Carry On at Your Convenience (1971) - full transcript

This is the tale of industrial strife at WC Boggs' Lavatory factory. Vic Spanner is the union representative who calls a strike at the drop of a hat; eventually everyone has to get fed up with him. This is also the ideal opportunity for lots of lavatorial jokes...

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♪ Three old ladies
locked in the lavatory ♪

Four matching pairs.

Blue and green washbasins
for Carter's, Aberdeen.

Check.

Two princess suites
complete with stainless

steel fittings for
Gerling's, London.

- Check.
- Six white, top-flushing urinals.

Stand-up ones?

Is there any other sort?

I only asked. Funny
things happen these days.

Six white top-flushing urinals,



regular design. For
the YWCA, Wigan.

One matching pair...

The YWCA? Hey, you're right. Funny
things do happen these days.

Well, Miss Withering, how
does it feel? Comfortable?

Yes, I think so, Mr Boggs.

Good, good. Comfort before beauty.
That's what I always say.

It's a bit big in
the bowl, I think.

It is only two centimetres
more than our last

model, and I'm sure we
shan't fall out over that.

It's falling in I'm worried about.

No, no. I like your
overall design, Mr Coote.

Oh, thank you, sir.

May I get off now, please?

Of course, Miss Withering. Thank
you. You've been most patient.



Yes. Like Job on a monument.
And what a monument. Ha-ha.

We must make sure the catch is
strong enough to support the seat.

- Do you mind if I try it, WC?
- No, go ahead. Yes, do.

Yes. I don't think I could stand
it for more than half an hour.

It was hardly designed
for a reading room.

Look. Look at this. Very slender,
this pedestal, isn't it?

It's streamlined.

What for? Wind resistance? Ha-ha.

In any case, the
thickness has nothing

whatsoever to do with
the tensile strength.

I hope you're right, Mr Coote.

I have had bitter
experience of what

happens when one of
these collapses.

Or rather my poor dear
wife had. Rest her soul.

I can assure you, sir, an elephant
could safely use that toilet.

Not without a much bigger bowl.

We can't afford to take
any chances, Mr Coote.

No. Dependability before
beauty, I always say.

Miss Withering, if you wouldn't
mind. Just one more time.

This time, my dear, come down on
it like a ton of bricks. Boom.

So far, so good.

Now, if you'd just bump
up and down a bit.

Excellent. Excellent.

Bump. Bump.

Things that go... in
the night. Ha-ha-ha.

One matching pair of what?

- Beauts.
- One matching pair of...

- Hello, Myrt, love.
- Oh, hello, Vic.

How about it this afternoon, then?

Not standing up.

No, sitting down. I've got
these grandstand tickets.

The kick-off's at three o'clock.
It should be a special match.

Three o'clock. Ooh, how can we?
We'll be working till five thirty.

I wouldn't bet on that,
if I were you. And

I'll take you out for
a bit of supper.

Ooh.

Hello, Myrtle. Got a
cup of tea for me?

Sorry, Bernie. No
more floor service.

What do you mean no
more floor service?

New rule. Drinks
only to be served in

the canteen during
official breaks.

Well, that's what I call
taking a diabolical liberty.

And that's something
you know all about.

- Ha-ha.
- Do you mind? Do you mind?

Don't you worry. I won't let
them get away with this.

That's all right, Vic. I didn't
really want a cup anyway.

Whether you want one or
not is beside the point.

This constitutes an infringement
of the workers' rights.

Oh. Old tinder bottom's off again.

Another blooming
strike, I suppose.

Oh, no. What's it for?

You know our Vic. He never
has known what it's for.

- Ooh.
- Ha-ha-ha.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr Boggs.

That's quite all
right, Miss Plummer.

I should have sounded my hooter.

There he is. Old silver
spoon. At it again.

Oh, give over, Vic. He can't
help being the boss's son.

Privileged class, sitting on
his... That's what he is.

Privileged class? Do you know what
the girls call him? Pencil doings.

That's how privileged he is.

Morning, all.

Morning, Mr Boggs.

I'd er... I'd like to see you for
a few moments, please, Mr Lewis.

All right. Make it quick, Spanner.
I'm already late for a meeting.

It has come to my notice
that a new rule has

been introduced without
consultation with me,

as a shop steward, to
the effect that tea may

no longer be served
outside the canteen.

Right. I made it.

Oh. Well, then. As the union's
appointed representative,

I wish to lodge the
strongest protest.

It is an infringement
of workers' rights.

- Oh, come off it, Spanner.
- I can show you right here.

- What's that?
- The NUCIE rule book.

Oh, I see. They're making
rules about that now.

N-U-C-I-E. NUCIE, Mr
Lewis. The Nation

Union of Chinaware
Industrial Employees.

Oh, I beg your pardon.
You know what

you can do with their rule book.

What's that?

Let me give you a clue.

These pages are
just about the same

size as our toilet-paper holders.

Now do you get the idea?

Great, big, steaming,
public-school nit.

All right, everyone.
You all heard him.

Direct aggravation of
a genuine grievance.

- Stop work.
- Everybody out.

There you are. What
did I tell you?

Meeting in the canteen in ten
minutes. Tell everyone, Bernie.

Right. Meeting in the
canteen... When was it?

Ten minutes.

Meeting in ten minutes'
time... Where was it?

In the canteen.

- Meeting in ten minutes' time...
- All right, they know.

Oh, excuse me.

Lewis, my boy. It's all right.

We're just discussing the new

Princess Beatrice
suite. Come on in.

Oh, I see.

There we are.

Please don't get up,
Miss Withering.

But I want to get up, Mr Lewis.

What do you think of it, my boy?
Rather elegant, wouldn't you say?

Yes.

But I thought we were going
to modernise our stuff,

and I thought we were going to
include a bidet in our new range.

Oh, yes. I designed one,
but Mr Boggs sat on it.

On the idea, I mean.

I do not think
bidets are quite us.

But, Dad, all our competitors
are making them.

I dare say, but I didn't
think the high cost of

production coupled with
the limited demand...

Limited demand? But I
told you about that

enquiry from abroad
for 1,000 of them.

I know, my boy, but
I don't think that

my dear grandfather
would have approved

of the name Boggs being
associated with such an article.

Oh, Mr Plummer. Can't
you persuade him?

Quite frankly, I don't
see the use of 'em. It's

easy enough to wash
your feet in the bath.

Bidets are not for
washing your feet in.

What else? Are they for
dogs to drink out of?

No.

Get away. Well, if it's
for that, then, you can

always stand on your
head under the shower.

Lewis. Lewis, my boy.

Can you hear anything?

No.

- Neither can I.
- Well, that's all right, then.

No, it's not all right.
They've stopped work.

I tell you, brothers.

It is time we made a stand.

It is time the bosses learnt that
they can't mess the worker about.

- What do you say?
- Down with 'em.

That's right. Down with 'em.

It is up to us to show
the bloated bureaucrats

that they can't grind
our faces in the dust.

- What do you say?
- Down with 'em.

That's right. You see, brothers,

this issue isn't just over when
or when not you can have a cuppa.

Oh. No.

This ruling is another blow

aimed at the fundamental
rights of the worker.

Hear hear.

It's another little
prod at the very

vitals of your personal freedom.

I haven't noticed anyone
prodding at my vitals.

Good for you, Chloe.

Ready for you any time, Chloe.

Yes. All right, then.

Yes. All right, then.
Quiet, please.

Thank you, Mrs Moore.

But I seem to remember
that you got very upset

when they banned you
women from wearing

trousers. What do you say to that?

Down with 'em.

Cheeky, Bernie.

I didn't mean down
with the trousers.

Anyway, brothers, I am now calling
for an immediate stoppage of work,

pending reinstatement
of the tea rounds.

