All language subtitles for Plebs s04e07 The Accountant.eng

"Dear small business owner:
As we haven't received

your self-assessment tax
return for this year,

we estimate your company to be in debit

to the sum of 5,128 Denari."

- Oh, my God. Five grand?!
- Well, a bit more.

- We're getting five big ones!
- Get in, my son!

Hoo-hoo! Five biggies!

Let's buy a yacht! Oh, or a tiger!

You guys don't know what
"debit" means, do you?

Oh, shit. Is it the other one?

? Yeah! When in Rome

? Do as the Romans do

? Far from home

? All I got is you ?

So, it says we've got one week to pay up

or the bar will be liquidated.

OK, before I celebrate again,
what does that one mean?

It means finding other, proper jobs

where we can't just eat nuts and
pretend to polish cups all day.

And Jason, please,
please, stop running tabs.

Yeah, it's just so much easier
than taking actual money.

That's the whole point. Taking money
is literally our only objective.

- I mean, who's Viggo?
- He's my barber.

Right, well, he apparently
owes us 570 Denari.

Nah. It's more like 500 now.
He's been paying me back.

OK, good. And...

- Hang on, in money or...?
- Haircuts, yeah.

Right, that explains why you've had
five different styles this week.

Cos none of them have really
settled. Know what I mean?

What do you think of a mohawk?

I think stop getting haircuts, mainly.

- And get the money he owes us.
- All right, chill. I'm going.

- Snails are back.
- Oh, not again.

Grumio, I thought you got rid of them.

I did. I suppose they
just like the vibe in here.

That's because the vibe is damp and pooey.

They'd stay away if you
cleaned this place up.

I am. Starting with these nuts.

No, start with the
snails. Just round 'em up.

If they don't outpace you, that is.

Oh, blimey, it's a bloody massacre.

I'm just saying, a quiff
would look banging on you.

No, thanks. I've had the
same haircut for 28 years,

so I'll probably stick
with it till I die now.

Oh, Gloria. Hi. Sorry to
interrupt your pegging.

I was wondering if you
could give us some advice

- about something a bit delicate?
- Ooh, go on. Sounds intriguing.

Well, we've just been hit
with a hefty tax bill

- and are wondering how to appeal it.
- Not so intriguing, it turns out.

Um, no idea, I'm afraid. I leave
all that to my accountants.

You might know them --
Shatzberg and Shatzberg.

No. Why would I know them?

Well, cos it's a small community.
I thought you all knew each other.

Yeah. I mean, I'm not Jewish.

- Oh. Sorry, I thought you were.
- No way! So did I at first.

- Cos of the whole...
- And the personality.

- OK, I am still here. - It was when
I saw his pecker weren't circumcised

- that I knew for sure.
- Let's leave it there, ideally.

- Thanks, anyway.
- It turns out it was intriguing after all.

Please don't discuss my
pecker in front of Gloria.

Or call it a pecker. It doesn't
make it sound very impressive.

Hang on, where are we going?
The barber's that way, isn't it?

Uh-huh, change of plan.

- I am really not sure about this.
- It'll be fine. It suits you.

Their Almighty God won't like it.

He might smite me. It's one of his things.

Relax. No-one's getting smited.

Just get in there and bag us
a bad-ass Jewish tax guru.

Mm.

'Ey up.

How d'you get all the way over there?

Hello, love.

Ooh.

See you later, man. Thanks
a lot. So, who's next?

What's going on, bro?
Have a seat. Have a seat.

No, I'm not here for a
cut this time, Viggo.

- I need to call in your bar tab.
- I hear you. No problem.

Just a shame you have to do it now.

- Give me what's there if you ain't got it all.
- Oh, no. Shame for you.

I just got the new look-book in today.

All the freshest styles.

Oh, right. It's... Nah,
I shouldn't really.

- Ooh.
- Check it out.

See how it stands up.
And then it fades out.

It's called the Gallic Box.

