Original subtitles

Sorry I'm late.

Dave, what's happened to your lip?

Well, it was a lovely morning, so I thought I'd walk in.

I came through the park. The sun was shining.

A light mist hung over the lake. I was feeding the ducks.

It was lovely.

And then I said good morning to a couple of schoolkids.

Still, not to worry. They take the stitches out next week.

The us election results are tonight.

Clinton or dole...

..Do we care?

Well, Helen, which one would you rather have running the world, hm?

A man for whom special relationship means

telling Britain about the war he started

five minutes after the four-minute warning,

or a man for whom special relationship means

a particularly good shag?

Dave, are you going to be all right for a drink tonight?

There's a new salsa bar I want to try

with waitresses with legs up to their armpits,

and ankles up to my ears, with any luck.

No, er, sorry, mate, I'm seeing someone.

You know, Julie, from legal.

What? Still? Again?

Yeah, I know, it has been a while.

But she's a laugh. You'll see when you meet her.

She's coming to the dog track with us.

What?

But that's boys' night out.

Just the two of us. It's tradition.

14 pints, a curry, a club, a fight, a shag and home.

It's what Western civilisation was built on.

You don't bring your totty along. Look, she is not my totty.

Well, I mean, she is, but, erm...

Oh, I don't know, Henry, there's something different about this one.

I keep catching myself grinning for no apparent reason.

I've never done that before. Good god, man!

Get a grip of yourself.

You'll be saying it's serious next.

Yeah.

I have a feeling it might be.

Oh, bugger!

Telephone rings

yeah?

No, she's not.

Oh, if you must.

Her appointment's changed to 11:30.

No strenuous exercise beforehand.

Well, that's thinking out, then.

Who's calling?

Right.

Thank you, god.

Well, judging by the grin on your face,

I'd say Sally's house has burnt down.

Oh, much, much better.

She's having cosmetic surgery.

You're kidding?!

It'll be the only face-lift in history

where the bits they throw away are more attractive than what's left.

Shh, shh, she's coming.

Er, message for you, Sally. Thank you, joy.

Right.

Oh, Sally, I think I've got something in my eye.

What? My nose!

Oh, for god's sake, I am not having a face-lift!

Sorry I'm late, everybody.

The trains weren't running. Again.

The signalling cables have been gnawed through

by a family of badgers.

I wish I could drive in.

Well, why don't you? I haven't got a car.

Look, George, I'm being given a new car by a bunch of merchant wankers

I did a corporate for recently.

So, my jag is up for sale.

Oh, I don't know, Henry.

I mean, a Jaguar...

Come off it, Henry.

I mean, jaguars are just a big, expensive, powerful toys.

Exactly.

They're fast, sleek, classy.

George isn't going to be interested in something like that, now, is he?

No, he's more of a beige,

knobbly seat-covered triumph dolomite kind of guy.

Ok, Henry, how much?

Oh, ten grand.

All right, I'll try it.

Excellent. Take it for a spin at lunchtime.

And remember, George...

..30 miles an hour is a speed limit,

not something to aspire to.

Sally...

..About this cosmetic surgery.

Have you really thought about it?

You don't need it.

You've got a lovely figure already.

You have very nice breasts.

Not that I'm saying that I like your breasts.

I don't.

And it's not that I dislike them.

It's just that I'm not interested in them, if you see...

Look, they really aren't that saggy.

I'm not having that.

I'm having some liposuction.

Really?

But your stomach's as flat as a pancake.

It's not my stomach! Of course not.

But your bottom really is as firm as a woman's bottom can be.

It's not that, either.

If you must know, I'm having a little resculpting around the thigh.

What?

Well, who the hell is going to see your thighs under a newsdesk?

Well, there was the rumour about that floor manager

during the election special.

Not helpful, Henry.

Oh, George!

So, are you going to buy it?

Let's, er, wait and see, shall we?

Joy's just checking it over mechanically for me.

Although, I must say, it was good to be back motoring again.

Oh, and I saw a dreadful example of that road rage whilst I was out.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I always thought

you were supposed to wait until the lights turned green

before engaging first gear, releasing the handbrake,

checking your mirror, indicating and then moving off

at a speed suitable for the prevailing conditions.

So, I don't know what all that language was about.

What is an f-ing arsewipe anyway?

Ok, George, it needs new brake pads

and there's a slight oil leak from the sump.

Oh, and there was a bunch of flowers stuck in the suspension arms.

