All language subtitles for The League of Gentlemen s03e01.eng

(SIGHS)

(GRUFF VOICE) Oh, David. I'll always love you.

- (WOMAN SCREAMS)
- (MAN) Tubbs!

We're alive!

Where are we, Tubbs?

Um... I think we're following New Road.

David would have been proud.
Where are you taking us?

I thought we could go
to London. I've got a map.

I suppose we could start again.

A new shop. A new life.

Will we still be local?

Yes, Tubbs, but in a different way.

Well, we just need to cross this bridge,

pass the clock, and London
is inside this building here.

Tubbs, are you sure this is New Road?

Yes, Edward. I can see lines
and lines and lines and...

(HORN SOUNDS)

("LEAGUE OF GENTLEMEN" THEME)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

Okey-cokey, pig-in-a-pokey!
She's goin' for the pink.

Oh! Look who it is.

Eunice Evans, the Royston Poisoner.

- Pauline.
- Out of solitary, eh?

Why are you on my patch?
I hope you're not on canteen duty.

She wants to borrow the Exocet.

I bet she does. All those...Ionely nights.

- Well, it'll cost you.
- How much?

Five.

- I've only got three.
- Let's see 'em.

Pathetic! Look at that one!
There's barely an inch in it!

I'm promised a pink Pentel. I just need time.

Time's all you've got, sugar-nips.

I'm in a good mood. You'll get it by lights-out.

- (Best give it a rinse first.)
- Thanks, Pauline.

Of course, there are
other ways you could pay me.

- How do you mean?
- Nothing to be ashamed of.

- A lot of girls go pink inside.
- I can't.

'Course you can, big girl like you.

There's plenty of meat-maids
in here, right, Lozza?

- I just don't have it in me.
- You will tonight, Mama!

Sorry, Pauline, but I've got a loving husband.

You don't know what that's like.
You just don't know.

- Pauline?
- Mmm?

Are you going to come
and kiss the twins goodnight?

Soz, Loz. I'm not in the mood.

I'm going to be 50 when I leave this place.

Then what?

I always imagined myself
setting up a little shop.

"Her Nibs", it'd be called.

Two fountain pens either side of the door.

- Like a barber's.
- Yeah, but pens.

And inside, an Aladdin's cave
of calligraphic materials -

gel pens, highlighters,

perhaps quills for specialist
customers, mail order.

And I'd have a little flat above

and a girl who did Saturday mornings.

And every night after closing,

I'd take the lids
off the bottles of Quink and just...

(SNORING)

But it's just a dream, isn't it?

It's never gonna happen.

Campbell-Johns, you've got a visitor.

(RADIO) Barbara, you have
a pick-up at the women's prison.

- Are you listenin'? Over.
- All right! Keep your wig on!

(MUSIC: FUNERAL MARCH)

(MUSIC STOPS)

I'd like to thank you all
for comin' this afternoon.

I'm sure that our Peter would have been proud

to see so many people at his funeral.

- All of you that knew Peter...
- Crap!

- What were wrong wi' that?
- Where's the music?

The organ music carries on
through the eulogies.

- It'd run the batteries down.
- Is that all you're gonna say?!

"Forget Peter, we'd rather have batteries."
Get that music on!

It's a dress rehearsal.
Why's he wearing trainers?!

That's hardly showing respect
to your grandad, is it?

That's more like it. I want a good atmosphere.

- Carry on.
- (FUNERAL MARCH PLAYS)

All of you that knew Peter
would blah, blah, blah...

- Oh, what were that?!
- Come on. We all know this.

- We've done it 20 times.
- We'll do it 20 more!

I want to know exactly what everyone'll say.

We don't know how we'll feel
when...the time comes.

Oh, that's nice! Me own wife
don't know how she'll react!

What might you do, Sheila? Have a barbecue?!

- You've upset her.
- She's meant to be upset!

It's her husband's bloody funeral!

Don't talk to her like that.
She's enough to cope with.

Oh, I'm sorry I'm going
to be dead within a year.

"Prepare yourself," the doctor said.

But this is all too much!
Six weekends we've been here.

Oh, well, just put me in a bin bag.

