All language subtitles for Porridge - 03x04 - Pardon Me.eng

DOORS SLAM
'Norman Stanley Fletcher...

'You have pleaded guilty
to the charges brought and it is
now my duty to pass sentence...

'You are a habitual criminal
who accepts arrest as an
occupational hazard,

'and presumably accepts
imprisonment in the same,
casual manner.

'We therefore commit you
to the maximum term allowed.

'You will go to prison for 5 years.'

Er...1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...8.

Huh! Would you Adam-and-Eve-it...
"Go to jail!"

"Move directly to jail.
Do not pass Go..."

Just get on wiv it!
All right... All right!

I know every card. I've been playing
for donkey's years.

You don't have to get so grumpy!

My go. Three and four's seven.

All right...I can count!
I may be old but I've got
all my facilities, haven't I?

Four, five, six, seven...

Oh, I've knocked a hotel off!
Reach me it, will you, Fletch?

Come off it, Blanco!
I know that ploy of old.

Ploy...!?

While I'm down here picking up
your hotel, you help yourself.
I lose Trafalgar and Fenchurch St!

That's a lie! I'm not like you lot.
You take cheating as a way of life.

I've got an older man's sense
of values.

If you don't care about my sciatic
nerve, I'll get the hotel meself!
I'm sorry. Listen...

Honestly, I'm sorry.
We're all so corrupt, we forget
about the odd honest soul.

That's right. You do.
I'll get it for you. Thank you.

I can't see it anywhere. It doesn't
matter, Fletch. I'll get it.

All right, then.

No more talk about cheating.
Let's get on with the game.
Right. Right.

Now, then...

My go. Yes. Oh, I should be
in jail! That's right. I've got
to stay cos I've an odd number.

Your go. My go.

You want 7 to land on my hotel.
Oh, no...

Ten! I'll miss you! I'll miss you!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!
Don't have a heart attack.
Get your Chance card. Right!

What's Barrowclough doing?
Looking for criminals(!) Yes.

He wants to look down here.
No, no - that's your Raquel Welch -
your Community Chest. Oh.

"Go back three spaces." Oh, yes?

Here we go... One, two, three...
Oh, no...!! Oh, dear, dear...(!)

Vine Street with one hotel,
that'll be ten hundred pounds.

How much?
I will accept a thousand.

Oh, me back! Never mind,
let's have your bank balance.

STILL playing? They could make
the Guinness book of records.
It's stalemate.

Double 7. I'm out.
Come on. It's lock-up
in five minutes.

Other people want to use the board.
You two "monopolise" the game(!)

"Monopolise." Get it?

Very witty, Godber.

Pretty sharp. Quick as a flash.

What's brown, lives in the sea
and attacks young mermaids?
No idea.

Jack the Kipper(!)

Do you hear all this? Aye.
Palace of bleedin' varieties!

"Jack the Kipper..."?

He's away to work it out.
You shout them out.

Come on. You promised you'd wash
your shirt to look presentable for
the Parole Board.

In a minute!

Leave it off, 17 years? Do you think
they'll be swayed by a clean shirt?

It's his clean record that counts.

Silly to jeapordise it
for water and soap!

All right.
'Ere... I've two of those.
All right.

I'll come in a minute.
I'll make the tea. I have your mug.

He nags worse than my daughter!

I thought he WAS your daughter.

He keeps the cell nice and clean.

Anyway, don't worry.
You'll be off out soon, won't ya?

Nothing's definite.

It's a mere formality, that.

Even Mr Barrowclough will bet on it
and you know what HE'S like.

If you ask him for a straight
"yes" or no" he says "it depends".

What's that?
Just saying you're loath to
commit yourself, Mr Barrowclough.

You like to hedge your bets,
don't you?

I'm as positive as the next man!

Then you'd say it was a formality
going out on parole?

Er...one has to consider
both sides.

Are you sure you're not sure(?)
Positive!

Huh! He should've been out
years ago.

You're on your way. Harry Grout's
giving odds. Don't bank on it.
I know disappointment.

You know YOUR trouble? You always
protested your innocence.

It's better to be guilty
but ashamed rather than innocent
but defiant.

You've gotta show 'em HOW you've
reformed. Yeah. That you're NOT
a despicable nerk.

Parole's a doddle for junkies,
alcoholics and them in
women's clothes.

What's my chances with a lapse into
petty crime, but from a good home
and with an "O" level in Geography?

You'd best get yourself a cocktail
frock with matching handbag(!)

In other words, naff all, mate!
Naff all!

Fletch... Yeah?

Do you think Blanco's a cert
for parole?

Course! Need the beds, don't they?

What was he originally sent up for?