Oh, yes, they'll be from when I took a shortcut through that graveyard.

Anyway, other than that, it seems ok.

So, George, what about it?

What's that?

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

No, it's triumph dolomite man!

Faster than a speeding hamster!

All right, Henry, it's a deal.

I'll sort out a banker's draft this afternoon.

I told you I could get him to buy it.

Oh, this is ridiculous.

Why is the British foreign secretary

paying attention to some grimy little footballer?

Hey?

Well, look, it says here that this Sunday

Malcolm rifkind is visiting gazza.

Gaza, Sally.

Yes.

Well, obviously, I knew that.

Knock on door

listen, er, George...

..You've been in a long-term relationship.

I was married for 18 years.

I don't know that you'd call it a relationship, though.

Why?

Well, it's just that, for the first time since...

..Well, since Helen,

I feel that Julie is someone I can settle down with.

Possibly.

You know, make a go of it.

Perhaps.

It's just that, well...

..How do you know when it's the right decision to commit to someone?

Ah, Dave...

It's marvellous when mr love comes to call, isn't it?

A warm, cuddly feeling spreading right through you.

And, you know, it's totally overwhelming.

Like being knocked down by a plumber

you've just accused of charging you for things he hasn't used.

And it's quite normal to feel a little nervous about it.

I know I had the same worries when Margaret and I first got together.

But after a while you felt better about it?

No.

She slurps loudly

do you have to do that?

I'm just getting you ready for your appointment tomorrow.

Listen up, scooper troopers!

I have an important announcement.

Globelink has been granted exclusive rights

to broadcast a full-length in-depth interview with...

..The duchess of York!

Oh...!

The duchess?

Coming here?

When? The day after tomorrow.

Did you hear what I said?

Yes.

But, Gus, I can't interview her then. I'm...

..On holiday.

It's all right, Henry's doing it. No, he bloody isn't.

What?

Henry, think what it could do for your career.

That's what I am doing. Oh, brilliant!

The coup of the year

and my two top front-line assault troops are unavailable.

I'll bet the makers of panorama

didn't encounter all this negativity

when they interviewed princess Diana.

You're wrong, actually, Gus. The production team hated doing it.

It was a nightmare.

Yeah, I've seen the outtakes.

There's four where she forgets her lines.

Two where she bursts out giggling.

And one where will carling walks through the back of shot

in his underpants.

So, Dave, tell us about this new girl.

There's nothing to tell.

We know you've been seeing her for at least six weeks.

That's like 70 years in human terms.

Is she married?

If you're not gonna ask intelligent questions, you can leave.

Yes, she's married. But her divorce comes through next week.

Oh, well, on to the next one, then.

What do you mean? Well, she'll be single.

You never get involved with anyone

who could conceivably want to get involved back, that's all.

No, this will be different. Julie's special.

I really feel that this is, well, it.

Maybe.

And you'll mess it up by screwing somebody else.

I won't. It'll be different with her.

Oh, look at the evidence.

Your track record's about as reliable as railtrack's.

Track record in what? Fidelity.

Dave reckons he can be faithful to this new woman of his.

Leave the poor man alone. He's got nothing to be ashamed of.

Thank you, Henry.

After all, it's not as if it's something he's got any control over.

He's programmed by his genes. What?

Genes. Genes want to survive.

A man is just a machine genes use

to disseminate themselves as widely as possible.

You can try and be faithful as hard as you like,

but then your genes begin to get a bit nervous.

They decide it's time to go on the rampage,

mindlessly impregnating every available woman.

You can't control your genes.

They're like millwall supporters in benidorm.

It's just nature.

What utter cobblers.

I can control my own destiny,

and Julie and I will be very monogamously happy together.

All right, all right.

Ridiculous theory.

"Men are genetically predestined to be promiscuous."

What are you editing?

A history of the Kennedys.

George...!

Where the hell have you been?

My new car broke down.

Apparently, the gearbox is, and I quote, "bolloxed".

Really? I had to be towed here.

I asked you to check it over for me.

Oh, am I a professional mechanic?

"Give it a quick once-over," is what you said.

You shouldn't have been in such a hurry to get a penis substitute.

Oh, fine!

Well, I'm afraid, Henry, the new gearbox is going to cost �2,000.

Well, I'm not paying for it.

But it must've been like that before I bought it.

Tough tits.

You should have had it checked over properly.

Caveat emptor.

