All language subtitles for Karaoke BBC 1996 1 of 4 eng sub

¶ Why must I be a teenager in love?

¶ Each time we have a quarrel

¶ it almost breaks my heart

¶ 'Cause I'm so afraid

¶ that we will have to part

¶ Each night I ask the stars up above

¶ Why must I be a teenager in love?

¶ Each time we have a quarrel

¶ it almost breaks my heart

¶ 'Cause I'm so afraid

¶ that we will have to part

God in Heaven.

Must be yonks
since he was a teenager.

In or out of love.

Yeah. Well. There you go.

If he keeps this up,
he'll empty the place.

-He can do what he likes, can't he?
-Oh?

Can he?

He is only the bloody owner, enn'e?

I mean, it's his place, darling.

¶ if you should say we're through

¶ Well if you want to make me cry

¶ that won't be so hard to do

¶ If you should say goodbye

¶ I'd still go on loving you

¶ Each night I ask the stars up above

¶ Why must I be a teenager in love?

¶ I cried a tear
(1: DINSDAG)

¶ for nobody but you

¶ I'll be a lonely one if you should say we're through

¶ Well if you want to make me cry
that won't be so hard to do

¶ and if you should say goodbye
I'll still go on...

Loving you

On what?
-Sorry?

Oh nothing, I...

This is all a bit undignified, isn't it?

I think I was thinking about something else,

at least...
I hope I was thinking about thinking about something else.

Well, Mr Feeld, I'm now going
to insert this soft tube into your rectum.

I'm now definitely thinking about something else,

spare me the guided tour,
please.

Oh, it's not too uncomfortable I assure you.
But...

you'll feel as though you want to defecate,

Needless to say, I'd be extremely grateful if you didn't.

God, no. I've been well and truly purged anyway,
and. Oops. Sorry.

I don't mind coming out that end.

But if you could resist the urge
to -um- OK?

Here it goes.

The liquid barium is going in.

Comfortable?
All right?

You'll be able to see what's going on in your intestines
by looking at that little monitor above...

Not my sort of drama, doctor.

And I didn't play with frog spawn
when I was a kid either.

And on to your tommy.

EACH TIME WE HAVE A QUARREL

IT ALMOST BREAKS MY HEART

He can do what he likes,
can't he?

Could you say that again,
please, sir?

CLA RIJJIS.

No, no. Her adress
here in the United Kingdom.

Her home here.
-What?

In England.

Where does she live?

I said. I said.
CLA RIJJIS.

Cla Rijjis. How do you...

Oh, Claridge's? The hotel?

I said. I said. CLA RIJJIS.
-Sorry sir. I'm sorry.

And if I could just have your - um -

your mother's date of birth.

What? What.
What do you say?

Her age sir. Please.

How old is she?

When was she born?

???

???

61. She is 61.

61? Oh, but...

6-1. 6-1.
Sixty bloody one.

That was a great year for St Emilion,

but I should be drunk now, OK?

Who in charge here? Eh? Eh?

Well Ben. That wasn't as bad
as my thoughts had made it to be.

My dignity does not, after all,
reside in my bum-hole.

Good. Good. But it took longer
than my thoughts, Daniel.

And I think I'm going to be date for my late.

It was the second bit I didn't like very much.
The barium was fine... well, ish...

but then they go and pump air up your arse.

Air? What do you mean air?
- It's to extend the lower bowel or something.

Christ, I thought I was going to float out of there
like the Graf Zepplin.

Wish you had been able to float, Daniel.

Why the heck don't you finally,
finally learn to drive?

Surely it'd make a sot of lense.

Now. Now. Your spoonerisms are showing, Ben!

Look - if I can't call on you,
as my agent,

for the occasional if demeaning bit
of comfort and chauffeuring.

then I'm pretty sure
that there are few other grand literary agents in this town

who would be quite willing to oblige.
And without getting their words back to front!

Dan. Are you all right?

How much did I earn last year, Ben?

Hey now. What's all this. You know very well
I don't mind driving you to something like this

but I mo have a deeting.
- No. Come on. How much? Last year?

488.724,80 pond, bruto.