- Sick, innit?
- Yeah, that is extremely sick.

Ladies are gonna go bonkers
for the Box, trust me.

But if you have to settle that tab...

Salve, Grumio.

- All right, Landlord?
- Busy day, then?

Yeah, you know, just taking
my new pet for a walk.

- Her name's Shelley.
- Oh, nice.

- Cos of the shell.
- Oh, I hadn't thought of that.

Lordy. Look at her go!

- She's dead nippy, isn't she?
- Are you kidding me? Nippy?

Fastest damn snail I've
ever spent the day watching.

As if. Any bozo from
my mum's cabbage patch

would be just as fast as that div.

- Do you want a bet?
- Oh, any time, any time.

Let's say 10 Dennies.

What do you reckon, Shelley, love?

Shelley says, "Bring it on."

- Shabbat Shalom.
- Oh, yes.

Um... Thank you?

So who the hell are you, then?

- Er, I... How do you mean?
- Take a look around.

Most of the guys here
are ancient and bearded.

So when one shows up who
isn't, people are gonna notice.

Right, yes. Well, I'm lapsed.

And just wanted to reconnect
with the old Jewish...

belief system.

- Judaism.
- As it's known.

And also to meet an accountant.

I believe there's a Shatzberg
and also a Shatzberg

- in the community.
- There is.

That's Solomon Shatzberg over
there, with one of the beards.

He won't be able to help you, though.

I know for a fact he's run off his feet.

Ah. And the other Shatzberg?

The other Shatzberg might
be able to fit you in.

Oh, fantastic.

Er... which one's he?

"He" would be me.

Oh, shit, sorry.

It's fine, really. Rebecca Shatzberg.

- It's good to meet you.
- Marcus. Gallo... berg.

- I told you it would be fine.
- It was better than fine, mate.

I got myself an accountant
who is female, hot

and has invited me for a
slap-up family dinner.

- All that for just plonking
on a little hat? - I know.

- I should've worn this ages ago.
- It's a very sharp look on you, bro.

Don't take advice from a
man with a loaf on his head.

Not a loaf. I'm wearing a sweet
new look called The Gallic Box.

- Ladies are gonna love it.
- Hm.

So you've not called in
your tab with the barber?

Not yet, but this is my
last haircut. I swear down.

- I'll call in my tab tomorrow.
- Salve, boys. Are you open?

Evening, Landlord. What can we get you?

A glass of wine for me, please,

and a slice of humble pie for Grumio.

Because my snail here, Mr Random Snail,

is about to prove that
fast snails don't exist.

Whatever, mate. Shelley's
gonna fuck him up.

Nize! Are we having a snail race?

Well, sort of nize.

You did say you'd take
the snails out of the bar,

- not bring more in.
- Yeah, I know, I know.

This is my last snail race. I swear down.

Thank you both for doing pretty much

the exact opposite of what I asked you.

As per bloody usual.

'Ey up, Shelley, love, it's show-time.

In lane one, hailing from
Landlord's mother's allotment,

Mr Random Snail.

Come on, you Random Bastard.

And in lane two, from the
Crown and Toga itself,

- local girl Shelley.
- Brrap, brrap, brrap!

Focus, Shelley, love.
Don't get distracted.

On your marks.

Get set.

Right, let's maybe get
a drink and come back?

Yeah, good shout.

I must say, Mrs Shatzberg,

this is the finest
gefilte fish, if not fish,

- I have ever eaten.
- So have a little more, then.

Oy vey, what are you doing to me here?

I won't need to eat all week.

Marcus runs his own bar, Tatty.

Oh, very good. Would I know it?

It's the Crown and Toga. On the Aventine.

The old toilet. Yeah, I've
walked past it a few times.

Well, next time, come on in.

According to the menu outside,
it says you serve squid.

We do. It's delicious.

And squid isn't kosher.

I've heard it's delicious. I've
not tried it myself, obviously.

