All language subtitles for Bridget And Eamon s03e05 The Census.eng

(lively music)

- Pam, what's wrong?

- I'm leaving.

- You mean you want to leave Southfork?

- I have to.

(sighing)

- All right, I understand.

We'll find another place to live.

- No, you don't understand, Bobby.

I want to leave... alone.

- Without me, Pam?

Without the kids?

- No, Bobby.

Without you, but the kids come with me.

Jesus no, they're doing everything,

but I am leaving.

Poor Eamon.

He'll be devastated.

Hopefully.

(energetic synth pop music)

(phone rings)

- Mark Keating, never heard of him.

What kind of questions?

Go on.

Red, like my father and
his father before him.

No one around here drinks white lemonade.

They do up in Dublin, all right,

because they're all divorced or finaglers.

- I'm leaving!

- Actually, hold on I tell a lie.

I went out with a girl once.

She drank white lemonade.

What was her name now?

Maureen, Maureen.

What was Maureen's first name?

Mental Maureen, yeah.

She is, she's give it
back to you in pieces.

- I'm leaving Southfork!

I mean, this shit hole.

- I didn't mind the
white lemonade drinking

or the mental issues because
she had a fantastic pair of-

- I'm leaving you, Bobby!

Eamon.

Yes, I'm leaving you 'cause
I have a fancy new job.

I have a job of my own.

I'm going to be independently wealthy.

That and you're a bastard,
so take one last look at me.

Go on, look at me, Eamon.

Look at me!

'Cause you'll never,
ever, ever, ever, ever

see me again.

(door slams)

- Tits.

(dial tone)

Hello?

Hello?

(knocking at door)

- Hello, Eamon.

Are you the occupier of this house?

- What are you doing?

- I'm doing my job.

I'm a census numerator.

I have to count up all
the people in the country

and probably do lunch
afterwards with my boss.

(squeals)

- So, you're leaving me
forever and ever and ever

doing the census which
happens once every four years.

You'll be out of a job
in a month, you thick.

(Bridget scoffs)

- You'd know all about
things finishing early,

wouldn't you Eamon?

I'm referring to your
attempts at relations, Eamon.

- I don't care.

- Name?

- Eamon.

- How much money do you earn in a year?

- 5,000 pounds a year.

- 5,000!

- Yeah, 5,000 pounds a year

and a Christmas bonus that I drink.

I don't have the wealth of the Irish.

- Since you're being really
honest and it's the law

when Maureen bent over
to pick up the collection

last week at mass did you look at her ass?

- I did, yeah.

- Okay, Eamon.

I'll just put you down for bastard, okay?

- Yeah, fine with me.

(Bridget sighs)

- I have this weird feeling.

I don't know what it is.

I think it's called a
sense of achievement.

(energetic pop music)

- Hello, Bridget.

You must be our new census.

Exciting.

- Hello, I'm your numerator.

What's your name?

- Well, you know my name Bridget.

- Bridget?

- Oh no, it's not Bridget, Bridget.

It's Concepta.

- Well, which is is it, Concepta?

Is it Concepta or Bridget, Bridget?

- Concepta.

- Lovely and how many people
are residing in this household?

- Well, it's just myself and
Seanie and the kids, so 23.

- And, have you ever had an affair?

- What's that got to do with the census?

- This is official state business!

If you fail to answer truthfully

it will result in imprisonment!

- No, never.

- Know anybody in the
town who's had an affair?

- Dolores did.

- With who?

- I don't know!

I don't know!

I swear that's the truth.

Oh please, don't hurt me Bridget, please!

I swear I've told you everything I know.

Please!

- Okay, bye Concepta.

- [Concepta] Bye, Bridget.

- Love the new porch.

It's so Dynasty.

- And, well done.

And, you're very good with
your clipboard, you're ghastly.

- Who is he?

- Don't do this, Bridget, please.

- Prison it is, so.

You see my paper and
numerator badge, don't you?

- Tadgh?

- Tadgh?

Jesus Christ, Dolores,
what would you thinking?

You weren't, I suppose.

- Look, it was a strange time for me.

