All language subtitles for Carry-On-Convenience-1971-

# Three old ladies locked in the lavatory!

Four matching pairs.

Blue and green washbasins
for Carter's, Aberdeen.

Check.

Two princess suites complete with
stainless steel fittings for Gerling's, London.

- Check.
- Six white, top-flushing urinals.

Stand-up ones?

Is there any other sort?

I only asked. Funny things happen these days.

Six white top-flushing urinals, regular design,
for the YWCA, Wigan.

One matching pair...

The YWCA? Hey, you're right.
Funny things do happen these days.

Well, Miss Withering, how does it feel?
Comfortable?

Yes, I think so, Mr Boggs.

Good, good. Comfort before beauty.
That's what I always say.

It's a bit big in the bowl, I think.

It is only two centimetres more than our last
model, and I'm sure we shan't fall out over that.

It's falling in I'm worried about.

(Sid cackles)

No, no. I like your overall design, Mr Coote.

Oh, thank you, sir.

May I get off now, please?

Of course, Miss Withering.
Thank you. You've been most patient.

Yes. Like Job on a monument.
And what a monument. Ha-ha!

We must make sure the catch
is strong enough to support the seat.

- Do you mind if I try it, WC?
- No, go ahead. Yes, do.

Yes. I don't think I could stand it
for more than half an hour.

It was hardly designed for a reading room.

Look. Look at this.
Very slender, this pedestal, isn't it?

It's streamlined.

What for? Wind resistance? Ha-ha!

In any case, the thickness has nothing
whatsoever to do with the tensile strength.

I hope you're right, Mr Coote.

I have had bitter experience of what happens
when one of these collapses.

Or rather my poor dear wife had. Rest her soul.

I can assure you, sir,
an elephant could safely use that toilet.

Not without a much bigger bowl. (Cackles)

We can't afford to take any chances, Mr Coote.

No. Dependability before beauty, I always say.

Miss Withering, if you wouldn't mind.
Just one more time.

This time, my dear,
come down on it like a ton of bricks! Boom!

So far, so good.

Now, if you'd just bump up and down a bit.

Excellent! Excellent!

Bump! Bump!

Things that go... (Blows raspberry)
...in the night. Ha-ha-ha!

One matching pair of what?

- Beauts.
- One matching pair of...

Eh?

- Hello, Myrt, love.
- Oh, hello, Vic.

How about it this afternoon, then?

Not standing up.

No, sitting down.
I've got these grandstand tickets.

The kickoff's at three o'clock.
It should be a special match.

Three o'clock! Ooh, how can we?
We'll be working till five thirty.

I wouldn't bet on that, if I were you.
And I'll take you out for a bit of supper.

MYRTLE: Ooh!

Hello, Myrtle. Got a cup of tea for me?

Sorry, Bernie. No more floor service.

Eh? What do you mean no more floor service?

New rule. Drinks only to be served
in the canteen during official breaks.

Well, that's what I call taking a diabolical liberty!

And that's something you know all about.

- Ha-ha!
- Do you mind? Do you mind?

Don't you worry.
I won't let them get away with this.

That's all right, Vic.
I didn't really want a cup anyway.

Whether you want one or not is beside the point.

This constitutes an infringement
of the workers' rights.

Uh-oh. Old tinder bottom's off again.
Another bloomin' strike, I suppose.

Oh, no. What's it for?

You know our Vic.
He never has known what it's for.

- Ooh!
- Ha-ha-ha!

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr Boggs.

That's quite all right, Miss Plummer.
I should have sounded my hooter.

There he is. Old silver spoon. At it again.

Oh, give over, Vic.
He can't help being the boss's son.

Privileged class, sitting on his...
That's what he is.

Privileged class? Do you know
what the girls call him? Pencil doings.

That's how privileged he is.

Morning, all.

Morning, Mr Boggs.

I'd er... I'd like to see you for a few moments,
please, Mr Lewis.

All right. Make it quick, Spanner.
I'm already late for a meeting.

It has come to my notice that a new rule has
been introduced without consultation with me,

as a shop steward, to the effect that tea
may no longer be served outside the canteen.

Right. I made it.

Oh. Well, then.
As the union's appointed representative,

I wish to lodge the strongest protest.

It is an infringement of workers' rights.

- Oh, come off it, Spanner.
- I can show you right here.

- What's that?
- The NUCIE rule book.

Oh, I see. They're making rules about that now.

N-U-C-I-E. NUCIE, Mr Lewis. The Nation Union
of Chinaware Industrial Employees.

Oh, I beg your pardon.
You know what you can do with their rule book.

What's that?

Let me give you a clue.

These pages are just about the same size
as our toilet-paper holders.

Now do you get the idea?

Great, big, steaming, public-school nit.

All right, everyone. You all heard him.

Direct aggravation of a genuine grievance.

- Stop work.
- Everybody out!

There you are. What did I tell you?

Meeting in the canteen in ten minutes.
Tell everyone, Bernie.

- Right. Meeting in the canteen... When was it?
- Ten minutes.

- Meeting in ten minutes' time... Where was it?
- In the canteen.

- Meeting in ten minutes' time...
- All right, they know!

Oh, excuse me.

Lewis, my boy. It's all right.

We're just discussing the new
Princess Beatrice suite. Come on in.

Oh, I see.

- There we are.
- Please don't get up, Miss Withering.

But I want to get up, Mr Lewis.

What do you think of it, my boy?
Rather elegant, wouldn't you say?

Yes.

But I thought
we were going to modernise our stuff,

and I thought we were going
to include a bidet in our new range.

Oh, yes. I designed one, but Mr Boggs sat on it.

On the idea, I mean.

I do not think bidets are quite us.

But, Dad, all our competitors are making them.

I dare say, but I didn't think the high cost of
production coupled with the limited demand...

Limited demand? But I told you about
that enquiry from abroad for 1,000 of them.

I know, my boy, but I don't think
that my dear grandfather would have approved

of the name Boggs
being associated with such an article.

Oh, Mr Plummer. Can't you persuade him?

Quite frankly, I don't see the use of 'em.
It's easy enough to wash your feet in the bath.

Bidets are not for washing your feet in.

What else? Are they for dogs to drink out of?

No.

(Whispers)

Get away. Well, if it's for that, then, you can
always stand on your head under the shower.

Lewis. Lewis, my boy.

Shh. Can you hear anything?

No.

- Neither can I.
- Well, that's all right, then.

No, it's not all right. They've stopped work.

(Silence)

I tell you, brothers.

It is time we made a stand.

It is time the bosses learnt
that they can't mess the worker about.

- What do you say?
- Down with 'em!

That's right. Down with 'em.

It is up to us to show the bloated bureaucrats

that they can't grind our faces in the dust.

- What do you say?
- Down with 'em!

That's right. You see, brothers,

this issue isn't just over when
or when not you can have a cuppa.

Oh, no.

This ruling is another blow

- aimed at the fundamental rights of the worker!
- Hear hear!

It's another little prod at the very vitals
of your personal freedom.

I haven't noticed anyone prodding at my vitals.

Good for you, Chloe.

Ready for you any time, Chloe.

- (Laughter)
- Yes. All right, then.

Yes. All right, then. Quiet, please.

Thank you, Mrs Moore.

But I seem to remember that you got very upset

when they banned you women from
wearing trousers. What do you say to that?

Down with 'em!

Cheeky, Bernie.

I didn't mean down with the trousers.

Anyway, brothers, I am now calling for
an immediate stoppage of work,

pending reinstatement of the tea rounds.

Now, then, all those in favour,
raise your right hands.

Count 'em, Bernie.

Are you in favour?

Of course I am, you fool!

Oh, well, er...

Well, that makes two.

Well, that's that.

Mind if we get back to work, then?