Which is Latin for, "get stuffed."

Sally...

Erm, about this liposuction at your clinic.

Well, I think I may have found an alternative for you.

It's easier.

It's quicker.

And it could save you quite a lot of money.

Really? What is it?

Hoover whirs loudly

I need a snappy description of Michael portillo

for tonight's piece.

A devil worshipper who robs old ladies and shags chickens.

Normally, honesty is Paramount for me.

But in his case, I'll make an exception.

I think we're all acquainted with your standards of honesty.

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

You owe me a new gearbox! Oh, I'm scared.

Oh, will you shut up, both of you?

I just thought you would have had a little more honour.

You can't let it drop, can you?

I could do. Couldn't.

I could! Couldn't!

All right! George, listen...

I've got this friend who could drop in a second-hand gearbox for you.

It'll probably only cost you a couple of hundred quid.

What friend?

Norman. He runs a breaker's yard.

I met him when I did that piece

about how dealers weld together two write-offs

and then flog it as a new car.

I thought he went to prison. No.

The judge ruled that his trial had been prejudiced...

..By a TV report.

Oh, yes.

I remember the fine.

Do you want me to phone him? No.

I want it done properly!

It's Henry's responsibility and he should pay!

Well, Henry ain't paying diddly squat.

Yes, Gus?

Damien, we're different, you and me.

We're not like the helens and georges and daves.

We embrace new challenges.

When mr opportunity comes knocking, we bring him in, sit him down,

give him a double whiskey.

We're not afraid of scaling new heights.

I'm not doing it. Oh, but...

I am not interviewing her!

I'm Damien day.

I report on war zones, major disasters, cataclysmic events.

Not fatuous book-plugging sloanes

who are too stupid even to stay in the royal family!

Perhaps I didn't make myself quite clear.

If you don't do this interview,

then Yorkshire water will find out exactly how that reservoir

came to have 50% less water in it than it did the day before.

Oh, bloody hell...!

And how is your friend now?

She's still off work.

She had exactly the same op as you're having.

And even just sitting down is agony.

And then there's the bruising.

Great purple swathes of it.

Your thighs will look like raspberry ripples.

And that's if it all goes well. Didn't you see Hollywood women?

There was one woman whose buttocks just melted.

Look...

..The truth is, I worry about getting...

..Less young.

I mean, it probably doesn't mean much to you.

But to someone in my position, it's crucial.

I've only got my looks.

But your looks aren't going.

You look fabulous.

And just think of all that agony.

Well, perhaps you're right.

Maybe if I just went down the gym more often.

I suppose it would be better for me.

Good.

And, Sally...

..Take the days off anyway.

Unwind.

See your friends.

Well, enjoy yourself, anyway.

Who is that?

Susan from the Manchester studio.

She's standing in for Sally while she's having her thighs sandblasted.

Now, Russia. It's a bit of a worry.

The latest medical reports say

yeltsin can only work 15 minutes a day.

Well, that's hardly a problem, is it? He's management.

Henry, you've been out drinking with yeltsin.

Which probably explains his current state.

Can you do us a two-minute profile on him for tomorrow?

Yes, of course.

Are you sure you can rely on Henry?

He seems to have difficulty fulfilling responsibilities.

Henry, you're going to have to do something about George's car

and stop him going around looking like a man who's just heard

his son is marrying Paula yates.

Call himself a greyhound? I've seen daffodils run faster.

So, where's this lady of yours, then?

I'm dying to meet her. I don't know what's happened.

We said in the bar an our ago. There isn't another bar, is there?

No. Very odd. Still, never mind.

Maybe she had something more important to do.

What do you mean, more important? What could be more important?

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.

Ah, there's Susan!

You didn't tell me she was coming.

I thought, since you are bringing Julie, I'd make up a foursome.

Henry.

And hello again, Dave.

Hi.

Well, this is nice, isn't it, hm?

A fun night out.

He yawns

still, it's time an old duffer like me was off.

What? You're not leaving me here with her?

Why not?

It's not that you don't trust yourself, surely?

No, no.

I hardly know her.

Dave, don't worry.

You're right, she is a very attractive married woman.

But you don't do that any more, do you? You've got Julie.

Or you would have, had she bothered to turn up.

Ciao. Henry...

So, Dave...

..I've heard a lot about you.

You look like you need cheering up.

Are you going to buy me a drink, then?

Yeah, all right. Why not?

Morning, royal scoopers!

