All language subtitles for breeders.s01e05.webrip.x264-xlf.en

- He's been off his food for days.
- Hmm.

This cage stinks. Is that shit or death?

Poke him.

- You poke him!
- Mm...

- Oh.
- Ugh.

We could try CPR.

Apparently,
you do it to "Staying Alive."

It's like... ♪ Ah, ah, ah, ah,
staying alive, staying alive ♪

With a tiny gerbil-sized heart?

Don't think so,
it's gotta be something quicker

like the "Benny Hill" theme.

No... he's gone.

I'm calling it. Sprout's dead.

Oh, shit.

How are you gonna tell the kids?

- Me?
- Yeah.

Oh.

I told you to take the key!

Okay, kids deposited

at the indoctrination center,
breakfast bought.

I'm making myself
indispensable, aren't I?

- No.
- Okay.

Artisan sourdough,
only they have no idea

how to make real sourdough.

Terrible coffee they
think is great coffee,

and what they call Danish pastries,

which have zero to do with
actual Danish pastries.

- Yummy.
- All this for only £15,000!

Uh, Ally, I'm gonna stick
Sprout in the freezer

till we decide what to do with him.

The gerbil's dead, Michael.

That would also be my diagnosis.

You should replace him
before Luke and Ava get home.

No way! They need to learn

about life and death
and saying good-bye.

It's what we did with Frank.

Ally's fish.

There must have been
at least five Franks.

He was a different size every time.

Any luck with finding a place
to live, Michael?

Oh, yeah, loads of leads.

Just a ton of possibilities
bubbling away, really.

- He's never gonna leave, is he?
- Christ, no.

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Can I go home now?

The doctors and nurses need to check

a few things first, but you're so...

Hey, you two. Hey, kids.

- Don't turn the telly off, Paul.
- Paul?

Daddy's got something to tell you.

Right.

Uh, listen, s-sometimes...

When you get very old or very ill,

your body just sort of...

shuts down, you know, like a...

- A computer.
- Hmm.

No, more final.

- Uh, like a coal mine.
- Thank you.

Sprout... died,

I'm afraid.

He's dead.

Oh.

No, it's okay.

Sprout's gone, but he's part
of the universe now.

But Mrs. Fisher says
the universe is huge.

How will we find him?

Oh, look, mate,
if the old gerbils don't die,

then the new ones can't come
through, can they?

It's like the circle of life.

You've seen "The Lion King."

But Sprout was only two.

I know, but that's, like, Grandpa's age,

- isn't it, in gerbil years.
- Yes!

Kids. Sprout's not really dead.

- That's not helpful.
- He sort of is dead.

Luke, can you see Sprout in your mind?

- I think I can.
- Yeah.

Ava, can you hear him drinking
from his little water bottle?

- Yes.
- Do you love Sprout?

Will you remember him forever?

- Yeah.
- Then he's not dead.

He just lives inside you now,
that's all.

Is that true, Paul?

Uh, yeah, in a... in a way.

This is because you call
your dad Michael, you know,

all this Paul bollocks.

I just have to run out
for about half an hour.

- Take a key.
- Yeah.

- You okay?
- Mm...

Well, that's not really teaching
them about death, is it?

Telling them the
gerbil's not really dead?

They seem fine.

I guess that's what religion is, right?

Heaven and that shit?

I'm sort of glad Sprout's dead.

Oh, fuck me, yeah. The smell.

Having to have him looked
after when we went away.

And gerbils don't give affection.

They're just little
eating and shitting tubes.

- We mustn't get another one.
- Hell, no.

Hey, Sprout 2.0,
you're gonna be a surprise

for a couple of really nice kids.

Oh, shit!

I didn't see him, right?

He just stepped out. I didn't see him.

Get your phone out.
Get your phone out quickly.

Um, can you... can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

♪ Whether you're a brother
or whether you're a mother ♪

♪ Staying alive, staying alive ♪

♪ Ha, ha, ha, ha,
staying alive, staying alive ♪

Telly off! Dinner's on the table!

Okay, coming!

I told you to take a key,
you mad old wanker!

Oh, God, I'm so sorry.

I thought you were someone else.

Does a Mr. Michael Grant live here?

What has he done?

Is it all right if I come in?

Yeah.

