All language subtitles for Absolutely Fabulous Season 02 Episode 02 - Death 720p WEB-DL H264 BONE

Do you want some Ecstasy, Eddie?

Are you mad?
Nobody's taking that any more.

People have been dragged
from raves bleeding from every orifice.

This isn't a rave. It's a "happening".

Don't force me to take it, Pats.
I promised Saffy I'd never try it.

She'll never find out.
She doesn't scare me.

Mum!

Keep the noise down.

# This wheel's on fire

# Rolling down the road

# Best notify my next of kin

# This wheel shall explode #

Yes, that's tight enough.

- Where's Olive? She normally does me.
- She's sick.

Aren't you a nurse?
Why aren't you nursing?

This pays better.

How much are you hoping to lose?

Normally I lose about 10 inches
from all over my body.

- How many times have you had this done?
- Seven.

I'll see what I can do.

Personally, I think you're wasting
your money. You want to lose weight?

You want to move that fat bottom
and get your mouth sewn up.

You want to help the environment?

Use your fat bottom
and plug up the ozone layer.

All right!

Are you trained at this?

I am a nurse.
Bandaging is what I do best.

- And I've got the manual.
- Good.

Right. Have you recently had
or are you due for your period?

Yes, both. Is that important?

No. I'm just making conversation.
Relax.

- Mum.
- What?

Aww! It's the little daughter.

Mum, can you come downstairs,
please?

Have you seen what you're talking to?
Tutankhamen.

Mum, it's important.
I've got some bad news.

I'm being shrunk, and then
I've got to pick Patsy up from hospital.

- Tsk, tsk!
- Don't "tsk, tsk"!

Do you think she wanted
her stomach pumped again? No!

She thought they were her antibiotics.

Gran is downstairs and wants to see you.

That has never really worked
as a threat!

- She's got some very sad news.
- How tragic! Oh, what? What?

- I think she should tell you.
- But I'm... What are you blubbing for?

Mum! Come downstairs now!

If I come, the Dead Sea comes with me.
Is that all right?

- Is it all right if I move?
- There you go again!

Mistaking me for someone
who gives a damn!

Who cares if you're fat or thin?
Who cares if you live or die?

- Gran.
- Good morning, dear.

Ooh, I say! Is that all the rage?

- It's a wrap.
- They've changed since my day.

Is it a Vivienne Westwood?

Gran, come on.
You've got something to tell Mum.

Do I have to?

- Come on, Gran.
- You tell her. You're better at these things.

I don't know why,
but I have the feeling I might laugh.

That would just be an hysterical reaction.

Hysterical, but I do think
it would be rather inappropriate.

Come on. Does this look comfortable?

- Mum, maybe you should sit down.
- No, my crust can't be broken.

- You tell her, Saffy.
- No, you tell her, Gran.

- We could do "one potato, two potato".
- Just one of you, now!

You're... Oh, no, dear. You say it.

Very well.
Edina dear, your father is dead.

Well done.

"Well done"? Did she finish him off?

That was it, wasn't it?
I'm not going mad, am I?

Grandad has died!

Is that all you can do?
Don't you think Gran needs a little bit more?

Don't drag me into it, dear.

She's doing her best, I'm sure.
Don't get yourself into a state.

Your father is dead!
What does that make you feel, Mum?

And you can stop smirking!

Upset, sweetie. Upset.

- I told you.
- I'm not ready to crack yet.

Leave the mummy and come to Granny.

- I am upset, darling.
- Mum!

Go upstairs and don't come down
until you've thought about it!

I have thought about it.
Come away from the old woman.

- Look, Mum's upset.
- Go!

I don't know how you do it.
She would never do that for me.

- I expect Grandad kept her in check.
- He was scared stiff of her.

These bandages are very clean.
Where is all the mud?

- Is that good?
- I don't know.

Get up. Let me measure your wrists.

I don't know how this can have happened.

- My God, woman! What have you done?
- What?

This will take your mind off it, Saffy.

I'm sorry, Gran. You're coping so well.
I just feel so sad.

It's all right, dear. I've had longer
to get used to the idea of Grandad dying.

We were married
for nearly 40 years, you know.

