All language subtitles for A Bit Of Fry And Laurie S02E03

Cloffing.

Prunk.

Shote.

Cucking.

Skank.

Fusk.

Pempslider.

No, we weren't going
to use that one.

- Weren't we?
- No, if you remember, that's, you know,

that's a bit too much.

- What, pempslider?
- Yes.

Sorry. Right.

Lastly, pim-hole.

Ha!

So, here it is,
ladies and gentlemen,

please welcome our first sketch,
crammed with these viscous swearwords.

Erm, now, then, Sergeant Henderson,
perhaps you'd care to tell the court

what the accused said
at the moment of arrest.

Yes, sir. May I consult
my notes, my lord?

Certainly, certainly,
certainly. By all means, yes.

I apprehended the accused and
advised him of his rights.

He replied, "Why don't you
ram it up your pim-hole?

"You, fusking cloff-prunker."

Now, forgive my ignorance, Mr Clarkson,
but what exactly is a "cloff-prunker"?

- Er, well, my lord, it's a...
- Yes.

- An illicit practice, whereby one person...
- Well?

Er, whereby one person...

frangulates another's
plimp, my lord.

Silence! He does what?

He or she gratifies the other
party by smuctating them avially.

Good God!

How absolutely disgusting! Do
people really do that sort of thing?

I believe so, my lord.

- Very well. Carry on.
- Thank you, my lord.

Erm, so, Sergeant Henderson,

after you arrested the accused,
you took him to the police station.

Do you have a transcript of
the interrogation that ensued?

I have, sir, yes.

I asked him if he could explain his
whereabouts on the night in question.

He replied, "I was in all night,
wasn't I, you pempslider?"

- "Pempslider"?
- Er, yes, my lord...

No, thank you, Mr Clarkson. I'm not
entirely ignorant in these matters.

I beg your pardon, sir.

I did go to
Winchester, you know.

Er, so, Sergeant?

Um, he said, "Skank
off, you cloffing cuck!

"You're all a load
of shote-bag fuskers,

"so prunk that up your
prime-ministering pim-hole."

And what did you say to that?

Er, I told him to mind
his language, my lord.

I should bloody well think so.

Well, I thought the whole
thing was, erm, disgusting.

The whole thing was
simply disgusting.

- Yes, did you...?
- And there was no warning given

as to what was in
store. None whatsoever.

We have the producer with us...

Now, for goodness sake, what if my
children had been watching, hmm?

I mean, no thought had
been given to this at all.

- Did your children actually see the programme?
- No, no, no, no. No, they didn't.

They didn't see it, no. But only
thanks to the purest of good fortunes

that they don't actually
happen to have been born yet.

Otherwise, I dread to think what
damage may have been caused.

It was simply disgusting.

- Yes, I think...
- Simply disgusting.

Turning...

Simply disgusting.

So, Colin Essdale,
you're producer,

- do you feel, Colin, that you...
- Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.

This is obviously a
very difficult problem.

Perhaps, it might
help if I explain

that I don't give a flying toss about
Mrs Barrett or her feeble views.

Well, erm...

I beg your pardon?

Now, I've only got
an estimated, erm...

47 years left on this planet

and I don't propose to
waste any more of them

in idle chatter with a
confused old gasbag like you.

So, I'm off to talk to a friend
about making another programme,

which I fully expect
and hope that

will irritate you and your
half-witted friends even more.

Goodbye.

So, Mrs Barrett, are you
satisfied with what you've heard?

- Well, not really, no.
- Tough.

Colin Essdale, a
last word from you?

Pim-hole.

I had shares in gas, water,
electricity, the lot.

But then the government sold
them all, unfortunately.

Yes, I've had sexual
intercourse with her, yes,

but only in the biblical sense.

Ah, good morning.

Sir, it is a good morning.

Sir is handsomely
right to say so.

Yes, right.

Was sir aware, I'm in the
business of wondering,

that I made so bold as to remark to the
youngest of my mothers earlier today

on the goodness of the morning, as she
wheeled me into an upright position?

Was sir in an awareness of that?

Er, no. No, I had no idea.

"Here is a morning, mother
of my bosom," I averred,

"as fine and crisp and gutty

"as any since the days that Compton
and Edrich opened for England

"and the sun never went down on the
British without asking permission first."

- Did you?
- Sir, I did. I did, sir.

And if two broad-shouldered,
long-fingered young men such as ourselves

can come independently
to the conclusion

that the morning they are currently
experiencing is one of a goodness,

then one of a goodness
it most assuredly is.