He doesn't, like, actually,
like, really live here.

He's just staying here temporarily.

Is Mr. Grant a relative, a friend?

He's my father, my dad, but I don't...

I don't call him Dad.
I call him Michael.

He's dead, isn't he?

I'm sorry, yes.

Mr. Grant was involved in a collision.

I'm so sorry.

Are you...

Are you absolutely sure that he's dead?

Because he was alive, like, an hour ago.

Efforts were made to revive him,

but unfortunately,
he was pronounced dead

at the scene of the accident.

- Where was he?
- On Church Street.

We believe he'd just made a purchase

from the Alpha Pet Store, a gerbil.

Ha!

Is it safe?

We don't have it.

Is there someone I can call,
a friend maybe?

Do you have people out looking for him,

for the... for the gerbil?

Because they can't survive in the wild

like foxes and stuff.

Perhaps you have a
partner I can contact?

No, I... Oh, no, I'm fine, I'm fine.

My boyfriend is gonna be back soon.

He's just gone out to get some booze,

because we've had a bit
of a day of deaths, actually.

- Oh, I'm very sorry.
- No.

Um, do you want some pasta?
I've made some pasta.

It's vegan, but... oh, shit, no.

I put cheese... I put cheese in it.

Hey, remember what
we talked about before,

when Sprout passed on?

And eventually, you were very brave.

Well... this afternoon,

Granddad Michael,
you know, Mummy's daddy,

he left us.

He died.

He's dead.

Which is obviously very sad.

Have you got any questions?

No, Paul, I haven't.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

- Yes, Paul.
- But you're not sad?

No, because Michael said
when people die,

they live inside of you.

- Mm-hmm.
- So he's not really dead.

He is, though.

What about if I died?

I think you would live inside us too.

Well, that's probably quite a nice way

of looking at it, actually.

Can you stop me and Ava from dying?

Oh, mate.

I would do everything humanly possible

to keep you and Ava safe,
you know I would.

But, truth is, eventually, everyone...

Hey, hey, hey,
there's no need to be sad.

Listen, listen, mate,
that's not gonna happen

for a long, long, long time.

Hey, haven't you...
You must have known that.

Luke, oh, Christ. I'm sorry, I didn't...

Oh, right... excuse me, darling.

Hey.

Um, I'm just gonna call Mum.

- Is everything okay?
- Uh, yeah, no...

Luke's just upset about your dad.

Aww.

It seems he was really important

to both of them, but I've got this.

Don't worry. You go and call Leah.

- Oh, thank you, darling.
- All right.

All right.

Whoo, well, don't you two look fancy?

We found them in
Grandpa Michael's suitcase.

I found a scarf,
and Ava found a bracelet.

- Look.
- Take that off.

- No.
- Just let her wear it, Mum.

She can't, it's a cock ring.

Oh, my God. Come here.

- No, I want to keep it!
- I gave it to your father.

I can't believe he
kept it all these years.

It's quite touching, actually.

Ava's wearing Dad's
cock ring as a bracelet.

- Well, there's a thing.
- Mm.

I wasn't expecting
to feel this emotional

about the big shit's death.

- Paul's going to identify his body.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, I think I should, as his widow.

- Widow?
- We never divorced.

So technically,
I am still Mrs. Big Shit.

Actually, sorry, can you stop
calling him that, please?

No. He was a big shit in life,

and he's a big shit in death.

Well, I think Michael
should be identified

by someone who doesn't
think he was a big shit.

Good luck finding that person.

Actually, Leah, that person is me.

'Cause even though he may
have had shitty qualities,

he wasn't as much of a twat

as, admittedly, he first appeared to be,

and the kids liked him, so, Leah,

I'd like you to stop referring
to Ally's father as a big shit.

Fine. Sorry, Paul.

Well, it's not me
you need to apologize to.

Sorry, Michael.

No, no, your daughter.

Apologize to Ally.

Sorry, Ally.

Okay.

I'll see you soon.

Hey, thank you for saying that to Mum.

It's all right.

Hurry back, because
I'm strangely very, very horny.

Mm.

Blimey.

Oh, glad to catch you, Paul.

I'm objecting to the
sheltered housing scheme,

and I wondered if you'd
like to object separately.