Now, now. You can't ask that.
It's not what people WAS,
it's what they ARE!

Nothing you could say would set me
against him.

He's one of the nicest blokes here.

He's kind and gentle.
Doesn't matter to me what he's done.

He done his wife.

What!?

Done her in.

Locked her in a deep-freeze.

And we knock around with that
despicable old scroat!

That's why you don't ask!

Oh, yeah... I'm sorry -
irrational outburst.

Anyway, it was long ago. I see...

It's all right to refrigerate your
old lady if it was in 1959(?)

He's had time to repent, like.

His point is, he never did it
in the first place.

He reckons his wife had a lover
who killed her. WAS it?

Possible. The lover disappeared
a bit smartish.

That was a long time ago.
Too long to find out.

A wife can't testify against
her husband so modern science
is no use.

What do you mean?

There's no point in defrosting her
and asking her what happened.

Cor, it's like an ice-box in here!

Here... Where?

I know summat you don't. That'll be
the day. 13 across for a start!

Don't, Godber. It's bad manners,
that is. Anyhow, it's 'Rook'.

"Type of bird...."
R...blank...blank...k. Rook.

Not necessarily.

R...blank...blank...k. What else
could it be? It could be 'Rilk.'

'Rilk'(?)

'Rilk.' 'Rilk.'!
R...blank...blank...k. 'Rilk.'!

There's no such bird!

You're wrong! You're not as smart
as you thought you was.

What's a flaming 'Rilk' then?

A 'Rilk' is a migratory bird
from the North Baltic shores
of Finland.

It's main distinguishing feature
is that it flies backwards to keep
the sh... snow out of its eyes.

Go on. Ask me another, Bamber(!)

I bet it's 'Rook'. It's not 'Rook'.
It's too obvious.

Look, 'R-i-l-k'. I've put it in.
What's the other bit of information
you have?

The parole results. And...? Gibson,
in for car theft is turned down,
but Brown in for manslaughter's OK.

It reflects modern standards.
How d'you mean?

Well, it takes one minute to create
a life and ten to make a car.

And about five for it to fall
to bits again, an' all!

Oh, look, here they come -
Nat Mills and Bobbie!

He did it this time! You worked
your parole? Sailed through it!

It was a doddle!
The shirt did it! Come in.

Come and sit down, granddad.

We're very pleased for you. Yeah!
Surprise, surprise!

The old Max Jaffa cakes!
Look at them!

You'll notice a few changes
since 1959.

I sold a hot car in 1959. Zodiac,
it was. Two-tone with wing mirrors.

Took the wife to Butlins.

We won the bronze medal in the
Tea-for-two Cha-cha.

I were in Junior School. Sat with
Ann Podmore. She were left-handed.

Fascinating(!) I bet he got on
the right side of her!

I remember 1959 as the year I were
put away for something I didn't do.

Here, here... Come on.
Don't get all gloomy.

We're all festive for the occasion.

Oh, aye.

Now you're going out, you can tell
your mates... Were you innocent?
I WAS!

You'd like to think I'd screwed
the System all this time.

The truth is, the System's screwed
ME for 17 years! So I've decided...

Decided...? Aye.

All these years I've been claiming
me innocence...

If I accept parole I'm admitting
my guilt.

No, no, no. Parole means it wipes
the slate clean.

You're free and clear.
It's NOT a pardon!

It says you've done what they put
you in for. It's NOT good enough.
It says "Don't be a bad lad again"!

I were never a bad lad in the first
place, so they can take their parole
and shove it!

You haven't, have you? I have.
Told 'em to stuff it? Aye.

What did the Governor say?
Put the wind up his clappers!

You could be on the streets - free!

Queueing up at the Labour Exchange.

Standing in the rain waiting
for a bus.

I've waited long enough. A bit
longer won't make no difference.
Fetch me that scraper.

Your rhubarb's coming on.

You can't wait to get your hands
on my rhubarb!

You thought you'd get it in lieu
of me monopoly debts. Don't be daft!

AND me strawberries! It's MY
allotment. We'd look after it till
you come back in.

I reckon you would.

Just like life, prison. You make
plans and do naff all about it.
Look at this place.

I was gonna do so much... Caulies
and spring onions...

Nice runner beans.

Raspberries and maybe a few
goosegogs. Never got round to it!

Didn't one Governor let you grow
grapes? That were over there.

I'd read all about vines and I KNEW
I could grow grapes in this neck
of the woods.

And I did an' all. Oh, it were
bloody marvellous seeing those big,
ripe beauties.

They made me pack it in in the end.
Why? Grapes make wine, don't they?

Do they really(?) I always use
potato peelings and anti-freeze(!)