Now, then, all those in favour,
raise your right hands.

Count 'em, Bernie.

Are you in favour?

Of course I am, you fool.

Oh, well, er...

Well, that makes two.

Well, that's that.

Mind if we get back to work, then?

Would you wait just one
more minute, please?

I would like to make
one last appeal

to your reason and common sense.

I'll call for one more
vote. And, in doing

so, I would like you
all to bear in mind

the fact that the Rovers are
playing at home this afternoon

and the kick-off's
at three o'clock.

Right? All those in favour?

Count 'em, Bernie.

There we are.

Trouble.

Well, well, well. Never
saw so many people

wanting to leave the
room at the same time.

I have to inform you,
Mr Plummer. It has

just been decided
by a majority vote

that unless the tea
rounds are brought

back, there will be
an immediate walkout.

Oh, yes. We're playing at home
this afternoon, aren't we?

You're not going to let
them get away with this?

Leave it to me, Mr Lewis.

Now, look, Spanner. Let's
be sensible about this.

You know very well that
our extra tea rounds

were laid on by the
management as a privilege.

So doing away with them hardly
breaks any union rules.

Ah. That's just where you're
wrong, and I quote...

Section M, page 154, paragraph
79b, treatment of the workers.

"Action may be taken
if at any time the

management fails to provide
adequate facilities

for catering to the
workers' natural needs."

Natural needs?

Drinking is a natural
need, is it not?

So's sex, but that doesn't mean
they have to lay on crumpet.

Very funny, Mr
Plummer. Very funny.

We want to know if
you are prepared

to reinstate the tea rounds.

You know very well I can't do
that, but, as works foreman,

I'll see that your
complaint is passed

on to the management. All right?

No, I'm afraid not. We need
a more positive guarantee.

- Why don't we talk about it?
- No. I'm damned if we will.

Mr Lewis, please.

No. Now, listen to me, all of you.

Oh, blimey.

You may not understand
what it means, but

since I've been working
in this factory,

I have made a time
and motion study.

I know what it means,
Mr Lewis. And if you've

got the time, I've
certainly got the motion.

And don't think I hadn't
noticed it, Mrs Moore.

Especially in your main
production department.

Oh, you cheeky devil.

Anyhow, I'd like to try and
show you how it works.

She knows how it
works. I promise you.

Mr Lewis, we are
evading the issue.

Are we or are we not going
to get what we want?

That's up to Mrs Moore.

I mean on the factory floor.

Not ruddy likely.

All right. That's enough fun.
Now, let's get down to business.

Sounds just like my old man.

All right, all right.

In this factory. 166 extra mugs of

tea are served in
the average week.

Now, on the basis that
one worker has to make

a trip to the toilet for
every pint consumed,

this means that he makes
16 trips in one day.

Poor devil. He must
have a weakness.

No, not quite, Mr Hulke. It means
that, allowing for an average time

of four and a half minutes
for each trip to the toilet,

72 minutes are lost in each day.

Which equals 15 hours lost going
to the toilet in one week.

You see?

- So what is the answer?
- Tie a knot in it.

Quite. But a less painful
solution, in my opinion,

was simply to cut out
the extra tea rounds.

Doesn't that make sense?

Just one moment, please, Mr Lewis.

Am I to understand, then, that
the management want the workers

to stop going to the
loo, when they want to?

I didn't say that exactly.

You just want to cut down on the
number of trips they want to make?

Well, yes. That's it. Exactly.

I thought so. It is a clear
case of restrictive practise.

Right into it.

Everybody out.

Fine mess I made of that.

It would have been simpler to
have done what they wanted.

I'm like you. I don't
give in easily.

You'll have to, if you
want them back tomorrow.

Yes, I know.

Well, it gives us a
free afternoon, anyway.

Yes... Us?

We'll have a run out
into the country and

something to eat at a
little pub I know.

Sorry, I'm busy.

I'll pick you up at the
Odeon at half past two.

Lewis, it's no use.

And try not to be late.
There's no waiting there.

Ah, Spanner.

Thanks a lot. I
thought we were going

to have to work this afternoon.

Dead worried, I was.

But what about your
loss of production?

Who cares? Think of the
wages we're saving.

What's up with him,
then? He's gone potty.

On the contrary. I think he's
learning some sense at last.

Saving on the wages...
Saving on the wages...

What's he on about?

Anyway, are you all right
for this afternoon?

Oh, er... no, I don't
think so. Thanks, Vic.

I promised to help Mum
with a few things.

- What, instead of the football?
- Yeah. Funny girl, aren't I?

Oh, hey. She's gone potty an' all.

Saving on the wages...

Excuse the rush, but I've
got a lot to do. Bye.

Lot to do...

I wish I had a lot to do.

Don't we all? Thanks
for the lift, Sid.

All right. See you
down the pub tonight?

I doubt it. The lord
and master is home.

- Then you'll have plenty to do.
- You must be joking.

Fred is strictly a
Saturday-nighter.

What a shocking waste.

Oh, get you. You never
stop, I suppose.

Only to fill my pipe.

That'll do, saucy.

Oh, hello, Fred.

Sid just gave me a lift home.

- Oh.
- I hope that's all he gave you.

Fred.

I thought you were
having a canteen lunch.

That little twerp Spanner
organised another walkout.

Another strike? How can I sell our
products if you don't make 'em?

What are you so surprised about?
It's only the 13th this year.

Cor. What's it all
about this time?

I suppose you could call it the
take in and put out figures.

Take in and put out figures?

Technically known as
the T and P figures.

Sid.

I'm glad you both find
it so very funny.

Yeah.

There's always trouble
at the works.

We seem to be having it once a
week, as regular as clockwork.

I thought that's how you liked it.

Come on, Fred. I'll get
you something to eat.

I could do with a bit.

Spoken like a true man.

Come on.

That's all I need.

A face full of sodding knickers.

Eugh.

Nice Joey. Pretty Joey.

Pretty little boy, then.

Nice little boy, then.

Who's a nice little boy?

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello, Mummy. Hello,
Mummy. Go on. Say it.

Hello. Mummy.

Look what Mummy's got for him.

A nice little toy.

A nice little toy for
a clever little boy.

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

- Ta, Mummy.
- Gorblimey.

Can't you give that poor
bleeding bird a rest?

It's the only way you can get
him to talk, chatting to them.

Chatting, yes. Not
nagging him to death.

We've had him nearly a year now.
He really ought to say something.

He would if he could get
a word in edgeways.

You've had me for 25 years
and I still have trouble.

If only he'd give a little chirp
now and then, that'd be something.

He really ought to make
some sort of noise.

- How about some dinner?
- Oh, no. He's got plenty to eat.

For me. Not for him.

Haven't you had anything, then?

No. Didn't Myrtle tell you
there's another strike on?

She rushed upstairs
to wash her hair. I

wondered why she was
home lunch time.

- Now you know, don't you?
- Did you hear that, Joey?

All those naughty men
are on strike again.

Yes. Naughty men. Naughty men.

- How about something to eat?
- I've had something.

For me. For Pete's sake.

Oh.

Well, I could make you some
beans on toast, I think.

No. Nothing elaborate, thank you.

Mummy's just going to get
Daddy some din-dins.

And you'll be all right till
I get back? Will you, then?

Of course he'll be
all bloody right.

What do you think he's going to
do? Chuck himself into his drink?

He doesn't like being left
alone. It upsets him.

And when he gets upset,
he dirties his cage.

She spoils you to budgery.

You know that?

What do you think your daddy's
got for you today, then?

A honey ring.

Yes.

What have you got to
say to that, then?

Ta, Daddy.

Ta, Daddy.

