All language subtitles for Plebs s02e06 The Candidate.eng

- (DOOR OPENING)
- JULIUS: Good afternoon, sir.

Have you given much thought
to the upcoming local elections?

GRUMIO: Can't say I have as it happens.

Ah. Then may I talk to you briefly
about my own candidacy?

Depends, what you got there?

These are my promotional plums,
if you'd like one.

All right. Go on then, I'm all ears.

Right. Well, my name is Julius Priscus
and I would like to represent you

as tribune for the Aventine district.

Oh, sweet.

If elected, I pledge to rebuild our
squalid apartment blocks

and clamp down on the crooks who run them.

That's great that is, yeah. Keep going.

I will invest in our over-stretched
public services.

I love it.

And give the local people
whatever it is they need.

- I need another plum.
- Finally, I vow to run a clean campaign

with honesty and integrity to restore
this vibrant district to its former glory.

Magic.

- So, can I rely on your vote then?
- No, sorry.

- Why's that?
- I'm a slave, aren't I? Can't vote.

Cheers for the plums though.

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

Citizens of the Aventine, my name is
of Victor of the Grachaee

and I am a man you can trust.

That is a very bad wig.

I know, it's like a hairy plate.

It's time to stop the rot. To ban gambling,

whoring and fine anyone having
sex outside wedlock.

- Wig or no wig, that's just crazy talk.
- And yet this lot are loving it.

Not just the old codgers, but the young
hotties too like them, those two and...

Cynthia?

Cynth, what you doing here?

Supporting Victor.

Oh, yeah, why? He's a total dildo.

It's our job. We're hired clappers.

(CHEERING)

You're what? You're being paid?

Proper acting's been a bit thin
on the ground

so I'm doing a bit of clapping work
to keep my hand in.

Well, hands.

I'm not even listening. I just wait till
the end of the sentence and go berserk.

There should be no public toplessness,
even in hot weather.

(CHEERING)

And I will ban public urination.

(CHEERING)

I actually agree with that one.

You guys should totally sign up.

It's as simple as that.

- But you really hate his policies.
- But I really fancy his supporters.

I'll merely be applauding them.
And we need the extra cash.

I'm not working on my week off.
I don't care how fit his followers are.

- Salve, boys.
- BOTH: All right, Landlord?

Well, not great actually.
My knee's giving me gyp.

I have this crap on the walls and I gotta
tell the tenants the rent's going up.

- What, again?
- Yeah, I know. It's a bloody nuisance.

Not for you. You're the one doing it.

No, it's not me, mate. No, no, no.
I'm just a tiny cog in a big wheel.

There are forces out there
that are bigger than the both of us.

- Number 12's all paid up.
- Lovely.

You all right, lads?
(STYLAX WIMPERS)

Nose bleed. Just sort of...

Actually, the extra cash could be good.

PHILO: Name and profession?

- Marcus Gallo, I'm a copier.
- Any special skills?

None that I've discovered.

Stylax Eurisces, charioteer.

I can whistle.
I can do that thing where you go...

I used to be able to...
If you just put down mad skills.

Hmm.

(SNAPS) Oh, yeow! Did you hear that?

I did, bruv, that was sick.

Oh, here comes the big wig.

New recruits in a line, please.
Those selected for the street team

will join Tarquin and his group.

Those selected for the office team
will go with Clemens.

Street team.

Office.

Street team.

Mmm. Oh, no, office.

Street team.

Office obviously.

Street team.

- Thank you.
- Office.

- Sorry, just a sec.
- What?

I'd prefer to be on the street team.

- You're in the office.
- It's the office for you.

- Right. May I ask why?
- You have more of an office look.

- And what, sorry? What look's that?
- To be on street team you need to look...

How to put this? Better.

What? This guy is a dreamboat.
Give him another chance.

At being better looking?

- Yeah, he can do it.
- Can I?

Do your handsome face.

- What's that?
- Smoulder, Marcus.

Is it this?

- Wouldn't have thought so.
- Smoulder.

I'm trying to smoulder.

You'll have to smoulder yourself
a smaller nose I'm afraid.

Come on, I'm better looking
than half of this lot.

Not Tarquin, but I'm
definitely better looking than that guy.

Even he'd admit that.
He's an absolute goblin.

Yeah, he is actually.
Stick him in the office.

Go on then, over you go.

Sorry.

Vote for Victor, the family man.
Put the family first with Victor.