Would you wait just one more minute, please?

I would like to make one last appeal
to your reason and common sense.

I'll call for one more vote. And, in doing so,
I would like you all to bear in mind

the fact that the Rovers
are playing at home this afternoon

and the kickoff's at three o'clock.

Right? All those in favour?

Count 'em, Bernie.

There we are.

Trouble.

Well, well, well. Never saw so many people
wanting to leave the room at the same time.

(Laughter)

I have to inform you, Mr Plummer.
It has just been decided by a majority vote

that unless the tea rounds are brought back,
there will be an immediate walkout.

Oh, yes. We're playing at home this afternoon,
aren't we?

- You're not going to let them get away with this?
- Leave it to me, Mr Lewis.

Now, look, Spanner.
Let's be sensible about this.

You know very well that our extra tea rounds
were laid on by the management as a privilege.

So doing away with them
hardly breaks any union rules.

Ah. That's just where you're wrong,
and I quote...

Section M, page 154, paragraph 79b,
treatment of the workers.

"Action may be taken if at any time the
management fails to provide adequate facilities

for catering to the workers' natural needs."

Natural needs?

Drinking is a natural need, is it not?

So's sex, but that doesn't mean
they have to lay on crumpet.

(Squeals of laughter)

Very funny, Mr Plummer. Very funny.

We want to know if you are prepared
to reinstate the tea rounds.

You know very well I can't do that,
but, as works foreman,

I'll see that your complaint is passed on
to the management. All right?

No, I'm afraid not.
We need a more positive guarantee.

- Why don't we talk about it?
- No! I'm damned if we will.

- Mr Lewis, please!
- No. Now, listen to me, all of you.

Oh, blimey.

You may not understand what it means,
but since I've been working in this factory,

I have made a time and motion study.

I know what it means, Mr Lewis. And if you've
got the time, I've certainly got the motion.

And don't think I hadn't noticed it, Mrs Moore.

Especially in your main production department.

Oh, you cheeky devil!

Anyhow,
I'd like to try and show you how it works.

She knows how it works. I promise you.

Mr Lewis, we are evading the issue.

Are we or are we not going to get
what we want?

That's up to Mrs Moore.

I mean on the factory floor!

Not ruddy likely!

All right. That's enough fun.
Now, let's get down to business.

Sounds just like my old man!

All right, all right.

In this factory, 166 extra mugs of tea
are served in the average week.

Now, on the basis that one worker has to make
a trip to the toilet for every pint consumed,

this means that he makes 16 trips in one day.

Poor devil. He must have a weakness.

No, not quite, Mr Hulke.
It means that, allowing for an average time

of four and a half minutes
for each trip to the toilet,

72 minutes are lost in each day.

Which equals 15 hours lost
going to the toilet in one week.

You see?

- So what is the answer?
- Tie a knot in it.

Quite. But a less painful solution, in my opinion,
was simply to cut out the extra tea rounds.

Doesn't that make sense?

Just one moment, please, Mr Lewis.

Am I to understand, then,
that the management want the workers

to stop going to the sh... loo, when they want to?

I didn't say that exactly.

You just want to cut down on the number of trips
they want to make?

Well, yes. That's it. Exactly.

I thought so.
It is a clear case of restrictive practice.

Right into it.

Everybody out!

Fine mess I made of that.

It would have been simpler
to have done what they wanted.

I'm like you. I don't give in easily.

- You'll have to, if you want them back tomorrow.
- Yes, I know.

- Well, it gives us a free afternoon, anyway.
- Yes... Us?

We'll have a run out into the country
and something to eat at a little pub I know.

- Sorry, I'm busy.
- I'll pick you up at the Odeon at half past two.

Lewis, it's no use.

And try not to be late. There's no waiting there.

Ah, Spanner.

Thanks a lot. I thought
we were going to have to work this afternoon.

- Eh?
- Dead worried, I was.

But what about your loss of production?

Who cares? Think of the wages we're saving.

What's up with him, then? He's gone potty.

On the contrary.
I think he's learning some sense at last.

Saving on the wages... Saving on the wages...

What's he on about?

Anyway, are you all right for this afternoon?

Oh, er... no, I don't think so. Thanks, Vic.

I promised to help Mum with a few things.

- What, instead of the football?
- Yeah. Funny girl, aren't I?

Oh, hey. She's gone potty an' all.

Saving on the wages...

Excuse the rush, but I've got a lot to do. Bye.

Lot to do...

I wish I had a lot to do.

Don't we all? Thanks for the lift, Sid.

- All right. See you down the pub tonight?
- I doubt it. The lord and master is home.

- Then you'll have plenty to do.
- You must be joking!

Fred is strictly a Saturday-nighter.

What a shocking waste.

Oh, get you. You never stop, I suppose.

Only to fill my pipe.

(Cackles)

That'll do, saucy.

Oh, hello, Fred.

Sid just gave me a lift home.

- Uh-oh.
- I hope that's all he gave you.

- Fred.
- I thought you were having a canteen lunch.

That little twerp Spanner
organised another walkout.

Another strike? How can I sell our products
if you don't make 'em?

What are you so surprised about?
It's only the 13th this year.

Cor. What's it all about this time?

I suppose you could call it
the take in and put out figures.

Take in and put out figures?

Technically known as the T and P figures.
(Cackles)

Sid!

I'm glad you both find it so very funny.

- Yeah.
- There's always trouble at the works.

We seem to be having it once a week,
as regular as clockwork.

- I thought that's how you liked it.
- Come on, Fred. I'll get you something to eat.

I could do with a bit.

Spoken like a true man.

Come on.

That's all I need.

A face full of sodding knickers.

Eugh.

Nice Joey. Pretty Joey.

Pretty little boy, then.

Nice little boy, then.

Who's a nice little boy?

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello, Mummy. Hello, Mummy. Go on. Say it.

Hello. Mummy.

Look what Mummy's got for him.

Anice little toy.

Anice little toy for a clever little boy.

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

- Ta, Mummy.
- Gorblimey.

Can't you give that poor bleedin' bird a rest?

It's the only way you can get him to talk,
chatting to them.

Chatting, yes. Not nagging him to death.

We've had him nearly a year now.
He really ought to say something.

He would if he could get a word in edgeways.

You've had me for 25 years
and I still have trouble.

If only he'd give a little chirp now and then,
that'd be something.

He really ought to make some sort of noise.

- How about some dinner?
- Oh, no. He's got plenty to eat.

For me. Not for him.

Haven't you had anything, then?

No. Didn't Myrtle tell you
there's another strike on?

She rushed upstairs to wash her hair.
I wondered why she was home lunch time.

- Now you know, don't you?
- Did you hear that, Joey?

All those naughty men are on strike again.

Yes. Naughty men. Naughty men.

- How about something to eat?
- I've had something.

For me! For Pete's sake!

Oh!

Well, I could make you some beans on toast,
I think.

No. Nothing elaborate, thank you.

Mummy's just going to get Daddy some din -dins.

And you'll be all right till I get back?
Will you, then?

Of course he'll be all bloody right.

What do you think he's going to do?
Chuck himself into his drink?

He doesn't like being left alone. It upsets him.

And when he gets upset, he dirties his cage.

She spoils you to budgery.

You know that?

(Crockery smashes)

What do you think your daddy's got
for you today, then?

A honey ring!

Yes!

What have you got to say to that, then? Eh?

Ta, Daddy.

Ta, Daddy.

Come on, mate. You can talk to me.

Ta.

Ta!

My washing's all over the floor in there.

Here, what are you doing to him?

- Nothing.
- Oh, yes, you are.

What's nasty Daddy been doing to him, then?

Nasty Daddy just bought him a honey ring,
that's all.

Are you going to report me to the RSPCA?