- Really?
- Really, sir,

and you can spank me quietly with
a chamois leather if it isn't, sir.

- Aha. Now...
- But sir didn't come into this shop

to trade insults with me on
the state of the morning,

unless I'm more vastly
mistaken than a man

who thinks that Hilaire
Belloc is still alive.

No, no, I...

Do sit down, sir.

Oh, thank you very much.

No, sir has brought his fine,
handsomely-wrought young frame into this shop

with the express purpose of going about
the business of buying some jewellery.

- Am I close to the mark?
- Er, yes. That's more or less right, yes.

Do you mind if we stand up, sir?

I think perhaps your sitting down
idea was a little ahead of its time.

Er, yes, now, the thing is, I'm
getting engaged next week...

Would you like an Opal Fruit?

A nice strawberry Opal
Fruit, or indeed any flavour?

Oh, well, yes, that'll
be very nice, thank you.

I won't be long.

Where are you going?

- Where am I going?
- Yes.

There is a sweetshop not
two miles away from here

and I happen to know that
they sell Opal Fruits.

No, no, no. Really,
don't bother.

- Don't bother?
- No, really.

Is sir in absolute possession
of sureness in this regard?

I just came in here
for an engagement ring.

I merely thought that if you, you know,
if you had an Opal Fruit on you...

On me? Sir, I have
no Opal Fruit on me.

I can and will go further, I have
never had an Opal Fruit on me.

Perhaps sir would like to check the top
of my head if he remains unconvinced.

No, look, can we just
forget about the Opal Fruit?

The Opal Fruit is irrelevant. Can we
just concentrate on the engagement ring?

Sir, I am chastened and bowed.

Ever the man of affairs, sir has
reminded us all, all of our duty.

- An engagement ring for sir.
- That's right.

What flavour of engagement
ring have you in mind?

Flavour? What are
you talking about?

Just my little joke.
You'll humour a dying man.

We have a large range
of engagement rings which

I would ask sir to cast
over with sir's eyes,

which I cannot help but notice,
are of a startling cobalt blue

that would go very well with the wallpaper
in one of my god-niece's back rooms.

- Right, I'm leaving.
- How about this one, sir?

- What?
- This one here, sir.

Er, well, yes,
that's quite nice.

Sir, the issue of the "quite
niceness" of this particular ring

has been raised in Prime
Minister's Question Time.

Well, how much is this one?

I would be wrong to let it go for
more than 40,000 of your Earth pounds.

£40,000?

I would be equally at fault if
I let it go for less than 90.

Right. So, it's between
£40,000 and £90.

Sir is as dogged in
his pursuit of detail

as Roy Walker, presenter of
the never-popular Catchphrase,

is dogged in his pursuit
of a thick earlet.

Yes, perhaps you could, in
preference to me walking out of here

just after hitting you very hard in the
face, just tell me the frigging price.

Since sir has been kind enough
never to be Peter Sissons,

I can let him have it
for 218 poundingtons.

£218?

200 and 18 pounds
that should be.

That's what I said.

That's what you said,
I barely spoke at all.

Right. Well, could you put it
in a presentation box, please?

There's no need, sir, I'll
wear it straight away.

I beg your pardon?

And I really think you
should talk to Father.

He's upstairs in the cellar.

Right, now I really am leaving.

Leaving? But we're engaged.

Goodbye.

Men are such bastards.

I can still remember my
first ever girlfriend.

Er, her name was Latifah.

And she was something like the chief
engineer on a Syrian minesweeper.

I met her at a party in
High Wycombe. Nice girl.

A bit soppy, but nice.

Er, and then there was Judith.

Judith was amazing.

I met her... Let me see,

at the semi-final of The Daily
Telegraph crossword competition in...

I can't remember when. Peterborough,
I think it must've been.

And she cheated, I'm afraid. She had
a dictionary hidden in her tights.

But then, so did I.

Erm, Judith...

Judith worked for the
Baader-Meinhof group.

Er, I don't know what as.
A secretary or something.

But she was the one who introduced
me to Lola, who I eventually married.

Quite by accident,
as it happens.

Lola was flying VC-10's for British
Airways, or BOAC as it was then.

And, er,

I was on board when she did this
emergency landing in Helsinki.

Er, because of an undercarriage
failure or something,

and I went forward to congratulate
her on this brilliant piece of flying.

And she didn't speak
any English at all,

and I only have a
smattering of Hebrew.

So it wasn't until the
next day that I realised

that I'd actually mistakenly
asked her to marry me.

Er, she died at the ceremony.

Which was very sad 'cause
I really did love her.