Jesus Christ on a bike!

And you know it
just like that.

To the pearest nenny. Nearest p-penny.

You know, I had no idea it would be as much as...

When are they going to catch on,
those studios paying for drafts they never actually make... ?

So... let's see...

you yourself, Ben Baglin, you make forty-eight thou...

No, nearly forty-nine thousand pounds in twelve months
from my scratchy old pen, eh?

And then you kick up a fuss about...
-No, you look.

I mean, heavens... I mean, it's not as though
you haven't done it often enough before, now is it?

I don't want to do it with him at all,
thank you very bleed'n much.

But they are speaking my...

It's not as though you got to
keep on doing wiv him, now is it?

I don't wanna do it at all,
fanks very much.

I mean, Christ... I mean,
it's not as though you ain't done it often enough before...

What do you mean?
- Oh, come on Angel

You have done more bleeding blokes than I had bleed'n...

Daniel. Daniel what are you saying here? Come on.

You're joking, right?

They were speaking my lines.
- No, no, no.

It's been happening to me all morning, Ben.

This man burbling on the radio when I woke up...
OK, OK, it was in a different context, yes, all that...

but suddenly he comes out
with an excact same sentence from my Karaoke script.

And then...
- But that is cure poincidence.

And then when I was about
to have the barium enema,

I distinctly heard

the song that begins the whole story...

you know, `Why must I be a...'
-What do you mean, heard?

Like Joan of Arc,
do you mean...

And then afterwards, the nurse,
she... or I thought she...

Oh, what's the point.

All I know is... All I know is...
something very strange is...

You've just been feeling a bit low, Daniel.

That stomach ache,
and... forgive me,

but I'll say it just once more,
I promise.

Don't you think you're drinking
just a bit too much?

Drop me here, stop.
- Aw, Daniel, come on...

No, no, it's just that... No.

I've decided not to go
to the cutting room.

This bloody tummy-ache, it's...

No. If you put me down here,

I can beat that one-way system
and cut through to my flat.

I need to lie down for a bit.
Or walk for a bit. Or something..

You want me to call
the cutting room? Or anybody?

I'm seeing flap, flap, rush, rush Anna
for dinner tonight, anyway.

We are going to that brasserie
where they filmed the opening. Yuk.

She'll talks about drink too.

And to as little effect,
I promise you.

¶ Your cheatin' heart

¶ Will make you weep

¶ You'll cry and cry

¶ And try to sleep...

¶ But sleep won't come

¶ The whole night through

¶ Your cheatin' heart

¶ Will tell on you

¶ When tears come down

¶ Like falling rain

¶ You'll toss around

¶ And call my name

¶ ... you'll walk the floor

¶ The way I do

¶ Your cheatin' heart

¶ Will tell on you

Oh. It's the fan.

Of course.

Sorry, Mr Morse...?
- What?

Sorry, I thought you spoke...
- I ?

No, no. My mistake.

Ah. I see. You think that I
talk to myself, do you?

No Mr Morse. Of course not.

Then why are you hovering?

I just thought you wanted something...

Oh, but I do.

All old men want to call back yesterday.

But I don't imagine for one moment
that this establishment could offer up...

Dear God.

I mean... it's not as though you got to
keep on doing it wiv him, now is it?

Don't want to do it with him at all,
fanks bleed'n much.

I mean, Christ...it's not as though
you haven't done it often enough before.

What do you mean?
- Oh. come on, Angel.

You've had more bonks wiv more blokes
than I've had bleed'n Weetabix.

Now look
I've hardly ever never done it for the...

No! Not for the money!

I want a thousand down on
the table before I even...

You've got a bloody cheek, Peter. Sod off!
- Hey. Hey. Watch that lip

No, no, no. I know what you... No.

No. It's very clearly her
we want to see, Ian.

Is it?
- I know it is.

Are you sure?

I know it is. Full stop.
- Fine. Period.

I'm not saying I disagree, Nick

But I think Ian has something of a point when he...
- Who was that?

On the phone.
- Oh, Ben Baglin.

`Back-to-front-Ben'.
Daniel Feeld's agent.