Oh. Did the nasty man buy him
a horrid old honey ring?

Dear, oh dear, oh dear.

How do you expect him to talk
if you keep stuffing him up with food?

One lousy honey ring
won't stop him from talking.

If I thought that, I'd have bought you
a crate of 'em years ago.

Oh. Never mind.

Mummy will take the nasty thing away. There.

- That cost me a pint of beer.
(Clang)

- Now look what's happened!
- What? What?

Well, he's done something.

Here. Hold this.

Never mind, Joey.

Mummy will make it nice and clean again.

Yes, she will. Little Joey.

(Fred burps)

He's after you, you know.

Eh? Who?

Sid Plummer.

What?

Oh, Fred, you must be joking.

What do you mean he's after me?

I can tell. You can't be a commercial traveller
without knowing when a bloke's on the make.

I should know.
I mean, I've seen the others at it.

Just because he gives me a lift home?

It's the way he looks at you.

Not that I can blame him.

You ask for it, flashing your legs and... things

- all over the place.
- What?

Well, I mean, look at 'em. Like two
bald-headed convicts trying to burst out of jail.

Fred, you're jealous.

Me? I wouldn't be seen dead
with a couple of things like that.

I mean, of Sid.

Don't you realise he's at a dangerous age?

At that age, a bloke will try almost anything.

Oh, well, thank you very much.

I didn't mean that.

I get very worried about you,
me being away so much.

Fred, do you really think
I'd want to play around with anyone else

when I've got a smashing bloke like you
to play around with?

I... I know women.

When there's no prime beef handy,
they'll make do with any scrag end.

Well, then, you want to make sure that there is
plenty of prime beef when I need it. Don't you?

Steady on. I've just pressed these trousers.

- Take them off, why don't you?
- What, in the middle of the day?

I've got the rest of the day off.

Don't you realise,
there's a time and a place for everything.

Well, if you've got the time, I've got the place.

What, before tea?

(Engine revs)
- Thanks, Bernie. Want to go to the game?

Eh?

- Do you...
- Hello, Mrs Spanner. Are you all right, then?

Stop that bloody row! Shut up!

- What did she say?
- Turn that thing off.

- Eh?
- Turn it off.

Just a minute, I'll turn this off.
Now, what did you say?

(Shouts) Turn...

Turn it off.

- It is off.
- I know it is.

- Do you want a stand ticket for the game?
- Yes, please.

- All right. Pick me up at half past two.
- And, Vic...

I just want to say
that I think you handled the men marvellous.

Oh, yes. Well, er... it's just a natural gift that,
you know, Bernie?

Some men are born
with the qualities of leadership.

I don't agree with what the blokes are saying.

What's that, then?

That you're a miserable little leader.
Size has got nothing to do with it.

I think you'd better get going.

And don't you worry, Vic.

(Engine revs)
- They'll laugh the other side of their faces...

when you're prime minister.

Good for nothing, little sod. Just like
his bloody old father, may he rest in pieces.

Well, well, well.
If it isn't my dear, sweet, old mum.

Don't come slobbering over me. I'm busy.
I'll tell you another thing.

Tell that half-witted giant
if he brings that motorbike round here again,

- I'm going to kick him where it hurts.
- Mum, please.

This is a respectable
and refined neighbourhood.

And don't you bloody well forget it!

How can I,
when you keep reminding me of it so nicely?

Oh, shut up and sit down,

or you'll be late for your work.

Oh, er... We er...

Erm... we don't have to go back this afternoon,
Mum.

Eh? You've started another bloody strike,
haven't you?

Haven't you? You have, haven't you?

The men had a grievance,
and as their appointed representative,

- I could not let them be ground underfoot.
- Crap!

Mum, please. I am working there
for the good of the workers.

You never did a day's work in your life.
You're like your bloody father.

My father was a victim
of the capitalist-ridden society.

Your father was a victim
of the gin -ridden society,

and if I hadn't taken in lodgers,
where would we be now?

I pay my way.

Oh, yes. I forgot about that.

Yes. I've been wondering
what I'd do with your L#4 this week.

Take myself to the Bahamas, perhaps.

If me and my money aren't welcome here...

Oh, sit down on your backside and shut up.

If you spent more time sitting on it and less time
talking through it, we might get somewhere.

Now, we've got to feed the poor, bloody,
hard-working strikers, haven't we?

There you are.

- Cold sausages.
- What?

You're spoiling me, aren't you?
Giving it to me 15 times in one week.

Cooee!

I'm in the dining room, Mr Coote.

Oh, hello.

There you are. Lunch is all ready.

Unless you want to wash your hands first.

I think I can wait until after.
Thank you, Mrs Spanner.

- Good. You sit here, Mr Coote.
- Oh, yes.

I've put a clean napkin in your ring for you.

Ooh! You're much too good to me,
Mrs Spanner.

Not at all. I'm only too glad
to have a real gentleman

in the house, for a change.

Ever since my poor dear husband passed on,
I've missed it, you know?

I'm sure you have.

How's Victor?

All right.

- I've got your favourite today.
- You haven't!

I have. Nice hot steak and kidney pie.

Oh, dear Mrs Spanner.

- You spoil me, you do.
- Not at all.

You really do.

You a nice clean boy again, then?

What's he going to say? Ta, Mummy?

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

Talk about a non-stop performance.

I thought he was going to talk.
His beak opened and closed.

- No.
- Yes.

Fancy that.

A bird opening and closing its beak.
We'll have to write to the newspapers.

Well, it's a start.
Generally, he just sits there doing nothing.

He's a natural mimic. He's copying you.

Say, hello, Mummy. Hello, Mummy.

- Say, hello, Mummy.
- What's all this stuff still left on the table for?

- Are we having an exhibition?
- Do you want me to clear it?

No, no, no. I can manage.

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello. Go on.

Hello, Mummy.

Hello, Joey.

I don't understand it.

Mrs Phillips' bird talked in three months.
Whole sentences.

Mind you, they weren't very nice things it said.

They had to cover it up when the vicar called.

Face it. He's a dead loss.
We should get rid of him.

No. He's company for me.
That was the whole idea of it, wasn't it, Joey?

You'd be company for me, wouldn't you?

It's all right for you.
You go to work and enjoy yourself.

I'm here alone all day.

You'll be alone all night if you don't shut up.

Do you mind? I'm trying to work out my bets.

I wonder if he wants a little mate.

What would he want a little mate for?

Give him something to do.

What?

Well, you know.

No, I don't know.

Birds and fishes have always
been a mystery to me. What do they do?

Don't be silly.

They... bill and coo.

What with?

Well, I don't have to go into details, do I?

Blimey. Males and females all look the same,
don't they?

We can tell what we've got hold of,
but how the hell can they tell?

- Well, we know Joey's a he bird, don't we?
- Cock.

He is! The man in the shop said so.

Cock bird, not "he" bird.

It's all the same thing.

You wouldn't call yourself a cock man,
would you?

Opportunity would be a fine thing.

(Engine revs)

Stop that row and get that thing out of here!

Not so much noise!

(Engine revs)

Not so much noise! My mum's there!

Go on, you great gormless lump!

(Engine roars)

Quite right, Mrs Spanner. It's a disgrace.

You mind your own bloody business.

Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't realise you were here, Mr Coote.

Oh, that's all right...

Agatha.

Has Victor gone?

Yes, Charles. We're all alone now.

Good. How about it, then?

Oh, I don't know.
I really ought to do the dishes first.

Oh, they can wait. Just a quick one.

I do find it very hard to say no to you.

You know you like it just as much as I do.

Very well. I'll draw the curtains.

- Right.
- Yes.

Cut for deal.

(Tyres screech)

- Oh!
- What's the matter? Did you lose something?

Oh, damn near.

Stay there!