We had nearly missed out for qualification

in the 1982 World Cup in Spain

on goal deference to the French.

I was disappointed!

And Tadgh, well he pounced on
me after a few baby champs.

God knows what I'd do if we ever qualify

for a major international
football tournament.

- That will never happen.

How come I'm the last person to know

what's going around in this town?

- Nobody likes you, Bridget.

- Does Theresa know?

- You'll have to ask Tadgh that.

- Okay, I'll pop around there now.

Tadgh.

What are you doing here?

- I called over to borrow Dolores' fanny.

I mean, pocket calculator.

- I'm just gonna put you down
for conniving sluts, okay?

- Thanks, Bridget.

- I suppose you're going to gossip

the living shit out of this now!

- All I can say is that
would be an absolute

nailed down certainty, unless...

- What do you mean?

- Information, loose tongue talk, gossip.

- Okay.

You know Jerry Glafferty
who owns the petrol station?

Well.

(energetic pop music)

- Well, well, well.

(Eamon belches)

Look who it is with
her tail firmly planted

between her legs.

I'm not angry with you,
Bridget, just disappointed.

Really disappointed.

You said you were running
away for good this time,

and look at you.

It's only what?

6:00, and you're back already.

- These pork chops are only
three weeks out of date,

and I'm starving after
working all day at my job!

- Busy day at work.

Look at all this shit you bring home.

Why don't you bring home something useful

like some hot 27 year old work colleague

I can make an awkward pass at?

- Don't touch my files.

They're my files for work!

Don't touch them.

Don't touch them, stop it.

- Ow!

- Don't touch my files!

Don't.
- I'm not touching them.

- Don't!

Don't, don't, I will
burn you Eamon, don't.

Stop!

- I'm touching your files
with my willy, Bridget.

Look, here I am now.

- Stop it Eamon!

- That job has gone to your head anyway.

The state doesn't need to know
all this shit about people.

- My filing system, I
have it all divided up.

Look, this file right
here are all the women

who want to get their
hair done once a month,

and this file right
here are all the people

getting children's
allowance with fake kids.

- As I said, useless, boring, shit.

- Not to me, Eamon.

Not to me.

You know, Jerry Glafferty
who owns the petrol station

has a file right here.

Well, I heard from Dolores
he was out last Wednesday

mowing his lawn in the rain
after a doctor's appointment

then spent 25 minutes at the post office!

God, it's fairly obvious
what's going on there.

- What?

- He's having an affair.

- You got all that from this shit?

- All the information,
Eamon, is right here.

Anything you'll ever need
to know about the town

is right here in our house.

Everything we ever need
to know about anyone.

- Shut up, shut up!

I think you're actually doing
something brilliant, Bridget.

- I know.

- By accident, of course.

You're still a massive pain in the hole,

an itchy pain in the hole.

You know when you've got a horrific itch,

and you're trying to get into it.

Even your fingers aren't enough.

You're bending over,
everything, but it's not enough,

so you take the-

- Okay, Eamon!

- I think it's time to
go pay Jerry Glafferty

who owns the petrol station a visit.

Shall we?

Right now.

- Right now?

- Right now.

- Okay.

Do you want a pork chop?

- What part of right now is not clear?

- You should have said now now.

Now now, let's go.

- Now now.

I'm not the deer hunter, Bridget.

Right now means right now.

- Okay, now.

Now now.

- [Eamon] Right now.

- It's not right now, it's now now.

(synth pop music)

- I see the arm hasn't grown back yet,

Jerry Glafferty who
owns the petrol station.

(Jerry laughs)

- No, you see, I thought that inflammable

meant that the petrol couldn't catch fire,

but it turns out that
inflammable is just the same

as flammable only worse.

So, what can I do you for?

- Petrol.

- Oh yeah, the usual three
pounds of regular, huh?

- No, I filled her up with four star.

- What?

Jesus.

I've never seen you
fill your car up before.

There must be what?

15 pounds, 16 in there?

- 17 pounds and eight pence.

- Josie, we're closing up early!

- Give us two Wham Bars there,

and I'll take two packages of cup of soup

cream of vegetable flavor.

- With croutons.