I stick to our kosher dishes.

Right. Like what?

Like... er, well, we do gefilte fish.

Mm-hm. What else?

- Potato kugel, anyone?
- Potato kugel. Yeah, we do that.

What else, that we haven't
already eaten tonight?

Ooh, um...

Let me think, um...

Yes, we also... do...

.. omelettes?

I practically live on omelettes.

Tell me, Marcus, what do you think of

the political situation in Palestine?

Ugh. Well, you know, it's
complicated, isn't it?

Is it? Complicated how?

Give it a rest, Simon, we're
not doing politics tonight.

And I really think we should take
a look at your accounts, Marcus.

Of course. Shame.

I love talking about Palestine. Oh, well.

Thank you so much for dinner.

- Come on...
- Move it, Random!

Nearly there, Shelley. Yes...

- Oi, wake up, dickhead.
- Oh!

We have a winner. Which one's that?

- It's Shelley. Shelley's the winner.
- Nice one, Random, you lazy twat.

- Ooooh.
- That's a bit dark.

Best thing for it. He
couldn't hack the pace.

That's 10 Dennies, I believe.

Sorry I doubted you, Grumio,
fast snails are a thing.

For our next race, I shall find
myself a proper little mover.

Oh, I dunno about that. I
promised Marcus it were a one-off.

Too late. I'm into it now.

And I'm gonna step it up a
level. I'm talking 10 lanes.

- Big money.
- Yes!

Can we get some hotties
to present the trophies?

Sure -- hotties, trophies, the lot.

Unless Shelley's ready to retire?

Er...

They haven't taken into account
the small business exemptions,

the cost of refurbishment, your payroll.

So, can you get the bill reduced?

- Of course. It's what I do.
- Oh.

As long as we cite legitimate
expenses in the appeal,

then, Baruch Hashem, I think
we can get it down to zero.

Sorry? Zero as in nothing?

That's what zero usually means.

You're incredible.

Sorry. I didn't mean to do that.

No, no, it's fine. I mean,

I get turned on by
financial savings as well.

I make financial savings every
day but meeting a nice Jewish boy,

that's extremely rare.

Ooh. No. Maybe we shouldn't.

Really? Why? Don't you want to?

No, I do. I really want to... do that.

It's just... I feel bad, with
your parents in the next room.

As a nice Jewish boy, I wouldn't
want to... disrespect them, so...

Wow. Hot, charming and respectful.

You really are the whole package.

So, we should get you
onto a pension scheme.

But she didn't see your pecker?

No, I managed to stop her before
she came eye to eye with it.

But I've also got her
brother all up in my face,

quizzing me about forbidden food.

- Why would food be forbidden?
- I don't know.

I guess their God Jehovah's
just quite a fussy eater.

I've been swatting up on the rules.

So, for now, we have to take pork
and squid off the menu pronto

and you can get your slimy
snail out of there too.

What, why? There's nothing
piggy or squiddy about Shelley.

- No, but she's a mollusc.
- Eff off. YOU'RE a mollusc.

- As in, she's not kosher.
- I'm not gonna eat her.

We can't take any risks, Grumio.

So long as we don't trip up on
my foreskin or your mollusc,

it is bye-bye tax bill

and welcome back your lovely,
lazy lives of leisure.

Amen.

Jehovah be praised.

Well, it's mainly me, but all
right... cheers, Jehovah.

Mollusc, my big balls.

You're not a mollusc, are you, Shelley?

No, you're a bloody champion.

Oh, now, then. Where
did you lot come from?

Get out of it.

OK, kosher or no-sher?

- Cheese steak?
- No-sher.

- Can't mix meat and dairy.
- Correct.

- What about mackerel pate?
- Kosher.

A mackerel has fins and scales, my friend.

Of course it does. In
which case, mazel tov.

Your training is complete.

I mean, foreskin aside,

you're basically one
of God's chosen people.

I like to think I already was.