Maybe we'll just do that.
You'll never know, will you?

Oh-ho-ho! What did I tell you?

Me own brother! You going
to dance on me grave as well?

Unbelievable!

Right, Stephanie. Get your recorder.

We'll have "There's No One Quite Like Grandad".

(BARBARA) There you go. You can
pay me on Friday at me party.

Oh, yeah. How old are you gonna be?

The big four-O.
So many candles to get through.

As we used to say in prison.

- Hello, Mickey, love.
- Pauline!

- Here y'are.
- Oh, thanks.

Mickey, did you do all these paintings?

They're good. I always knew
you had hidden talents.

You've hardly gone over any of the lines.

The blue felt ran out on this.

- That's why the sea is green.
- You can have green sea.

- Especially if you wee in it.
- Oh, Mickey!

I wanted to see you in prison,

but our Craig said it weren't allowed.

He said it was full of...Iibrarians.

It was. I can't tell you
how many books I flicked through.

- What are you gonna do now?
- I'm not sure.

There's some sheltered
accommodation in Sorrel...

- You can stay here.
- What's that?

- Stay here. Have my bed.
- Oh...

No... I couldn't.

Besides, what would your mam say?

- Nowt. She's dead.
- Oh, I am sorry.

We still get her dole money.
Please stay, Pauline.

I can't! I haven't got a job, any money...

- It don't matter...
- It does.

- I'm not scrounging off you.
- Please.

- Please.
- All right, then.

- But I have to go on the floor.
- We have got a toilet.

(THUMPING) Get a move on!

The wake starts in 10 minutes.

- (KNOCK AT DOOR)
- Come in. Sit down as usual.

Now, what seems to be the problem?

Well, I've been having these
bad headaches for six months.

- I feel something's wrong.
- I'll be the judge of that.

I'm prescribing you some tablets.

They're called paracetamol.

Take two at the first sign of the pain recurring.

Now, go out, would you?

Actually, Dr Carlton,
I've already tried paracetamol.

- They just don't seem to work.
- So?

Perhaps I need some tests.

You see, once again,
you're overstepping the mark,

and I don't like it one bit.

- Bed-wetting?
- No.

- Are you a tidy person?
- I try to be.

- Methodical?
- Yes.

So you're obsessional,
a trait ascribed to hypochondriacs.

- I'm not imagining it.
- I don't share your view.

There this interview will end. Go out.

- I'll go private.
- Mrs Beesley,

you cannot buy my opinion
as you would buy a used car.

That's not how we practise medicine here.

- Can I see another doctor?
- No!

They won't take you. We'll do things properly.

Come and see me again
in 22 weeks. Now, go out.

- I-I...
- Go out, would you?

(CRUNCHES)

I am now satisfied that your pain is genuine.

Thank you.

- Is that a prescription?
- No.

This is my private address.
Come to me in two nights' time.

You may find that I'm willing
to help control your pain.

However, as a private patient,

you will be expected to earn your treatment.

Oh, two further things.

You will bring one brand-name bottle of cola

- and a large Hawaiian pizza.
- Stuffed crust?

Yes. And bring some pyjamas.

It may be necessary for you
to stay overnight. (CRUNCHES)

Sorry I'm late. I had to pop
into Hammonds for a chap stick.

Two coffees, please. One white, one black.

Oh, have you got a spare snout?

Ta.

So... Here we are, then.

Yes. Here we are.

- How are you enjoying freedom?
- I'd hardly call it freedom.

Surely living with Mickey's better than prison?

There's still shit on the walls.

I don't care about his personal habits,
only his working ones.

- What have you got for me?
- Right. Let's see.

You know about 'em working the windscreens?

It's not enough for a conviction.

It's barely enough for a chap stick.

- What else?
- Oh, you'll like this.

- The mother's dead.
- What?!

Apparently, the eldest one, Craig,

dresses up like Norman fuckin' Bates
and signs her on.

What about Mickey? Do you have his trust?

- I think I've got his nits.
- Has he been working?

I think you're barking
up the wrong tree, Ross.

- Get closer to him.
- I'm in his friggin' bedroom!