Er, but she was in her eighties
or early nineties, if I remember.

So it was a good
innings, anyway.

And then after Lola
there was, er...

Felicity.

Who was, I suppose... I suppose
you call her a piss artist.

I mean, she was
really a piss artist.

She used to daub these
enormous canvases with urine.

Not hers, I don't think,
but I could be wrong.

Dora, who...

I don't really remember much about Dora,
except that she was immensely tall.

She was well over
seven feet tall.

You know, really tall.

Oh, yes. She used to have these sneezing
fits whenever she went to the theatre.

It was only the theatre
that did it, funnily enough.

'Cause I remember we, er,

we had tickets to see the second night
of Look Back in Anger, in Lisbon.

And...

You know, almost before it had started,
there she was just sneezing away.

We left. Couldn't... Didn't see any
of it. Still haven't seen it, in fact.

Er, then after Dora, let me
see, who came after that, hmm...

It's weird, isn't it? I mean,
where to they find these people?

I know.

I mean, nobody has actually come out
of a barbershop looking like that.

Oh, well, anyway.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
mystery objects.

I wonder, how many of you
can guess what this is.

Er, any ideas, Stephen?

- No, not really.
- No?

Oh, unless...

Ah, are we going back to 1974?

1974, that's
absolutely right. Yes.

Erm, ladies and gentlemen,
this was one of the stars

of an episode of Doctor
Who, way back in 1974.

This was one of the Wondarks
from the Watei galaxy.

Well, it was the Wondark
spaceship, wasn't it? 'Cause...

It was, yes, that's right, it
was the spaceship. I'm sorry.

The Wondarks were played
by packets of Silk Cut.

That's right, yes, yes.

Anyway, I don't know if we can
get a camera in really close here.

Can we have a look at this?

I don't know if you can see
that, but this is actually made

out of an old Sqezy bottle.

Er, it's... I know it sort of
gives away the illusion of it,

but it's amazing to see what
they can do, isn't it, really?

- They can create an alien worid.
- Yeah.

All for the price
of a crap haircut.

- Hello.
- Morning.

- We're from the Westminster Society.
- The Society, yes.

And we wondered if we could come in
and talk to you about our aims...

Is there any chance of us
coming in and talking to you?

- ...and the possibility of you joining us.
- Is there a possibility you may want to join us?

- Well.
- Oh, thanks ever so much.

Thanks very much.

Thank you. I say,
what a lovely front room.

Yes,
what a handsomely proportioned room, yes.

- It's a lovely front room. Hmm.
- Very nice indeed, very nice front room. Hmm.

My name is Mr Willis, by the
way, and this is Mr Barraciough.

Barraciough is my name, yes.

- No relation, in case you're wondering.
- Sorry?

- We're not related, in case you thought we were.
- You may have thought we were, but we're not.

- Why should you be?
- We shouldn't be. That's what I'm saying.

He's saying we're not.

I'm saying we shouldn't
be related and we're not.

- Yes, that's right.
- Hence, the totally different names.

That's really why we've got
completely different names.

So, what can I do for you?

- Well, as I say...
- The thing is...

- ...we're thinking of founding a society.
- ...my colleague's really thinking

of founding a society.

- And perhaps you'd like to join us.
- And you may be interested in joining us,

who knows?

What is the society for?

- It's, well...
- Well...

That's obviously
one of the things

- we've got to look at.
- Yes, we obviously have to look at this

very carefully, indeed, yes.

Well, all right then. What
is the point of the society?

I mean, you've got to have a
point, otherwise there's no point.

- That's a good point.
- That's a very good point.

Yes, that's a good
point, well-made. Hmm.

I mean, are you going to
collect postage stamps?

- Yes.
- Yes, we are.

Yes, we are going to collect
postage stamps, definitely, yes.

Or are you going to
practise Highland Dancing?

- Yes.
- Yes, we'll be doing that as well, yes.

Postage stamps and Highland Dancing
are very high on the society's agenda.

Hardly anything higher on
the agenda than those two.

But you don't know.

- Know what?
- Know what, precisely?

You don't know for certain what
the society's going to be for.

- Well, we've made one or two notes.
- We have made one or two notes, yes.

But unfortunately nothing
to do with the society.

No,
on a completely different matter.

So, to answer your question in
the spirit in which it was asked.

That selfsame spirit.

- We believe that the society should be run...
- We believe, ideally it should be run...

- ...in the interest of its members.
- ...in the interest of its members, really.

- But as we don't have any members...
- You see, we haven't got any members.

- We don't really have any interests.
- So, our hands are tied.