- Oi, ribbons.
- Yeah.

- It's, uh, Stylax, but...
- You're bare jokes, bruv.

Just trying some moves
to get rid of these flyers, innit.

Well, let me show you one of my moves.

Nice moves.

- Yeah, it's a bit quicker, innit?
- Much quicker, but also quite naughty.

Oh, there's much more
where that came from, bruv.

Vote for Julius Priscus.

Julius Priscus for a cleaner Aventine.

All right.

Vote for Julius Priscus.

- Ain't that you?
- Yes, it is. Yes.

So why not just say vote for me?

Because then they won't know who to tick
on the ballot paper. OK.

Oh. Right, yeah. That's dead smart, that is.
Give us a plum, then.

No, sorry, the plums are not for slaves.
I need these for genuine voters.

Go on. Give us
one of those juicy buggers.

No! And if you continue harassing me
I'll be forced to call the centurion.

Fine. But I'll come back, Julie,
and when I do, I'm getting hold of your plums.

Welcome to me yard.

- Wow, nice yard.
- Yes, it's my 'rents place.

- Cool. What's with all the posters?
- It's Dad's election shit.

- He certainly likes Victor.
- Yeah, probably 'cause he is Victor.

No shit. Wow, I didn't expect him
to have a daughter like you.

Yeah, neither did he.

So, come on then,
you gonna lips me or what?

Yeah, I...

It's just... Just a bit weird
with him staring at us.

- Better?
- Yeah.

Some bloody holiday this is. I'm doing
exactly the same shit I do at work,

- except I'm getting death stares off a goblin.
- Maybe stop calling him goblin.

And now Cynthia knows
how unattractive I am.

- She has seen you before.
- But now it's been officially verified.

Just come out with the street team.
Wiggy will never notice.

- Mmm. How was the street team?
- Bare hectic, bruv.

What does that mean?

It means I went to this girl's house
and had sex in her swimming pool.

Wicked. Shallow end or deep end?

Started off shallow end then drifted.

Of course. While I'm the basement of freaks,
you're off boning some random clapper.

She's not random, mate. Her name's Ambrosia
and she's Wiggy's daughter.

- Victor's daughter? Are you serious?
- Yeah, so what?

So? He's all about family values
and chastity, not underwater humping.

Politically, this is pretty spicy.

Well, my penis is politically independent.
It forms alliances with whoever it sees fit.

Although it does lean slightly to the left.

I'm just saying if Isabonus found out,
things would get bare hectic.

Seckle, bruv, no one's gonna find out.

That's brilliant, Marcus, well done.

So what, they had another look and realised
that you were handsome after all?

Yeah, basically.

His good looks aren't obvious.
They take time to appreciate.

Oh, they've certainly passed me by.

OK, street team. Listen up.
Listen up. Listen, the street team.

The wig's trying to escape.

Now then, I'm gonna need more applause
than usual today.

I'm speaking at Granary Heights,
aka the arsehole of the Aventine.

- Isn't that where we live?
- Yeah.

The audience will be poor and therefore
sulky which is why I need you to compensate.

I want smiles, I want sparkle. I want...
Hang on, what's he doing there?

Philo? The nose is back.
Why is the nose back?

I don't know, sir.
Come on, out you get, nose.

All right.
Will you stop calling me nose, please?

You called yourself nose
by having that nose.

Well, at least I don't have
road kill on my head.

How do you expect people to trust you
if you're wearing a wonky wig?

- What wig?
- What fucking wig? There is no wig.

I'm so sorry. It just came out.
Please don't hurt me.

How wonky is it?

A bit askew, yeah.

Mr Nose, pardon me,
I don't know your real name.

Marcus. Marcus Gallo.

You must have balls as big as your nose
to speak out like that.

Thank you?

The truth is, not all this hair is mine.

The sides are and I have very hirsute legs.
I thought to fashion some kind of comb over,

but I opted for a small toupee.
My wife doesn't know.

Right. Suspect she does, but...

If my appendage is that obvious,
perhaps I need a new approach.

Yeah. Get rid of it?

Or make sure it's always straight.

Would you do that for me, nose?

Brief me, Philo.

Well, the poor tend to like biscuits,
don't they?

And fighting. So maybe if we
promised them...

- A biscuit fight?
- Yes. What is that though?

What about offering people cheaper rents?
That could go down well.

- How's my hair, nose?
- Fine.

