Original subtitles

I know it's a software jet, never thought to fail

I know it's a software jet, spent an night in jet

Singing boats for women, it's just a beginning

You haven't seen anything yet

I know it's a software jet

Day one

Our sisters in suffrage have gone on hunger strike

I have determined to join them in this valiant action

Already my mind is beset by hallucinations

Well once I gave a bun, scant attention

Now it haunts my every thought

I dreamt last night, I was queen of a land of buns

My consort of Osbud, a giant bun

With buns for cheeks, a bun loaves and small bun teeth

Oh, how the mind maddens as the body weakens

Oh, Barbara, what are you doing sin here in the dark?

Oh, Eva, I was just writing my account of our hunger strike

In support of women's suffrage

Of course you were

It will be published in the parish newsletter

Imagine how many people will read of our suffrage starboard film

About 10, 50 in it a push

I'm all prepared for our hunger strike

How long have you been starving for?

Well, I meant to begin yesterday

Only we had a dinner engagement that we couldn't cancel

So I resolved in earnest to begin this morning

Only Cook hadn't been told

So I felt obliged to finish the breakfast kegery

And Osbud's sausage would have gone to waste

So, in all just over an hour

Well, don't worry, I bought some of my little ones leftovers

From their 11s, in case we got hungry

Yes, well, that is rather the point, Eva

What if we're being hungry

As a weapon of passive persuasion

You can't do that on an empty stomach

But we meant to starve together

I'm sure your ladies in prison sneak a little cake when no one's looking

I fasted for a whole month during Ramadan

When I was a guest of the Sultan of Egypt and Sudan

Of course, when the sun went down

We couldn't get enough of feasting and hookers

Oh, Margaret, won't you even have a finger sandwich here?

Take out the ham, make it even thinner

Erm, no

A mortal thoughtlessly sneaks past my lips like

Me a butter sandwich, hardly an actual food

But, still, I feel a creeping cramp of guilt

It might just be the rumble, tell me some more

Quick! Someone's coming

Put the food away

Good day, fellow activists

I'll go to the fast

No, no, no

Well done you for remembering Thomas

Yes, sir, I started two days ago as we agreed

Yes, it was

And as you can see, I have made this aid stavwa

Yes, I'm calling it the Calendulator of famish

How does it work?

Well, I simply enquire as to your level of hunger

And then I mark the chart appropriately

Yes, I've categorized the stages of human hunger from replete through peckish

I could eat all the way up to a death door

I, for example, having fasted for two days now

Famished, almost starving

Erm, I would say I was almost hungry

I could eat?

Yes, why not?

Put me down as replete

I like the sound of that

What about you, Mertle?

Eat a horse!

No!

Always!

How do, er, sorry, I'm late, er, parched as cheese shop on the high street

With having a closing down sale

Oh, would you get anything?

Yes!

Oh, hah!

Oh, my goodness, go in!

Is that all cheese?

Let's mark it, sir, there was quite a scrum

Yes, sir, so I got, erm, slilting

Dovdale, Vloxsticks Blue, Van Brie Bog

Oh, oh!

Best handle that one, Care Filly, Gwen

Oh, very good master cholos

I don't get it

Er, Red Lester, Double Gloucester, Derby, Worcester, Harroford, Joshua

That's just the hard cheese

Yeah, the leaning tower of Cheezer

Very good master cholos

I don't get it

Only Gwen, we are somewhat on hunger strike

Oh, oh, Cleeam forgot, I'm so sorry Margaret

Don't wiggle, I do, the, well, these softer ones won't keep

Oh, don't worry Gwen

Oh, perhaps I could do something suffragery with them, er, perhaps mould them into a bust of, er, er, millicent force it

Yes!

I must say all this cheese chat is becoming rather grating

I come and bear it any longer

Very good master cholos

I don't get it

I must be delirious with hunger

Would it be ever so against the rules if I was just a munch of crummer stilton

I for one can't be nearer cheese and not eat it

Just a taste

Oh, just cheese even counters food when it's not between bread

Yes, yes, I, I feel it does

Cheese being technically an edible solid

Yes, yes, of course, of course, we must be strong for zapfruit

Put the cheese away Gwen, put the cheese away

I am to blame

Oh, I'm like Satan in the wilderness, tempting our lord

Jesus Christ

Oh, very good master cholos

I still don't get it

I'll just pop them under the bell end in the kitchen for now

The bell what Gwen?

The bell end, you know, the, the, the cheesy bell end

Give me the cheese bell jar

Do I?

I do, yes

Feeling? Strangely full

Perhaps I've reached that physical plateau of starvation

Where a body, denied sustenance, begins to eat itself

Emily, whatever's the matter?

Mother, not content to try and depart me off on the spoon maker's son

Now plans to marry me to the spoon maker's second son

But isn't that bigger me or whatever it's called with men? Big many? Too many?