- With croutons.

So, you might as well give me
two Turkish delights there.

- We might not need to open again

for the rest of the week at this stage.

- And, four packs of your
high charged cigarettes.

- Josie!

Tell the young lad we'll
buy him the other shoe,

and then put your coat on.

We're going into town, get a bite to eat.

We'll get drunk, and we'll
just see what happens!

You know, this might be
the right things now.

This might be perfect for us,

get the old marriage back on track.

Great, that's 20 pounds
on the buzzer, lads.

- See, that's what I wanted
to talk to you about,

Jerry Glafferty who
owns the petrol station.

We have some information.

Would you know a

- Edna O'Brien from the town over?

- Josie!

Take the coat off.

Not the Wham Bars as well.

- We'll back up the car.

(energetic pop music)

(fizzing)

- You know, a man can never have enough

tires, chalk based indigestion tablets,

and RT guides.

- Oh, I'll never have
to buy fags ever again.

This is great.

Eamon, what's wrong?

- I already hate my place.

We have to start making real money,

and looking at this-

- Pyramid?

- Article in the RT guide on
how to bribe your neighbors

and get away with it successfully.

I think I might know how.

(knocking at door)

- We've had enough of
you two bribing the town.

This stops now.

- Oh, really?

And, how?

- I have information on
you two that will not only

cease your shake down shenanigans,

but will put page to
Bridget and Eamon forever.

- Oh, really?

I'm shaking in my boots.

Actually your boots, the ones
you got handmade in Italy.

- You've pushed me to it.

Bridget, Eamon, you're related!

(gasping)

(lively dramatic music)

Did you hear what I just
said Bridget and Eamon?

You two are related.

- Yeah, we know.

- I'm Eamon's third cousin.

- I'm Bridget's second
cousin once removed.

- Well, how about we use
that information against you,

see how you like it?

- I'm sure everybody knows that already.

We were the front cover
couple of the church leaflet

"Can You Marry Your Cousin, open bracket,

"Even If Your Shrinking Gene Pool

"Threatens The Long Term Survival

"of the Human Race, close bracket."

Short answer, yes.

- Bridget got it framed.

(birds chirp)

- Sure, isn't everybody
around here related.

Isn't Grainne her husband's second cousin?

- And, I met my Willy at a family funeral.

Get this.

His father's wife is my mother.

What are the chances?

People are saying we are so alike

we could be brother and sister.

- I'll just put you down
for possible incest,

okay Dolores?

- Thank you, Bridget.

- Well, we're still not happy about you

blackmailing us all with
our information we gave you

thinking it was for the census,

so we're going to tear you apart

with these garden instruments
and then burn your house down.

- [All] Yeah!

- Wait, no one's killing anybody
until you hear me out first

unless you want to go with Bridget.

- We'll wait.

Speak.

- Lads, lads, lads, lads.

It's the 1980's.

What one thing do we have in Ireland now

that we didn't have before?

- Sandwich toasters.

- Apart from sandwich toasters.

- Lingerie.

- Apart from sandwich
toasters and lingerie.

- Racism.

- Apart from sandwich toasters
and lingerie and racism.

(all whispering)

- Flare trousers?

Oh wait, they're more 70's.

We don't know, we don't know.

Give us a clue!

- Okay.

- [Father] Two words.

Sounds like...

- Market research.

(speaks gibberish)

- No, market research.

(speaks gibberish)

- No, market research.

- Oh, I know.

Parking near church.

- The answer is market research.

- What are you trying to say here, Eamon?

- See, earlier I got a phone call.

Market research?

So, you make money by just asking people

questions on the phone?

How much money are we talking about here?

Seriously?

- So, you're gonna take all
our personal information

and sell it for money?

- Not just your information,
but everybody in the town,

and the town over, and maybe, just maybe,

the town over from the town over.

You see, maybe I'm being greedy,

but greed for want of
a better word is good.

And, I don't want to bother my hole

having to collect all
that information myself,

so I'm gonna get you lads to do it for me.

- So, greed is good?

I get it.

- It's catchy.

- Makes complete sense to me.

I'm in.

And, I've nothing better to do.