They didn't tumble. Not till we'd
put down about a dozen bottles.

Nice drop, was it? I don't suppose
it were a classic.

But to a man who hadn't had a drink
for eleven years, Chateau Slade
was the finest drop...!

You could be outside now supping
champagne. I've got my pride!

Freedom's pride.

I want BOTH, Fletcher!

Yes. Well, we'll have to see
what we can do.

What's this?
Saturday, and you lot
stuck inside!

CROW, sir.
Pardon?

It's the Campaign Headquarters
for CROW, sir.

C - blank - blank - W, CROW.
I mean C-R-O-W, CROW, sir.

What's that? Campaign for
the Release of Old Webb, sir -
that's Blanco, sir.

We were going to call it
Campaign for the Release and Pardon
of Old Webb, but it's C-R-A-P-O-W!

We thought that too rude for
the Home Office. The Home Office!?

Eventually, but first the Governor.

Blanco don't want to go out free
and guilty, but free and innocent.
That's what CROW's for.

We've 300 signatures.
What is it FOR?

Well... I'll tell him. There are two
ways to spring the old man...
a retrial...

After all this time!? The judge,
jury and witnesses will be dead
by now!

That MIGHT help! Know what I mean?

Or the Governor could ask
the Home Office for a pardon.

Under Sub-section 23, Paragraph D,
Part 3 of the Penal Code as amended
in 1972.

Really? Oh, it's well-known.

But WE are going for a retrial,
hence the petition.

Fletch... I've 63 signatures
from the mailbag room. Give it here!

Just a minute... Sixty-three!?
There's not above forty fellows
work there!

Shows the strength of their
feelings!

There's twenty-three X's here!

Yeah, there's a lot of fellas
can't write.

Are they genuine?
Of course they are - they're all
in different handwriting!

There's one bloke spelled
'X' with a 'Y'. I'll cross him off.

It's a very praiseworthy effort,
but I fear the Governor's attitude.

He has built-in resistance to ideas
from YOU lot!

You could maybe help us,
Mr Barrowclough - lend weight
to our pitch.

Give us credibility.
How?

Well, you're a humanitarian,
aren't you?

You play fair.
Always. See our point of view.

You brought reason and compassion
into a world where violence
prevailed.

I've always considered you as here
to be helped rather than punished.

Yes. Yes. Quite right!
I've always tried to understand.

I respect your rights and if you
have a just cause, I'll back it up.

I never doubted it, sir.
Just append your moniker.
Er...what?

It's a just cause. Use my pen.

That's MY pen! There's no time
for that. Mr Barrowclough...
No blinking fear!

I'm up for promotion.
I won't jeopardise that
by joining a conspiracy!

Well, I never...!

Hardly the humanitarian we thought!

He's brainier than we thought.

Pity. Other screws might follow.

Yeah. Well, no bother then...
'H. J. Barrowclough...' Hey!

Can you forge his signature?
How do you think we got them
ping-pong balls?

You'll be for it if they trace it
to you! They're more likely to
trace it to you - it's your pen!

It's trouble with a capital T.
It must be stamped out NOW.
All right, Mr Mackay. Bring them in.

Mr Barrowclough...
All right, lads... Left, right, left.
Halt when you're there.

STAND STILL IN FRONT
OF THE GOVERNOR!

STAND STILL!

Er...the petitioners, sir.

Yes, well...
Now listen, you men.

I'm not in favour
of prisoners' pressure groups.

They have that right under
Sub-section 13 which states that...

Don't spout the Penal Code at me!

We appreciate your seeing us, sir.
There is the petition for
the retrial of Old Man Blanco.

Do we have this many men in here?

It's an expression of feeling
inside Slade prison and a tribute
to your enlightened administration.

Is it?

Oh, yes! All them felons putting
names down. They'd have torn a less
enlightened place apart, sir.

Is that a threat? No, Mr Mackay.
Just an observation based on
experience of incarcerated males.

The mood is THAT strong?

And getting uglier every minute -
present company excepted.

Of course.

What's the point of this, sir?
Webb was offered parole.
He should accept gratefully.

He wants to clear his name.
He's a stubborn old fool.
Stubborn, yes...but not a fool.

I think there's
something heroic about...
No, as you say, the man IS a fool!

It was too long ago for a retrial.

But this petition could make
it a national issue, sir.

National? Blanco could be
a national hero. We want the media
on the old fella.

Media!?

Get him in the papers
and on television.

YOU might be a celebrity and
get on the Michael Parkinson show!
Or at worst, on Esther Rantzen's.

Fletcher, no way could this petition
become a national issue.