Daniel Feeld. Words never back to front.

In his scripts they are supposedly
in a perfect pre-ordained by Almighty God himself.

Daniel Feeld. The precious bastard.

I.. It seems he can't come to the cutting room
until tomorrow. He is not very...

Thank God for that. Perhaps we can get on a bit at last.

But he'll have his say, you know.
Especially about the music.

Och now... he will! And his funny old agent
will tell you to take a junnig rump.

EEC Counsel Directive
89 stroke 622.

You pig. You indulgent pig.

Obey the EEC! Obey!

Aaaaaagh! The health Police!

I confess.
- Daniel.

Good afternoon. Nigel here.

I've had the plates biked around me,
and I think I can safely tell you what's wrong with you.

Well. Join the queue, Doctor,
it's like a Harrods sale.

You are suffering from sigmoid spastic colon, Daniel.

It's these spasms which gave you the pain.

You can actually see what is going on
when you look at the plates.

Anyway, I've got your prescription ready.

I'll have it biked around to Ben's office
and someone there will file it and bring you the pills.

They're called Spasmonal.
Stop the spasms. OK?

And then let's see.

Spastic colon?

Is that what you're calling it? Sounds sweet.

Or what is popularly known as IBS...

Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

Use witchever diagnoses
impresses whomsoever the most.

I'm sorry it's not a little more dramatic.

Well, I've known for a long time
that I've got an irritable head syndrome...

But is that all it is?
And what causes it?

In a word, stress.

Fucking nonsense. Stress. Me?

I'm as gentle as the beat of an angel's wings.

The words of the song come up
on the lower half of the screen, in English,

sandwiched by Japanese.

At the same time, from the start,
a male voice is singing badly with an East End accent,

the same words as they march
across the screen, darkening on cue...

Slow dissolve.

¶ I cried a tear

¶ for nobody but you

¶ I'll be a lonely one...

¶ if you should say we're through

¶ Well if you want to make me cry

¶ that won't be so hard to do

¶ and if you should say goodbye

¶ I'll still go on loving you

¶ Each night I ask the stars up above

¶ Why must I be a teenager in love?

¶ I cried a tear

¶ for nobody but you

I'll be a lonely one if you should say...

What? Oh yes. That song...

The song at the start of Karaoke.

The baptismal bounce.

Well... yes.
- What do you mean?

Aren't you sure, Ms Producer?
- Sure?

Hey, babe. What's that steak made off?
Asbestos. Cork. What?

Maybe. Or my brain.
- Your what?

You live alone, don't you, Daniel?

No wife, no misstres.

The occasional sleazy and
all but commercial sneeze-like bonk,

preferably with someone
who has more to lose than I have.

No children. No commitments. No cleaner.

And, please note,
and a capacity for minding my own business.

Well, that's all very nice.
- Except?

Except it makes you forget
how to talk to people.

And how to treat your colleagues.

Or even how to be even halfway polite.
- But it was a crucial, comic opening song in my script, Anna...

Where we first see that sleazy place,

and Arthur Mallion bellowing the words so badly.

`Pig' Mallion, the blackmailer, the real, foul-mouthed heavy.

Why do they do it, restaurants?

Muzak, or whatever?

To fill the empty and divert the bored.

What else? Showbiz. Essence off.

I usually manage to shut it out.

I mean, if you let background music get to you,
you'd hardly ever be able to eat out at all.

They even do it in funeral parlours nowadays.

`On the Sunny Side of the Street' or... um...
`Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries'. Eh?

Each night I ask the stars up above,

why must I be a teenager in love?

Too on the nose.
- That's the point. Smack on the schnoz, my love.

No, I mean to be really funny, or...

And it just sort of lies there, that song.

Nick isn't... well, you know what Nick's like...

But he isn't happy with it.

Aaa, poor lickle ting!

And he wants to change it.
- Well, he can't.

And in any case he's alresdy shot it.

It was on one of those bloody awful
casettes you sent me.

He shot an alternative version.
- He what?

He's... Daniel, it's not a bad choice as such...

same sort of...

He's used `Your Cheatin'Heart'.
The Hank Williams number. And it...