Can't talk now, Carl,
sorry, I'm just off

to identify my father-in-law's
dead body.

Oh, God, no. I'm so sorry, I...

Don't look at that.

- Grief can be a strange beast.
- Yes.

I'm gonna...

Come on. You can't do this to me.

I don't even know
what your dad looks like.

I'm really sorry. I can't leave.

I'm trying to make a good
impression on Darren.

Hang on, I'm supposed to be making

a good impression on your dad.

Look, it was your idea to meet him,
it'll be fine.

You'll probably get
on like a house on fire.

Okay, fine, fine.

You'll hear about it later, I guess.

- Love you.
- Yeah, love you, bye.

Fuck's sake.

Uh, looks like she's not gonna make it,

so do you want to put a pin in this

until we can actually
get together with Ally?

Yeah, yeah. Well...

been very pleasant almost meeting you.

- Yeah, you too, Michael.
- Yeah, oh, uh...

I've got this, it's fine.

Yeah, I think I'll head out to somewhere

- a little more Turkish.
- Ah.

You're welcome to join me, Liam.

It's Paul, and you're good, thanks.

Oh, sorry, Christ.

You know, Liam was
this dull-witted knuckle-dick.

I hated him.

You know,
I have got time for a quick one.

- Do you? Good.
- Yeah.

Ooh.

Mm.

I just want you to know
that I'll look after Ally.

Probably better than you ever did.

Sorry, that was below the belt,
in the circumstances.

Anyway, just, uh... yeah.

I want to thank you for having
such an amazing daughter.

You have a rest, mate.

Mm... just...

Hello.

Hi. Was it awful?

The policewoman said
it takes strength, but...

Aww.

It happened again.

I laughed when I told my
cousins about Michael being...

- Dead?
- Ha!

Oh, my God. Am I going mad?

No, it's a bereavement thing.

It's paradoxical laughter.

Thank you for being
so brave and so strong

and so sexy.

Come here.

Wait, we can have
that Bolognese tomorrow.

- No, no, I'll make another one.
- No, we're out of garlic.

I'll use the granules.
I prefer them anyway.

- No, this is wrong.
- No, this isn't wrong.

This is all kinds of right.

Come with me tonight on
the train to Ipswich.

Yes!

She's here, thank God.
I am so, so sorry.

Oh, no, it's fine.

- No, it's fine, it's fine.
- You didn't have to come in, really.

You stay away as long as you need to.

I mean, it's chaos without you.

I'm joking, we can cope. Sort of.

You go home, take all the time you need,

but before you do, could you see

if you can mix the strings
high enough to make the moan

- less powerfully erotic?
- Sure.

Yes!

You're bloody incredible.

I haven't even done anything yet.

I'm talking about your dad passing.

Stupid word.

Dying.

When Ma died, I was a soggy mess.

Went to a grief specialist.
I can give you her number.

She's this fantastic,
full-bodied older lady.

She held me in her fleshy arms

and rocked me like a baby
for 45 incredible minutes.

- Wrong.
- Yeah, I'm not sure

that's quite my thing.

- Ipswich.
- Oh, no, no, it wasn't sexual.

- No, brilliant.
- Don't contain the grief.

Let it bleed through your pores.

- Darren, I'm just trying to...
- Purge yourself of it.

- Flush it through...
- Darren!

Darren, I'm fine. It's all fine.

I barely knew Michael.

I mean, you know, I'm sad he's dead,

but there are more
important things to me.

Kids. Paul. My job.

I hear you, yeah, and Dolby 5.1.

I'm not sure you do, but thanks.

I admire and respect your strength

and positive agency so, so much.

Cool.

Come with me tonight on
the train to Ipswich.

Yes!

Literally everything you're
doing is turning me on.

I've never had sex like that before,
not even in our sex heyday.

Last night, it was... It was dirty.

Was it okay to...

I mean, even all right
to do what we did?

- It seemed a bit modern.
- It was great sex, Paul.

It was better than cocaine sex.

Well, we've never had cocaine sex.

- No, but...
- Have you had cocaine sex?

Just a little bit,
but that was the best.

- Right.
- Hey, talk admin to me.

Tell me how organized you are.

Go on! Do it. It'll work.

Okay, uh, I had to play hardball

- with Michael's solicitor.
- Mm.