It's just there's so much
to think about, to arrange.

All in good time.
Now, it's multiple choice questions.

Are you ready?

How many years was
Margaret Thatcher Prime Minister?

A 900 years.

B 3,000 years.

C 11 years?
A trick question.

- It's all right.
- No, it's not all right.

It's impossible.
It just can't have happened.

Do you want to talk about it?

I've put on 12 inches all over my body!

I mean, my body absorbs mud!

Every pore is now an over-eater!

- I don't understand you, Mum.
- I'm a medical freak, sweetie.

Of course,
they want you to say 11 years.

And that makes me think that it must be
a 900 years.

It was a very, very long time.

Oh, dear!

- What's the matter with her?
- She's upset about your father dying.

Still?

Look! There are certain things
that we should talk about.

The funeral arrangements, the will.

And also about Gran.
Where is she going to live?

- No!
- What?

- She is not coming to live here.
- I am not coming to live here.

No, dear. I am quite happy where I am.

In fact, I'll have a bit more room.

- Are you sure?
- Oh, yes, dear.

Well, I spoke
to the funeral directors this morning.

- It's going to be next Monday.
- All right. I'll make a note of that.

I think I'm free.

Oh! Cancel bridge.

- Then everyone can come here.
- Here?

- And then go on to the church.
- I'm a Buddhist.

Well, don't come! Don't do anything!
Don't think about it! Don't care!

I think I'll be off.

I'll just pop home
and sort things out there.

Take care. And thank you.

Oh, goodbye.

I can't believe the way
you're behaving, that you don't care.

I do care, darling.

Did he leave a will?
What? I'm just asking!

I've made out a will.

You'll get most of the money
in my will.

- What do you think you'll do with it?
- I don't want it!

Of course you do!

Well, don't have it!
I'd rather you didn't have it, in fact.

It's a rather depressing thought
that you might live on after me.

You? Is that how I'll be remembered?
Through you?

- What do you want? A statue!
- Yes.

A great, big, fat,
ugly, armless statue?!

I've got arms! I've got arms!

I just want
to bequeath something to the nation.

Arms!

- Can I help you?
- I want to buy some art.

- Have you seen something here?
- I don't know. I just...

I just want to get some.
What else have you got?

Perhaps if you knew what you were
looking for I could help you.

Is there someone else
who could help me?

I want to, you know,
buy some art. I'm a collector.

Sort of modern stuff.

Please, come downstairs.
We'll see what we can do.

You only work in a shop.
You can drop the attitude.

Notice the quality
in the texture of the brushstrokes.

The artist manages to cast off inertia and
overcome habit in a continual renewal of himself.

Don't give me all this crap!

- I understood you were a collector.
- I am, a serious collector.

I'm not interested in artistic value.

I just want to know how much
this will be worth in 20 years' time.

Oh, I see! Why didn't you say so?

I've been showing you
completely the wrong stuff.

What? This?

I want to see the figures.

And I like these here. These shoes.

And the televisions. I like those.

Also I want one of those... bloodheads.
Those frozen bloodheads.

Anything that's in the Versace collection.
I want things like that.

I just want... everything!

It all looks like bollocks,
so it must be worth something.

Is that you, Mum?

What are you doing down here
in the dark? I heard you get up.

- I suppose it had to hit me sooner or later.
- Yes.

- Actually, darling, it sort of made me think.
- Good.

I don't want to die!

- Oh, dear!
- I know you think I don't feel things.

- I'm sorry we had that row this morning.
- That's all right.

- I've spent most of the money now.
- I don't care.

You still get the house, though.

And any little keepsake,
any little reminder you want of Mummy,

just say and it shall be yours.

I can't really think
of anything right now.

- There must be something.
- No.

What? Nothing?
Nothing in the whole place?

An ashtray, a piece of cutlery,
a glass? Something from the fridge?

- I don't want to think about it.
- Me neither!

But I have to, because I'm dying!

- You're not!
- I am.

Look at those, darling. Look.
They're stunted!

- You bite your nails.
- Not the nails. My lifelines.

- They look fine.
- They end.

- We all die.
- Yes, but I don't want to!

When I think how much
I've invested in this body, this life.