Wait there.

Don't move.

... and that was what he said.

God, I was in stitches!
- Hurry up.

`Wot? Wot'? he said. `All bloody right then,' he said.

What do you call a fish
that hasn't got an eye...

Are you going to be long?

Oh, God, Annie... wait for it...

I said are you...

It's a fish. Get it? A fish. No ``i'', see.

Oh, shit.
- ...Listen to her.

REALITY ... OR NOTHING

At last! Ben... what the... Ben, this is Daniel...

What the hell are you doing, man?
- Doing? Doing?

I'm up to my neck in scripts as usual,
what do you think I'm ducking fooing?

Well, you certainly take half a decade to answer!
The point is this...

that snotty, chinless bastard Nick Balmer

has taken it in into his puffed-up
apology for a head

to tamper with Karaoke, and I want you

straight at once! Ben! I want you...
- Is everything all right madam?

Oh, yes. Splendid, thank you.
Dinner with a lunatic.

It's part of the community care programme.

Well, we'll soon have
that sorted out. I hope.

Daniel. For Christ sake.
- Oh. You haven't finished eating, have you?

Didn't you like it, or... Hey.
And your glass is empty! I'm sorry.

Oh God. Haven't you had enough already?
- I knew you'd say that.

I'm sorry. Look.
I'm not the sort of writer

who thinks that his words on the page
are some kind of holy writ in tablets of stone.

No? Well then...
put down your chisel.

This is... weird. Sort of creepy.
- How do you mean?

Well, I felt a bit unsettled
eating here in the first place.

Your choice, fella.

I mean, the place where you lot
filmed on that Sunday all those months ago.

The self-same place. And here they are playing
the first song in the script.

And it will be, Anna.
It will be!

I don't like the song, of course,

but I hate the other one...
and it doesn't have the same resona...

What is the matter?

Oh. It's the fan.
- Daniel.

The fan... reflected on the top of the...

For a moment I thought I was getting a message
from somewhere else... or...

or... the way the...
on the surface of the...

Daniel. Why are you repeating
your own lines?

Am I? Yes. I...
Oh, this stomach. God in heaven.

Speaking my own lines?
Well... isn't that rather the point?

Isn't that what my script's about?
Karaoke!

As a metaphor, I mean.

The music's written and performed by someone else

and there's this pidding little space left

for you to sing yourself,
but only to their lyrics,

their timing, it's a feeling that...

Dan. Are you all right?

The fee...
The feeling that...

what we hear... see... think that what is so...
say out of there. In front of us...

the way we feel it's somehow or other
been arranged in advance by... by...

Oh, I don't know how to call it...
- Paranoia?

I've always longed to be
an artsy-fartsy arsehole, Anna,

which is why I want to work for the Arts Council

or that magazine, what is it?
Sight and Sound. I'd make a...

It's straight out of it...

it's the second page of my...

What's happening here?

Just... look, hang about a sec.

If you just hold your bleed'n horses a minute.

I don't...

`If you just hold your bleed'n horses a minute...'

What?
- Look... is this some sort of set-up...

Are you lot trying out a joke on me,
or what?

Daniel? What on earth are you on about?

They are speaking my lines.

Now look, Sandra!
- No! You look.

I mean, it's not as though you haven't done it
often enough before, now is it?

I don't want to do it with him at all,
thank you very bleed'n much.

Christ, I mean... it's not as though you ain't done it
often enough before, honey.

What do you mean?
- What I mean? Blimey. Wake up!

You've had more blokes than I've had bleed'n...
- Weetabix.

I've never hardly ever never done it for the...
No! Not for money!

What do you think I am?

I'd want a thousand on the table before I even...

You've got a bloody cheek, Peter.
Sod off!

Hey. Hey.
Watch that lip.

I'm sorry, love... I...

I thought for a minute there I thought that
those two... over there... you see?...

They are too far away, aren't they?

Can you hear what they're saying?

Anna? Can you?

Your speech is gettig slurred.
Do you know that?

Anna! Can you hear what they're saying!

Of course I can't. And why would I even want to,
for heaven's sakes?