Come on, mate. You can talk to me.

Ta.

Ta.

My washing's all over
the floor in there.

Here, what are you doing to him?

- Nothing.
- Oh, yes, you are.

What's nasty Daddy been
doing to him, then?

Nasty Daddy just bought him
a honey ring, that's all.

Are you going to report
me to the RSPCA?

Oh. Did the nasty man buy him
a horrid old honey ring?

Dear, oh dear, oh dear.

How do you expect
him to talk if you

keep stuffing him up with food?

One lousy honey ring won't
stop him from talking.

If I thought that, I'd have bought
you a crate of 'em years ago.

Oh. Never mind.

Mummy will take the nasty
thing away. There.

That cost me a pint of beer.

- Now look what's happened.
- What? What?

Well, he's done something.

Here. Hold this.

Never mind, Joey.

Mummy will make it
nice and clean again.

Yes, she will. Little Joey.

He's after you, you know.

Who?

Sid Plummer.

What?

Oh, Fred, you must be joking.

What do you mean he's after me?

I can tell. You can't be
a commercial traveller

without knowing when a
bloke's on the make.

I should know. I mean, I've
seen the others at it.

Just because he gives
me a lift home?

It's the way he looks at you.

Not that I can blame him.

You ask for it, flashing
your legs and... things

- all over the place.
- What?

Well, I mean, look at
'em. Like two bald-headed

convicts trying to
burst out of jail.

Fred, you're jealous.

Me? I wouldn't be seen dead with
a couple of things like that.

I mean, of Sid.

Don't you realise he's
at a dangerous age?

At that age, a bloke will
try almost anything.

Oh, well, thank you very much.

I didn't mean that.

I get very worried about
you, me being away so much.

Fred, do you really think I'd want
to play around with anyone else

when I've got a smashing bloke
like you to play around with?

I know women.

When there's no prime beef handy,

they'll make do
with any scrag end.

Well, then, you want to
make sure that there is

plenty of prime beef when
I need it. Don't you?

Steady on. I've just
pressed these trousers.

- Take them off, why don't you?
- What, in the middle of the day?

I've got the rest of the day off.

Don't you realise, there's a
time and a place for everything.

Well, if you've got the
time, I've got the place.

What, before tea?

Thanks, Bernie. Want
to go to the game?

Do you...

Hello, Mrs Spanner. Are
you all right, then?

Stop that bloody row. Shut up.

- What did she say?
- Turn that thing off.

Turn it off.

Just a minute, I'll turn this
off. Now, what did you say?

Turn... Turn it off.

- It is off.
- I know it is.

Do you want a stand
ticket for the game?

Yes, please.

All right. Pick me
up at half past two.

And, Vic...

I just want to say that I think
you handled the men marvellous.

Oh, yes. Well, er... it's just a

natural gift that,
you know, Bernie?

Some men are born with the
qualities of leadership.

I don't agree with what
the blokes are saying.

What's that, then?

That you're a miserable
little leader.

Size has got nothing
to do with it.

I think you'd better get going.

And don't you worry, Vic.

They'll laugh the other
side of their faces...

when you're prime minister.

Good for nothing, little
sod. Just like his

bloody old father, may
he rest in pieces.

Well, well, well. If it isn't
my dear, sweet, old mum.

Don't come slobbering over me. I'm
busy. I'll tell you another thing.

Tell that halfwitted
giant if he brings

that motorbike round here again,

I'm going to kick
him where it hurts.

Mum, please.

This is a respectable and
refined neighbourhood.

And don't you bloody
well forget it.

How can I, when you keep
reminding me of it so nicely?

Oh, shut up and sit down,

or you'll be late for your work.

Oh, er... We er...

Erm... we don't have to go
back this afternoon, Mum.

You've started another
bloody strike, haven't you?

Haven't you? You
have, haven't you?

The men had a grievance, and as
their appointed representative,

I could not let them
be ground underfoot.

Crap.

Mum, please. I am working there
for the good of the workers.

You never did a day's work in your

life. You're like
your bloody father.

My father was a victim of the
capitalist-ridden society.

Your father was a victim
of the gin-ridden society,

and if I hadn't taken in
lodgers, where would we be now?

I pay my way.

Oh, yes. I forgot about that.

Yes. I've been wondering what
I'd do with your £4 this week.

Take myself to the
Bahamas, perhaps.

If me and my money
aren't welcome here...

Oh, sit down on your
backside and shut up.

If you spent more time
sitting on it and less

time talking through it,
we might get somewhere.

Now, we've got to feed
the poor, bloody,

hard-working strikers, haven't we?

There you are.

- Cold sausages.
- What?

You're spoiling me, aren't you?

Giving it to me 15
times in one week.

Cooee.

I'm in the dining room, Mr Coote.

Oh, hello.

There you are. Lunch is all ready.

Unless you want to
wash your hands first.

I think I can wait until
after. Thank you, Mrs Spanner.

- Good. You sit here, Mr Coote.
- Oh, yes.

I've put a clean napkin
in your ring for you.

Ooh. You're much too
good to me, Mrs Spanner.

Not at all. I'm only too glad
to have a real gentleman

in the house, for a change.

Ever since my poor dear husband

passed on, I've
missed it, you know?

I'm sure you have.

How's Victor?

All right.

- I've got your favourite today.
- You haven't.

I have. Nice hot steak
and kidney pie.

Oh, dear Mrs Spanner.

- You spoil me, you do.
- Not at all.

You really do.

You a nice clean boy again, then?

What's he going to say? Ta, Mummy?

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

Talk about a non-stop performance.

I thought he was going to talk.
His beak opened and closed.

- No.
- Yes.

Fancy that.

A bird opening and
closing its beak.

We'll have to write
to the newspapers.

Well, it's a start. Generally, he
just sits there doing nothing.

He's a natural mimic.
He's copying you.

Say, hello, Mummy. Hello, Mummy.

Say, hello, Mummy.

What's all this stuff still
left on the table for?

- Are we having an exhibition?
- Do you want me to clear it?

No, no, no. I can manage.

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello. Go on.

Hello, Mummy.

Hello, Joey.

I don't understand it.

Mrs Phillips' bird talked in
three months. Whole sentences.

Mind you, they weren't
very nice things it said.

They had to cover it up
when the vicar called.

Face it. He's a dead loss.
We should get rid of him.

No. He's company for
me. That was the

whole idea of it, wasn't it, Joey?

You'd be company for
me. Wouldn't you?

It's all right for you. You go
to work and enjoy yourself.

I'm here alone all day.

You'll be alone all night
if you don't shut up.

Do you mind? I'm trying
to work out my bets.

I wonder if he wants
a little mate.

What would he want
a little mate for?

Give him something to do.

What?

Well, you know.

No, I don't know.

Birds and fishes have always been
a mystery to me. What do they do?

Don't be silly.

They... bill and coo.

What with?

Well, I don't have to
go into details, do I?

Blimey. Males and females all
look the same, don't they?

We can tell what
we've got hold of,

but how the hell can they tell?

Well, we know Joey's
a he bird, don't we?

Cock.

He is. The man in
the shop said so.

Cock bird, not "he" bird.

It's all the same thing.

You wouldn't call yourself
a cock man, would you?

Opportunity would be a fine thing.

Stop that row and get
that thing out of here.

Not so much noise.

Not so much noise. My mum's there.

Go on, you great gormless lump.

Quite right, Mrs Spanner.
It's a disgrace.

You mind your own bloody business.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise
you were here, Mr Coote.

Oh, that's all right...

Agatha.

Has Victor gone?

Yes, Charles. We're all alone now.

Good. How about it, then?

Oh, I don't know. I really
ought to do the dishes first.

Oh, they can wait.
Just a quick one.

