Tying the Knot (2016) - full transcript

(HIGH-PITCHED VOICE)

Hi. I'm Kate McLennan.

(HIGH-PITCHED VOICE)

Hi. I'm Kate McCartney.

We've both got family histories

of dementia.

Welcome to the The Katering Show

Wedding Spectacular!

(NORMAL VOICE) I don't think

we're allowed to throw that.

(NORMAL VOICE) Fuck 'em.

Yeah, let's get out of here.

This place is giving me the creeps.

Yeah.

It smells like sad books.

(WEDDING MARCH PLAYS)

Our fans are always sending us

messages about weddings.

"McLennan, will you bake

our wedding cake?"

"McLennan, will you do our catering?"

"McCartney, will you marry me?"

It's every girl's dream

to get married.

McCartney,

what would your dream wedding be?

To not have one.

(BOTH LAUGH)

What about you?

Oh, look, mine will be

filled with alcohol,

people saying nice things about me,

I wouldn't be there...

Oh, no - that's my dream funeral.

(BOTH LAUGH)

Just kidding. I love a good wedding.

Well, I don't,

but our producers told us

these episodes rate

through the roof, so here we are.

So, should we get cracking?

Absolutely.

We received a special email

from an Anne Edmonds,

who writes, "Hi, girls.

Love the show."

Everybody does, Anne.

"I'm marrying my soul mate

in a beach wedding in March."

Oh! Good!

I love a good wedding, Anne.

"I know you two are very busy" -

we are -

"but I was wondering,

would you ever consider..."

No.

"..creating a sit-down menu

for my special day?"

There it is.

There we go.

There it is.

"I'd love canapes, an entree,

a choice of three mains,

"a dessert and a wedding cake,

some vegetarian options,

"a take-home treat,

a cocktail for arrival..."

OK, I think we've heard

quite enough from you, Anne.

We're not making

any of that shit, Anne.

We're making canapes,

and that's it, alright?

Sit-down beach wedding!

It's not fucking Home and Away.

I know.

No-one wants to go

to a sit-down wedding, Anne,

where they're forced to talk

to strangers for the evening,

because the bride and groom

have decided to mix everyone up

like we're doing trust exercises at

a holiday camp for young Christians.

I'm a thirty-fucking-six-year-old

woman, Anne.

I don't want to make new friends.

If anything, I want less friends,

less people to disappoint.

When I go to a wedding,

I just want to relax

and chat to one or two people

online from the comfort

of my own home.

Let me tell you this, Anne.

The only reason I'd want to sit

next to a stranger at a wedding,

is if that stranger wants

to take me off to the toilets

with a crisp 5 note,

in which case, I'm more than happy

to sit next to your recreational

fisherman cousin from Yeppoon.

But if not, we need to be up,

we need to be mingling

with the barman,

who is sympathetic to the fact

that we are at a wedding reception

on a fucking boat!

The last wedding I went to,

the venue burnt down.

Now, I didn't do it,

but I can appreciate good work

when I see it.

Mm.

Of course, the most common complaints

about canapes at a wedding

are that they're too small,

there's never enough...

And that I don't want to be there.

So we're making big,

main meal size canapes -

so, large mini-burgers,

large fish and chips.

And a large mini-pancake

with some salmon bullshit on top.

If your guests are still feeling

a bit hungry,

they can bring along

a bag of snacks

or, I don't know,

follow their instincts and leave.

Just kidding, Anne. (CHUCKLES)

I...love a good wedding.

So here are all the ingredients

for Anne's beach wedding canapes.

McCartney,

you're a 35-year-old woman.

Sure.

How many weddings

do you think you've been to?

Oh, not many, 'cause my friends

are poor and gay,

and also, I don't have friends.

You?

Oh, I've been to heaps.

Yeah, my friends and family

haven't let the issues

of marriage equality

and compatibility get in the way

of procuring a set of French

gift registry knives.

Oh, that's nice.

Yeah, they're really great...knives.

(SPRAY CAN HISSES)

I do love a good wedding,

but personally, the only benefit

I can see to having a wedding

is all the attention that you get.