Daniel. Please.
Surely you've had enough.

And it can't be doing
that stomach of yours much good.

Haven't they told you that, the doctors?

Why don't you look at me
when I am talking to you?

What the hell's going on
in that pretty little head? Eh?

That guy. Keeps staring at me.

What. Him?

He's nothing.

And you should be used
to all that by now.

You're something you are, Sandra.
Real special.

No, all the time...
eyes sticking out of his head.

So long as he's not
from your actual Customs and Excise...

Nah. Nah. Looks to intelligent.

You'd think I was in the bleed'n
Top Shop window or something.

I've had enough of this!
- Hey! None of that!

You dragged up
in a pigsty or what?

I'll assume service is included?

Oh, but... but...
Anna. That was my invite...

You're not here, Daniel.
You're off on some other planet.

The one you can only see
through the bottom of a bottle.

Come on! Eh? Get yourself home
and sleep it off.

You're due in the cutting room tomorrow,
and I'd like your head clear.

Yeah. To assess the mess.

What mess?

Hah?
- No. What mess?

Thank you ver' much. I hope you enjoy.

Come again please.

We all know what Nick's like... but I think he's done
a pretty good job on your script, Daniel.

He's too arrogant! It's that twit-twit bray!

That uppah uppah class thing,

cousin-or-something of the Queen thing.

A trenchful of blue shite.
- Must go, Daniel.

It's my work, my sweat,
he's fucking up!

I'm not going to be knocked down
by his bloody Rolls Royce!

There's a long way to go yet.

Lots of things happen in the cutting room,
as you well know.

You didn't bother
to come on location once,

and you've only seen a few rushes on casette,
so why don't you wait and...

And anyway you don't mean half of this.

You 're drunk, Dan.
It's gibberish.

It's more tiredness than the...

And deep disappointment,
I'm sorry to say...

deep, deep disapp...

...Aeh... Hang on!

Anna! Anna!

Anna!

That girl in my Karaoke...
God. She has such a horrible death, doesn't she?

Will I see any of that in the cutting room tomorrow?
The killing?

We're still on the first reel.
Of course not.

The poor girl. It's such
a horrible way to die.

Why can you never get
a taxi when it's raining?

Oh, but you can if you've got an umbrella...

Rucking fain, as Ben'd say...

Half a mo'... didn't I have an umbrella?

When `why must I be a teen...

Oh, no. That was the old man
in my... um... my...

Here's one!

Do you want a lift... ?
Daniel?

No. Don't go!

Anna! Wait! Wait... !

Shall I stop?
- No, thank you. Not on your bloody life!

And there is this guy... `Listen,' he says.

`He's got one hell of a serious condition. Fatal!'

And I am thinking, God, no,
do you mean Aids or the big C or...

Worse, ' he said. `He's undercapitalized!'

He should press his conk
up against a drug store window.

`And then the groteskly patterned tie
comes over his head and around her throat.

She thinks at first that it is some other kind of game
in the manner she had come to expect from him.

But then the choking begins'

My God. There's some bloody lunatics about,
Mr Balmer.

You don't know how exactly right you are,
for once.

Sorry?
- Well, it so happens that that particular lunatic was My Writer.

I would have given you a bonus
if you'd flattened the cocky little bugger...

And I've doubled it had you reversed back
over whatever was left of him!

Squishy guts. A great sound.

Sounds good to me.
Will I get another go at it, sir?

I'll make sure you do, Tom.

Come on.

Come on.

It's only a story.

A... story.

I know this is the second time
I've changed my mind...

Don't matter a bit to me, miss.

B'if you could wait here. I shouldn't be longer
than fifteen minutes at the most.

As long as you like, love.
- And then take me to where I first said, Muswell Hill.

Couldn't be better. That's my neck of the woods,
and then I'm done. - Okay.

¶ When tears dum dee.

¶ Like ralling fain.

¶ You'll dum dee dum.

¶ And tall my came... !

No!

He'll be very, very cross with me, my dear.

I shall be made to go to bed early.

Oh, but I'm sure...

Mother! No! What have I always said?

Mother! How could...

