Black Books (2000–2004): Season 3, Episode 6 - Party - full transcript

- Manny.
- Hm.

- Manny.
- Hm.

- Manny.
- Ah-ah.

What time is it? Can we close up yet?

Hey, you're still open. It's Friday night.

Friday night? We should have
been closed hours ago.

Time to get out of these work clothes.

Look, Bernard, look at my new phone.

It's got web access, it's got a camera,
it can do everything.

- Can it stop boring conversations?
- No, none of them can do that.

Mine can. Shut up about your phone.



I think tonight's
gonna be something special.

- We should open our best bottle.
- Not the ?4.49!

Tonight's the night. This is
the stuff Napoleon would have drunk

if he'd been a bit strapped
and he couldn't get anything else.

Mm. Mm! Audacious.

Mm. Look at the robe on that.

Mm. Ah, strawberry notes.

I'm getting caramel, I'm getting bitumen.

I'm getting red wine up my nose!

Notice anything different about me?

You've turned into a heron.

No.

Wait a minute, I've got it.
Your ears are bigger.

My hair! Isn't it perfect? Aren't I divine?



I'm more me than I've ever been.

I can't believe you didn't notice.

Men have a different way of noticing
hair. Which is not noticing it.

Gianni, my stylist,
only charged me 85 quid.

My stylist is free.
He's called Manicio.

I do it with a bread knife. Zip, zip, zip.

- I'm feeling a bit top-heavy.
- Ahh.

Mm. Mm. S...

Mm.

Why am I here,
wasting my hair on your eyes?

I should be getting slavishly admired.

Ah, but you will.
Because tonight... we go out.

- Why?
- Cos it's Friday.

It's Friday night.

It was Friday night last week
and it'll be Friday night every week

until we're dead and even then the
whole, rotten business will go on.

But it's Friday now
and we're here, young, alive.

- He's right. We should go out.
- What are the options?

- Erm... cinema.
- No smoking.

- Bowling.
- Can't do the shoe thing.

- Theatre.

What about a restaurant?
We could try Yo! Liver.

- I know of a party.
- What party?

- My friends John and Ann. Teachers.
- What's the place like?

Big kitchen/living room. Friendly place.

Right. So, it's a fridge-centred
25 to 40s party.

Chilli-shaped fairy lights,
beer in the bath.

Lots of yuppies, dinkies and yummies.

Lively fun but it won't
get out of hand. Yes, I'm listening.

- My hair says, "Go, baby!"
- Yes!

- Sounds awful. How far is it?
- Two minutes.

Too far. We're not going.
We've got all we need here.

Oh, that means it's just us three again.

- We could sit in the garden.
- Garden?

There's a garden out the back.
I'm sure it's still there.

Come on.

Right, so you don't want
to sit in the garden.

We'll just have a nice glass of wine, OK?

There's more here somewhere.

Ooh, no. No, there isn't, Bernard.

Friday night, no booze.

Crisis. What can we do?

I know, we'll go to the party.
That's what we'll do!

I am picking up a certain keenness
from you about this party.

- There's no other reason to go?
- Absolutely not.

- Except there is a... girl.
- A what?

Girl. She's gonna be there.

I've met her before
and I was hoping to meet her again.

We don't have to wait for Bernard.

It has to be all three.
If I go with you and get talking to her,

then you'll be hovering, hovering.
And a girl gets awkward, awkward.

Because she thinks that
you and I are a thing, thing.

But all three of us go, then I catch
her eye, peel off, natural, natural.

We need Bernard to get to my person.

You know I don't approve
of you seeing other girls... people.

Who is she, this so-called person?

Rowena. She's a friend of Ann's.

Oh, I see. Ro-weena.

Ro-weeena.

And what am I supposed to do

when you do the underpants-Charleston
with this insane, blind tart?

Why are you so angry?

- I always get angry when I'm furious.
- It's no big deal.

Before you move to the country
to raise your bearded freak circus...

What's she like?
What are her prospects?

- She's nice.
- Oh, she's nice?

Don't make me get sick
into my own scorn.

Does she play the viola? Embroider?
Is she kind to the servants?

I just know that I like her.
And there's a chance she likes me.

- That's all.
- Right, we are going to this party.

Cos I'm trying to picture
this girl who likes you.

And all I can see is you in a dress.

- Come on, come on.
- Oh, oh, wait. We can't go yet.

- Why?
- I need my kit.

Kazoo. Snuff.

Thimbles. Amulet.

Swabs. Plums.

It's things to accidentally
leave behind, near to Rowena.

She'll find them later
and I can ring her up.

Can't you just ring and say,
"I'd like to see you again"?