Right, I'm gonna bounce.

This steam is wilting my Box.

Sure, see you back at the bar.

Call in that tab.

- Viggo...
- Hey, what's happening, man?

Sorry, mate, I really need to
call in your tab this time, OK?

- No more haircuts.
- No problem. I'll get you the cash.

- Give me a second, OK?
- Sure, no worries.

- Aurelius. What are you doing here?
- Getting my hair cut, weirdly.

Whoa, hey, no. Nuh-uh.

You can't copy my Box.

I'm not copying your
Box. I wanted one anyway.

- It's a very fresh look.
- I know,

but not if you have one as well.

Shall I fetch the look-book?

Marcus!

Simon, hi.

- Didn't see you there.
- Well, I saw you.

And I saw it.

Sorry? You saw what?

Your shmecky, Marcus. I saw it.

And? Do you not have one?

Not like that. Your one has a sleeve.

Pfff! I don't think so,
mate. You made a mistake.

- Did I? Well, let's find out.
- What?

What are you doing? Get off. Get off!

Oi, ah, let go!

- Here we are.
- This is assault!

- I can feel it.
- No. That's the scrotum.

I can feel the foreskin.

All right, fine. Fine!

I've got a foreskin.

OK, I just haven't got round
to being circumcised yet.

Haven't got round to it? It gets
done when you're eight days old.

So I'm a bit late. So what?

So you're not a Jew at all,
are you? Selling your squid

with your foreskin flapping
about all over the place.

You're just a lying Roman
goy, aren't you? Aren't you?

Yeah.

Are you going to tell Rebecca?

Well, I don't want to humiliate her.

So as long as you agree
to stay out of her life,

for ever, I'll keep shtum.

OK. Thank you.

But if you darken our door again,

I'll expose that foreskin faster
than you can say "potato kugel".

Gross.

That's it. I am through with being a Jew.

The brother saw, or rather felt,
my foreskin at the bathhouse.

- Oh, shit. So what now?
- So now I can't see Rebecca again.

- You know what that means?
- Get circumcised.

What? No, it means we have
to pay our massive tax bill.

Of course I'm not getting circumcised.

Why not? It's a piece of piss.

- Oh, is it, Grumio? You do it, then.
- I will. Would that help?

It would help me. It would make my day

to watch someone slice your dick off.

It's not the whole dick.
It's just the tip.

You can go back to Rebecca and say
the brother made the whole thing up.

I am not getting circumcised, OK?

Stop devising scenarios in
which I get circumcised.

It's not happening.

Look, the tax bill is five grand.

Right? So how much do we have in cash?

- About 700, I think.
- Uh-huh.

OK, plus the 500 from the barber's, right?

From your silence and stupid new haircut,

- I guess that's a no.
- In my defence,

I had to get the Etruscan Fin cos
Aurelius copied my Gallic Box.

- I actually prefer that one.
- Really?

I think maybe Viggo
took a bit too much off.

So we're a mere four and
a half big ones short.

Well done, everyone. We can
wave goodbye to this place.

I know how we can get the big ones.

What? How?

So, you know you told me not to
do any more snail racing and that?

- Yes?
- Well, instead,

I set up another even bigger snail race

tonight with Landlord and his mates.

Oh, fantastic news.

It's a 500 Denari buy-in.
Winner takes all.

Landlord reckons there'll
be quite a few runners.

Ooh, I like where this is going.

I don't. I hate where this is going.

We are not staking everything on a snail.

Why not? She breezed past
Landlord's chump last time.

Shelley's a winner. Fact.

Slippiest undercarriage in
the history of the sport.

Which is what? One whole day?

She can do it. I know she can.

And right now, she's our best bet.

Don't walk on the...

You may as well hand that straight to me.

Because my new boy Brutus
is a freak of nature.

Show him, Mum.

Ooh, looks like Brutus
could lose a few pounds.

He's not fat. He's just big-shelled.
That's all muscle under there.