- Wait a minute, everyone.

Is Willy short for William?

I think I might have married a Protestant.

(synth pop music)

- What's going on?

Why aren't you on the phone?

- Only eight houses in
the town have a phone,

and we've rang them all.

- We need more numbers, Bridget.

(Bridget groans)

- Fine!

Here you go, here you go,
here you go, here you go.

Let's go team!

(rain pours)

Well?

- The numbers are no good, Bridget.

- The numbers are fine.

- I think you made the numbers up.

- And?

- Look at this one.

555 123 456789.

These aren't phone numbers, Bridget!

- That's the number for Bobby
Ewing's office in Dallas!

- It doesn't work, Bridget.

All you get is (imitates beeping)

- We need better numbers!

- The noses get nosier, and
the not noses get less nosier

as the old saying goes.

- Okay.

Listen up, you morons.

Hey, you!

Put the Lilt down.

Lilt is only for nosers.

- What?

- Like It Like That aka Lilt

with its totally tropical
taste is for nosers only.

Now put it down.

Now, listen up you bunch
of chicken cluckers,

the prize for the most amount
of information this month

is this.

A picture of a brand new car.

Wouldn't that look nice
hanging on your wall at home

to prove to your children you're
not a big bunch of losers?

Second prize is this.

A picture of a secondhand
set of steak knives.

The third prize is this.

(all gasp)

The sack.

- Sorry, do we actually get that sack?

- I wouldn't mind winning that sack.

It'd be very handy for
putting the coal into.

- Yeah, I lost my old
sack, so I prefer that

to the picture of the
car or the steak knives.

- No, third prize is the sack.

- Yeah, but did you get the
sack in Nolan's Hardware

because if you did it's
probably worth more

than the two pictures?

- God, that'd be fierce handy
for my special underwear.

Can I have that sack?

- I'm going to come third
on purpose just to get it.

- No!
- Not if I get it first.

(all chattering)

- Shut up about the sack!

No one gets the sack!

It's a metaphor for losing your job.

If you come third, you get fired.

(snapping)

What?

- But, do we get the sack?

- I don't care if you get it or not.

You won't have a job, Frank.

So, what is the point?

What?

- Just to clarify, we would get the sack?

- Jesus Christ, Grainne.

Wouldn't a job be more valuable?

Are any of you getting this?

- It's just the sack is
the most valuable item!

It should be first prize!

(Frank snaps)

- I swear to god, Frank.

If this is a picture about
the sack I will kill you

with my bare hands.

- How are you gonna do that?

- He could suffocate him.

- He could use the sack.

- Shut up about the sack!

- It's a question about the numbers then.

- What?

- Are the numbers in the sack?

- All you need to know is this!

A, always, B, be, N, nosy.

Always be nosy.

That's all you need to know.

- We can be as nosy as we
like, but the numbers are weak.

- The numbers aren't weak.

You're weak!

Do you see this watch?

This watch costs more money than your car.

I'm not wearing a watch.

Jesus Christ woman, bring in the numbers.

- This is the only phone book.

We had to do some
dangerously disgusting things

to get our hands on it.

Let's just say I'm delighted
Bridget is double jointed,

and I am well hung.

- The things we had to
do for these numbers.

- Shut up, Bridget!

Jesus, all I can see is the tin opener

and Martin Wheeler's face again.

Now get to work, you bunch
of pox-ridden heifers!

I want information.

- You heard him.

Get on the fucking phones!

Phone, there's only one,

or get in a queue to get on the phone.

- It's the third highest
company at the top!

(all cheering)

I don't want to know if
he's a cross dresser or not.

Oh, for fuck's sake!

(synth pop music)

I want some information!

I want to find stuff out!

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

- Do you know how much money we can make?

- Yes, yes!

- Send in the biggies.

(squeals)

Well, rub my tummy and call me fat.

(all cheering)

- Oh, that's a good name.

(Frank snores)

- Who owns that phone?

- Eamon does.

- Here's the bill.

- 148 pounds and 27 pence?

Where am I gonna get that kind of money?

And, what are the IRA doing here?

- Steady on, Eamon.