But you can also get that

from shoplifting.

Yes, plus you get to wear

a nice dress,

but again, you can also get that

by attending a formal dinner

for an Iraqi head of state,

or by winning an award -

say, Australia's premiere

entertainment award, the Gold Logie.

I know which one I'd choose.

But some people - like you, Anne -

genuinely love the idea

of dropping 20 grand

on a party held at a beach

that was, until recently,

a designated crime scene,

because it makes them really happy.

I mean, it doesn't make us happy,

but don't take your cues from us.

I wish my cat had a phone

so I finally had someone to text.

And I fantasise about getting

sick enough to go to hospital,

just so I can have

a little bit of a rest.

Point is, we're not a good gauge.

McCartney, what makes you happy?

NCIS. You?

Oh...

Oh, gosh, I know this.

Um...

Oh, um...

Now, McCartney isn't negative

about marriage

just because she has a dark cloud

hovering above her person.

She's also a bisexual -

isn't that right McCartney?

Yes. Thanks, McLennan.

And it seems insane to me that

half of me is allowed to get married

whilst apparently

the other half isn't.

Yeah, that must be hard,

particularly if you want to marry

maybe a close female friend,

or a coworker, but you can't,

because it's forbidden.

It's forbidden love...

Not in love with you.

Yeah.

Yeah, no, yeah.

Yeah, you... We should keep

things professional. You're right.

Now, where is that dill?

Where is that dill, guys?

Does anyone know where that...

Where's...where's it...

Where's it gone?

This is creme...

This is creme fraiche.

Fraiche? Fresh? Fraiche? Fraiche.

This is creme fraiche.

Today, I'm reviewing a typical

wedding drinks list -

flat beer, cheap domestic sparkling,

Sauv Blanc in a dirty glass,

and a red wine blend that will

make you flirt with your cousin.

Just remember

the drink mixing rules -

never drink champagne after beer,

never drink red wine with an aunt

who's defriended you on Facebook,

and never drink whisky,

because you will pick a fight

with a five-year-old called Corey

who's getting more attention

than you on the dance floor,

even though

he's not a better dancer,

he's just wearing a little tuxedo

and he has a cochlear implant.

Whatever, Corey.

If you're going to mix your drinks,

just be literal about it.

Mm.

Well, that tastes like

a chemical burn,

but you will be out cold

by the speeches.

I give that nighty-night cocktail

five "what happened to the bride?

She used to be normal.

"She used to be my friend.

"Oh, that's right -

she married a cock" out of five.

Where are you going?

I'm done.

The tablecloths are pressed,

the candles are lit,

and some plastic furniture

has been dressed in white -

a beautiful nod to the bride's hymen.

Yes, we've reached the end

of the The Katering Show

Wedding Spectacular.

I am convulsing with sorrow.

Me too, because I've said it before

and I will say it

till I'm literally dead -

I love a good wedding.

Right, let's serve up the food.

Mmm, it's delicious,

and plenty of it.

Good luck, Anne.

I mean, really, genuinely,

good luck with your wedding

and making your marriage work.

Yeah, good luck,

you heteronormative piece of shit.

Captions by Ericsson Access Services

So, I know

about scissoring,

but what's some other

lesbian stuff that you do?

Ponytailing.

What's that?

It's when you

use your ponytail.

Oh.

Oh, look at you.

You scrub up.

Yes, I look famous.

OK, I'm ready.

Right. OK.

And the winner

of the Gold Logie,

beating Carrie Bickmore

for the fourth year

running is...

(GASPS) ..Kate McCartney!

Ohh!

(HUMS SHOWBIZ

AWARD SHOW MUSIC)

Wow!

Thank you!

Mwah! Mwah!

Thank you

so much, everyone.

I'd like to thank

my cat Beans, uh, my phone,

baking soda, the rats

in my walls of course,

komodo dragons,

and I couldn't

have done it

without McLennan's amazing

spare phone charger.

Thank you so much.

Thank you, guys.

World peace, yes? Yes.

(RESUMES HUMMING)

You'd have to wash your

hair a lot, wouldn't you?

Get oily.