The duchess will be here in t minus five minutes.

Damien, ready to grasp the moonbeam of opportunity

and warp yourself into the future?

Yeah. Terrific.

When she arrives, you'll be in the line-up next to me.

You shake her by the hand, bow... I what?

You shake her by the hand, bow... oh, no!

No way!

I am not bowing to some jumped-up ginger slapper!

And sod Yorkshire water!

Damien, I'm ordering you to bow to her! Damien...!

Oh, Dave...

Sorry about last night. I don't suppose you were far behind.

You probably just had one quiet drink and then home.

Not exactly. No?

No. We had a few drinks. We went back to Susan's hotel room.

And we fucked liked rabbits.

Oh... oh, dear.

So much for me being a one-woman man.

When it comes to pointless legovers,

my trousers beat Peter stringfellow's

in a photo finish to the floor.

Still, at least it's proved one thing, you're all right,

it'll never work with me and Julie. She deserves better than me.

Are you all right, Henry? Oh, yes.

I thought you were taking a couple of days off.

Yes, I left something at my desk.

Is the duchess of York here yet?

Sally!

Thank god you're here!

Now, that's something you don't hear every day.

You can interview the duchess. Really?!

Well, if you think I'm right for it.

Oh, yes, of course.

The perfect choice.

Oh, all right, Gus.

Actually, I do have a personal insight into her already.

We once shared the same foot spa at champneys.

Excellent!

Julie, what are you...? I was worried about you.

What happened last night? What do you mean? What happened to you?

I got this message saying we weren't meeting at catford dog track.

We'd switched to wimbledon. I waited hours!

Well, I didn't leave a mes...

Er, look, it doesn't matter.

Listen, erm...

I've got something to tell you. Come with me.

George...?

What's the matter?

I just went down to the car park to get something from my car.

And...?

It's not there.

It was there earlier.

It's gone.

Stolen.

For god's sake, my car's been stolen!

I know. I stole it.

What?!

Well, I say I. I arranged for it to disappear.

Damien's friend in the motor business was most useful.

But I don't understand.

Well, you claim on insurance and get a new car,

complete with working gearbox.

You stupid, old sod!

I had the gearbox replaced yesterday!

Well, you said you weren't going to do anything about it,

so I thought, as usual, I'm going to have to cough up in the end,

so, why wait?

�2,000 it cost me.

Damien... way ahead of you.

Who are you phoning? Norman.

He can't have got far.

Norman, it's Damien.

Listen, that jag you kindly towed away for me this morning.

Returning it wouldn't be a problem, would it?

Well...

..It could be a bit of a problem, yeah.

When's he going to return it?

Er, he says he can't return it.

It's developed more faults.

What sort of faults?

Well, there's a bit of a problem with the suspension.

Damien, if I'm not getting that car back, you owe me �2,000!

Now, look, hang on a minute. It was Henry's idea.

But it was your incompetent execution of said idea.

Yeah, well, I'm not bloody paying for it!

Well, somebody's going to pay for it!

Quiet! T minus one minute!

Sally, you'll be in the line-up next to me.

Now, when she comes in, you curtsy...

I don't think that will be necessary. Oh, not you as well!

You've got to curtsy. Like this...

It's just that I'd rather not, that's all.

You've had the liposuction, haven't you?

Don't be ridiculous.

All right, then...

..Sit.

I'd rather stand.

Sit!

Oh, very well.

Oh, all right, I had it done! And why not?!

And now she's literally tight-arsed!

You're a fine one to talk about being tight!

I'm �2,000 out of pocket and it's your fault!

And joy's! And Damien's! You're not getting a cent from me.

She's here! She's here!

Oi!

I'm engaged!

Oh, shit!

I never realised she was so vulgar. Mm.

Not often you hear a joke that can make Henry blush.

Endlessly name-dropping. I mean, we've all met Chris de burgh.

And those horrible fat thighs.

Well, at least she could sit down.

I shall be fine by six.

And incidentally, Helen, I'm as caring as the next person,

but do we have to lead with the Rwandan refugees again?

I mean, there can't be that many of them left.

Well, let's ignore black people killing each other altogether.

Yeah, I'd go along with that.

Mm, you and the un.

Still, at least there's good news on the middle east peace effort.

I see there's been an apology for violence from gazza.

Sally...

Oh, god, there's no paper in here!

Duchess of York: Er, there's a spare one here.

Thank you, your royal highness!

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