Oh, so that's your game, is it?

Bernie, follow that car!

- What car?
- That car! The one with Myrtle in it!

Myrtle who?

- Oh, come on. Get going.
- Right. We're off!

What do you mean, me wasting time?

You never win anything on the horses, do you?

How ignorant can you get?

I've told you. I work it out scientifically.
I study form.

Why don't you win sometimes?

Can I help it if they don't run scientifically?

It doesn't seem right to me, throwing that money
away each day and us going without.

Don't notice you going without anything.

I wouldn't mind, if you could just pick a winner
every now and then.

You reckon you could do better, then?

I couldn't do much worse, could I?

All right. Let's see.

I'll read out the runners in the Newmarket
three o'clock. See if you can pick the winners.

That's silly.
We won't know the winners until this evening.

No, no, no, this is yesterday's racing.

- Oh.
- Here we go.

Anthony Watt. Jolmon. Carbia. Cleopatra.

(Chirps)

Sid, did you hear that?

Yes. His very first chirp. How about that?

Oh. It must have been one of them words
you read out.

- What words?
- One of them horse's names.

Cleopatra?

(Chirps)

- There.
- Yes.

Oh! Does he like that word, then?

- Cleopatra.
- (Chirps)

- Cleopatra.
- (Chirps)

- Cleopatra.
- All right, all right. Don't tire him out.

Oh, Sid. Isn't it exciting?

Yeah. Mind you, it's time he did something else
apart from dropping good luck messages.

- Oh.
- Right. Now, then. Where were we?

We don't have to go any further.

- If that's what Joey liked, I'll pick it.
- Cleopatra?

- (Chirps)
- Yes.

It was a 10-1 shot. It had no chance.

I don't mind. Well, what won?

By three lengths - Cleopatra.

- (Chirps)
- There you are. What did I tell you?

You didn't pick it. The bloomin' bird picked it.

Well, it won, didn't it?

Are you going potty?
Just because he likes the word.

What does he know about horses?

I don't know, but he's done better in one race
than you've done the whole season.

But that's not the point, is it?

You're the one who said you could pick 'em
better than me, so let's see you pick one.

I'll read you the 3:30 runners.

Diddy Ching.

Fast Day Boy.

Golden Gay.

Tiny Tim.

- (Chirps)
- You keep out of this. Now, where was I?

That'll do me. Tiny Tim.

- (Chirps)
- Just cos he chirped again?

Yes. Well, who won?

This is ridiculous. There's no reason to it.

We can't all pick scientifically, can we?

Well, who won?

Tiny Tim.

- (Chirps)
- 4-1.

There you are. You see?

Now, are you satisfied?

Who's a clever boy, then?

- Did he pick the winners for Mummy, then?
- Shut up. Shut up a minute.

- I want to try another one.
- I don't feel like doing any more.

Not you, him. Now, listen, mush.

I'm going to read the runners of the four o'clock.

Now, concentrate. Are you ready?

Right.

The Woozer.

X-Ray. Double Dwelling.

- I'll see you.
- Two pairs.

Oh, dear. You've beaten me again.

I knew this was going to be my lucky day.

- Now, no looking.
- Oh.

Hello, Mrs Spragg. It's got very cold, innit?

Not surprising.

(Front door closes)

- I thought I heard the front door.
- So did I.

Victor!
What are you doing without your trousers on?

Well, you can talk, I must say.

Eh? What? Oh! Argh!

Polar Prince.

Silver Plate.

- Pollyanna.
- (Chirps)

Well, did it?

Yes. He's picked the winner
of every single race yesterday.

He must have seen the results in the paper.

That's it... What are you talking about?
He can't read, can he?

Well, how do you know?
You didn't even know how they made love.

He's getting information somewhere.

Where are you getting it? Come on, talk. Talk!

Oh, don't be silly. You know he can't talk.

You're quite right.
Big, fat, beady-eyed, useless lump.

Don't talk to him like that.
And what do you mean useless?

He's picked all the winners this afternoon.

After they'd run.

Fat lot of good that is.
If he could pick 'em before they...

I wonder. What's the time?

- Half past three.
- I can be at the betting shop by half past four.

Now, listen, genius. Listen to me.

Who's a nice fella, then?
Who's a big, handsome, clever lad?

What are you going to do to him?

Shut up a minute. I'm going to read you
the runners of the 4:30 at Kempton today.

Now, relax. Think carefully.

Winners only. Here we go.

Family Steps.

Petticoat.

Peewit The Third.

(Chirps)

Peewit The Third?

(Chirps)

He's never even been placed.
You must be out of your tiny mind!

(Clang)
- Oh! Now look what you've done!

You made him dirty his cage again.

- I'm not surprised. Peewit The Third.
- (Chirps)

All right. I'll do it.

But I'm warning you, mate.
If you're wrong, I'll wring your bloody neck.

Oh, don't worry.

Mummy will wring Daddy's bloody neck.

It's all right. I'll go.

- Oh, hello.
- Excuse me, Mr Coote.

Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt your dressing.

That's all right.
I was just having a game of cards.

- Oh, yeah. I see.
- Would you care to have a game?

Not just now, thank you.
I'm hardly dressed for it, am I?

Oh-ho! We'll soon get those off you.

No, thank you. Actually, I've come to see Vic.

Oh, there he is.

Well, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to it.

I thought I might find you back here.

Er... here's your trousers.

Oh, thanks a lot.

Oh. They'll be very useful, they will,
in case my legs ever have a row and split up.

It wasn't my fault. You told me to follow that car.

- All right. All right. Did you?
- What?

Follow the car.

- Oh, yeah. I stuck to 'em like a limpet.
- Where did they go?

They just drove around,
then went into a cinema.

Right, come on.

Good. If we hurry,
we can make the second half of the game.

- We are not going to the football!
- Oh.

NARRATOR: ...activities of the Koo Koo
islanders. There's no sight quite so thrilling

as to watch them
preparing their evening meal.

Is this the wonderfully interesting film
you heard about?

No, it's the one after this.

Women are busily engaged in
peeling vegetables and cutting up the meat.

To do this, they use knives
and other kitchen implements.

Let us watch their nimble fingers at work
for a few moments.

A spectacle few White people
have been privileged to witness.

- Blimey. How much more of this?
- Why don't you stop moaning?

Oh, that's choice, that is.

It was bad enough missing the football

without spending six bob to come and watch
a bunch of idiots making an Irish stew.

And that is where we must bid a reluctant
farewell to Koo Koo Island.

He's got his arm round her now!

- Who?
- Lewis, of course.

ANNOUNCER: The film you are about to see
was refused a certificate

by the British Board of Film Censors,

but has been granted a showing
by the local council.

That sounds more like it.

I am a well-known and practising doctor.

In the artistic and beautiful picture,
which now follows,

you will see naked men and women
engaged in the various arts of sexual love.

This is by no means intended to shock,

but purely and frankly
to demonstrate that the sexual act,

far from being something to be afraid of,

is, in fact, a great joy and pleasure,
which can, and indeed should,

be enjoyed by everyone.

First, let us familiarise ourselves with
the component parts of this, the male body.

And this, the female body.

God, you don't miss a trick, do you?

Cor.

No, wait, Myrtle, please.

Come on, Bernie.

- Come on. They're leaving.
- Eh?

- Come on.
- Oh, no. Not now.

No.

Let us look at the number of different ways
in which we can bring the two together.

Move. Come on.

Oh, no.

(Clang)

ANNOUNCER: That's the line-up
for the last race at Doncaster. Tote prices follow.

And here is the result of the 4:30 at Kempton.
First, Peewit The Third.

He did it! Hey, Benny.

Pound each way, 10-1.

Finally got yourself a good win, eh, Sidney?

Congratulations.

(Cackles)

(Whispers) They've finished eating.