- There's a little flick that won't be tamed.
- Tame it, nose.

I imagine it's a fight in which biscuits
are either the prize or the weapon.

- Or introduce some sort of cap.
- On my head?

A cap on rents. The landlords here
are out of control.

Stick to hair, nose. Are we good to go?

And... Good to go.

- Please don't lick me in future.
- Sorry.

Vote for Julius Priscus. Julius Priscus...

Salve, Julie. Give us a plum.

Centurion! I told you if you kept
harassing me, I'd call them.

- Maybe I've something to offer.
- What do you mean?

Maybe I have some inside info vis-�-vis
a rival which could get advantageable

for your campaign, as it were.

No, thank you. I'm running a clean
campaign based on my convictions.

What sort of politician do you take me for?

The sort that wanted to win.
Must have had you wrong.

It's fine, centurion. False alarm.

People of Granary Heights,
my name is Victor of the Grachaee

and I pledge to put family first.

I know not many of you
here today are wealthy

and to you I declare that if you vote
for me you will receive three biscuits each.

(WEAK CHEERING)

Whoo!

Make that four biscuits each
and some sort of biscuit-based brawl.

And I pledge...

To impose a series of rent controls to cap
the price of housing at an affordable level.

(CHEERING)

I will make sure that avaricious landlords
are kept in check.

(CHEERING)

And if prices do move,
they're going down, not up!

(LOUD CHEERING)

Is that applause real?

I think it might be.

Bravo, nose.

Hey, Marcus. Saw you up there with Victor.
You were amazing.

Oh, thank you.

I thought your massive schnozz
was damaging his campaign.

Ha, far from it. He actually thinks I've got
a nose for politics so he's made his wingman.

- Wigman.
- Wing. Wingman. I'm an advisor.

About that. Do you think you could
get me up there

or at least more foreground,
seeing as you're his wingman?

- Wigman.
- Wingman.

I'm sure, I can conjure something up.

Oh, well, maybe you can conjure up an end
to this rent cap dog shit while you're at it.

Oh, no, sorry, can't help you there.

And why's that?

Well, I'm just a tiny cog in a big wheel.
There are forces out there

that are bigger than both of us.

Shit! Shit! Shitty shit!

This is a PR disaster.

It is a little off message.

- Shit!
- Sir. Doing that isn't great for your hairline.

- What do we know about this guy?
- Just that his name is Stylax.

Stylax? What's that? Greek?
Is he a shit-eating Greek?

- And apparently he's a charioteer.
- VICTOR: Anything else?

It says he's got mad skills.

Sounds like a fucking prat.
Exactly my daughter's type.

- What shall we do with him?
- The rumours can't have spread far.

If we were to disappear him now,
I doubt anyone would notice.

Good. Have it done.

- No, don't do that.
- Keep your giant beak out of this.

But it says he's a charioteer
so he's probably got fans.

If you disappear him,
you can forget about their vote.

Good point, nose. We're gonna have
to think of something else.

You two are getting married.

- Come again?
- Say what now?

It's the only way I can justify your
actions. You were already engaged.

- Are you murking me or what?
- Victor of the Grachaee murks no one.

If I may, sir. I get where you're
coming from and it's a very clever idea.

It was nose's idea.

I'm sure nose knows best, but ours
was more of a casual arrangement.

What? You're telling me that you're not
in love with my daughter?

Oh, keep your hair on, bruv.

Ambrosia, will you stop speaking
in that dreadful patois?

I didn't pay 7,000 denarii a term in school
fees to have you talk like a bloody Yardie.

Yeah, Dad, and I don't wanna marry this guy.
He's a waste man.

- He might not be.
- Oh, no, I am a waste man. She's right.

I'm lazy, I'm stupid. I've got no
prospects whatsoever.

- It says here that you're a charioteer.
- Yeah. I may have exaggerated that.

You've got the thick head of hair.
That can't harm the gene pool.

I believe that follows
the maternal line.

Does it? Shit. Well, I've made my mind up.
You'll be wed in the summer.

How long do we have to keep this up for?

- Forever.
- What? Oh, come on.

It's preferable to the alternative.
That would also have been forever.

Were you gonna kill him? Please, Dad,
just shank him. That's much better.

- How can I marry her when she just said that?
- Now, now.

All couples want to shank each other
now and again, believe you me.

I'm sure over time you'll be
at least partially happy.

Now let me be the first
to wish you hearty congratulations.