So can you help us?

Can I make a suggestion?

- Oh, that's a good idea, suggestions.
- Now, eureka. Suggestions, yes.

Tuesdays and Thursdays could
be suggestion evenings.

The perfect evenings for suggestions
would be Tuesdays and Thursdays.

No, can I make a suggestion now?

And that is that you come back when you've
decided what the society's going to be for.

I can't stand here
talking all day.

- Now that is a good idea.
- Now, that, yes, you see...

- A society for people who can't stand here...
- They can't stand here...

- ...talking all day.
- ...talking all day and all night.

I mean, when you think of the
people who ring on your bell.

Knock on your bell, yes.

- That's right. Jehovah's Witnesses.
- There are witnesses to the Jehovah's incident.

- Charity collectors, estate agents...
- Charity collectors. Estate agents, another group.

Small boys wanting
their ball back.

Small boys whose ball's accidentally
gone over your fence back.

Would you be interested
in joining such a society?

Erm, I'm going to have
to ask you to leave now.

- Excellent and wonderful.
- Excellent, yes.

- Asking us to leave shows a definite...
- Yes, quite right, too. Marvellous.

- ...and absolute commitment to the aims...
- It does. Absolutely.

- ...of a society for people...
- The goals of a society.

- ...who just can't stand here talking all day.
- For that sort of society.

I'll open the door
and I want you to go.

- Oh, this is wonderful, wonderful commitment.
- Now, you see, what a wonderful member.

I think I may have to ask you if won't
mind being elected our treasurer.

Yes, I'll certainly
vote for you.

- I'm going to shut the door now.
- Right.

- Well, that's one member of our society.
- Yes, one definite member for definite, yes.

- Shall we try next door? Hmm.
- Why don't we try next door?

Well...

Oh, Christ. I've
left the iron on.

Damn it, Peter.

Thanks, John.

This is, what can I
say, this is good work.

Well, I kind of hoped we might be
along the right lines there, you know.

Right lines?

Damn it backwards into
a narrow space, Peter.

This is set to change the face of Uttoxeter
service and leisure industry forever.

Jill reckons that from there to
full plans, 10 days at the most.

Which means we could have the whole
thing up and running by the 29th.

- You mean...
- Exactly, John.

The Derwent Enterprises
Board meeting.

And with something like that
nestling in your hip pocket,

you could really kick some arse.

What's up, John?

I was just thinking, Peter,

can you imagine how Marjorie
is going to react to this?

Well, at a guess,

I'd say she's going to be wilder
than a hungry hellcat in a tornado.

That's putting it mildly, Peter.

Is it?

Yeah, Sarah, what is it?

Hold on.

John, it's Marjorie.

Marjorie?

Talk of the she-devil.

What the hell,
I'll take the call.

It's not a call, John! She's
outside, wants to see you.

- Marjorie, here?
- Check.

Show her in, Sarah.

John, are you out of
your goddamn mind?

You don't know what
it's about, Peter.

Oh, to hell with what
it's about, John!

Peter, we need to talk.

- Where and when?
- Round the table, right now.

I'm on my way.

John, listen. You and I, we've busted
our hump building up this health club

with Marjorie gunning for
us every inch of the way.

Now, now, you're just going
to let her swan in here?

Now, listen to me, Peter...

Oh, listen be damned, John.

Do I have to remind you that that hell-bitch
fiend tried to break us in two, hmm?

Peter...

I'm not going to
let you do it, John.

Hello, John.

Hello, Marjorie.

Peter.

- Marjorie.
- I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Oh, we were, that is, I, that
was, no, we just, I didn't...

Are you all right, Peter? You
look a little uncomfortable.

Yeah, maybe I'll...

Maybe I'll go outside and
get myself a bite of air.

The atmosphere in here seems
to have got to my stomach.

You, er...

You look well, Marjorie.
You look damn well.

New breasts?

Swiss.

They suit you.

I like what you've done to your
hair. It looks much better there.

Thanks, John. You look
pretty fit yourself.

Fit? Yeah!

That's one of the perks of running a
health and leisure business I guess.

That is...

If I do still run it.

The meeting will decide,
John, you know that.

Yeah, but who will decide how
the meeting goes, Marjorie?

Damn it,
old man Ashby's in your pocket,

Dexter and O'Neill will
do what you tell them

and Tim will, well, I guess
Tim will jump with the tide.

Do you still like
it straight up?

Ice, two lumps.

I do what I do for the
boy, John, you know that.

Yeah, the boy.

Have you taught him
to hate me, Marjorie?

Hate you? Hate you?