Anna! You really, really...
- She's a nice girl, Ben.

Bo to ged!
- I'm going. I'm going.

A nice girl. Nice, nice girl.

That's what you should be
thinking of, Ben! Ben... !

Oh dear. I...
- This is my leasure hour.

My private time.
- Yes, I'm...

Oh, God. I'm sorry to barge in on you like this,
but I've just been with your client Daniel Feeld, and I...

My, my nephew... what!
Ah! My youngest sister's youngest boy.

She won't let him... so I... well...
during the day, you know...

I'm out, after all... So I...
- But isn't it wonderful.

Is it?

The boy must be a genius, it's so...

Really, Ben. This is something
I am very glad to have seen.

I thought all these sort of things,
all those sort of skills had...

gone with the wind!
- Well. Yes. I know what you...

I must admit I'm sometimes tempted
to hend a land on it myself...

Pardon?
- Lend a hand! Lend a hand!

You know I have this pittle troblem know and then?

Usually when agitated.
- I...

Yes, Ben. But everyone thinks it's rather endearing,
if you'll forgive me saying so.

I... and I'm truly sorry to have caused you any...
um... agitation by baring in like this...

She's been fine up until about
eighteen months ago, my dear old Ma...

Eighty-seven years old.
Been all around the world in all sorts of conditions,

and never once been in hospital.
My Father was a colonel, y'see.

Army. No... fit as a fiddle, old Ma.

Didn't even go into hospital when I came along.

I was born on the lack of a borry. Uh...

But nowadays, I'm afraid,
the old head has sort of packed in a bit.

Well, there you are, there you are.

What did you want to see me about, Anna?

Kucking Faraoke, I suppose.

It was only drizzling when we came into that dump.

Now look at it! Pissing down.

You got a real nice way
of putting things, I'll give that.

Up you.
- I mean, a bloke could take you anywhere.

Well, my hair will get soacked.

Moan, moan. Christ,
you've only got to walk a few yards.

You haven't got enough up top
to worry about, haveya? Outside or in.

Hey!
- Well it's right.

Here. Have my bloody coat, willya!

Put it over your head and shut up.
- Ta.

... and I was just so worried.
He's obviously not very well,

and there's going to be such a terrible blow-up
when he finally does come to the cutting room.

I dread it.

And I think it's going to threaten
the show, Ben. Really.

Nick Balmer is not my client, thank God...

but I've had previous dealings, my girl,

and he can be a very, very pifficut derson.

Dear old Dan, whom I dearly love,
in case you doubt it...

well, he's only half of your problem, if that.

You'll have to be the boxing referee

who gets a right hook from one
and an upper-cut from t'other.

Be strong. And wear metal underwear, eh?

The trouble is, I'm not in a very strong position
on this project, to be absolutely honest.

Yes. I know that, my dear.
Very awkward for you.

It's not easy to step up
from being a line producer...

You see, Nick has invested nearly three-quarters
of a million pounds of his own loot in the film.

He owns the script...
- With certain contractual restraints.

Of course. But what I'm saying is...

What you're saying is
that Nick Balmer is appointed you

and make damned sure
that in the last resort you...

do... what... he... wants.

He who fays the piddler.
- Oh,

Yes.
You're dead right, of course.

I may well have to resign...

throw it all up.
Walk off into what won't be a sunset.

No, no, no. Hang on in there.
Do what you can. Come on.

You know this business
almost as well as I do.

It's as tightly packed
as a bolf gall

with idiots, charlatans,
strutting egoists, flundering bools!

So. - So?
- So... you'll meet him? Yeah?

At least meet him.
Wontcha!

And it's a real nice hotel, love. Sandra!
- What?

You're a bitch! A real bitch!
- But what do I get out of it? You tell me that?

It's not what you get, Angel.
It's what you don't get!

Whatchewmean?
- You don't get that clip round the ear'ole for a start, my girl.

And you won't be needing no work off
of no plastic surgeon, willya?

Got to save her, I've got to...
rewrite,

or... or...
New lines!

No. I've got my own reason for working here.
And it's a very special one.

What is it then? Come on? What?
- Never you mind!

