Black Books (2000–2004): Season 2, Episode 5 - Hello Sun - full transcript

Subtitles - Ripped (and Hacked)
by RavyDavy - Part of the [RL] Crew

(Mobile)

Bugger. Bugger.

Yep, yep. I'm coming, I'm coming.

I'm coming, all right?

Pain in the arse!

- Where are you off to?
- I'm going to yoga.

Oh, I've often wondered...

- What?
- Don't start.

- Eva says I'm stressed.
- What does Eva know about stress?

- She has three kids.
- We've all got three kids.



- At least she's doing something.
- Oi, Thor, get on with it.

I'm only doing it once to shut her up.

I've got to go, I'm late. I'm always late.

Fags.

W-Why have you moved everything
on my desk? Where's my lighter?

Bills. Lots of bills.

Our solicitor sent her solicitor a letter
and his solicitor is billing us for it.

- Are you making coffee or not?
- We need some decent stock.

Stop, Mother of God,
go and get your hair done!

The boiler sounds like it's giving birth,

you still haven't taken
your encyclopedias out of the bath.

I want a herb garden.

What's the matter with you?
Where's my lighter?

Fran is coming to dinner,
I have to cook, clean, run the shop,



- do the dusting, tidy...
- Excuse me.

- Just tell me where it is.
- Excuse me?

- What? What?
- Do you have any Adam Phillips?

How would I know?
Go to a proper book shop.

Look, I didn't come in here
to be insulted.

Well, I didn't ask for the job
of insulting you.

You know, in another life,
maybe we could have been brothers,

running a small, quirky taverna in Sicily.

Maybe we would have
married the local twins

instead of wasting
each other's time in this dump.

But it was not to be, so...

hop it.

Manny, I'm being calm,

I am asking you
for the last time, where is my...

Who does all the shopping? Me.
All the cooking? Me.

Who gets all the stock? Me.

Who went without
so you had a hot breakfast? Me.

Look, there is your lighter there,
next to your cigarettes.

On the desk which I tidied earlier.
Enjoy your bacon roll.

Why do you always have
to make the bacon so curly?

Right! That's it, I quit.

You quit every day.
I'm going out now for some peace.

I suggest when you reapply for the job
in about half an hour

you do the interview yourself.

Why not wear your pinstripe suit,
the one that gives you a big arse?

You like the look of yourself in that.

Every bloody day...

- (Door opens)
- I don't know why I bother.

(Sighs deeply)

You interested in these?

Freud?

- Complete set?
- Yeah. Load of rubbish, really.

Don't try and push me.

Condition OK.

Bit scuffed.

20 quid.

- That's fine...
- All right, 25. That's it.

- Great, they're all yours...
- 30. 35.

All right, 40 is my final offer.

50 quid. That's all they're worth.

- All right! 60, yeah?
- Great.

Here's the money. And, er...

here's a tenner for the taxi.

That looks good.

- Hey, hey!
- What?

Brown sauce?

(Birdsong)

- Told you so.
- It's amazing.

If I was any more relaxed
you could just...

- (Mobile)
...pour me into a bowl.

Look at you smiling away.

- (Giggles)
- See?

You don't need horrible cigarettes
and gallons of booze just to feel normal.

- Is this normal?
- Yes!

That's what I'm telling you.

You change when you drink,
you're so loud.

You sit there with a fag,
cackling like something out of a brothel.

God, I don't. How horrible.

And when you're drunk,
the way you eat and swear...

Suddenly crying and then singing
and kissing terrible men.

I know, I know, I'm awful.

I worry you'll end up
with a head full of gold teeth

roaring over a vegetable stall someplace.

- I'm not that...
- Come over for the next set of exercises.

- We can have carrot juice.
- Carrot juice!

What? No, yes, I'd love to.

- Definitely, great.
- I'll see you then.

You know, I've never told you but
all those fags and booze make you reek.

- What? D-Do I?
- Stinky-poos.

No more smoking and drinking
with those two layabouts.

No, no-no, I won't.

Excuse me, can I get...?

Where were you? I called you for ages.
Manny is driving me nuts.

That's because he's got pressure
on his meridian lines.

Which...? Excuse me, c-could I...?

Do I smell or what?

(Sniffs) Yes, because you're full of things
that are bad for you.

What? Listen, he's making me miserable.

You are miserable because you are
always guzzling, gulping or puffing.

What's wrong with you?
I'm talking about Manny.

You know, the fruit storm
I happen to live with.

- I want a drink.
- You always want something.

In Tibet, if they want something,
know what they do?

- They give something away.
- Do they? Do they?

That must be why
they're such a dominant global power.

Excuse me!

You should stop smoking and drinking.
I haven't had anything for two hours.

- Why not?
- Yoga.

Don't mess around with that stuff.
I read it's very dangerous.

It's amazing.
It's like having sunshine in your veins.

Here we go, Mary Poppins.

It is a shame the way
people pollute themselves.

I mean, look around you.
Just look, what do you see?

I see intelligent, attractive people

who smoke and drink all the time
and never get sick or die.