I am not a commodity to be bought and sold

I will be made for love

To one who is not too shy to requite to that love

What?

Is it John T. Smith?

Bertie Smith

John T. Smith was secretly married to an actress last month and disinherited for it

Oh dear, and is this Bertie nice?

I don't know, and I don't care

He probably thinks that women shouldn't read or drive or weld or hunger strike

Well, I shall refuse him

What will you do Emily?

Will you will hope?

To the Polynesian Islands?

No, I shall hide in the kitchen

How could it help?

Expect Emily to marry a man she's never met

Well, I didn't know my Charlie when we married and now you can hardly tell we've got nothing in common except 14 children

But Emily loves...

Toss

Please, no, we are your allies in this endeavor

The hunger strike, yes

No, I'm talking for... certainly young lady

Oh? Oh

Be brave

Love's highway is never smooth

The tarmac atom is full of holes and highwaymen lurk at every bend

You have such a way with metaphor

Yes, I find it invaluable for conveying meaning without having to make it at all clear what it is I'm saying

Yes, so if I, for example, had something to tell someone?

Yes, you might talk about something else

As if that were the thing that you were talking about and not the actual thing at all

What are you telling the boys?

Do you want Thomas to stay a unit?

While Emily is being spooned rigid by Bertie Smolke

I'm nearly advocating subtlety

All the romance of words can satisfy the soul until the body is... prone

Thomas, there is nothing noble about letting your grapes wither on the vine

Whilst everyone else is like getting a regular pressy

Go in and tell her

In a roundabout way

Oh, for goodness sake, don't listen to Margaret

Go in and tell Emily exactly how you feel

I can pull to sit down and make it into a chest rub for mother

Have you heard Gwen? I'm to be married

Oh, congratulations

I never thought you'd have it in you to ask, Master Thomas

He didn't

Oh dear, I am sorry

Oh, look out! Bambry Bogolart!

Best put this honk or something, I'm safe

To shield your nostrils from the pong

What about your nostrils?

They can endure

In truth, they would suffer the seven solvers of hell to protect that which they cherish

Yes, and whom do your nostrils cherish?

Oh, Miss Emily

They are but simple nostrils

Neither wealthy nor ambitious

But they would gladly give all they have

Yes, but to whom would your nostrils give all that?

Emily, I confess I'm not really talking about nostrils

I know

When I say nostrils, I mean, I mean

Yes, I'm here, I'm here

Oh, I have great news

Where is Emily?

She's at Thomas in the kitchen

What?

Helen, might you not listen?

No

Emily

Why is this door locked?

I'm not coming out

I refuse to be bartered like a side of beef

Bertie Smuth is the most eligible battler in the northeast

Now heir to the Smuth Spoon Manufacturing Empire

He's quite the finest match a butte girl could make

He has no poodle faking wrist flop

I sure will not live an inch

I should rather die than marry a horrible spoon tycoon

Enough of this nonsense, Thomas come out at once

As for you young lady

Emily, Emily open this hatchet once

I blame your womany, politicking and high idealzing

A young girl of society should be concerned with hem lines, table mats and the cost of iron ore

Not wasting her youth changing the world

Emily simply wishes for a love match

She is after all a beacon of the new generation

One who refuses to be passed like chattel from father to spouse

And can she not through our efforts at the co-face of suffragism

Exercise free will in love?

As in all things?

No

Remember whom you are addressing

Helen, the only woman to have insisted on not marrying for love

Yes, I made it quite clear to Lawrence

that when I use the word love in the wedding vows

he should mentally replace it with like

I wonder what he mentally replaces it with now

Emily, you have exactly one English minute to come out

One Mrs. Beaten, two Mrs. Beaten, three Mrs. Beaten

Do not be down hearted twice

Though your ship of love is in peril on the high seas

I shall tether you to the mast, seize the rudder and steer you into...

Oh my goodness

Good afternoon

Oh, it is now

Please, forgive the interruption, I was looking for the lady's butte

My name is Smooth, Bertie Smooth

Oh, Master Bertie, I am Helen Butte, I am intrepid of you to find us

Yes, I am a smooth the sleuth

I followed a trail of broken twigs and disturbed leaves and the scent of...

Heliotrop?

That is my perfume

And I asked the Sashimaster if he knew where you were

Oh, you!

Come, hang on, coat

Why, look at that

It's rather like Emily's

Ah, then she must be a young lady of enormously good taste

Come, need us all

This is my mother, I'm afraid

I know, we look like sisters

An honor and a pleasure

Of course it is, thank you mother

And this is Mrs. Eva Moore of the Cotswogne was

Oh, forgive my looking like a pudding

I'm normally much slimmer and even prettier

No, you are a vision

Da Vinci's Madonna and child ace for motto beauty

No, Master Bertie, stop trying to turn my head with fancy French talk

Italian and Margaret Ahmed

Oh, hello up there, you are so tall

And Bonjour, no to you down there

Will you take tea with us please?

