Bottom (1991–1995): Season 3, Episode 5 - Finger - full transcript
After coming home from a cricket match, Richie learns Eddie has stolen 'Cannonball' Taffy O' Jones car keys and they learn 'Cannonball' Taffy O' Jones is getting married to a woman who looks like Ted Rogers. Richie and Eddie steals the car and end up at a hotel where they pretend to a husband and wife.
You were.
I wasn't !
- You were !
- I wasn't !
- You were !
- I bloody well wasn't !
- You were out, Richie !
- I was NOT out !
You were !
Bloody, bloody, bloody wasn't !
Look, the umpire's decision is final.
You weren't even looking the right way !
- I was.
- You weren't ! You weren't even on the pitch !
Yeah, but I've got the coat, haven't I ?
Edward, you were in the bar.
Yeah, but I was looking out of the window.
It was 200 yards away.
How could you tell I was out ?
- Well, Spudgun told me.
- Spudgun was captain of the opposite team !
Um, yes... but it was his round
and I didn't want to ruffle his feathers.
Look, look, look.
I wasn't out. It was a no-ball.
Look. Listen to me, right ? I'm English, right ?
I invented this game, racially.
Now, when you bowl, you're supposed
to walk nicely back to your mark,
get that sort of far-away look on your face,
masturbate enigmatically...
...you know, for about four or five minutes,
so the cameras can all get you in focus...
Oh ! And then... And then...
And then it's time for loppity-loppity-lop,
nice and gentle, over the arm.
Pop ! Richie gets a six, round of applause,
gentlemanly conduct, welcome to the crease.
Everyone thinks I'm great. Right ?
Well, that psychotic Welsh bastard,
"Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones,
doesn't want to know anything about that.
He just stands behind the wicket, looks at me
and goes, "You ignorant English wanker !"
And wangs the ball straight at me !
Before I had any chance
to do any hoovering with the bat.
Next thing I know,
I'm lying in a pile of stumps and blood.
That's the last time I step out
for the Spud-U-Like Irregulars.
- Second eleven.
- Yes, all right. I've got a bad leg.
I'm not surprised, the way you polish the ball.
We had a tea break waiting for you.
- Did you ?
- Hey, never mind. Look on the bright side.
We've made a healthy profit
of four hats, five jumpers
and three pairs of trousers !
- Three pairs of trousers ?
- Yeah.
Things got a bit racy in the bar afterwards.
- I don't remember that.
- No, you were lying unconscious
in the middle of the pitch at the time.
That's what started off the merriment, actually.
Even old Ted "Unlucky Suicide" McGloomy
had a bit of a laugh.
So much so, his rectum prolapsed.
Did it ?
Poomf !
Well, as long as I can make someone happy.
- Did you check the pockets ?
- Is the Pope Jewish ?
- No.
- Isn't he ?
- No.
- Oh, well, I checked 'em anyway.
- And ?
- Well, the recession is biting everywhere.
- Er... Two pound seventeen and six...
- Ooh !
In old money.
A strange voodoo doll of you covered in pins.
This is weird !
Ooh !
And..."Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones's car keys.
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-HA-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA !
- Are you thinking what I'm thinking ?
- I don't know.
I'm thinking
about that weather girl, Susan Charlton,
stripped naked and covered in Marmite,
bouncing up and down on a bungee rope.
- What are you thinking ?
- Er... well... something else, actually.
Not getting that black-haired Gladiator's
legs wrapped round your face again ?
No, no, no.
Haven't thought about that for weeks.
I really must pop upstairs later
and have a good think about that.
No, I was thinking about that Welsh
cricket cheat, "Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
Fantasy not your strong suit, is it ?
Shut up, Eddie ! I've got a plan.
We're going to take these keys, right,
get inside Taffy O'Bastard's car,
and that light by the rear-view mirror ?
We're going to switch that on.
Then, when no one's looking,
we're going to scarper.
And within a couple of weeks, he's probably
going to have a pretty flat battery.
- Scary darey.
- I'm going to do it !
I'm going to bloody do it !
- Where's his car ?
- He's getting married today.
- Is he ?
- That was his stag cricket match.
- That's why we let him use the slingshot.
- I see. So are we going to the wedding ?
No. You were only there
to be knocked unconscious.
It was a wedding present from the lads !
Oh...
Nice.
- So, who's he getting married to ?
- Well...
- You know Ted Rogers ?
- He's not ?!
He's not getting married to Ted Rogers ?!
No. He's getting married to that bird
from the abattoir that looks like Ted Rogers.
Oh, that's a shame, isn't it ?
It'd be nice to be married to Ted Rogers.
- Yeah !
- Yeah. Three-two-one !
Three-two-one !
God, I bet he's good in bed.
Which church are they getting married in ?
Oh, it's that Welsh one, Saint, erm... Saint...
I know it ! Saint.
That's it ! The one with all the gob on the walls !
Righty-ho, then !
Let's grab our hankies and get down there !
- Lechy da !
- Dechy iah !
There it is !
Did you get the stockings ?
- I've got the tights.
- What ?
- Well, that's all that was on the line.
- Oh. Did you get any knickers ?
- No.
- Oh, well. We'll run with the tights.
I can't see a bloody thing. Where's the car ?
- Probably over there, behind the gusset.
- Right. Come on, then, Moriarty.