I do find it very hard
to say no to you.

You know you like it
just as much as I do.

Very well. I'll draw the curtains.

- Right.
- Yes.

Cut for deal.

Oh.

What's the matter? Did
you lose something?

Oh, damn near.

Stay there.

Oh, so that's your game, is it?

Bernie, follow that car.

What car?

That car. The one
with Myrtle in it.

Myrtle who?

- Oh, come on. Get going.
- Right. We're off.

What do you mean, me wasting time?

You never win anything
on the horses, do you?

How ignorant can you get?

I've told you. I work it out
scientifically. I study form.

Why don't you win sometimes?

Can I help it if they
don't run scientifically?

It doesn't seem right
to me, throwing that

money away each day
and us going without.

Don't notice you going
without anything.

I wouldn't mind, if you could just
pick a winner every now and then.

You reckon you could
do better, then?

I couldn't do much worse, could I?

All right. Let's see.

I'll read out the runners
in the Newmarket three

o'clock. See if you
can pick the winners.

That's silly. We won't know the
winners until this evening.

No, no, no, this is
yesterday's racing.

- Oh.
- Here we go.

Anthony Watt. Jolmon.
Carbia. Cleopatra.

Sid, did you hear that?

Yes. His very first
chirp. How about that?

Oh. It must have been one
of them words you read out.

- What words?
- One of them horse's names.

Cleopatra?

- There.
- Yes.

Oh. Does he like that word, then?

Cleopatra.

Cleopatra.

Cleopatra.

All right, all right.
Don't tire him out.

Oh, Sid. Isn't it exciting?

Yeah. Mind you, it's
time he did something

else apart from dropping
good luck messages.

- Oh.
- Right. Now, then. Where were we?

We don't have to go any further.

If that's what Joey
liked, I'll pick it.

- Cleopatra?
- Yes.

It was a 10-1 shot.
It had no chance.

I don't mind. Well, what won?

By three lengths-Cleopatra.

There you are. What
did I tell you?

You didn't pick it. The
blooming bird picked it.

Well, it won, didn't it?

Are you going potty? Just
because he likes the word.

What does he know about horses?

I don't know, but he's
done better in one

race than you've done
the whole season.

But that's not the point, is it?

You're the one who said
you could pick 'em

better than me, so let's
see you pick one.

I'll read you the 3:30 runners.

Diddy Ching.

Fast Day Boy.

Golden Gay.

Tiny Tim.

You keep out of this.
Now, where was I?

That'll do me. Tiny Tim.

Just cos he chirped again?

Yes. Well, who won?

This is ridiculous.
There's no reason to it.

We can't all pick
scientifically, can we?

Well, who won?

Tiny Tim.

4-1.

There you are. You see?

Now, are you satisfied?

Who's a clever boy. Then?

Did he pick the winners
for Mummy, then?

Shut up. Shut up a minute.

I want to try another one.

I don't feel like doing any more.

Not you, him. Now, listen, mush.

I'm going to read the runners
of the four o'clock.

Now, concentrate. Are you ready?

Right.

The Woozer.

X-Ray. Double Dwelling.

- I'll see you.
- Two pairs.

Oh, dear. You've beaten me again.

I knew this was going
to be my lucky day.

- Now, no looking.
- Oh.

Hello, Mrs Spragg. It's
got very cold, innit?

Not surprising.

I thought I heard the front door.

So did I.

Victor. What are you doing
without your trousers on?

Well, you can talk, I must say.

What? Oh. Argh.

Polar Prince.

Silver Plate.

Pollyanna.

Well, did it?

Yes. He's picked the winner of
every single race yesterday.

He must have seen the
results in the paper.

That's it... What are you talking
about? He can't read, can he?

Well, how do you know? You didn't
even know how they made love.

He's getting
information somewhere.

Where are you getting it?
Come on, talk. Talk.

Oh, don't be silly. You
know he can't talk.

You're quite right. Big, fat,
beady-eyed, useless lump.

Don't talk to him like that.
And what do you mean useless?

He's picked all the
winners this afternoon.

After they'd run.

Fat lot of good that is. If he
could pick 'em before they...

I wonder. What's the time?

Half past three.

I can be at the betting
shop by half past four.

Now, listen, genius. Listen to me.

Who's a nice fella, then? Who's
a big, handsome, clever lad?

What are you going to do to him?

Shut up a minute. I'm
going to read you

the runners of the
4:30 at Kempton today.

Now, relax. Think carefully.

Winners only. Here we go.

Family Steps.

Petticoat.

Peewit The Third.

Peewit The Third?

He's never even been placed. You
must be out of your tiny mind.

Oh. Now look what you've done.

You made him dirty his cage again.

I'm not surprised.
Peewit The Third.

All right. I'll do it.

But I'm warning you,
mate. If you're

wrong, I'll wring
your bloody neck.

Oh, don't worry.

Mummy will wring
Daddy's bloody neck.

It's all right. I'll go.

- Oh, hello.
- Excuse me, Mr Coote.

Oh, I'm sorry to
interrupt your dressing.

That's all right. I was just
having a game of cards.

- Oh, yeah. I see.
- Would you care to have a game?

Not just now, thank you. I'm
hardly dressed for it, am I?

Oho. We'll soon get those off you.

No, thank you. Actually,
I've come to see Vic.

Oh, there he is.

Well, if you'll excuse me,
I must get back to it.

I thought I might
find you back here.

Er... here's your trousers.

Oh, thanks a lot.

Oh. They'll be very
useful, they will, in

case my legs ever have
a row and split up.

It wasn't my fault. You
told me to follow that car.

- All right. All right. Did you?
- What?

Follow the car.

Oh, yeah. I stuck to
'em like a limpet.

Where did they go?

They just drove around,
then went into a cinema.

Right, come on.

Good. If we hurry, we can make
the second half of the game.

We are not going to the football.

Oh.

Activities of the
Koo Koo islanders.

There's no sight
quite so thrilling

as to watch them preparing
their evening meal.

Is this the wonderfully
interesting film you heard about?

No, it's the one after this.

Women are busily
engaged in peeling

vegetables and
cutting up the meat.

To do this, they use knives
and other kitchen implements.

Let us watch their nimble fingers
at work for a few moments.

A spectacle few White people
have been privileged to witness.

- Blimey. How much more of this?
- Why don't you stop moaning?

Oh, that's choice, that is.

It was bad enough
missing the football

without spending six
bob to come and watch

a bunch of idiots
making an Irish stew.

And that is where we must bid a

reluctant farewell
to Koo Koo Island.

He's got his arm round her now.

- Who?
- Lewis, of course.

The film you are about to see
was refused a certificate

by the British Board
of Film Censors.

But has been granted a showing
by the local council.

That sounds more like it.

I am a well-known and
practising doctor.

In the artistic and beautiful
picture, which now follows.

You will see naked men
and women engaged

in the various arts
of sexual love.

This is by no means
intended to shock,

but purely and frankly to
demonstrate that the sexual act.

Far from being something
to be afraid of.

Is, in fact, a great
joy and pleasure,

which can. And indeed should.

Be enjoyed by everyone.

First, let us familiarise
ourselves with the

component parts of
this. The male body.

And this. The female body.

God, you don't miss
a trick, do you?

Cor.

No, wait, Myrtle, please.

Come on, Bernie.

Come on. They're leaving.

- Come on.
- Oh, no. Not now.

No.

Let us look at the
number of different ways

in which we can bring
the two together.

Move. Come on.

Oh, no.

That's the line-up
for the last race

at Doncaster. Tote prices follow.

And here is the
result of the 4:30 at

Kempton. First, Peewit The Third.

He did it. Hey, Benny.

Pound each way, 10-1.