- Because his will states...
- Mm-hmm.

That his corpse should be...
Not corpse, not corpse,

his body should go, sorry,
to medical science.

And there's to be no funeral,
so this... fucking hell.

- You can do it.
- To be no, um... poems.

Okay.

No songs. No people dressed in black.

I'm going to kiss you now.

Are you sure I'm not taking
advantage of your grief?

- Oh, I'm not grieving. Get busy.
- Uh-huh.

Paul.

Oh, Paul.

Paul!

Paul?

Christ, I wish he still called me Dad.

What's grief sex when it's at home?

I've never heard of it.

Yeah, but you'd never
heard of soya milk.

If grief sex was a thing,

every funeral would be a gangbang,

and I've been to a
lot of funerals lately,

and let me tell you,
that's simply not the case.

Is Ally okay with all this?

Oh, yeah, she started it,

and it's the best sex
we've had for years,

but it feels wrong somehow,
exploitative of both of us.

Bereavement's a mad fucking ride, Paul.

It's tough to stay sane.

Promise me you won't have
grief sex when I die.

Why not? I mean, I won't, but why not?

I don't want you two going at
it like shipwrecked sailors

while I'm barely cold in the ground.

In fact, can you abstain,
out of respect,

for, say, a month?

My dying wish.

Shouldn't your dying wish be

me looking after Mum or something?

No, she'll go first.

High cholesterol.

- I know you.
- You don't know me.

I know you're not like me.

If I'd been in your situation tonight,

I would have run away
immediately, thought,

"I don't need this
meet-the-patriarch shit."

- Ooh, the poison fairy has come.
- Thank you.

- Cheers.
- It's only gonna go to waste.

Fucking hell.

Notes of corduroy, very nice.

Ooh!

Um, you want to dine and dash?

- We do a runner?
- Yeah.

I'm not doing a fucking runner!

Aww! Oh, you're one of those, oh.

- Oh, Jesus, really?
- Come on.

I know you got a spine in there.

Just bring it on out.

There's a whole world out
there waiting for you.

Plunge through it, come on.

Listen, if you're daring me
to do it, then I'll do it.

All right, I'm daring you to do it.

You want me to do a runner?

Done. Fucking done.

Right, okay. On my... thing.

- Your thing?
- Okay.

Okay, ready?

Okay, three, two, one.

- Fuck!
- Don't you run!

Shit!

Hey!

Fucking... oh.

Oh, man, that was incredible.

- It was exciting.
- Yeah.

I feel alive.

That was... this is the real me.

Always on my toes. Nimble.

- No, it isn't.
- Mm.

The real you is the
exact opposite of that.

No, it's not.

Tell me you're not gonna go back

to that place tomorrow and pay them.

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna do that.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Treat her well.

Don't be another me.

Hey, you all right?

Give her a kiss from me.

And I apologize for my breath.

- It's so lovely and peaceful.
- It's too peaceful.

Luke hasn't done his smoke alarm
and perimeter checks yet.

Mm.

Oh.

- Sweetheart.
- I miss Sprout.

I used to tell him all my secrets.

Baby, I'm so sorry.

Was he a very good listener?

He was.

I-I can't really feel him inside of me.

I lied.

He's always there,
even if you can't feel him.

You know, I think we need to bury Sprout

so we can all have a proper good-bye.

Sprout's been in the
freezer long enough.

Sprout is in the freezer?

Shh, there, there.

Does anyone want to say a few words?

Sprout was my friend, my best friend.

He liked eating.

He, um, uh...

I don't know what to say.

Sprout had a, uh, zest for life.

He was an adventurous little soul.

You didn't see him much,
but it was always reassuring

to know that he was somewhere
there under the hay.

Not that he ever
really was "there" there.

I mean, he let me down all the time.

Where was he when I graduated?

When I gave birth to Luke,

he was up a fucking
coconut tree in Oman.

Oh... God, he could be selfish

and erratic...

and mad and lazy.

But he was him, he was just...

He was Sprout.

The egotistical

and magical, infuriating,

charismatic,

sweet, lovely...

... gerbil.

And we're gonna miss him.

Hey, come on.

It's all right, darling. It's all right.

- Can we go home now?
- Sense the tone.

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