I'm glad to hear that.
That makes me feel a lot better.

What's the matter with you?

Cor, stone me. You drag me away from the
football match. You drag me out of the cinema.

You drag me 20 miles into the country
to watch them stuff themselves

and then you ask what's the matter.

You didn't have to come out with me.

No, and I can't wait not to come out
with you tomorrow, either.

Listen, I'm not going to stand by
and watch that nit having it away with Myrtle.

Why not? It's better than watching them eating.

Look, I honestly didn't know
it was going to be that sort of a film.

What a day.

All it needs is for Dad to walk in now
to make everything perfect.

Oh, for heaven's sake.
What's he got against me, anyway?

Plenty, apart from the fact
that you're the boss's son.

Is that so terrible?

You should hear him on that subject.

Oh, charming. But what makes him think
I want to marry you?

Oh, he doesn't. On the contrary.
He had you weighed up from the start.

"I know all about blokes like young Mr Lewis."

- Oh, listen, Myrtle...
- Yes?

Oh. Erm... another couple of those, please.

I mean these, please.

If I were you, I'd have stuck to your first request.

I fancy the fella with the ears.

BERNIE: Cor, did you see that waitress?

I've never seen anything like that before.
Do you think that was all real?

Of course. It's the only qualifications
you need for the job. Big prospects.

That's nothing.
In some places, they're completely topless.

Cor, nothing?

Not a stitch.

- I bet that's tricky when they serve soup.
- It's a bit dodgy when they fry chips.

If I say I'm sorry about the film,
sorry for being the boss's son,

and sorry for having such a lousy reputation,
could we start again?

And sorry for being on the make all the time
with me?

From now, just good friends.

I'll drink to that.

How about a dance? Is that within the rules?

Yeah.
Provided there's no dirty work in the clinches.

Aye aye. He's got her on the floor now.

What? In front of everybody?

- I'm sorry. Lewis!
- Oh, hello, Roger.

- I'm sorry I was put out today when you called.
- That's all right.

It's all OK. You can use the old flat tonight.

(Roger chuckles)

You bastard!

Wait, Myrtle, please.

(Screams)

Thank you, Joey.

Funny, but I don't seem to have seen anything
of young Mr Lewis since we've been back.

- Have you, Bern?
- No. Well, he's away. That's what you told me.

That was a couple of weeks ago, wasn't it?

I just wondered whether he'd left us
for any reason. Have you heard anything, Myrt?

I couldn't care less what's happened to him.

- Ha-ha-ha! You dropped me in it there.
- You didn't say it was a secret.

- Hello.
- Hello, Sid.

Sitting down on the job again?

Mr Plummer, I know my job. Nothing in the rule
book says I cannot do it in a seated position.

I'll bet you say that to all the girls.

Mr Plummer, if you want to bring
a specific charge against me...

No, no, no. Sit down. Enjoy yourself.
Relax. Go slow. Work to rule, if you like.

There you are. Have a smoke as well.

I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Fred.
Come on.

BOGGS: Come in.

Hello, Dad.

Lewis, my boy. I didn't know you were back.

We've got it. The Middle East contract.
Show him, Mr Moore.

If I may say so, Mr Boggs, it was done in the
face of very stiff competition. Very stiff indeed.

Signed by His Highness,
King Frauzi of Aslam himself.

Really? Another crowned head
to add to our clientele. Excellent.

- What's it for?
- Bidets.

Bidets!

Yes. 1,000 of them.

1,000 bidets!

One for each of his wives.
There mustn't be any favouritism, sir.

Are you mad?

- We do not make bidets.
- It's high time we started. You sign that.

I will not have my firm associated with
the manufacture of such a dubious article.

Dad, we cannot afford to turn it down.
It's worth L#19,000.

I don't...

19,000.

That's an awful lot of money. And payment?

On completion of the order in two months' time.

Two months!

Yes. That was the only snag.

They have to have them in time
for the feast of Abanibble, sir.

Abanibble?

That's right. When it's His Highness's custom
to visit each of his wives in turn.

It only happens once a year.

I'm not surprised to hear it.

But we couldn't possibly complete this order
in two months. We haven't even got a design.

Yes, we have. Mr Coote did one months ago.
Now, come on, Dad. Sign.

Oh, very well. I can't help feeling
I'm going into something I shall regret.

You're looking very well this morning,
Mrs Moore.

Thank you, Doctor.
Can I get dressed again now?

- Yes. While I put my eyes back in.
- Another new suit?

I had a bit of luck on the gee-gees.

- Again? You'll have to give me some tips.
- I've got a good one for you.

Don't bend over in a tight skirt. Ha-ha!

Saucy.

Refused you a bridging loan
for a measly 1,500? I don't believe it.

I'm afraid it's true. I hadn't wanted to bother you
with our financial problems,

but the bank has been carrying us
for some years.

- And now they're dropping us?
- It seems so.

- We'll just have to get out of that contract.
- Excuse me, WC. How much do you need?

- I should think 1,000 would do.
- Is that all? 1,000.

Don't bother with banks. I can let you have that.

- You can, Mr Plummer?
- I haven't got it with me, but I can get it.

Let's see. We've got an hour
till the last race at Cheltenham.

- Last race at Cheltenham?
- That's right.

I'll have to move fast. I've got to see a bird first.

A bird at Cheltenham?

You promised me you'd limit it to two bets
a week, so he didn't overstrain himself.

Don't argue.

- Read out the runners.
- All right.

But don't blame me if nothing happens.

I'm sorry about this.
It's nothing to do with me, Joey.

I'm not the greedy one.

All right? Here we go, then.

4:30 at Cheltenham.

Bob.

Girlie.

Hard-To-Get.

Order Form.

Proper Charlie.

Sweet Sue.

(Chirps)

That's the one.

What's the betting?

- 18-1.
- That'll do.

18-1 on Sweet Sue.

L#56 win bet.

That's exactly L#1,026.

That's just what I make it, Benny.

Just what he makes it.
Pints of blood, I'm giving.

You'll get it all back.

What good is getting it back
if I've had a heart attack from paying it out?

I'm sorry. You know I don't like doing this.

You don't like doing this. I don't like doing this.
So why do we go on suffering this way?

Just because I've had a bit of luck for a change.

For a change, he says! For a change!

Have a look at this.
It's all in black and white in the ledger.

In the last three weeks,
11 winning bets you've had.

L#2,433!

You have taken from me!

I tell you what I'll do.
Tomorrow I'll come in here and I'll bet the lot...

- No, no, no. No more, Sid. It's finished.
- Finished?

From now on, there's a limit on you. L#5!

What do you mean?
What kind of a sportsman are you?

What's with the sportsman?
If I was a sportsman, I'd be riding the horses.

Ah, Mr Coote. I'd like you
to show my father your bidet design.

By all means, Mr Lewis. I have it right here.

Yes, yes... if anyone has any use for
this sort of thing. Any idea of the cost?

Well, after basic outlay
on a new mould and so on, about L#7 each.

How about that, Dad? On this contract,
that could be worth over 100% profit.

He's hit on this marvellous labour-saving idea.
Tell him, Mr Coote.

It's quite simple. Instead of the conventional
arrangement of separate hot and cold taps,

and waste control tap,

the whole thing could be done
by one simple control. Thus...

Hot, cold,

down the hole.

Drop everything!

Cut the switches!

(Machinery stops humming)

Oh, blimey. Now what's happened?

Excuse me.

(All argue at once)

All right! All right! All right! What's the hold-up?

(All argue)

- One at a time.
- I'm sorry, Mr Plummer.

- These men cannot put this fitting onto those.
- Why not?

I stand to be corrected,
but I think I'm right in stating

this is a combined tap and waste-pipe control.