Finally got yourself
a good win, Sidney?

Congratulations.

They've finished eating.

I'm glad to hear that. That
makes me feel a lot better.

What's the matter with you?

Cor, stone me. You
drag me away from the

football match. You drag
me out of the cinema.

You drag me 20 miles
into the country

to watch them stuff themselves

and then you ask
what's the matter.

You didn't have to
come out with me.

No, and I can't wait not to come
out with you tomorrow, either.

Listen, I'm not going
to stand by and watch

that nit having it
away with Myrtle.

Why not? It's better than
watching them eating.

Look, I honestly
didn't know it was

going to be that sort of a film.

What a day.

All it needs is for Dad to walk in
now to make everything perfect.

Oh, for heaven's sake. What's
he got against me, anyway?

Plenty, apart from the fact
that you're the boss's son.

Is that so terrible?

You should hear him
on that subject.

Oh, charming. But what makes
him think I want to marry you?

Oh, he doesn't. On
the contrary. He

had you weighed up from the start.

"I know all about blokes
like young Mr Lewis."

- Oh, listen, Myrtle...
- Yes?

Oh. Erm... another
couple of those, please.

I mean these, please.

If I were you, I'd have stuck
to your first request.

I fancy the fella with the ears.

Cor. Did you see that waitress?

I've never seen anything like that

before. Do you think
that was all real?

Of course. It's the
only qualifications

you need for the
job. Big prospects.

That's nothing. In some places.
They're completely topless.

Cor, nothing?

Not a stitch.

I bet that's tricky
when they serve soup.

It's a bit dodgy
when they fry chips.

If I say I'm sorry about the film,
sorry for being the boss's son,

and sorry for having such a lousy
reputation, could we start again?

And sorry for being on the
make all the time with me?

From now, just good friends.

I'll drink to that.

How about a dance? Is
that within the rules?

Yeah. Provided there's no
dirty work in the clinches.

Aye aye. He's got her
on the floor now.

What? In front of everybody?

- I'm sorry. Lewis.
- Oh, hello, Roger.

I'm sorry I was put out
today when you called.

That's all right.

It's all ok. You can use
the old flat tonight.

You bastard.

Wait, Myrtle, please.

Thank you, Joey.

Funny, but I don't seem
to have seen anything

of young Mr Lewis since
we've been back.

Have you, Bern?

No. Well, he's away.
That's what you told me.

That was a couple of
weeks ago, wasn't it?

I just wondered whether
he'd left us for

any reason. Have you
heard anything, Myrt?

I couldn't care less
what's happened to him.

Ha-ha-ha. You dropped
me in it there.

You didn't say it was a secret.

- Hello.
- Hello, Sid.

Sitting down on the job again?

Mr Plummer, I know my
job. Nothing in the rule

book says I cannot do it
in a seated position.

I'll bet you say that
to all the girls.

Mr Plummer, if you want to bring
a specific charge against me...

No, no, no. Sit down.
Enjoy yourself.

Relax. Go slow. Work
to rule, if you like.

There you are. Have
a smoke as well.

I'm sorry to have kept you
waiting, Fred. Come on.

Come in.

Hello, Dad.

Lewis, my boy. I didn't
know you were back.

We've got it. The Middle East
contract. Show him, Mr Moore.

If I may say so, Mr Boggs,
it was done in the face

of very stiff competition.
Very stiff indeed.

Signed by His Highness, King
Frauzi of Aslam himself.

Really? Another crowned head to
add to our clientele. Excellent.

- What's it for?
- Bidets.

Bidets.

Yes. 1,000 of them.

1,000 bidets.

One for each of his wives. There
mustn't be any favouritism, sir.

Are you mad?

We do not make bidets.

It's high time we
started. You sign that.

I will not have my firm
associated with the

manufacture of such
a dubious article.

Dad, we cannot afford to turn
it down. It's worth £19,000.

I don't...

19,000.

That's an awful lot of
money. And payment?

On completion of the order
in two months' time.

Two months.

Yes. That was the only snag.

They have to have them in time
for the feast of Abanibble, sir.

Abanibble?

That's right. When
it's His Highness's

custom to visit each
of his wives in turn.

It only happens once a year.

I'm not surprised to hear it.

But we couldn't possibly
complete this order

in two months. We haven't
even got a design.

Yes, we have. Mr Coote did one

months ago. Now,
come on, Dad. Sign.

Oh, very well. I can't
help feeling I'm

going into something
I shall regret.

You're looking very well
this morning, Mrs Moore.

Thank you, Doctor. Can I
get dressed again now?

Yes. While I put my eyes back in.

Another new suit?

I had a bit of luck
on the gee-gees.

Again? You'll have to
give me some tips.

I've got a good one for you.

Don't bend over in a
tight skirt. Ha-ha.

Saucy.

Refused you a bridging loan for a
measly 1,500? I don't believe it.

I'm afraid it's true.
I hadn't wanted to

bother you with our
financial problems,

but the bank has been
carrying us for some years.

- And now they're dropping us?
- It seems so.

We'll just have to get
out of that contract.

Excuse me, WC. How
much do you need?

- I should think 1,000 would do.
- Is that all? 1,000.

Don't bother with banks.
I can let you have that.

You can, Mr Plummer?

I haven't got it with
me, but I can get it.

Let's see. We've got an hour till
the last race at Cheltenham.

- Last race at Cheltenham?
- That's right.

I'll have to move fast. I've
got to see a bird first.

A bird at Cheltenham?

You promised me you'd
limit it to two bets

a week, so he didn't
over strain himself.

Don't argue.

- Read out the runners.
- All right.

But don't blame me
if nothing happens.

I'm sorry about this. It's
nothing to do with me, Joey.

I'm not the greedy one.

All right? Here we go, then.

4:30 at Cheltenham.

Bob.

Girlie.

Hard-To-Get.

Order Form.

Proper Charlie.

Sweet Sue.

That's the one.

What's the betting?

- 18-1.
- That'll do.

18-1 on Sweet Sue.

£56 win bet.

That's exactly £1,026.

That's just what I make it, Benny.

Just what he makes it. Pints
of blood, I'm giving.

You'll get it all back.

What good is getting
it back if I've

had a heart attack
from paying it out?

I'm sorry. You know I
don't like doing this.

You don't like doing
this. I don't like doing

this. So why do we go
on suffering this way?

Just because I've had a
bit of luck for a change.

For a change, he
says. For a change.

Have a look at this. It's all in
black and white in the ledger.

In the last three weeks, 11
winning bets you've had.

£2,433.

You have taken from me.

I tell you what I'll
do. Tomorrow I'll

come in here and
I'll bet the lot...

No, no, no. No more,
Sid. It's finished.

Finished?

From now on, there's
a limit on you. £5.

What do you mean? What kind
of a sportsman are you?

What's with the
sportsman? If I was a

sportsman, I'd be
riding the horses.

Ah, Mr Coote. I'd like you to
show my father your bidet design.

By all means, Mr Lewis.
I have it right here.

Yes, yes... if anyone
has any use for

this sort of thing.
Any idea of the cost?

Well, after basic outlay on a new
mould and so on, about £7 each.

How about that, Dad?
On this contract,

that could be worth
over 100% profit.

He's hit on this marvellous

labour-saving idea.
Tell him, Mr Coote.

It's quite simple. Instead
of the conventional

arrangement of separate
hot and cold taps,

and waste control tap,

the whole thing could be done
by one simple control. Thus...

Hot, cold,

down the hole.

Drop everything.

Cut the switches.

Oh. Blimey. Now what's happened?

Excuse me.

All right. All right. All
right. What's the hold-up?

- One at a time.
- I'm sorry, Mr Plummer.