I should love to

What, how?

Smooth Bertie's mood

Come on, squish'n

Sorry, did I squish your hand?

No, ganglions

I am a brute

Curse these beastly paws

Ah!

I rather hoped I might meet Miss Emily, is she not here?

Yes, she's in the kitchen, she's very domesticated

And also very learned?

It is nearly as pretty as me

Look, you can see for yourself

Don't tell him I'm in here

What? Oh, worry

Mind your head on the lint hall with your astonishing tallness

Thanks awfully

What?

Here she is, Vesta, goddess of the heart

Oh, hello, it's sorry but I'm not Vesta

Then you are Hijia, goddess of cleanliness and health

Oh, no, I'm not

I know, you are Emily, of course

Bertie's mood at your service

Oh, what? What a funny mistake

How could I be Emily?

She's there under the table

Ah! The table, she speaks

No, no, that was Emily

I...

Erm, Emily, butte

Ah, a confusion worthy of Miss Austin

Bertie's smooth at your service

You read Jane Austen?

I do

But please don't tell anyone or you'll ruin my reputation as a terrible rogue

Oh, Vesta, Bertie, you can never be a terrible rogue

Oh, you're far too smartly turned out

What? That will not do, I shall have to rough myself up

Oh, what?

See, an utter ruffian

Help!

I knew they'd be a perfect match

My instinct's never wrong

Other than always

Don't be downhearted

No, no

He may be dashing in altogether wonderful in every way

But I don't think he would make Emily happy

No?

Enough virginal blushing

You were set to seduce Emily

Mrs von Hekling, I cannot

I cannot even speak

My mouth partures my tongue turns to rubber

Then right, the written word constura girls desire

Every bit as much as a sensual whisper

Yes, perhaps something from the first Corinthians chapter 13

Oh!

I confess I have written a poem

It's loaded with my deepest yearnings

Oh, could be you

Now, John Chance Thomas, go!

Oh, he's a master-firty, the most amusing young gentleman we have ever, ever met

And he was in the Gilbert and Sullivan society

He has a very fine falsetto

You're too kind

Shall I be mother?

Oh, no, no, no

Let Gwen, I hope you see you are our most estimated guest

At least I can be chair monitor, Thomas, will you sit?

Yes

I shall fetch another

An orange pico, I believe

Yes, how did you know?

I could taste a pico at 20 paces with a clothes peg on my nose

I'm so sorry, I've only brought two ginger snaps

We're all on hungry strike, otherwise I might have offered you a poppy seed nibble

Or a rosemary fancy, or perhaps even a plate of frilled ham or a buttered finger sandwich

John Clemens relish in a spread of crust

Oh, Stoglin, you're tormenting us

Perhaps a tea will slake the void

Oh, the tea's not the same without a biscuit to bolster it

Just remember, Eva, we are starving for suffrage

I'm not

Adorable, but ladies, such unbearable pervasions

I know, and we have a rye-beezington log that badly wants eating in the kitchen

Thomas says we're not allowed

Thomas says we're not allowed

Surely cheese is merely a hardened form of milk, therefore hardly a food stuff?

Oh, Master Bertie, you're so clever

Was there ever a happier sound than that of ladies nibbling cheese?

Master Bertie, should I fracture some?

Yes, cheese

Oh, very good, Master Bertie

I get it

Cheese!

This whole wrist striking is much easier than they make it sound

All right, when, but no crackers

My father senses regards

Oh, how is dear Habakkuk?

Quite well, his new bowl casting device has increased output from 300 to 700 spoons per day

Well, people will always need spoons

If you'll excuse me, I might take this moment to step out

Thomas, would you care to join me for a cigarette?

No, thank you, I don't

Such a masculine habit

Lawrence smoked in his youth

It was one of the many qualities I admired

The others being punctuality, solvency and a thick neck

I look forward to making Mr. Butte's acquaintance

Oh, rest assured, Lawrence approves wholeheartedly of the match

He's drawing up contracts as we speak

Mother?

Well, pending the formality of a proposal, the conclusion is quite foregone, is it not?

How very romantic

Shall I have much to discuss my return?

Excuse me

Yes, Cheese! Yes, Cheese!

Are you one well, Thomas?

No, Mrs. Unwin, I have written a poem for Emily

No!

But I feel Butte has discovered it

Oh, no, no, this is good

Now, Bertie will know your true feelings and leave our family

Thomas?

Thomas?

Might I have a word in private, please?

He means to fight leave our family

Oh dear, he is an athlete

You are not Thomas if you love something very much, let it go

For goodness sake, be a man

Tell him you stand by every word

Or I could just stay here

Thomas?