I know what goes on in there.
God Almighty!

You know damned well it's just
a posh sort of knocking-shop!

Ha! That's what you think!
You got no bloody idea at all!

Bastard.

You shit!

¶ How much is that doggie in the window? Arf, arf

¶ The one with the waggly tail

¶ How much is that doggie in the window? Arf, arf

¶ I do'hope that doggie's for sale

¶ I must take a trip to California

¶ And leave my poor sweetheart alone

¶ If he has a dog he won't be lonely

¶ And the doggie will have a good home

Happy ending!

Happy ending! Must...
write... a happy ending!

Got to help her!
Got to save her!

¶ In the window? Arf, arf

¶ I do'hope that doggie's for sale

¶ How much is that doggie in the window?

Well, hi! It's still raining then!

How's about a nice dry champagne?
- Um. Well, OK. Yes.

Would you like it brought over
to one of the alcoves over there?

It's much more comfy and one of the young ladies...
- No.

No? Oh, but you'll be so much...
- I'll just stand here, thanks.

I'm not going to stay very long.

I presume I'm allowed to do that.
And I'm very fond of dogs.

You can do what you like.
That's the whole point darling.

So, just relax, OK?

Thanks. I'll just crack my knuckles
in rythm, from time to time.

They all somehow sort of look
the bloody same, don't they?

Yeah. Scumbags.
- It's wet...

might not be many in,
that's the trouble.

And he looks too pissed to try a poke.

Hi! My name is Angie. I was looking at you...
- No.

Hi, I'm Angie. I was looking at you
when you came in and I fought, he's...

Who?
- Sorry?

Who did you fight?

What are you laughing at, then?
- I've used that line before.

Pardon?
- But so have you...

Look... I'm only trying to be...
- Go away.

What... ?

No. Please. I know you're only doing your...

but... I've got this... this...

Don't know whether my head's in my belly
or my belly's in my head.

They're both a fucking mess.

Christ.

So if you'll leave me be.

Oh, all right then. Cheers.

Perhaps you'd rather have
a nice little chat with one of the others...

No. I only came in...

Lovely. Isn't she.
I... Yes. Yes she is. Very lovely.

Even in that garb.

... and with a face like a fucking bent fiddle!

I'm sorry, Mr Mailion, but I just had this row
with my boyfriend as was and...

I don't give a pint of horse piss
for your private life, my gal.

This is where you get paid

this is where you should bring
your pretty little arse on time

and this is where

you-should-crack-your-fucking-fizzog-
in-a-fucking-smile. Right?

Right.

Excuse me, Mr Mailion.

But the gentleman down there
at the other end of the bar

would like to have a drink with Sandra.

What?

Dom fucking Perignon, right?

Such a horrible way to...

Hi! I was looking at you when you came in
and I fought...

You fought?
- Beg pardon?

These lines keep cropping up.
The same lines...

I mean... you'd...
like a drink? Please?

Well, thanks very much... yeah!
... But, hey, why don't we have a bottle?

Certainly.
- Dom Perignon.

Ab-so-lutely. The best for the best.

You where staring at me, weren't you?
In that café place.

I... Yes.
- And you followed me in here, didn'tya?

Yes. I did.
- What you want? What you playing at?

Please. What is your name?
- Sandra.

What's the matter?

And the man you where with,
he was called Peter, wasn't he?

Yeah. But what's that got to do with you?
You know him or what?

I... I'm a writer.
I put words into people's mouths.

And at the moment, I...
oh, God! My stomach!

It's all coming true in front of me.

So listen. I said I put words
into people's mouths. Well, I also...

Are you getting any of this?
Can you understand at all?

Hey! Steady on, Romeo.
- It's not just marks on a page.

It's not just words in other people's mouths.
I make them do things.

I even let them screw each other
or lie to each other or

or or
or kill each other...

Yes! Kill! Kill!
- Hey! Somebody! Quick!

And you... it's you, Sandra!
They're going to kill you...

Somebody!

Help, somebody! Help...

'Ere! You can't do that in my place!

Why must I be a teenager in love

Subtitles edited by CINEMAAS.