These men cannot put
this fitting onto those.

Why not?

I stand to be corrected, but
I think I'm right in stating

this is a combined tap
and waste-pipe control.

- That's right. What about it?
- Whose job is it to fit it?

What are you talking
about? Ernie can do it.

Of course I can, Sid.

Oh, no, because Ernie
is a tap fitter.

Willie can do it, then.

Oh, no, because Willie, as you
well know, is a waste-pipe fitter.

Right. They can both do it.

No. If a tap fitter does it, he's
doing a waste-pipe fitter's job.

If a waste-pipe fitter does it,
he's doing a tap fitter's job.

Does it matter, as long
as they're working?

That's what I was saying.

If you'll pardon
me, you don't have

a say. This is union business.

It is our union, innit?

Exactly. And you'll do
as it bloody tells you.

Listen, under a
redundancy agreement...

All right, we know all about that.

But we're not making
anybody redundant.

These men are doing
their own jobs and

each other's jobs
in the same time.

All right, Mr Spanner.
What's your solution?

It's not the union's
job to give solutions.

You can say that again.

Just to show I'm not trying
to make difficulties,

if you was to scrap this fitting
and make two separate fittings...

Impossible. That basin was
made for that fitting.

That's typical. Isn't
that typical? I offer a

solution and they start
making difficulties.

Hang on. I've got it.
Suppose they work together?

Ernie puts the fitting in
the hole, connects it to

the pipe, then Willie
connects it to the outlet.

You're missing the point.
You've still got two

men doing two men's
jobs in the same time.

Which is the same as one man doing
one man's job in half the time.

What's wrong with that?

If every worker did his
job in half the time,

the country would be
in a right old mess.

Bernie.

Wait a minute. You
can't bring 'em out.

Until I acquaint the
union general secretary

with all the facts, you
leave me no alternative.

Everybody out.

Come on, brothers.
Keep the line moving.

Messrs Wade, Ceramics Limited.

Dear sirs, with reference to
our meeting last January,

when you expressed an interest
in taking over this business,

I must now advise you

that I am in a position to
consider a favourable offer.

- In the mean...
- No...

I beg your pardon, Miss Withering.

I'm sorry, Mr Boggs, but
I can't let you give up.

I've no alternative. Two weeks
of this strike has finished us.

What is to become of me? I've
given my whole life to Boggs.

Oh, naturally, I
shall arrange that

you be taken over with the firm.

But I don't want to be taken over.

I just want to carry on with you.

Of course, I do appreciate
your loyalty, my dear.

No, you don't. That's the trouble.
You never have appreciated me.

What?

I've worked for you for 30 years.

And in all that time, have you
ever sat me on your knee,

or asked me to go away for
a naughty weekend? No.

Really, Miss Withering.

You've never even
pinched my bottom.

Ooh.

I am not in the habit
of interfering with

other people's seating
arrangements.

If you don't mind, we'll
continue with the dictation.

Oh, damn the dictation. I don't

care what you think
of me any more,

but I'm not going to
stand by and watch

you throw everything
away like this.

Miss Withering, you're
pressing on my keys.

Then, William, fight back. I'll be

at your side. I'll
work for nothing.

We can do it, William. I'm
sure we can do it together.

I don't want us to do it together.

You've borne all this too long,
William. You've lost confidence.

All you need is a good prod.

Oh. I assure you, that is
the very last thing I need.

Lean on me, my dear.
Take strength from

me. Together we'll see it through.

Ooh-ooh.

Ooh.

Blimey, talk about the power game.

Oh.

Dad, I'm sorry we barged
in on you like that.

I had no idea you and
Miss Withering were...

We weren't and, what's
more, we never have.

It's just that she was upset,
worried about her future.

After all, she's not
getting any younger.

She's not getting any.

Yes. Well... Did you have
any luck with the union?

None. The Industrial
Relations Committee's

come back from Rio all right,

but the Action Committee's
gone off to Russia.

Well, I suppose that's that.

Why are there no pickets on
the gate? It's after nine.

They're probably on strike.

Dad, look.

I can't believe it.

They're coming back.

I had a feeling they would today.

- Why today?
- It's the annual works outing.

Yeah... Oh.

Well, I suppose we'd better
get ready, Mr Plummer.

- Ready? For what?
- Dad, you're not going with them.

- Yes, I am, my boy.
- But why?

Because I have suddenly
decided, after all these years,

that what I've been missing
is a right good booze-up.

No Fred, then?

No. He's off on
another sales trip.

What a pity. Today of all days.

I know. I spent half
the night trying

to talk him into having it off.

I wouldn't have needed
any persuading.

I bet.

You've got nothing to worry about.

I shall be very happy to
look after you today.

Oh, ta.

That'll be nice, won't
it, Maud? Mr...

Plummer's offered to
look after us today.

Oh, that'll be lovely, Mr Plummer.

Pleasure.

I was just saying to Chloe, it's
not much fun without a man.

You should know.

Ooh.

You've never done it before?

No. Have you?

- Oh, loads of times.
- What's it like?

Well, my mate Vic arranges it all.

See, we get to Brighton
about 12 o'clock

and then we have this slap-up
meal, serviettes an' all.

What do we do after?

Well, we can do anything
once we're there.

We can go on the
pier. Eat winkles.

Throw stones in the water.

To be frank, Mr Coote,
I've never tried it.

Really, Miss Withering? Well,
you've certainly missed something.

- I'm always ready to learn.
- Oh. Well...

Er... it's a bit
difficult to show you

here, but I can tell
you how it's played.

First of all, you deal out five
cards to each person, you see.

You know...

I can't think why I didn't notice
you at the factory before.

The day I got taken on,
they all went on strike.

You're lucky. I had to work
three weeks before I got one.

I'm on my own today, you know.

So I gathered, yes.

It's the best way.
Why lumber yourself

with a bird going
down to Brighton?

It's like taking coals
to Newcastle, innit?

If you say so.

Oh, yes. The place is
full of spare. The

last time we went, we
had to fight them off.

Like flies, they were.

Well, some people attract
them, don't they?

Just like dustbins.

Er, yeah. Yeah. I suppose so.

Look, if you're going
to be on your own as

well, I wouldn't mind
showing you around.

Oh, thanks all the same,
but I don't think you

ought to disappoint
all those poor flies.

Of course, I'd love to spend
the day with you, Vic.

- Would you?
- Yeah.

Oh, well, that's all
right, then, innit?

Come on, boys and
girls. This is where

we're supposed to have
lunch. Follow me.

Lunch time.

Good morning.

Ah, good morning, brother. We
are the Boggs & Son's outing.

Oh, yes, and I'm sorry
to tell you this,

but I'm afraid we
can't do you lunch.

Oh, no. I'm starving.

What? But I booked
it... six weeks ago.

Yes, I know and I'm
sorry, but our entire

restaurant staff has
gone on strike.

Gone on strike? Well,
they can't do that.

Listen who's talking.

The bar's open and
there are cold snacks,

but that's the best
we can offer you.

Well, that just isn't good enough.
Who do they think they are?

They're just a bunch of
downtrodden workers,

being exploited by an
unscrupulous management.

You should know that.

What does it matter?
A drink will do me.

Hear hear. Cheer up, everybody.
The drinks are on me.

This way, sir, please.

Don't you worry. I won't let
them get away with this.

They are taking the bread out
of the poor workers' mouths.

There's nothing we can
do about it, Vic.

No.

Of course there is. I
am not going to be

pushed around by a bunch
of ruddy anarchists.

And I'm going to
tell 'em. Come on.

Ah. Hey, you.

What's all this about you
lot being on strike?

That's right, mate. We are.

What about it, then?

Tell him, Bernie.

You're taking the bread out
of the poor workers' mouths.