- That's right. What about it?
- Whose job is it to fit it?

- What are you talking about? Ernie can do it.
- Of course I can, Sid.

Oh, no, because Ernie is a tap fitter.

Willie can do it, then.

Oh, no, because Willie, as you well know,
is a waste-pipe fitter.

Right. They can both do it.

No. If a tap fitter does it,
he's doing a waste-pipe fitter's job.

If a waste-pipe fitter does it,
he's doing a tap fitter's job.

- Does it matter, as long as they're working?
- That's what I was saying.

If you'll pardon me, you don't have a say.
This is union business.

- It is our union, innit?
- Exactly. And you'll do as it bloody tells you.

- Listen, under a redundancy agreement...
- All right, we know all about that.

But we're not making anybody redundant.

These men are doing their own jobs
and each other's jobs in the same time.

All right, Mr Spanner. What's your solution?

It's not the union's job to give solutions.

You can say that again.

Just to show I'm not trying to make difficulties,

if you was to scrap this fitting
and make two separate fittings...

Impossible. That basin was made for that fitting.

That's typical. Isn't that typical? I offer a solution
and they start making difficulties.

Hang on. I've got it.
Suppose they work together?

Ernie puts the fitting in the hole, connects it
to the pipe, then Willie connects it to the outlet.

You're missing the point. You've still got two
men doing two men's jobs in the same time.

Which is the same as one man
doing one man's job in half the time.

- What's wrong with that?
- If every worker did his job in half the time,

the country would be in a right old mess.

Bernie.

Wait a minute. You can't bring 'em out.

Until I acquaint the union general secretary
with all the facts, you leave me no alternative.

Everybody out!

Come on, brothers. Keep the line moving.

Messrs Wade, Ceramics Limited.

Dear sirs, with reference
to our meeting last January,

when you expressed an interest
in taking over this business,

I must now advise you

that I am in a position
to consider a favourable offer.

- In the mean...
- (Gasps) No...

- I beg your pardon, Miss Withering.
- I'm sorry, Mr Boggs, but I can't let you give up.

I've no alternative.
Two weeks of this strike has finished us.

What is to become of me?
I've given my whole life to Boggs.

Oh, naturally, I shall arrange that you be
taken over with the firm.

But I don't want to be taken over.

I just want to carry on with you.

Of course, I do appreciate your loyalty, my dear.

No, you don't. That's the trouble.
You never have appreciated me.

- What?
- I've worked for you for 30 years.

And in all that time,
have you ever sat me on your knee,

or asked me to go away
for a naughty weekend? No!

Really, Miss Withering!

- You've never even pinched my bottom!
- Ooh!

I am not in the habit of interfering
with other people's seating arrangements.

If you don't mind,
we'll continue with the dictation.

Oh, damn the dictation!
I don't care what you think of me any more,

but I'm not going to stand by and watch you
throw everything away like this!

Miss Withering, you're pressing on my keys!

Then, William, fight back.
I'll be at your side. I'll work for nothing.

We can do it, William.
I'm sure we can do it together.

I don't want us to do it together.

You've borne all this too long, William.
You've lost confidence.

All you need is a good prod.

Oh! I assure you,
that is the very last thing I need.

Lean on me, my dear. Take strength from me.
Together we'll see it through.

BOGGS: Ooh-ooh!

Ooh!

Blimey, talk about the power game.

Oh!

(Cackles)

Dad, I'm sorry we barged in on you like that.

I had no idea you and Miss Withering were...

We weren't and, what's more, we never have.

It's just that she was upset,
worried about her future.

After all, she's not getting any younger.

She's not getting any.

Yes. Well...
Did you have any luck with the union?

None. The Industrial Relations Committee's
come back from Rio all right,

but the Action Committee's gone off to Russia.

Well, I suppose that's that.

Why are there no pickets on the gate?
It's after nine.

BOGGS: They're probably on strike.

Dad, look.

BOGGS: I can't believe it.

- They're coming back.
- I had a feeling they would today.

- Why today?
- It's the annual works outing.

Yeah... Oh.

Well, I suppose we'd better get ready,
Mr Plummer.

- Ready? For what?
- Dad, you're not going with them.

- Yes, I am, my boy.
- But why?

Because I have suddenly decided,
after all these years,

that what I've been missing
is a right good booze-up!

No Fred, then?

No. He's off on another sales trip.

(Tuts) What a pity. Today of all days.

I know. I spent half the night
trying to talk him into having it off.

I wouldn't have needed any persuading.

I bet.

You've got nothing to worry about.

- I shall be very happy to look after you today.
- Oh, ta.

That'll be nice, won't it, Maud?
Mr Plummer's offered to look after us today.

Oh, that'll be lovely, Mr Plummer.

Pleasure.

I was just saying to Chloe,
it's not much fun without a man.

You should know.

BOTH: Ooh!

You've never done it before?

No. Have you?

- Oh, loads of times.
- What's it like?

Well, my mate Vic arranges it all.

See, we get to Brighton about 12 o'clock

and then we have this slap-up meal,
serviettes an' all.

What do we do after?

Well, we can do anything once we're there.

We can go on the pier. Eat winkles.
Throw stones in the water.

To be frank, Mr Coote, I've never tried it.

Really, Miss Withering?
Well, you've certainly missed something.

- I'm always ready to learn.
- Oh. Well...

Er... it's a bit difficult to show you here,
but I can tell you how it's played.

First of all, you deal out five cards
to each person, you see.

You know...

I can't think why I didn't notice you
at the factory before.

The day I got taken on, they all went on strike.

You're lucky.
I had to work three weeks before I got one.

I'm on my own today, you know.

So I gathered, yes.

It's the best way. Why lumber yourself
with a bird going down to Brighton?

- It's like taking coals to Newcastle, innit?
- If you say so.

Oh, yes. The place is full of spare.
The last time we went, we had to fight them off.

- Like flies, they were.
- Well, some people attract them, don't they?

Just like dustbins.

Er, yeah. Yeah. I suppose so.

Look, if you're going to be on your own as well,
I wouldn't mind showing you around.

Oh, thanks all the same, but I don't think
you ought to disappoint all those poor flies.

(Car horn honks)

Of course,
I'd love to spend the day with you, Vic.

- Would you?
- Yeah.

Oh, well, that's all right, then, innit? Eh?

Come on, boys and girls. This is where
we're supposed to have lunch. Follow me.

Lunch time!

Good morning.

Ah, good morning, brother.
We are the Boggs & Son's outing.

Oh, yes, and I'm sorry to tell you this,
but I'm afraid we can't do you lunch.

Oh, no. I'm starving.

What? But I booked it... six weeks ago.

Yes, I know and I'm sorry, but
our entire restaurant staff has gone on strike.

Gone on strike? Well, they can't do that.

Listen who's talking.

The bar's open and there are cold snacks,
but that's the best we can offer you.

Well, that just isn't good enough.
Who do they think they are?

They're just a bunch of downtrodden workers,

being exploited
by an unscrupulous management.

You should know that.

What does it matter? A drink will do me.

Hear hear. Cheer up, everybody.
The drinks are on me.

This way, sir, please.

Don't you worry.
I won't let them get away with this.

They are taking the bread out of
the poor workers' mouths.

- There's nothing we can do about it, Vic.
- No.

Of course there is. I am not going to be pushed
around by a bunch of ruddy anarchists!

And I'm going to tell 'em. Come on.

Ah. Hey, you.

What's all this about you lot being on strike?

That's right, mate. We are.

What about it, then?

Tell him, Bernie.

You're taking the bread
out of the poor workers' mouths.

You don't say.

You're just a bunch of ruddy anarchists.

Really? Who says so?

He does.

There you are, Mr Spanner.
Just in time for your drink.

- Same again all round, please, barman.
- Ah, there you are, Vic.