- Congratulations.
- (WEAKLY) Yay.

Vote Julius Priscus for a cleaner Aventine.

So, they're getting hitched
in the summer. Make it look legit.

- Is that all you've got?
- No. Also Victor wears a wig.

That's common knowledge.

- Is it?
- Yeah.

Did you know he pays a bloke
with a big nose to keep it straight?

What's the relevance of the nose?

- Nothing, just a bit of colour.
- Hmm. Go on.

Falker.

Got another commission for you.

So I thought, given her acting experience,
she could present you with flowers.

Maybe say a few words.

Yes, yes, yes. Fine. Just pay attention
to my crown in here, nose.

The moisture in the air can unhinge
it from its moorings.

Some landlords would like a word, sir,
about this rent caps policy.

- While I'm at my ablutions?
- He's at his ablutions.

Their guild has always contributed
to your campaign, sir.

Oh, very well. Are we static in the attic?

Yes, we are.

- Salve, Victor.
- Salve, Landlord.

Salve, Landlord.

I'll come straight out and say it. We think
you've forgotten who your mates are.

Is that so?

That is so. We've been very friendly
to you so that you'd be very friendly to us.

If you want our help in future,

we suggest you knock
this rent cap bollocks on the head.

So, Victor, would you kindly reconsider?

Sir?

- Yes, Philo.
- Ah!

Mmm?

How do you wish to proceed?

I think that revoking the rent cap idea
now will feel like a bit of an about turn.

Nose. What do you think?

I say we stick with the caps.

Is that your final decision, Victor?

Um... Yes, yes. It is.

We've got Landlord by the goolies.

Once Victor gets in,
our rent might even go down. Good, eh?

I won't be living here, mate. I'll be
shacked up at the wifey's yard.

Shit, yeah, I forgot about that.

Nice yard then, is it?

Yeah, it's fine, very big with, like,
proper slaves. No offence.

None taken.

But now we're engaged she wants me to give
up charioteering and get a job in finance.

Victor wants me to produce an heir.

- Did he say heir or hair?
- He wants a bloody grandchild, mate.

I mean, how did this happen to me? It's all
because I was picked for the street team.

- Curse my hot face.
- Victor might not get in, you know.

Oh, he'll get in. We are
way ahead in the polls.

Once he's visited the hospital tomorrow
and hugged a few lepers, we will walk it.

We? What's all this we bollocks?
You're just the wigman.

Ah, but he who wields the wig wins the...

(LISPS)... 'wace'.

So you give Victor the flowers and
and say thank you on behalf of the hospital.

Thank you on behalf of the hospital
for your unflinching support.

'Thank you on behalf of the hospital'
will do fine.

- Thank you so much, you dear man.
- Stop trying to get more lines.

OK, fine. Should I be compassionate,
head tilted to the side,

how-are-you-feeling type of nurse?

Or more of a strict and no nonsense,
shut your mouth and drink your medicine?

- The first one.
- Excellent. Thank you.

That's it, got it.

No, I mean, thank you, Marcus,
for giving me this break.

Oh, it's nothing really.

What's the point in having this power
if you can't spread it around?

There have been yet more
vicious slurs about me.

Oh, no, what now?

- They're saying that I wear a wig.
- OK.

And that I hire a man with a big nose
to keep it straight.

It's not that big.

With that in mind,
I suggest you back off a bit.

Cool.

- But remain within reach.
- So about here?

Perfect.

They're ready for you now, sir.

Very good. Here we go everyone.
Happy families. Hold hands you two,

you're supposed to be engaged
for Jove's sake.

(CROWD CHEERING)

Thank you so much. It's an honour to
meet you on such an auspicious occasion.

- Did you just wave at that sket?
- What? No, I didn't wave at the sket.

- What's a sket?
- That bitch back there.

I did not wave at the sket.

Salve, nurse.

- Salve, Victor.
- (GRUNTS)

All right, lads?

Help me, nose. We're slipping.

- Nurse, please do something!
- I'm not a nurse, I'm an actress.

It is my pleasure to introduce your
newly elected tribune, Julius Priscus!

(CHEERING)

- So what's this guy like?
- I know him. He's a right slippery sod.

- They're all the same, aren't they?
- Do you reckon he'll bring in the rent caps?

I somehow doubt it. Oi, Aurelius,
you been paid to clap?

There's a new system in place.
You get fined if you don't.

Yes!

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