I've had the best of everything.
Pampered by Champney's, fed by Fortnum's.

I've been shaved,
plucked and moisturised.

This carcass ain't croaking
or I'll sue!

If you really want to talk about it,

perhaps now would be a good time
to tell me what you want when you die.

What sort of funeral?
Where would you like to be buried?

- I'm not dead yet.
- I know.

I don't want to be buried.
Have you ever been to a graveyard?

Have you ever read a tombstone?

"So-and-so fell asleep
and was buried on date." Fell asleep!

No, no grave for me, darling.
I'm a Buddhist anyway.

I want to be laid on a rock
in the Ganges and be pecked by birds.

I don't want to end up
as some drugged-up zombie in a hospital.

I thought that would appeal to you.

I want to die with a bit of dignity.

I don't want the last words I hear
to be "Switch her off".

- Mum, I wouldn't!
- You wouldn't, would you, darling?

- It's 3 o'clock in the morning!
- Probably some old drunk. You go.

Come on! Live, live!

You were right. I'm going to bed.

- What are you doing here?
- You were supposed to collect me.

- What?
- From the hospital. I was waiting.

I'm sorry, darling. It's just that...
we had some bad news today.

I need a drink.

- It's very bad news actually, Pats.
- What?

- I'm dying!
- You can't!

- Well, I am!
- What am I supposed to do if you die?

Get cabs!

- I think that's enough people.
- It's not very many.

I know. I was always
telling him to get out more.

- I see she's in mourning at last.
- Only for herself.

- Morning.
- Morning, Mrs M.

Good morning, Patsy.

Eddie tells me that Mr M...
You know...

...dead.

- That's right.
- Well, I... condole you.

- Thank you.
- He chose the right season to go.

- What do you mean?!
- Harvey Nicks have tasty black numbers.

And black is like "in".
You wouldn't have to wear it only the once.

It's my job to know these things.

Silky sheen, silky sheen.

What are you doing, silky sheen?

Making a list of family
and friends for the funeral.

Family? Family...?

You're not inviting that bloody bollocky
selfish two-faced chicken bastard pig man?

You could just say "Dad".
I'd still know what you meant.

Anyway, he can't come. He's away.

Marshall can't make the funeral either.
He's flying back to LA.

But he might call in this morning
to pay his respects.

- How kind!
- Not with that bitch girlfriend.

- He's got a new one.
- Oh, no!

She's a therapist.

Damn!

- The window, the window!
- Stay!

You've done it again!

We are but mere ghosts,
we are spirits soaring.

For some say, forsooth,
that we die at our conception,

and will then henceforth be reborn
into vibrant life when we truly pass on.

For, herewith, I say to you,

who can say whether we are alive
or already dead?

- That's enough now, Sondra.
- To Mother.

I'd like you to have this,
you dear recently-bereaved one.

I hope you don't mind me terming you so.

- There's a passage in the book...
- Marshall!

- That's enough, honey!
- Oh, just this little bit.

- Can I have a drink?
- What a good idea!

- Are you drinking again?
- Yes.

- Welcome back.
- Thanks.

You're no use to her
unless you have a problem.

How perceptive!

I am not
what others perceive me to be.

I am not what I am called,
I am not a name.

I am my own invention.

- I've heard that before. It's Jung or...
- No, it's a traditional quote.

I am merely using the meaning.
No credit required.

You can check it out with my lawyer.
Here.

- Did you write this, dear?
- Yes, that's me. Sondra Lorrance.

I think the title says it all, don't you?
"Hey, It's Great To Grieve!"

- Marshall, how's the script coming?
- Do we have to know?

- It's at a real interesting stage.
- You're doing just fine.

We had Keanu Reeves pull out, which...

...we feel positive about now
because it's taken a different course.

A Japanese company has taken up
the option to do it in animation form.

Pat yourself on the back for that.

- A cartoon...?
- A cartoon!

- Animation!
- A cartoon!

Hi! You really interest me.

I'd really like to talk to you.
Don't worry, I'm a therapist. I'm gestalt.

And I'm g-going. Let's go, Eddie.

Saffy, I'm going to change
and have lunch with Pats.

You really are very aggressive to her.