In the night, I can hear him through the walls,

pooing and weeing at the same time...
in the airing cupboard.

- What are you saying?
- He's thick, he stinks

and he lives in a shithole - that's it!

- (MOUTHS)
- Look, these are the facts.

Mickey and his brothers have
been on the dole for 63 years.

They've claimed over £133,000 in benefits.

I studied for three years at university.

- Polytechnic.
- It's a university now!

And when I left, I never signed on.

I just worked every hour God sent
to pay off my debts.

Why should my taxes go
into the pockets of cheating dole-s...

Scum?

- You've got until Friday.
- That wasn't the deal.

The deal is you stay
until you bring me something concrete!

Remember who got you out of prison.

Yeah... And I remember
who put me there, as well.

If you don't cooperate, you lose everything.

You could say goodbye
to your precious little pen shop.

Keep up the good work.
We're partners now, remember.

- Did anybody see you arrive?
- No.

Did you inform anybody you were coming?

- No one.
- Good. You understand

that what goes on between patient and doctor

is to be treated in the strictest confidence?

I do... I mean, yes.

I'm sorry. It's getting worse.
I feel nauseous...all the time.

I seem to have this effect on many patients.

Here. Let me relieve you of the items.

- Have you brought your pyjamas?
- Yes.

Go upstairs and wait for me in my bedroom.

We'll see if we can't...
take your mind off the pain.

(WHIMPERING)

(BARBARA) Hello, gorgeous.
What's a nice girl like you

doing at a party like this?

Hey, you! What you doin', chatting up my date?

I thought you were an officer and a gentleman.

Hello, Pauline.
Don't be givin' me any more drink.

- I'm already 'alf-cut!
- What about the other 'alf?

When the baby's born,
there's bound to be some tearing...

Come on, Mickey, love. Let's dance!

Ah, you've all met Mrs Beesley,
who's joining us this evening.

Allow me to make some introductions.

This is Mrs Stevens.

- Hello.
- (SQUEAKS) Hello.

Mr Fishwick, who has a urinary infection.

- Hello.
- And this is little Paul Reid.

You've got problems
with your tummy, haven't you?

- (GURGLING)
- Aah.

Finally, Miss Taylor, who simply requires

a repeat prescription of an asthma inhaler.

- (WHEEZES) Hello.
- Now, the first game we'll play

is Grandmother's Footsteps,
so if you put in your potatoes,

we'll see who takes the part of grandmother.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four...

O-U-T spells "out"!

- Mrs Beesley. Beginner's luck.
- (POLITE APPLAUSE)

- Come to the end of the room.
- Oh, Doctor. My head...

Tell no lies, zip up your flies!

Bees are worse, that's my verse!

And so the game begins!

Mickey, I've been thinking
about you and your drawings.

- Why?
- You should try to sell 'em.

- For money?
- No, jelly babies (!)

- Of course, money.
- Nah. Not bothered.

You could. It'd be easy.
Just get a stall in the High Street.

Pauline, that's self-employment, in't it?

Only if someone found out about it.

Besides, they've got bigger fish to fry.

- I don't think so.
- You've got to do something.

You can't live off yoghurts all your life.

They're nice.

- Where are you getting money?
- Giro.

Don't tell me you live off
a fuckin' giro. It's impossible!

- You must be doing something.
- Get off me!

- I need answers!
- You're 'urtin' me hand!

You big girl!

Um...

- Anybody?
- The little boy.

Paul! It seems you are eliminated.

And so your pain continues
for another week.

Now, go out, would you?

He makes his own problems. Continue.

Ah-ha! Once again, I win the game!

We shall have a break for cola, pizza, ice cream.

Mr Fishwick and I will prepare the room...

for Busy Buzzy Bumbles!

(SOBS)

I'm sorry, Mickey, love.

I didn't mean to upset you.

Was it because I mentioned work?

- I know what you're doin'!
- What do you mean?

Thanks for sayin' it
about my drawings, but...

I don't want to do that.

- I want to be a fireman.
- You can't...

I know I can't!

But I have to dream, don't I?
Like you and your shop.

Without that, I ain't got owt.