I found your outpouring in my pocket

I stand by every word, you brilliant fool

Perhaps I am a fool, but I should rather be a fool for love than for any other thing that makes me a fool for it

You realise you can go to jail for this?

Really? Why?

Well, if love is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the key

For I'm guilty, my lad, on all counts

You are very just loom-tic

Bertie will pulverise, Thomas, we mustn't leave

Wait, wait, I wouldn't be so sure

You would take violent advantage of a man half-starved?

I am a holy star, but your words, Thomas, have filled my belly with death

But God and a bud stiffened with proud beauty

I wander through the swaying stems

One little head catches my eye, would I could give you that head that you may smell yourself?

Thomas?

Thomas?

Thomas?

Thomas?

Is that a wrestling maneuver?

I knew it! Margaret, he's a Marianne!

Who's Marianne?

I suppose you have another lady, friend

Thomas?

Thomas?

Ah! The boy fainted, and I caught him, please, that is a private doodle

Oh, look!

Thomas forgot to dedicate his poem to Emily

Emily?

Yes, poor Thomas was so love-lorn, he thought a romantic ode might help him win her back

So the poem was not meant for...

Thomas?

No judging too harshly, he's a fragile soul

But Emily does not return his affection?

Well, she does when her head's not turned by someone altogether, more tall and astonishing

Yes, well, I suppose the wheels are betrothed all our emotion?

Who are we to defy the butte smooth merger?

Please don't throw your life away on useless notions of honor and duty

No good will come of a loveless marriage, look at Margaret!

Would you rather gorge right plums in the sunshine?

Or slurp briny oysters in the rain?

Hmm, come on, not have both?

Have one?

Well, maybe not in the same sitting.

Oh, Mrs. One heckling, how the Lord despises lovers of plums!

Oh, don't you think there's anything in the statute about plums?

I could be wrong.

I know a place where young men are free to eat all fruits

To go about open-shirted trousers rolled up, feet quite bare

Oh, the sun blanches the soft downy hair of their muscular brown bodies

And the hot nights are filled with the ozzamatoria

Oh, of it?

It is a place of people neither here nor there, but somewhere in between

It's Northampton

Careful, Lou, on the island of Sicily

I have a friend there, Mr. Crowley, a Uranian of seat who can take you

And coax you to full expression

I wish

Oh, no, don't wish, go!

Live here. Take this book as a token of introduction

I keep a copy with me always

I'll have to do it

Ciao for Lou, you say?

I'm always said I should travel

The Grand Tour can last a lifetime, you know

I should explain to Mrs. Butte

I will handle Helen

Right, wonderful. I mean, it's for the best, isn't it?

Goodbye, Bertie

Thank you, thank you, and...bye

Bye!

Oh, fuck!

Mertel, yes.

You may not understand and forgive me if I shock you, but I think that Bertie might be a touch homosexual

I know, it's shocking, isn't it?

Who are we to condemn love?

Be it man for man or woman for woman?

Oh, woman for many men?

Yes, quite.

What are we going to tell poor Emily?

Where my old wedding dress?

Oh, what's this?

Young Thomas, having challenged Bertie to fight for Emily's hand, has soundly beaten.

Young smooth.

What? No, it's bad he hurt.

Er, no, he ran away. He couldn't match such mortal passion.

Er, he said to say, erm, sorry, and...bye!

What shall we come with, Emily?

Do you think the smooths are made of suns?

What's this?

Emily's grave protector!

Yes, he flainted clear away from the exertion of fisticuffs on an empty stomach.

Thomas?

Oh, Thomas.

Wait. I know.

What have you done, mother?

I, Bertie.

Bertie's smooth come back!

Of course, some fun for a bog!

Oh! That would wait the dead!

That's how I go.

He's alive!

Thomas, I thought I'd lost you.

I remember. Bertie's smooth.

Holding me in his arms.

He smelled of high-sense.

Yes, erm, he's hallucinating. Apply more bog, Emily.

Oh, Emily, miss Emily.

Oh, Thomas, I'm so sorry. It's just Bertie was so strong and brilliant

and you so flimsy and mewling.

Now that you've made him go, I...

I'm glad.

Oh, do you mean that?

Yes.

Do you really?

I did just say so.

Miss Emily, you must know. I... I do so love.

Yes?

I do love.

Yes?

I do so love.

Cheese.

I love to use two, Thomas.

Very much.

Now...

Bertie's smooth has entirely gone.

How very queer.

As our first hunger strike casualty recovers,

I reflect on the hardships of self-denial.

I have only had a small taste of the suffragettes' privations,

but it has brought me close to our cause

and taught me that in desires of the heart, mind and stomach,

we are all created equal.

A woman or man may want...

Cheese, Margaret.

Oh, yes, please, Bert.

LAUGHTER