Do you blame
or hold your daughter responsible

for your ageing, your loss of looks?

No. What's your excuse?

- That was a quality moment.
- Oh, good!

I, too, have felt great sadness.

You are talking to someone
who has sat through "Beaches" 12 times.

Really?

- Oh, that'll be Grandad.
- How sweet!

You still think he's coming home.

No, it really is Grandad.
We're putting the coffin in the sitting room.

Excuse me,
would you run that one by me again?

- The coffin... Am I right?
- Yes.

- With the...?
- Careful, honey.

- The body, yes.
- BODY!

- All right! Calm down.
- These people are crazy!

It's gonna smell!

Take me home!

Has the Yankee
bimbo from hell gone?

God, I hope so, darling!

Oi!

Private parking.

I park here.
You have to have a permit.

- Who's that?
- Just finalising the arrangements.

- What's tomorrow?
- The funeral.

Come on, Pats.
Let's see if my art has arrived.

- Oh, yes, good!
- Are you mad?!

- You don't have to like it, that's not the point.
- How much did this set you back?

- I just spent as much as I could.
- Oh, well, in that case, it's fabulous.

I have bought the future.
Look, let me show you.

This bit here. This, darling, here.
This is the art of Brooks Wood.

These are
arty-povorous jars, darling.

Now, over here... we've got...

This is the materialisation of
a psychotic's dream deciphered by...

hangers.

I like this bit.

This is a...

...corpse... in an open...
oaken... oblong coffin.

Silky lining. It's a dead body, Pats.

But is it art, Eddie?

No, sweetie, it's my father.

- Are you sure?
- I think so.

But I've never seen him in a suit before.

We should go.
No, I want to try one more time.

- She wasn't ready.
- Oh, dear!

Let's go home. Come on.

There, Daddy.

He looks like he's out of it, Eddie.

They can't just leave him here.

- It just looks so, sort of...
- Plonked.

He should be against white. It should
be backlit. No one has thought about it.

- Cheer up.
- I really think we should all be off.

Has no one got any respect?
Do not touch the art!

No one would care
if you lot were run over by a bus.

But if one piece of this art gets damaged,
several Lloyds' underwriters go homeless.

- Come on, Gran, let's go.
- Yes, dear, I just have to change my shoes.

You're not going to the church, are you?

Not unless I'm asked nicely, darling.

Don't come! Or to the cemetery.

- I asked Bubble to represent me.
- Good!

- I might want to go.
- Hello, Eddie.

- Hello, Pats.
- You all right, darling?

- Yeah. You all right?
- Yeah, well, you know.

- What, what?
- Well...

- What, what? I mean...
- You know you said the other day...

- that you were going to die?
- Yes, but I might not be now.

- Well...
- Shut up. This isn't easy for me.

It's just that if you were going to die,
I would be like totally alone.

I wouldn't have anybody or anything.

You've been the lucky one, Eddie.

You've got a family, a great place to live.

Even that bitch daughter
must be some kind of comfort to you.

- Yes, but not always.
- Not like a dear friend.

- No, not like a friend.
- You've always been a great friend.

- I'd miss you.
- Would you?

And I'd like something to remember you by,

if you were, God forbid, to die.

Of course, darling.

I've always been your greatest,
your best friend and your protector.

- Can I have the house?
- Aw, Pats!

- I was going to give it to Saffy.
- Saffy doesn't want it. She's not here.

- All right, all right.
- Thanks, Eddie.

She's not here, is she?
I've been sitting here all alone!

You're sitting with little wrinkles
on your face and she's not here!

What's the point of grieving
if there's no one to see you?

- You're right, Eddie. You're always right.
- Yes, and I should be there.

- Shouldn't I? He'd want me to be there.
- He'd want you to be there.

He'd want me to be there!

- He'd want you to be there, too.
- I don't think he'd want me to be there.

If you want the house, darling.

He'd want me to be there!

He'd want you there!
Come on, darling.

...Yet to Lord God most holy,
the Lord most mighty.

Holy and most merciful saviour,
deliver us not into the bitter pain...

In sure and certain hope
of the resurrection to eternal life...

She's very upset, you know.

Let's hope someone
fills them in before they get help.

Eddie!