Well, we certainly told him, didn't we?

# She'll be coming round the mountain
when she comes

# She'll be coming round the mountain
when she comes

# She'll be coming round the mountain...

- Myrtle, listen to me.
- Will you go away and stop bothering me?

- No, I damn well won't.
- Now, then. Now, then.

You heard what Myrt said. So buzz off.

If you don't get out of the way,
I'll knock your head off.

Yes?

Yes.

Bernie.

- Now, now, Mr Lewis, we don't want no trouble.
- No? Who's going to stop it, then?

Me, if I have to.

All right. Go on, then. Go on. Try it, then! Try it!

All right, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Now you've really done it.

Oh, for God's sake.

# Singing aye aye yippee, yippee aye...

Gosh, I am sorry, Vic. Are you all right?

# Singing aye aye yippee, aye aye yippee

# Aye aye yippee, yippee aye!

Oh, splendid! Splendid! Let's have more drinks!

Oh, no! Come on. Let's go for a walk.

There's a smashing front here.

- There's a smashing one there an' all.
- (Squeals) Saucy!

I know! I know!
Let's all go on the pier and have a winkle.

You can have one here, just through that door.

Oh! Ha-ha! No, let's go on the pier.

VIC: Come on, man. Come on.

Look. The hall of mirrors.

We have a lot of conferences down here.

There's nothing to it. I'll show you.

It looks quite easy. Let's all have a go.

Hey! Hey! Watch it!

One in my pipe.

(Crashing and clattering)

Come on, then. (Cackles)

Skinheads!

BOGGS: Ha-ha-ha! That showed him.

Ah!

- There's something I want to have a go at.
- Come on, then.

Hold it. Hold it. Perfectly still.
I'm going to take it...

now!

BERNIE: How was that?

VIC: Beautiful, Bern, beautiful

Come on, Vic. Let's have a go on the mat.

What? In front of everybody?

Oh, you mean the helter-skelter.

Yeah, come on.

Hey, Bernie! We're going on the helter-skelter.

Come along, now. You've had enough.
You've got to have something to eat.

Now, one moment!

There was a young fellow called Reg,
who went with a girl in a hedge.

When along came his wife,
with a big carving knife,

and cut off his meat and two veg.

(Hysterical laughter)

Yahoo!

Whoo!

Yahoo!

Whoo!

Oh, Vic, darling,

I've not had so much fun in all my life.

Thanks.

Ah! Whoo!

BERNIE: We are the champions!

Oh, what was that digging in me?

It was only my camera.

Mr Boggs, I've found a fortune-teller.
Shall we try it?

Fortune-teller, certainly not!
Waste of money! Fakes, that's all they are!

- Sitting, looking at their crystal... whatsitsname?
- Balls.

I quite agree. Absolutely ridiculous.

I don't mind having a go. I love them.

You do? Come on, then. Let's have a bash.

Never mind, Miss Withering.
Have a cockle. Much better for you.

Oh, do you think I ought to?

I mean, I've heard that shellfish
do very strange things... in a sex way, I mean.

Really? Ooh, let's watch 'em for a bit, then.

Anybody home?

Look. Gone to lunch, back in the near future.

The foreseeable future, I hope. Ha-ha!

- We'll come back later.
- Wait a minute.

I've got an idea. Hang on.

But I don't want my fortune told!
I already told you! I don't believe in it!

You will, this one, Mr Boggs.
She's marvellous. Go on. Be a sport.

- Oh, all right, then.
- Go on, then. In you go.

Oh!

Excuse me, dear. Customers.

- I know. I saw you coming.
- I beg your pardon?

In the ball. Ah, yes. You are indeed
in need of help. Please be seated.

Oh, thank you. Come along, dear.

Now, then, do you wish me to prognosticate?

Oh, please do. We'll wait. Ha-ha-ha!

Please, I must have absolute silence
to establish contact.

(Chuckles mockingly)

Shh.

Ah. The mists are clearing.

I see a picture forming.

All around you are strange-looking objects.

White and shining.

Tell me, do lavatories play a big part in your life?

What? Why... yes.

They do, as a matter of fact.

I thought so. You are a cloakroom attendant.

Certainly not. I manufacture them.

I have a factory.

I see a picture appearing.

The factory is about to stop and fall into ruin.

- Oh, no!
- Unless...

Unless what?

There is a woman who loves you.

Her name begins with...

...W.

Is it Widdling?

Withering. Miss Withering.

Withering. That's it.

Your affinities will be closely entwined.

Don't be disgusting.

I see...

a marriage.

And one, two, three... 14 children.

Oh, no!

Oh, no!

- No!
- William. Come back.

William!

(Cackles)

Not bad.

- Do you want to do me now?
- Not half. Let me get these things off first.

Ooh!

William!

William, come back!

William!

(Ghost train siren)

Excuse me.

(Ghost train siren drowns out speech)

(Screaming)

Hey! Switch it off! Switch it off! My girl's in there!

Let me go!

Let me go!

No. Not until you listen to what I've got to say.

Oh!

- Now, do you see this?
- No, I don't.

What is it, anyway?

It's a special marriage licence.

What?

A special marriage licence, my darling.

Now, do we use it or do I tear it up?

Oh.

Lewis.

Darling.

Here. You leave her alone.

Do you hear?

Put her down!

Oh, no. Excuse me a minute, darling.

(Punches thud)
- Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Blimey, they're supposed to be here at 6:30.
Where do you think they've got to?

Search me.
What do you suppose happened to old Myrtle?

I don't know and what's more, I don't care.

Ooh! What's this coming, then?

(Laughter)

BOGGS: Oh, naughty.
SID: Come on, then, ladies. Off you come.

BOGGS: Come on!

(Drunken laughter and whooping)

(Tyres screech)

(Gushing and trickling)

(Hiccups)

Looks like Fred's not home yet. No car.

No, he said he probably wouldn't be home
till tomorrow night.

Oh. It's a shame, innit?

Looks like Beattie's asleep.

- Good.
- Eh?

I mean, erm... good for her.

Chloe. Oh, blimey, Chloe.

Yes, Sid?

Nothing.

I think we ought to go to bed. Our beds, I mean.

Yeah, I suppose so.

I would have liked to ask you in for a cup of tea.

- You would?
- But you know how the neighbours talk.

Yes, that's true.

And I suppose you couldn't come in with
me at this time without someone seeing us.

I suppose not.

Not that we'd be... doing
what they might think we'd be doing.

Oh, no. No. Of course not.

But, of course, if Fred did get to hear about it...

Yes, that's quite right.

Not worth it, really. Not just for a cup of tea.

Oh, well.

Good night, Sid.

Night. Sleep tight.

Tight is the word.

Bloody neighbours.

(Snores gently)

Mr Boggs. Tea.

(Snores gently)

WC. Tea.

Thank you.

Very nice...

Miss Withering. What are you doing here?

This is my room, Mr Boggs.

Oh, I see.

What?

Then what am I doing here?

Well, I'm afraid you were in no fit state
to look after yourself,

- so I had two of the men bring you up here.
- Oh, well.

That was very thoughtful...
Oh. I beg your pardon.

I didn't realise they'd undressed me as well.

They didn't.

You mean you...

Don't worry.
I know what a man looks like, you know.

And you're not all that much different.

Miss Withering, erm...

Yes?

Did we get off... Did I get off?
Straight to sleep, I mean.

Don't you remember, William?

No, I don't.

Then that is something
we shall always be wondering about.

Isn't it?

(She giggles)

Charles!

(Shouts) Charles!

Oh, hello.

Get up and come inside at once.

(Sniffs)

You've been drinking, haven't you?

Well, you see, Agatha,
I had some rather bad news.