There's no terrorist organization here.

Isn't that right, Martin?

For example, Papa Smurf is a Smurf,

but he's not in the Smurfs.

- No Jimmy, Papa Smurf is
definitely in the Smurfs.

- No, he's not.

- Well, I suppose it's like

Scrappy Doo and Scooby Doo, isn't it?

- Yes, it is.

- Perfect, Martin yeah
because when you think of it

Scooby Doo is in the Mystery Gang,

but Scrappy Doo isn't in the Mystery Gang,

but yet they're the same really, you know?

Perfect, Martin.

- No!

My analogy was clearer.

Right, listen.

We're doing some work for Telecom here

to collect non-paid bills and debts,

and right now you owe them IE
us 148 pounds and 27 pence,

and if you don't pay by tomorrow

we're gonna disconnect you,
take all your property,

and I'll be giving you a good
swift kick in the bollocks.

- Jesus.

That last part there
was totally unnecessary.

- No, it's here in the
terms and conditions.

"If you do not pay on time
we will disconnect you,

"take all your property,
and you will receive

"a kick in the bollocks."

(laughs)

Nobody ever reads the small print.

It's gas, isn't it?

It's gas.

I mean, the terms and
conditions, people agree to them,

but they don't read them.

Do you know what I mean?

They don't read and then they agree.

What's all that about?

Do you know what I mean?

What's going on?

- Classic.

That's comedy gold.

- You better have our
money by tomorrow, or else.

- Well, you just pay them the money.

- What money?

- The money from all the
information we've gathered.

- You were supposed to
sell it to companies.

- What companies?

- Marketing companies.

- What did you think was going to happen?

- Just thought they'd
post us out the money.

- Who would post you money?

- Dublin business types.

Lads who drive big cars
and have affairs with women

who look after themselves.

- Oh, Christ.

And, after passing on a job
in the new DeLorean factory.

I am gonna regret that
for the rest of my life.

- All that work for nothing!

- Surely someone's gonna
buy the information.

Father, what about the church?

- Oh no, Bridget.

That's what confession is for.

- We have a plan, don't worry.

- So, the less we know the better, Eamon.

- If we had information,
sure, we'd have to act on it.

- What about that whole any information

please contact the Garda?

- Yeah, don't do that now.

That's a pain in the hole.

- We missed all Ireland filing one year

because we had to act on information.

- I mean, she could have
been killed by anyone.

Eyewitness accounts are pin the goalies.

- We have a filing
cabinet for information.

(laughs)

- Yeah, we call it the bin.

(both laughing)

- Oh lads, no.

No lads, no.

Please, please, lads, no.

Please, lads.

Don't take it, take one of the kids.

I saw you on Garda patrol.

- Finally.

My wages from my job doing the census.

148 pounds and 27 pence exactly.

- Now I'm gonna give you a
swift kick in the bollocks.

Martin.

- Wait, wait, wait!

I'll count you in.

Three, two.

- Bridget.

- One!

(Eamon grunts)

Now Jeremy, give me back my telly.

Here's 148 pounds and 27 pence.

- Bridget, if you're ever thinking

about becoming a Smurfette,
I'd say there'd be an opening.

Not that it's something to do with me.

As we agreed earlier, Papa
Smurf is not in the Smurfs.

- He is a Smurf!

- I'm not denying he's a Smurf.

I'm just saying he's not in the Smurfs,

you know what I mean?

His pants are red, Eamon.

All the Smurfs wear white pants.

- He's the leader of the Smurfs.

- He might make high level decisions

on behalf of the Smurfs,

but he's not the leader of the Smurfs.

- Would Scrappy Doo be in the Smurfs?

- Martin, will you kick him in
the bollocks 'til he agrees?

Wait, before you do that

what's going on with Gargamel?

Does he want to be a Smurf?

Does he want to eat the Smurfs?

I mean, he wears a black smock dress

because he's a magical cat for god's sake.

What in the name of god's going on there?

Can anybody explain that?

It's ludicrous, isn't it?

Cats all together, oh god.

- Jimmy!

Where's my telly?

- Eire.

(synth pop music)

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