You'll never really
know me, will you?

Not if I live to be 300.

Peter resents me.

Seven damns and a fat blast, Marjorie!
Haven't you given him cause enough?

Haven't you kept shutting him
out, making him feel an outsider?

Do you need Peter?

Do we need Peter?

Damn it, Marjorie,
what are you after?

Yeah, what are you after?

I just want you to know, that whatever
happens at that meeting this afternoon,

it wasn't personal.
Strictly business.

I still like you, John, a lot.

Come here, you, you,

you Marjorie.

I'll see you round
the boardroom table.

Yeah, round the boardroom
table. Oh, and, Marjorie...

Yes?

Damn you to hell, you're
one hell of a woman.

I know.

Well, you know where to find me.

Marjorie, I...

No, no, John, don't
do it! Don't do it!

Don't you see what
she's trying to...

Damn!

I suppose they'll be saying
Hitler was a racist next.

Er, Moira Stuart.

And Jill Gascoigne.

Neither of them wrote back.
Can you believe these people?

I mean, how much trouble can it be to
just bung a pair of stockings in the post?

Er, letters.

Letters.

- More letters.
- More letters.

- Still more letters.
- Still more letters.

Sorry, we'll be with you in a
moment. Just got some filing to do.

Yes, but while you're waiting,
why not sit back and relax

to the sociable sound of
Joe Loss and His Orchestra.

- Still more letters again.
- More letters again.

- Er, yet further letters.
- Yet further letters.

- Genital fungus.
- Genital fungus.

Oh.

- Oh, dear.
- Oh, dear.

- Now, that's a pity, isn't it?
- Yes.

That's a great disappointment.

So, you know what
this means, don't you?

You know what this... It's
going to mean letters.

Mmm. We mentioned genital
fungus and some of you laughed.

We're now going to get hundreds
of thousands of letters

accusing us of making
fun of genital fungus?

Which is something we never
have and never would do.

Never, never. Some...
Obviously, some of you,

quite a lot in fact, seem to
find genital fungus, well,

amusing in some way.

You know, you're tempted to laugh
at other people's misfortunes.

My name is Stephen Fry
and I'm an alcoholic.

- Here's one, there's one here.
- Oh, no.

This one, I told him that I was
an alcoholic and he laughed.

Alcoholism is one of the most
serious and destructive conditions

prevalent in this country,
and you find it funny!

- Sicko.
- Creep.

My great-aunt
Mutie died in 1944.

She was a good and decent woman!

But her death to you is just a
source of entertainment, isn't it?

Oh.

Please fondle my botty, please?

Thousands of people are dying every year
because no one will fondle their bottoms,

- and you find that funny.
- Er.

- No, no. You see, they're not.
- What?

- Aren't they?
- No, they are not. No.

- Oh, I thought...
- No, well, never mind what you thought.

But no one has ever actually died
from not having their bottom fondled.

Well, I sometimes
feel quite unwell.

Well, yes, that as
may be, but you can't,

you can't blame this woman for
laughing at bottom fondling

because no one genuinely suffers
from it. Oh, highly amusing.

That is not even remotely funny.

- I'm sorry.
- I'm suffering very badly as it goes.

Are you?

I've been told that I'm going
to die within six months,

unless my bottom is fondled.

Satisfied, Hugh?

Oh, bollocks.

Look, I'm sorry to hear about this
desperate condition. Do you need help?

Well, yeah. I mean, I'm at
the end of my tether, mate.

- Yeah. What sort of help do you need?
- Well, you know, I need money.

- Money, yes, what for?
- Well, to buy vital equipment.

Vital equipment. Yeah.

Yeah, a CD player, in fact.

You know how expensive
they are, you know, so.

Yeah. I'll tell you what, if we all put
our hands in our pockets here tonight.

Few pounds, £3 each, something like that.
I'm sure we can raise enough money...

No, wait a minute. Wait a
minute. What is going on here?

We're having a whip-round
to get this man a CD player.

No, no, no, I'm sorry.

No, you, sir, are exploiting the compassion
and generosity of this audience...

- Hugh. Hugh.
- ...frankly. No, no, we're all sorry

that nobody fondles your bottom.

You know, that's a damn shame, but you
can't go using that just to get free hi-fi.

Hugh, you may not be aware of this,
but the new Yamaha 600-RS CD player,

has an electronic arm that comes
out and fondles your bottom.

Oh, God.

Without it, this man will die.

God, I'm so sorry,
I... Well, I mean, I...

Well, what can I do?

Well, you can fondle
his bottom for starters.

Well, it's only fair.