I don't give a damn,
and I may as well tell you, Charles Coote,

that I married one drunk
and I'm damned if I'm going to marry another.

That was the bad news, Agatha.

You see, I'm afraid we won't be able
to get married now.

What do you mean?
What are you talking about?

Because Mr Boggs is going to close down
the works and that means I shall be out of a job.

Close down the works, why?

Because of the strike.

I knew it.

It's that little sod Victor's fault.

He's at the back of all this.
But I'll tell you something.

I'm not going to let that little swine
mess up my bloody life.

All right, brothers,
we have got to keep a full picket line today.

Cos I have heard that some of the men
want to come back to work.

- Oh, do they?
- If they want to, how are we going to stop 'em?

Force!

Whatever happens, we have got to stand firm!

Can I have the cricket bat?
I don't know how to play tennis.

(Phone rings)

All right, William, I'll take it.

Thank you, Miss Withering.

- Now, William.
- Oh, I beg your pardon. Hortense.

That's better.

Boggs & Son.

Mr Boggs' personal secretary speaking.

Oh, it's you, Mr Lewis. Yes, he's here.

Hello, Lewis, my boy.
I apologise for not getting home last night.

Yes, I got laid up... erm held up.

That's funny. I was going to say the same to you.

No, no. There's nothing wrong. Far from it.

The fact is, I got married.

Married?

Yes, that's right. To Myrtle. Myrtle Plummer.

Does her father know? That'll be a surprise.

I know it's a surprise, but I had to marry her.

No, no, no. I mean it was the only way.

No, we booked into a hotel. We've been driving
all night, you see, and we want to get to bed.

At long last he said, under his breath.

You can say that again.

No, not you, Dad. I was speaking to Myrtle.

Do you mind if I don't come back to work
for a few days?

Not at all, my boy. Take all the time you want.

I've decided to take up Moore's offer
for the firm, anyway.

Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd...

You've what?

You can't do that, Dad!

(Line goes dead)

Oh, no. No.

I've got to stop him.

Well, here I am at long last, darling.

Get dressed as quickly as you can.

- What?
- We've got to get back. I'll explain later.

- Something important's come up.
- But won't it keep?

Oh, I do hope it will.

Excuse me, WC.
Have you seen my daughter this morning?

Your daughter, Mr Plummer, no.

She left Brighton with your bloomin' son
and she hasn't been home all night!

I wouldn't worry about that, Mr Plummer.

Your daughter Myrtle has always commanded
great admiration and respect

and I'm sure Lewis will see that she gets it.

That's what I'm afraid of.
Listen to me, WC.

- (Distant shouting)
- What's that?

Let's go and see.

SID: Hello.

Looks like a showdown.

- (Angry shouting)
- Now, listen!

We are on official strike, pending confirmation.

So, until then, there will be no return to work!

What's the point in our going on with the strike
if it means Boggs has to close down?

That is neither here nor there, brother.

So why don't you...
go home and stop making trouble.

Us making trouble?

All we want to do is an honest day's work.

All we want to do is... All we want...

Listen, brother, bolshie talk like that
got this country in the mess it's in today.

Now, listen, fellas,
the last thing that we want is any violence.

So at the first sign of anything, don't argue.

Don't get involved.

Bash 'em!

- Oh, well, we might as well go home again.
- (Muttering)

That's it, then. I don't reckon
we'll have any more trouble now.

I don't know about that. Just look at this lot.

Blimey. My old woman's there.

LADS: And mine.

- Stop!
- Mum? What are you doing here?

I've come to knock some common sense
into that moth-eaten brain of yours.

Please, Mum, not in front of everyone.

Ah, now you're ashamed.
And so you should be.

Now, then. Shift your arse out of the way
and let these good people in to do their work!

I must warn you ladies
that this strike is quite legitimate.

That's more than they say about you.

I must ask you all to disperse peacefully.

Disperse, crap. Now, are you going to get out
of the way, or do I have to make you?

We must stand firm on our principles.

Oh, yeah?

It is the democratic right of every worker
to do whatever he likes.

- We must stand firm...
- Ah, shut up!

- It is a democratic...
- Shut up! Give me that, you little squirt!

- Mum, please!
- Go on! Come here!

Now, then.
This is what I should have done years ago!

Mum! Ow! Ow!

Ow! Mum!

Oh, Mum! Ow!

Will somebody open those damned gates?

Thank you, ladies.

Sorry about that row, Mr Boggs,
but we thought you might need a little help.

We'd like to come back to work, if that's all right.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate
this moving gesture.

Such a wonderful display of loyalty.

Cut the cackle and let's get on with the work.

Well done, Beattie.
All right, you can go home now.

But I thought I'd stay on for a bit, Sidney.
Make a change for me.

- Stay on?
- Yeah.

Oh, all right, then. Come on.

Come on!

Oh, brothers! Brothers, you're not going to let
a bunch of women tell you what to do, are you?

Don't they always?

Oh, no! Don't let's give in like this, brothers!

Be firm! Be firm! Make a stand!
Has it all been for nothing?

There are alternatives, you know!

Bernie, don't just stand there. Do something!

Well, I don't know about you blokes,
but I'm not going to let any woman take my job.

Now, then, come on. Let's get back to work.

All right, then! All right, then!
Go back to work! See if I care!

Don't expect me to join you! Nothing on earth
would get me back in that place!

Nothing on earth, I tell you!

Excuse me,
but they sent me from the exchange.

I'm the new canteen girl.
Can you tell me where I go?

Oh, yes. I was just going in myself.
I'll show you where it is.

Yes, we've got a lovely pair of canteens here.

And a nice lot of people.
You'll like them. They're very nice.

LEWIS: What's going on?

Ooh!

Chloe, about last night, you know,
when you asked me in for a cup of tea.

What about it, Sid?

I'd like you to know that I wanted it badly.

The tea, I mean.

It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?

No, no. There must be another chance, surely?

Next year maybe?

Even sooner perhaps.

Hello, Beattie.

- Getting on all right, then?
- Oh, yes. Lovely.

I've been thinking,
I think I'll take a permanent job here.

You'll what?

Well, it seems much more sensible
than sitting at home talking to a silly bird all day.

Well, I don't know.
There's no harm in talking to a bird, really.

Oh, well, you should know.

Here you are, dear.

And anyway,
I could come on the outings with you, couldn't I?

Yes. That's right.

What do you want?

Well, I'm still employed here, aren't I?
That is unless you want to fire me.

- Supposing I did?
- That would be victimisation.

- Oh, no, you don't. Go on. Get working.
- Right.

But I want it clearly understood,
I'm only doing so under protest.

Knickers!

(Toilet flushes)

- Better now, Maudie?
- Oh!

Oh, Mr Plummer! Oh! Ha-ha-ha!

Myrtle, where the hell have you been?

Now, now, Dad.
Before you sound off, it's all right.

- We're married.
- Married?

That's right. Mr Plummer.
I hope you don't object, Dad.

Dad! Don't object? My daughter marries
into management, you ask me if I object?

Of course I object!

But that's absurd. You're management yourself.

How dare you insult me like that!
I'm works foreman and don't you forget it!

- Didn't my dad tell you, then?
- Tell me what?

In return for all the financial help you gave him,
he's having you made a director.

- Director?
- Yes.

Oh, no! No! I'm a worker!

I don't want to sit on my big fat...

Come on, Lewis. I think we'd better go.

I'll kill that bloody budgie!

Here, Vic. There's no paper in that loo.

What was that, Bern?

I just said there's no paper in that toilet again.

Well, well, well. There's a situation.

- Bernie.
- Yeah?

- Don't just stand there.
- Right, I know.

Nip out and buy a couple of rolls.

Hey, hey. Good lad.

Come on, you lot. Don't hang about.

Carry on working.

Captioned by Grantman Brown