You don't say.

You're just a bunch of ruddy
anarchists, that's what you are.

Really? Who says so?

He does.

There you are, Mr Spanner.
Just in time for your drink.

Same again all round,
please, barman.

Ah, there you are, Vic.

Well, we certainly
told him, didn't we?

♪ She'll be coming round the
mountain when she comes ♪

♪ She'll be coming round the
mountain when she comes ♪

♪ She'll be coming
round the mountain ♪

Myrtle, listen to me.

Will you go away and
stop bothering me?

- No, I damn well won't.
- Now, then. Now, then.

You heard what Myrt
said. So buzz off.

If you don't get out of the
way, I'll knock your head off.

Yes?

Yes.

Bernie.

Now, now, Mr Lewis, we
don't want no trouble.

No? Who's going to stop it, then?

Me, if I have to.

All right. Go on, then. Go
on. Try it, then. Try it.

All right, but don't
say I didn't warn you.

Now you've really done it.

Oh, for God's sake.

♪ Singing aye aye
yippee, yippee aye ♪

Gosh, I am sorry, Vic.
Are you all right?

♪ Singing aye aye yippee,
aye aye yippee ♪

♪ Aye aye yippee, yippee aye ♪

Oh, splendid. Splendid.
Let's have more drinks.

Oh, no. Come on.
Let's go for a walk.

There's a smashing front here.

There's a smashing
one there an' all.

Saucy.

I know. I know. Let's all go
on the pier and have a winkle.

You can have one here,
just through that door.

Oh. Ha-ha. No, let's
go on the pier.

Come on, man. Come on.

Look. The hall of mirrors.

We have a lot of
conferences down here.

There's nothing to
it. I'll show you.

It looks quite easy.
Let's all have a go.

Hey. Hey. Watch it.

One in my pipe.

Come on, then.

Skinheads.

Ha-ha-ha. That showed him.

Ah.

There's something I
want to have a go at.

Come on, then.

Hold it. Hold it. Perfectly
still. I'm going to take it...

now.

How was that?

Beautiful. Bern. Beautiful.

Come on, Vic. Let's
have a go on the mat.

What? In front of everybody?

Oh, you mean the helter-skelter.

Yeah. Come on.

Hey, Bernie. We're going
on the helter-skelter.

Come along, now.
You've had enough.

You've got to have
something to eat.

Now, one moment.

There was a young
fellow called Reg,

who went with a girl in a hedge.

When along came his wife,
with a big carving knife,

and cut off his meat and two veg.

Yahoo.

Whoo.

Yahoo.

Whoo.

Oh, Vic, darling,

I've not had so much
fun in all my life.

Thanks.

Ah. Whoo.

We are the champions.

Oh, what was that digging in me?

It was only my camera.

Mr Boggs, I've found a
fortune-teller. Shall we try it?

Fortune-teller,
certainly not. Waste

of money. Fakes,
that's all they are.

Sitting, looking at their
crystal... whatsitsname?

Balls.

I quite agree.
Absolutely ridiculous.

I don't mind having
a go. I love them.

You do? Come on, then.
Let's have a bash.

Never mind, Miss Withering. Have
a cockle. Much better for you.

Oh, do you think I ought to?

I mean, I've heard
that shellfish do very

strange things... in
a sex way, I mean.

Really? Ooh, let's watch
'em for a bit, then.

Anybody home?

Look. Gone to lunch,
back in the near future.

The foreseeable future,
I hope. Ha-ha.

- We'll come back later.
- Wait a minute.

I've got an idea. Hang on.

But I don't want
my fortune told. I

already told you. I
don't believe in it.

You will, this one,
Mr Boggs. She's

marvellous. Go on. Be a sport.

- Oh, all right, then.
- Go on, then. In you go.

Oh.

Excuse me, dear. Customers.

- I know. I saw you coming.
- I beg your pardon?

In the ball. Ah,
yes. You are indeed

in need of help. Please be seated.

Oh, thank you. Come along, dear.

Now, then, do you wish
me to prognosticate?

Oh, please do. We'll
wait. Ha-ha-ha.

Please, I must have absolute
silence to establish contact.

Ah. The mists are clearing.

I see a picture forming.

All around you are
strange-looking objects.

White and shining.

Tell me, do lavatories play
a big part in your life?

What? Why... yes.

They do, as a matter of fact.

I thought so. You are a
cloakroom attendant.

Certainly not. I manufacture them.

I have a factory.

I see a picture appearing.

The factory is about to
stop and fall into ruin.

- Oh, no.
- Unless...

Unless what?

There is a woman who loves you.

Her name begins with...

W.

Is it Widdling?

Withering. Miss Withering.

Withering. That's it.

Your affinities will
be closely entwined.

Don't be disgusting.

I see...

a marriage.

And one, two,
three... 14 children.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

- No.
- William. Come back.

William.

Not bad.

Do you want to do me now?

Not half. Let me get
these things off first.

Ooh.

William.

William, come back.

William.

Excuse me.

Hey. Switch it off. Switch
it off. My girl's in there.

Let me go.

Let me go.

No. Not until you listen
to what I've got to say.

Oh.

- Now, do you see this?
- No, I don't.

What is it, anyway?

It's a special marriage licence.

What?

A special marriage
licence, my darling.

Now, do we use it
or do I tear it up?

Oh.

Lewis.

Darling.

Here. You leave her alone.

Do you hear?

Put her down.

Oh, no. Excuse me a
minute, darling.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Blimey, they're
supposed to be here at

6:30. Where do you
think they've got to?

Search me. What do you suppose
happened to old Myrtle?

I don't know and what's
more, I don't care.

Ooh. What's this coming, then?

Oh, naughty.

Come on, then, ladies.
Off you come.

Come on.

Looks like Fred's not
home yet. No car.

No, he said he probably wouldn't
be home till tomorrow night.

Oh. It's a shame, innit?

Looks like Beattie's asleep.

Good.

I mean, erm... good for her.

Chloe. Oh, blimey, Chloe.

Yes, Sid?

Nothing.

I think we ought to go to
bed. Our beds, I mean.

Yeah, I suppose so.

I would have liked to ask
you in for a cup of tea.

You would?

But you know how the
neighbours talk.

Yes, that's true.

And I suppose you
couldn't come in with me

at this time without
someone seeing us.

I suppose not.

Not that we'd be... doing what
they might think we'd be doing.

Oh, no. No. Of course not.

But, of course, if Fred did
get to hear about it...

Yes, that's quite right.

Not worth it, really. Not
just for a cup of tea.

Oh, well.

Good night, Sid.

Night. Sleep tight.

Tight is the word.

Bloody neighbours.

Mr Boggs. Tea.

WC. Tea.

Thank you.

Very nice...

Miss Withering. What
are you doing here?

This is my room, Mr Boggs.

Oh, I see.

What?

Then what am I doing here?

Well, I'm afraid you were in no
fit state to look after yourself,

so I had two of the men
bring you up here.

Oh, well.

That was very thoughtful...
Oh. I beg your pardon.

I didn't realise they'd
undressed me as well.

They didn't.

You mean you...

Don't worry. I know what a
man looks like, you know.

And you're not all
that much different.

Miss Withering, erm...

Yes?

Did we get off... Did I get
off? Straight to sleep, I mean.

Don't you remember, William?

No, I don't.

Then that is something we shall
always be wondering about.

Isn't it?

Charles.

Charles.

Oh, hello.

Get up and come inside at once.

You've been drinking, haven't you?

Well, you see, Agatha, I
had some rather bad news.

I don't give a damn, and I may
as well tell you, Charles Coote,

that I married one drunk and I'm

damned if I'm going
to marry another.

That was the bad news, Agatha.