No, Mr Mackay. That's why we need
the hunger strike.

Hunger strike? What hunger strike!?

Blanco, sir. But don't worry.
He shouldn't last more than a week.

Yes...well...er...
You can leave this here.

We should discuss this.
On your way, Fletcher!
Back to your cells. Very good, sir!

Come on, then. Left wheel
out there. Left, right, left, right.

O-o-o-h-h... Hunger strike!

Typical of Fletcher
to try and turn the old man
into some kind of a martyr!

The LAST thing a prison needs
is a martyr.

What d'you think, Fletch?
Keep 'em crossed, son.

Caused a panic. Which was intended.

They'll have to scratch round for
an alternative. Pardon? I said
they'd have to find an alternative.

No... Pardon.

Oh... Granted!

Pardon?

Yes. Come in.

Could I have a word, sir?
You've left them out there alone!?

Mr Collinson's seeing to them.
We lost a typewriter last week.
Remember?

What is it, Mr Barrowclough?
Well, sir...there's a solution
to our problem.

As I'm sure you're aware with
your knowledge of the Penal Code.
Er...yes...

Refresh my memory.

Sub-section 23, Paragraph 'D'.

Good old Sub-section 23,
Paragraph 'G'.

Paragraph 'D', sir.

'D'...'D'... Yes, of course! 'D'.
Jog my memory again,
Mr Barrowclough.

As you know, sir, the Governor
of a prison has the right -
if he feels it is warranted...

Yes...?

..to request the Home Office
for a prisoner's pardon.
A pardon?

That's right, sir. A PARDON!?

Yes...of course! It would put paid
to any idea of a hunger strike being
splashed across the papers.

I DID think it was a good idea!

Yes. Well, I'm paid to come up
with good ideas in such situations!

I'll put through a recommendation
now. Look at all this nonsense...

Mr Barrowclough... YOUR signature's
on this form!

No, sir. There must be some mistake.

Look at that. What IS that,
Mr Barrowclough?

Is that not your signature?
It must be a forgery!

Oh, no... that IS my signature.
I must have signed it. I must have.

So, miracles DO happen. He's out
today, is he? Yeah. Free pardon.

They're all claiming credit for it.
The Governor says he thought of it.

Barrowclough's miserable because
he says HE thought of it first,
but WE know who DID. Yeah, ME!

What d'you mean, Godber?
I'm only joking.

Never mind. I haven't got over
Jack the Kipper yet!

Hello, Lukewarm!
Gentlemen, may I present the
best-dressed man in Slade Prison.

Wow! Ho-ho!

Oh, that's very elegant, innit, eh?

Where did you nick that from, eh?

Did you nick it from War on Want?
Fifty Shilling Tailor, that was.
You was robbed, mate!

No, it were the January sale, 1959.
'59... Oh-ho...!

It'll be back in fashion. Really?

1959... I was wearing Italian
pin-stripe suits and shirts
with Billy Eckstein collars.

I wore grey flannel shorts.
Oh, all right!

I wore this to the wife's funeral.
It's hardly black.

I couldn't afford a new suit.
I'd just paid for that damn freezer.
O-o-o-h-h...

Aye. Terrible to think that she were
to end up inside it.

It were fitting in a way, cos all
her life she were a cold woman.

Don't be too long, Mr Webb.
The bus is waiting.
Thank you, driver(!)

By gum, you don't know how good
that sounds... 'Mr' Webb!

You can go outside now, my son,
and hold your head up high.
All right? Right, Fletch.

Well, you know...
I'm not very good... Y'know...
After all this time...

..at expressing my gratitude.

I know what you've done,
and I'll not forget it.

You're going outside.
That's all that matters, innit, eh?

Don't waste your time
nattering to us.

I don't want much.
It's nice to know justice
has been done. Albeit a bit late.

The pardon's for your family name.
It's for your grandchildren, innit?

You can look anybody in the eye
without any shame or guilt.

Life's taken a great deal out of
you, mate. All you need back
is your pride. Right, Fletch.

Ta-ra, Blanco. Keep yer nose clean.
Ta-ra, son. Same to you.

One thing more... What's that?
Sue the Government for every penny
they've got. Too bloody right!

Ta-ta, Blanco. I'll miss you.

God bless ya. Thank you
for looking after me.

I'll try and get that scented
notepaper you asked for.

Come here. Listen...

We all know you didn't kill
your old lady. Some other bloke did
and you've paid for it.

But don't go out there harbouring
any thoughts of revenge. All right?
No...

I know him what did it.
It were her lover. But don't worry.
He died years ago.

It's all right then. That I DO know.
It were ME that killed him!

Subtitles by Charlie Menzies, BBC