- Did you find some hotties to
present the trophy? - Sort of.

- Mum's gonna do it. - Yeah, I've
shaved my pits and my bits especially.

- Oh, lovely.
- So where's Shelley, then?

She gone into her shell, has she?

No, no. She's just limbering up.

Shelley? Is that you, Shell?

Right, is she good to go, then?

Whoa, whoa, why are there so many snails?

I dunno. It's a mystery.

Well, did you clean the bar like I said?

Well, no, I made a training
area out of cabbage and puddles.

Right, mystery solved.

I mean, this is idiotic. I...

- I'm calling it off.
- No, don't. I've found her.

- Really?
- Deffo. I'd know her anywhere.

- Are you sure?
- I swear. This is definitely her.

All right, come on, then.

Oh.

On your marks.

- Get set.
- Slither!

- Go on, Shelley!
- Shit 'em up, Brutus.

Go on, you big bastard!

Come on. Let's go,
Shelley. Crank it up, girl!

Come on, Shell. Get your head in the game.

- What's wrong with her, Grumio?
- I don't know. She's not herself.

How did you get all the way over there?

Oh.

Hello, Shelley, love.

We have a winner!

Number three, Brutus!

You can do this. It's just a snip.

One little snip and we get to keep the bar

- and you get to keep your girlfriend.
- It's a win-win.

It is in no way a win-win, Grumio.

I'm about to be circumcised by a barber.

All right. Hitch your
tunic up, please, fam.

It's not like you can ask
the Rabbi to do it, is it?

Anyway, you'll be fine. Viggo's a genius.

You said he took off too much last time.

- Oh, is that right?
- Well, maybe just a teensy bit.

Please don't do that in this
case. This is just a trim.

I can't really afford to lose any more.

Just a trim. I hear ya.

But then we're quits
on the tab, by the way.

Cos this is definitely
not in my look-book.

All right, keep still, then, bruv.

You've not been in synagogue.

I was starting to worry
that you'd lapsed back.

No, not at all.

I've been praying from home.

Just been a bit busy with... stuff.

OK, well, the appeal's all done.

I just need to post it

and, Baruch Hashem, you're in the clear.

Baruch Hashem!

You're amazing.

So are you coming in or not?

Your brother's not in, is he?

- No, no-one else is in.
- Oh, good.

We've got the whole place to ourselves.

Um, ooh...

Ha! Actually, maybe we should wait a bit.

This is like waiting
for the bloody Messiah.

I'm done with waiting.

Mm, just...

I'm quite... sensitive is all.

I really like that about you.

Yeah, OK. Let's do this.

No, no, I can't.

Holy shit, that hurts.

What? Well, what is it? Let me see.

No, please. I've only
just been circumcised.

You've been... What? Why would you...?

Cos I'm not a Jew.

I just look like one and
needed help with my taxes.

Are you serious?

You're just some nebbishdicke schnorrer?

- I don't even know what that means.
- Have a guess.

Some kind of... lying... arsehole?

That's close enough.

Look, Rebecca, I'm really sorry.
I really, really like you.

And I'd love to keep seeing
you. As my girlfriend.

And my accountant.

Well, to be clear, Marcus,
I'm no longer either.

Ooh.

I am really sorry. For everything.

I can take care of the postage.

Well, I saved the bar.
By the skin of my teeth.

Or penis, in this case.

Thank you both for contributing
absolutely nothing.

Well done, bro. Look,

I got you a little pressie
just to say thank you.

I rescued it from Viggo's
just after you passed out.

My foreskin? You shouldn't have.

I'll be contributing big-time
from now on, don't you worry.

By cleaning up nuts?

No, by winning our money back
off Landlord. And then some.

Now I've found Shelley and
cleared out the lookalikes,

we can beat any snail out there.
We could even go on tour with her,

win races in different cities,
in different parts of the Emp...

Or maybe not.

It did sound like a right faff, actually.

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