Don't be stupid.
I don't want her to think I'm gay.

- Can we go now?
- Yeah. Let's par...

Don't you dare you the word "party"
as a verb in this shop!

Let's p... otter along
in order to attend the party.

- Fran, get the wine.
- Sure.

What? Lies! Subterfuge!

Seething corruption!

Oi! You lot! Be quiet!

Shut up!

Is it here?
No. Here. You live... here.

The key won't go in the thing!

- Bernard, you're using your finger.
- Oh, yeah.

- My hair. Is my hair still good?
- Yeah, you're a vision.

See? I told you about hair power.

Three blokes put their phone numbers
into my new phone.

Look.

I'm dancing.

- Why aren't you dancing?
- There's no music.

Sing us a song, then. You're Irish.

That's what the Irish do
after a drink, isn't it?

What would I sing?

Mm... something about cliffs
and a girl with golden black hair.

And the English all being bad.

- Sing it yourself.
- Fine.

# Oh, Eamonn, Danny dear

- # I miss the Galway Bay

# And I'll sing for all I got

# And a riddle-diddle Dublin
and a riddle-diddle Donegal

# The English are all bollocks #

Oh, no. This is no good,
we need proper music.

Let's have a dancing competition.

I'll go first and then it's you, Manny, OK?

'# Pushing up the ante
I know you got to see me

- # Read 'em and weep... #
- I'm going next. That's rubbish.

I saw you at the party -
you embarrassed us.

- I'll have you any day.
- You can't do this.

# The ace of spades
the ace of spades #

Why would I want to do that?

Why would I want to when I can do this?

- Oh...

Oh...

Oh! What is this... I'm drinking?
It's disgu...

It's like a choc ice
fell into a bottle of bleach.

It's children's booze! What's yours?

Bludge. It's quite good, actually.
You don't even have to drink it.

You just rub it on your hips and
it eats right through to your liver.

- Manny, what's yours?
- Delicio's beetroot liqueur.

- Give us a bit. Swap, come on.
- No. It's mine!

Manny, don't be a baby.
It sounds nice. Pour some.

I'll have one with ice and on fire.

- Come on.
- It's mine. It's all mine!

- I'm gonna get blind drunk.
- Don't be silly.

- You'll regret it tomorrow.
- No!

Why are you always
bringing the mood down?

I didn't wanna leave that party,
it was great.

No, it wasn't! The music
was too loud, the food was cold.

The drinks were few
and the people many.

It was everything I expected.
And less.

I'm never going outside again
unless I need someplace to throw up.

Anyway, you got your chance with her.
What did you talk about?

Offshore wind farms.

I couldn't think of anything else.

Never mind. I'm sure you left
a bunsen burner behind.

You can get it tomorrow and propose.

No! I couldn't find
the right moment to plant anything.

She kept following me around, in
the kitchen, the bedroom, bathroom.

Every time I put something down,
"You dropped your kazoo.

"Ooh, you got snuff on your plums."

A total waste of time.

Frankly, you're doomed.
You and all the shy people are.

Natural selection
favours the loud and aggressive.

I don't mean this in a bad way
but genetically you are... a cul-de-sac.

OK. OK, I tried.
All right? It didn't work.

At least I tried to make
a connection with another person.

When have you ever done that? Eh?

Exactly. You don't actually have a heart,
Bernard. Just a shard of ice.

- Flint.
- Sorry?

Flint. I always saw it as a piece of flint.

Oh. You don't see yourself as a human.

You... you... you're some kind of
superior species, aren't you?

Homo Bernardus. Scorning every fool
who believes in happiness.

Manny, shush.
This is the beetroot talking.

You don't know what love is.

You don't un... You don't know!

- I had a girlfriend. She died.
- And anyway... What?

That's right. Her name was Emma.

Somebody you barely know
knocked you back. Big deal.

I should be living with her by now.

Instead, every morning
I look through my cornflakes

to see your big,
mad, snaggle-toothed head.

So excuse me if I'm a bit...
out of sorts sometimes.

Would you like some beetroot liqueur?

You can have it.
You can have the whole bottle.

Really, I mean it.
You can have nearly all of it.

- Whoa! Don't go mad.
- I don't feel like a drink, anyway.

I'm making tea. Who wants tea?

That is the saddest story I've ever heard.
Poor Bernard.

The worst part of it is...

She isn't actually dead.
She lives the other side of Priory Road.

What?

Bernard told me about her
three years ago.

A year after that, I started doing
this exercise class run by a clown.

- Yeah?
- Circusise, it was called.

We had to wear
these really, really big shoes.

So the step stuff was really hard.

It was like this. It went...