Or bore the bollocks off their friends.

Excuse...!

This is pointless. I'll see you at dinner,
which he is making a big deal out of.

You are being irrational.
The only way to inner peace...

Stop talking goo.

The only thing that will bring me
inner peace is a beard-seeking missile.

(# Manny humming)

(Footsteps on stairs)

Are you trying to kill me?
You left a box of books on the stairs.

Sorry I bought something
that will actually sell.

- What? What is it?
- Freud, complete works.

Drivel. A waste of money.

So what kind of filth is spewing out
of your hatch tonight?

Mini medleys of chicken
with summer berries.

You know I hate student food.

To start, and then
daube of Argentinian lamb

with a julienne of red roots,
celeriac mash and salsa verde.

I bet you forgot to buy the plonk.

The wines will be a Tavel,
followed by Primitiva or Navarra.

Well, I want a drink now!

There's the two litres
of your Spanish antifreeze.

Let me know when
you want your food chewed.

- I'll wait till you put your teeth in, dear.
- Don't start...

Oh, isn't this nice?

What were those funny-coloured things?

Vegetables.

You know I'm allergic to vegetables.
You are trying to kill me.

Excuse me.

- (Slams plates down)
- What's the matter with him?

His energy centres are misaligned.

- Oh, Christ!
- And you're feeling like this because...

I feel like this because he never thinks
of anyone but himself.

- Fran, I've made something for you.
- Oh, Manny.

It's your favourite - rum and chocolate.

- Oh...
- Oh, yes, kissy-kissy. Ugh.

I can't really have any.

- I'm avoiding all stimulants.
- Oh, listen to you!

You're becoming one of them,
going to the other side.

The land of sandals, spoon-benders
and yogurt-fanciers.

Everybody farts a lot
because they don't know how to laugh.

Everyone should meditate.

Oh, let's, then we can all make some tofu

for the dolphins who live in the fridge.

Fran is trying to improve her life,
you could support her.

It's shite. Like the Freud.
How did you price that rubbish?

I didn't. I was... (Kicks table)... cooking!

How very convenient to leave
all the back-breaking labour to me.

Yoga. Freud. (Scoffs)

Fran, I need to talk to you.

He treats me like a child. I can't cope.

He eats all the sweets,
he says they'll make my hair fall out.

I found a baby monitor under my bed.

- We'll sort it out right now.
- What will we do?

- Close your eyes.
- God, Fran...

(Fran) And keep them closed.
Take a deep breath.

Stick out your tongue and roll your head.

Ahhh-uhhh.

Bluhhh...

"The psychopathology
of the inverted sociopath."

(Continues droning)

This is all about him.

Mania.

And relax. Now fold your arms.

And sway them gently.

That's it.

Mother complex.

He's got the lot!

OK, and raise your head...

and open your eyes.

- Now, doesn't that feel better?
- Yes.

But he's becoming impossible.
Look, he hasn't left anything for us.

(Belches)

(# Whistling merrily)

- Breakfast!
- What?

Ow! (Groaning)

- What's happened? What is it?
- (Stammering)

- Hang on.
- (Screams)

Take that one, oh, erm... Vitamin C?

- Ow!
- Nasal spray?

Fungicide.

What's this?

Why did you do that?

- So you could use the towel.
- Oh, you're insane.

Get out.

Jam.

According to Freud it's dangerous
even to be in the same room as you.

We'll have to replace
all our cutlery with plastic.

And then I want to get you
electronically tagged.

Bernard, pass the butter, please.

- This?
- No, that.

- What did you say?
- I said, "No, that."

You said, "No, Dad."

There you go again, projecting.

I wish I'd never bought the stupid books.
I'm not projecting.

I've never seen such projecting.

It's in CinemaScope
with Dolby Surround.

You're deranged. You need help.

- I'm normal.
- Normal?

What other grown man
makes soldiers for his runny egg

and then divides them into rank?

- Just a bit of fun.
- Yeah?

- So I can eat this one?
- Don't touch the colonel!

It'll upset the rest of the men.

Call a shrink, you're nuts.

And so is your whole platoon.

(# New age)

- (Eva) Breathe in.
- (Laboured rasp)

- And breathe out.
- (Heavy rasp)

And come down. (Exhales deeply)

And then raise your hands up
and say, "Hello!"

- To the sun.
- (Strained) Hello, sun.

- You don't actually say it.
- It's not even sunny.

(Exhales sharply)

Hey...

do you fancy some toast?

Wheat is poison.

I can't believe you had chocolate.

You didn't have meat, did you?

No! No, no, no, no.

Well, just a little bit of chicken.

And a few specks of lamb.

Fran, we're going to have to fix you.

Your chakras will be all clogged.

- (Inhales sharply)
- Eva, do you, erm...

- do you ever get a bit bored...
- (Exhales sharply)

...erm... f-feeling this good all the time?

I'm going to ignore that.

That's the toxins in you talking.
Come on, I'll centre your yang.

Ah, right. How about a special treat?

Is it that carrot thing again?

Come on.
I'm not a total killjoy, you know.

