You know, the people of Rome are really fortunate having you as their new Caesar."

- Bravo. - Thank you very much.

As...

Yes, Aulus, continue.

I said, continue.

Peo...

P... People of Rome.

Ha!

Hi-ya!

Well, I can see a few of you now are beginning to giggle and laugh

and that you've recognised that story was just a little one of my jokes.

Um, but in fact the emperor was really kidnapped,

but managed to escaped, as only someone as great as he could.

So, enough of my prattle, anyway,

and let me present to you now the man you've all been waiting for.

The one and only Emperor Hadrian!

OK. Oh, yeah.

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Whoo! Whoo!

Hail Caesar!

Fine speech, Aulus.

Oh, you're too kind, Your Highness.

And if I'm not mistaken, total bollocks.

Oh, you flatter me.

Pardon?

- So, you were going to rescue me? - Indeed.

- Where? - Where they were holding you hostage.

And where was that?

I'm not at liberty to divulge that because of security reasons.

But I haven't been kidnapped!

Aulus, this Emperor Hadrian geezer that I'm holding hostage.

- I'm sorry, do I know you? - Don't play games, Aulus.

Listen. You said as far as you were concerned, I

could kill the emperor, starve him, torture him.

I don't know who you are.

You've been drinking. You're talking nonsense.

Listen, Aulus. You said I could keep the emperor and kill him, right?

I'm sorry, I don't know who you are, Badvoc.

- Who? - Lucky guess.

I've been getting a bit suspicious, you see, cos the geezer we've kidnapped,

well, he's sort of tall and thin and a bit airy-fairy.

And for the last year you've been saying that the emperor is short, fat and ugly.

Oh, I don't think I have.

Listen, your exact words were "a short, fat, pug-ugly perverted megalomaniac

with a face like a sheep's gut turned inside

out and deliberately coated with warts."

A bit like this bloke, in fact.

Evening.

Good evening.

H...

He...

I can explain everything.

I think I explained that rather well.

- Huh! - What do you mean, huh?

If you hadn't suggested going back to Rome, this would never have happened.

It would never have occurred to me to go back to Rome

if Badvoc had not kidnapped the emperor in the first place.

Don't blame me. If Romans hadn't invaded Britain in the first place,

it wouldn't have occurred to me to kidnap the emperor.

Hang on, if the Britons had put up a better fight

in the first place, we wouldn't have invaded.

You can't blame us for that.

If the French had put up a better fight in Gaul,

you'd never have got the chance to invade us.

That's true.

Bloody French.

Still, look on the bright side.

It's always nice to go on a journey, see a bit of the Empire.

Stop your talking and row, you lot.

Come on and row. Ripped By mstoll