You see, I'm afraid we won't
be able to get married now.

What do you mean? What
are you talking about?

Because Mr Boggs is
going to close down the

works and that means I
shall be out of a job.

Close down the works, why?

Because of the strike.

I knew it.

It's that little sod
Victor's fault.

He's at the back of all this.
But I'll tell you something.

I'm not going to let that little
swine mess up my bloody life.

All right, brothers, we have got
to keep a full picket line today.

Cos I have heard that some of the
men want to come back to work.

Oh, do they?

If they want to, how are
we going to stop 'em?

Force.

Whatever happens, we
have got to stand firm.

Can I have the cricket bat? I
don't know how to play tennis.

All right, William, I'll take it.

Thank you, Miss Withering.

- Now, William.
- Oh, I beg your pardon. Hortense.

That's better.

Boggs & Son.

Mr Boggs' personal
secretary speaking.

Oh, it's you, Mr
Lewis. Yes, he's here.

Hello, Lewis, my boy. I apologise
for not getting home last night.

Yes, I got laid up... erm held up.

That's funny. I was going
to say the same to you.

No, no. There's nothing
wrong. Far from it.

The fact is, I got married.

Married?

Yes, that's right. To
Myrtle. Myrtle Plummer.

Does her father know?
That'll be a surprise.

I know it's a surprise,
but I had to marry her.

No, no, no. I mean
it was the only way.

No, we booked into a
hotel. We've been driving

all night, you see, and
we want to get to bed.

At long last he said,
under his breath.

You can say that again.

No. Not you. Dad. I was
speaking to Myrtle.

Do you mind if I don't come
back to work for a few days?

Not at all, my boy. Take
all the time you want.

I've decided to take up Moore's
offer for the firm, anyway.

Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd...

You've what?

You can't do that, Dad.

Oh, no. No.

I've got to stop him.

Well, here I am at
long last, darling.

Get dressed as quickly as you can.

What?

We've got to get back.
I'll explain later.

- Something important's come up.
- But won't it keep?

Oh, I do hope it will.

Excuse me, WC. Have you seen
my daughter this morning?

Your daughter, Mr Plummer, no.

She left Brighton with
your blooming son

and she hasn't been
home all night.

I wouldn't worry about
that, Mr Plummer.

Your daughter Myrtle has always

commanded great
admiration and respect

and I'm sure Lewis will
see that she gets it.

That's what I'm afraid
of. Listen to me, WC.

What's that?

Let's go and see.

Hello.

Looks like a showdown.

Now, listen.

We are on official strike,
pending confirmation.

So, until then, there will
be no return to work.

What's the point in
our going on with the

strike if it means Boggs
has to close down?

That is neither here
nor there, brother.

So why don't you... go home
and stop making trouble.

Us making trouble?

All we want to do is
an honest day's work.

All we want to do
is... All we want...

Listen, brother, bolshie
talk like that got

this country in the
mess it's in today.

Now, listen, fellas,
the last thing

that we want is any violence.

So at the first sign of
anything, don't argue.

Don't get involved.

Bash 'em.

Oh, well, we might as
well go home again.

That's it, then. I don't reckon
we'll have any more trouble now.

I don't know about that.
Just look at this lot.

Blimey. My old woman's there.

And mine.

- Stop.
- Mum? What are you doing here?

I've come to knock
some common sense

into that moth-eaten
brain of yours.

Please, Mum, not in
front of everyone.

Ah, now you're ashamed.
And so you should be.

Now, then. Shift your
arse out of the way and

let these good people
in to do their work.

I must warn you ladies that this
strike is quite legitimate.

That's more than
they say about you.

I must ask you all to
disperse peacefully.

Disperse, crap. Now,
are you going to get

out of the way, or do
I have to make you?

We must stand firm
on our principles.

Oh, yeah?

It is the democratic
right of every

worker to do whatever he likes.

- We must stand firm...
- Ah, shut up.

It is a democratic...

Shut up. Give me that,
you little squirt.

- Mum, please.
- Go on. Come here.

Now, then. This is what I
should have done years ago.

Mum. Ow. Ow.

Ow. Mum.

Oh, Mum. Ow.

Will somebody open
those damned gates?

Thank you, ladies.

Sorry about that row,
Mr Boggs, but we

thought you might
need a little help.

We'd like to come back to
work, if that's all right.

I can't tell you how much I
appreciate this moving gesture.

Such a wonderful
display of loyalty.

Cut the cackle and let's
get on with the work.

Well done, Beattie. All
right, you can go home now.

But I thought I'd stay on for a
bit, Sidney. Make a change for me.

- Stay on?
- Yeah.

Oh, all right, then. Come on.

Come on.

Oh, brothers. Brothers,
you're not going to let

a bunch of women tell you
what to do, are you?

Don't they always?

Oh, no. Don't let's give
in like this, brothers.

Be firm. Be firm. Make a stand.
Has it all been for nothing?

There are alternatives, you know.

Bernie, don't just stand
there. Do something.

Well, I don't know about
you blokes, but I'm

not going to let any
woman take my job.

Now, then, come on.
Let's get back to work.

All right, then. All right, then.
Go back to work. See if I care.

Don't expect me to
join you. Nothing on

earth would get me
back in that place.

Nothing on earth, I tell you.

Excuse me, but they sent
me from the exchange.

I'm the new canteen girl.
Can you tell me where I go?

Oh, yes. I was just going in
myself. I'll show you where it is.

Yes, we've got a lovely
pair of canteens here.

And a nice lot of people. You'll
like them. They're very nice.

What's going on?

Ooh.

Chloe, about last night, you know,

when you asked me in
for a cup of tea.

What about it, Sid?

I'd like you to know
that I wanted it badly.

The tea, I mean.

It's a bit late for
that now, isn't it?

No, no. There must be
another chance, surely?

Next year maybe?

Even sooner perhaps.

Hello, Beattie.

- Getting on all right, then?
- Oh, yes. Lovely.

I've been thinking, I think
I'll take a permanent job here.

You'll what?

Well, it seems much more
sensible than sitting

at home talking to a
silly bird all day.

Well, I don't know. There's no
harm in talking to a bird, really.

Oh, well, you should know.

Here you are, dear.

And anyway, I could come on the
outings with you, couldn't I?

Yes. That's right.

What do you want?

Well, I'm still
employed here, aren't

I? That is unless you
want to fire me.

- Supposing I did?
- That would be victimisation.

Oh, no, you don't.
Go on. Get working.

Right.

But I want it clearly understood,
I'm only doing so under protest.

Knickers.

- Better now, Maudie?
- Oh.

Oh, Mr Plummer. Oh. Ha-ha-ha.

Myrtle, where the
hell have you been?

Now, now, Dad. Before you
sound off, it's all right.

- We're married.
- Married?

That's right. Mr Plummer. I
hope you don't object, Dad.

Dad. Don't object?
My daughter marries

into management, you
ask me if I object?

Of course I object.

But that's absurd. You're
management yourself.

How dare you insult
me like that. I'm

works foreman and
don't you forget it.

- Didn't my dad tell you, then?
- Tell me what?

In return for all the
financial help you

gave him, he's having
you made a director.

- Director?
- Yes.

Oh, no. No. I'm a worker.

I don't want to sit
on my big fat...

Come on, Lewis. I
think we'd better go.

I'll kill that bloody budgie.

Here, Vic. There's no
paper in that loo.

What was that, Bern?

I just said there's no paper
in that toilet again.

Well, well, well.
There's a situation.

- Bernie.
- Yeah?

- Don't just stand there.
- Right, I know.

Nip out and buy a couple of rolls.

Hey, hey. Good lad.

Come on, you lot.
Don't hang about.

Carry on working.