You sit tight and I'll rustle us up
some naughty rice cakes.

Here we are. Yummy!

(# Humming cheerily)

(Chuckles)

(# Hums The Stripper)

(Stops humming)

- What are you doing?
- Stripping the chicken.

- What for?
- I could make soup, salad, sandwiches.

Or a chicken cravat but it's just hassle.
We'll get a takeaway.

- Loads I could do with this.
- It's a chicken!

Chicken is finite.

You've got to move on.
What if somebody dies?

- I'll use the legs. It's thrifty.
- It's disgusting.

This is how Jeffrey Dahmer
and that lot get started.

You can't let go. Old boxes
of fried chicken lying around.

Then a friend says,
"I have to leave town," and...

(Imitates chainsaw)
Out with the Black & Decker.

Bits of him lying around like nibbles.

- You've got to see a shrink.
- Have a wing.

It's crunchy.

Can't you see you're not right?

(Inhaling and exhaling)

So I made him an appointment.

Can you imagine what the analyst
is finding in that horrible head of his?

(Stops exhaling abruptly)

If you two could do something relaxing
together things wouldn't be so tense.

What? Every time we bicker
we should have sex?

Just have a drink and be yourself again.

So what's it's like, then?
Fags and booze?

To be honest,
after years of smoking and drinking

you do sometimes
look at yourself and think...

Yep.

In between the first cigarette
with coffee in the morning

to that 400th glass
of corner-shop piss at 3am,

you do sometimes
look at yourself and think...

Yep.

"This is fantastic.

"I'm in heaven."

Obviously, I'm very grateful
for the job, erm...

and I don't think
he's fundamentally a bad person...

Well, I suppose he might be.

I mean, it's not a bad life after all.

Obviously, there's the cooking,
the cleaning,

doing the accounts,
making the cheese, scraping the beds.

But you know, l-I'm happy, really.

Yes, you're right, you're right.
I'm being exploited.

(Sighs) It's about self-respect, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Exactly! Exactly.
I must stand my ground.

Brilliant. Thank you so much
for your help.

Cheque all right?

The service in this place.
Erm, excuse me...

Sorry, excu-excu...

- Is something wrong with me?
- Hm.

(Authoritatively) Service.

(Silence falls)

Yes, sir?

- Two cappuccinos, chocolate cake.
- Straightaway, sir.

- Wow.
- This therapy might have helped.

- You are the king!
- There is a touch of the king.

On the house, sir. Sorry for the delay.

- King of kings!
- (Chuckles)

When the other kings don't know
what to do they call you.

The royal line does ring
from time to time.

- Oh, won't he be surprised?
- Who?

- Bernard.
- Oh, yes.

Him.

Where have you been?

- Talking to me?
- You look different. Are you on steroids?

What are you talking about,
you silly little man?

Now, look here...

Shouldn't you be serving
a customer or something?

And isn't it about time
you had a really good scrub?

It's not my fault I look like this.
You haven't washed my things.

Ah. We can't blame others
for our appearance, can we?

No, no, no, but...

I suggest you wash your own socks,
if you can chisel them out of your shoes.

I'm going for a nap
and I don't want to be disturbed.

How dare you speak to me like that!
My own son.

What did you say?

Nothing. Nothing.

It's as Freud says.
You know, the unconscious thing.

Superego, something, something...

That's exactly what he's like.

It's not as if he's never rewarded.

Maybe not in any material way...

or any other way, but still.

I may have been a little hard on him.

But he leaves boxes in the hall!
I nearly tripped and...

Yes, yes, I'm a monster,
I know, it's not his fault,

I'm a terrible bastard.

Yes, right, thanks for your help, bye.

One complete set of Freud,
?200, thank you.

- (Door opens and closes)
- Manny?

Your wages. Sorry they're late.

Oh, thanks. Er, I was just going
to get us some lunch.

No, no. I've done that.

- That's awfully kind of you.
- Manny!

It's nothing.
You're welcome, it's nothing.

Wa-hey!

Go on! Give him a kiss! Go on!

- You're pissed.
- (Giggles)

Yeah, I know.

Come on, open the bootle.

What? What are you looking at? Oh, oh...

I cracked, didn't I?

Eva said I had to give up milk and peas
and God knows what.

What's wrong with fucking peas?

I told her she could
stuff it up her chakras.

And now she's not talking to me.

Come on, open the bloody wine.

Go on, Manny, get a move on.

- Please.
- What?

Wouldn't kill you to say please.

You know what,
I'm going to have you spayed.

Go on, Manny, resign. Again. Go on.

- I am. I resign.
- I've had enough, I'm going out.

Yeah, go on, I'll mind the shop for you.
I can be both of you.

"Bernard, Bernard, it's not fair.
Bernard, here's your tea.

"Oh, Bernard,
can I have my pocket money?"

"Oh, Manny, for the last time, shut up!

"Mother of God,
I think I'm going to kill ya."

- Now, that is mad.
- (Belches)

Subtitles - Ripped (and Hacked)
by RavyDavy - Part of the [RL] Crew