Two, three, four.

Two, three, four.

And throw the bucket of water.

- Two, three...
- Yeah, Fran, Fran.

- Try to stick to the story.
- Oh, right. Yeah.

Afterwards, we'd go for a pizza.
One time, we talked about boyfriends.

This girl, she says
that she once got engaged

to this awful Irish guy...

called...

Bernard. The only way
she could think of getting out of it

was to get her friends
to say she was dead.

- But she wasn't... dead?
- No, Manny.

Which is why she was having
a pepperoni with extra cheese...

years later.

- Why haven't you told Bernard?
- Oh, I couldn't deal with all that.

Can you imagine? All the shouting
and the blaming. No, be very messy.

No, now, listen. Oi, you don't tell him.

- Don't you ever tell him.
- No.

- No, Manny, I mean it.
- I won't. I won't do it.

- Not even in ten or even 20 years.
- No, no way.

- No, no.
- What about a nice game of Monopoly?

Oh, yeah, that is a good idea.

Yeah. Yeah. OK, all right.
Here we go.

So, OK, Fran, you be the hat.
I'll be the dog and, Bernard, you...

She's alive! Bernard, she's alive!

Fran told me. Fran knows her!
Ask her. Ask Fran.

Emma lives in London.

Still. I'm sorry, Bernard.

- So, you're saying she must have...
- Yeah.

I don't believe you.

Well, look. She's in my phone.

That's her full name, isn't it?

I... I still don't believe you.

That's her and me at her last birthday.

One of the many she'll have,
still being alive.

Her dental records.

It can't be her!

OK. Here's her birth certificate.

I keep it safely inside
the envelope with the photo of her

reading yesterday's newspaper,

wearing an "I love life" T-shirt.

So. So... house rules as usual.

Fines in the middle.
If we throw three doubles...

- How long have you known this?
- Couple of years. Does it matter?

Oh! We all want Pall Mall, don't we?

- Who else knows?
- Nobody. Hardly anybody.

A few people.

Mr Singh at the newsagent's.
Oh, and your parents, I told them.

And I tell people at parties
if your name comes up.

Well, maybe I know
a few things about you.

- Maybe I've got a few little facts.
- I've thrown a seven! Beat that.

Manny doesn't know what name you
were born with. Have you met Enid?

N... Don't let's go down this road.

The letter you wrote to your mother
as part of the self-help programme?

You couldn't find it. I posted it.

Manny, you did get into
the Open University.

But Bernard tore up the letter.

I read your personal ad, I saw that.

"Intelligent, funny, 30-something female

"seeks solvent man for sex
and possible friendship.

"Sense of humour irrelevant."

- I've been reading your short stories.
- That's different.

Ah, but it's good. Listen to this.

"Feared by men and admired by women,

"Brendan Blake turned
from the window and patted Larry,

"his barely hominoid, milk-fed gimp."

You went to the party looking like that.

I think that covers everything.

- Hello?
- Rowena!

Hi. Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

We were talking at the party.

- Yes, hi, hi.
- Hi.

- And you left something behind.
- Did I?

You were drinking out of this.

I thought maybe
you wanted to keep the cup.

So I asked Ann where you lived and...
But you're busy.

- I'm sorry. I'm stupid.
- No, no, no.

Thanks for bringing it.

I'm really, really pleased
that you came round... with... it.

Oh, for Christ's sake!

Well... thanks. Thanks.
I'll just put that there.

Safe and sound.

So... Erm...

- That's about it, really.
- Right. Right.

Well, th... thanks for...
er, bringing it round.

Offer her something, you fool.

Oh. Oh. S-Seeing as you're here,
would you like some tea or coffee?

Or Bovril? Or a herbal coffee?

- Tea's nice.
- Tea! Coming up.

I'll help you make it.

Aah. Good for Manny.

I'm sorry, I should've told you
about Emma but she asked me not to.

I was too good for her, anyway.

She had arms like a stevedore.
Stay and have a drink, will you?

Oh, no, no. I've gotta go home.

I'm not sleeping in the skip again.

I'll just lie down, just to rest my eyes.

I've got a date tomorrow.

I've gotta look nice.

Could I talk with Emma... Oh, it's you. Hi.

Yes. That's right. That's right, it's me.

I'm very well, th... Actually, no, I'm dead.

That's right, actually, physically dead.
Not funny now, is it?

I'm haunting you, that's what I'm doing.

Well, why don't you f...

You can't hang up on the undead!

Shut up!

Did you want something?

Yes, I want not to hear any
squawking or squeaking or squealing

and if I do
I'll throw you both into the street.

Right.

Nighty-night.

Eh?