Come 'ere, you big daft sod.

Mickey, you are a good man, aren't you?

Not tonight. I'm a woman.

Yes. And a very attractive one, too.

We did well with them spots,
turning 'em into freckles.

Yeah.

Mickey, love, I've got to tell you something.

I've been a fool. I...

Yes... Yes...

Go on, take it! Take it! (GASPS)

Come here!

Come on! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Pauline...

be gentle with me.

Don't worry, Mickey, love.

(SQUEALING)

(MOUTH FULL) That's right,
Mrs Beesley. Keep going.

That's right, Mrs Stevens.

(SATISFIED SIGH)

I don't know where that moustache went.

Mmm.

- Pauline?
- Hmm?

Is it 'cause I was dressed as a lady?

No, Mickey, love. Not at all.

I'm just glad I managed
to give you some sort of job.

Yeah.

Will it affect me dole?

Brilliant! Where is everybody?

Late for me own funeral.

Oh! Where've you been?
I could've been dead by now.

What's this? You've got the wrong tape in.

This is the music from Sharon
and Philip's wedding.

So, the bridesmaids will be
in position and the vicar begins.

We're not having bridesmaids.

Are there any persons present
who know any reason

why these people should
not be joined in holy matrimony?

- I do, your husband!
- I pronounce us man and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

No. What you doin'? That's not right.

That was a good rehearsal, wasn't it, Sheila?

You've got to get things right.
That's what Peter used to say.

- But I'm not dead yet!
- Eh, come on, Sheila.

Let's go and practise for us wedding night!

(INAUDIBLE)

(BUZZER)

- (ROSS) Hello?
- It's me.

- Come on up.
- (DOOR BUZZES)

Well, this is a pleasant surprise.

A home visit.
Can I get you a drink, tea or coffee?

No, I better not. Mickey's expecting me.

I promised I'd help him
shave his back this afternoon.

Nice. Well, I presume
you've got some information.

- I certainly have.
- Good. I'll just get the file.

You've got it very cosy
in here, Ross, I must say.

- Very cosy.
- So, what have you got for me?

- It's about Mickey.
- Yes.

- He's getting married.
- Oh, is he? The plot thickens.

- She's pregnant, no doubt.
- I hope not.

Go on, then. Who is the poor bitch?

- It's me.
- What?

Mickey's asked me
to marry him, and I've said yes.

- You and Mickey...
- Yes.

-..are getting married?
- Yes.

The lesbian and the monkey.
It's like one of Aesop's fables.

Yeah, like the crow who put
stones into people's water

because his beak couldn't reach.

- That's "Fingerbobs", isn't it?
- Whatever.

- I love him, and he loves me.
- Oh, really?

- Suddenly, you have emotions.
- Unlike some people.

- We had a deal.
- The deal's off.

- Simple as that?
- Send me back to prison.

- I don't care.
- I will!

- I don't care! I'm in love.
- With a man who's thick, stinks

- and lives in a shithole?
- Correct.

- Well, I'm pleased for you.
- Thank you.

- Am I invited to the wedding?
- What do you think?

It's a shame we won't be working together.

I was beginning to enjoy it.

Can I offer you a drink
to toast your engagement?

- No, thank you.
- Come on.

You'll be back in the Clitclink soon.

Why not have one last taste of freedom?

Goodbye, Ross.

(DOORBELL)

Pauline!

- Pau...
- Delivery for Mr Michaels?

- There you go.
- It's a present for my financé.

Right, love.

Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry.

So, what we gonna do now, then?

I don't know.

- Breakfast? Read the papers?
- I mean about this.

Oh, well. I don't have enough
evidence to prosecute Mickey.

The file's on there if you want to take it.

I presume that's why you did that.

Yeah.

Thanks.

You realise I'll have to tell him.

- What?
- Well...he's my friend...

..and I just betrayed his trust.

I couldn't live with myself.

Could you?

Why are you doing this, Ross?

Because you made me hate my job.

You better hurry, Pauline.

(PHONE RINGS)

(ROSS'S VOICE) You better hurry, Pauline.

You realise I'll have to tell him?

(SCREAMS)

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