Let's do it ! Phwoar !
They didn't wash them very well, did they ?
- I think that might be me.
- Is it ? Never mind. Come on.
- I'll break in, you keep a look out.
- Righto.
- No, Eddie, you keep a look out.
- All right.
Oh, Jesus ! I think I've got whiplash !
Oh, it's no good, Eddie.
I'll have to drop my disguise.
- Is that wise ?
- Well, medically, yes.
My eyes are stinging
because of the niff. Come on ! Let's do it !
Eeny, meeny, miney...
Oh ! Well done, Eddie !
We did it ! Great !
Rrrrrrrrmmm ! Rrrrrr !
Hey, Eddie ! Why don't we park the car
round the corner where he can't find it ?
Eh ?
- I'm going to bloody do it ! Eddie ?
- What ?
How do you actually drive a car ?
Well, you wait until no one's looking,
then you grab the wires from
under the dashboard and jam them together.
Then you drink another can of Special Brew,
aim it at the post office
and put a brick on the accelerator.
Right... I'll stick the key in
and see what happens.
Righto.
Look, special offer.
- Step on it. I think they've noticed.
- But I don't know how to drive ! Shit !
- Shit !
- Mind that bus !
This is the life, eh, Eddie ?
This is just like "Thelma and Louise".
Well, we are
on the right-hand side of the road.
Yeah... What ?! Bloody hell !
Bastard ! Road hog ! I was driving on that bit !
Richie, look at this !
It's a lovers' romanta-saver bargain
luxury glamorous weekend break for two !
These must be
Taffy O'Jones' honeymoon tickets.
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha !
- Oh ! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha !
- Ha-HA-ha-ha !
- Where is it ?
- The Marvelloso Splendido Hotelo.
Wow ! Where's that ?
- Wolverhampton.
- Double wow !
Hey, Eddie, which way is Wolverhampton ?
- Well, it must be over one of these hills.
- Right. Eeny, meeny...
- We'll just take the quick route.
- Right you are.
Look out ! Hedge !
Cow !
- That's a bit rude, isn't it, Richie ?
- No, no, it was ! It was a cow !
Oh !
What are those two big hairy things ?
- Oh, that's a pair of bullocks.
- Is it ?
Put your trousers back on !
Wow ! Marvelloso !
Splendido !
All right, Mrs O'Jones ?
- All right, Mr O'Jones ?
- Let's have some fun.
Yeah, see how much of a bill we can work up.
That'll teach that Welsh bastard ! Let's go.
- Ooh, Eddie ! Eddie !
- What ? What ?
- Your jugs are on the wrong way round.
- What ?!
It said "lifts and separates",
not "slings 'em round the back" !
I mean, they're absolute crackers, Eddie.
They're just back to front !
- Well...
- Well, just act naturally.
- Ah, you must be the happy couple.
- Pass !
- N-No... Yes.
- Yes ?
- Yes. Correct.
- Which one of you is Mrs O'Jones ?
That'll be me.
There are some flowers here for you.
Hang on ! What do you take me for ? Some sort
of baggy-trousered ballet enthusiast ?!
- Get me a Scotch and a copy of "Men Only" !
- Edwina !
I may be a bird, but I'm handy with me dukes !
Leave him alone ! I'm sorry.
She had too much vodka in church.
Don't worry, I'll give her
a good kicking once we get upstairs.
Right. The bridal suite is ready for you.
The what ?
- Well, you're in the bridal suite.
- No, no. No.
No. No, no, no, no.
No, no. N-O, no, no, no.
No, we'd rather have two single rooms.
Oh, dear ! Things not going swimmingly ?
Never mind, most couples
are nervous at this stage.
No, I do not want to stay
in the same room as her.
Him. It !
Well, we have no single rooms available.
Yeah, but what if I want to have a wan... ?
A... A wangle...
It's a medieval folk dance.
What if I want
a medieval folk dance in the night ?
- I'm afraid the bridal suite is all we have.
- Ooh, he's testing my nerves !
- What sort of a hotel is this ?
- A full one.
- Yeah. Good answer.
- Yeah, well done.
Well, all right, then, Eddie... Eddie-wina...
You'll just have to sleep on the sofa.
On my honeymoon !
Sleep on the sofa on my honeymoon ?!
My mother warned me about you, you bastard !
You brute ! You gadabout !
Oh, how I've suffered in the name of love !
Only women bleed !
I think I'd dispute that, actually, Eddie.
- Well, do you want some more ?
- All right ! I've had plenty !
- You can have the bed, darling.
- Why, thank you, tulip.
- And, daffodil ?
- Yes, carnation ?
Get this !
Whoa ! Oh, me bollo... !
I mean, me girl's bits !
I mean, me nothings at all.
In fact, thank goodness I am a girl,
otherwise that would have really hurt !
I think I'm gonna pass out.
Yep. I was right.
She only got married this morning.
She's still a little on the shy... unconscious side.
Come along, darling !
Let's slap on a condom and get on with it !
- What time's dinner ?
- Seven o'clock.
Seven o'... But that's 20 minutes away !
God, I'm going to have to do it four times !
Yo-heave-ho !
- Your bags, sir.
- What ? Are they showing ?
Oh !
Ah, see what you mean. Yes...
Jolly good place to put them. Excellent, yes.
Wha... ?! Sod off !
You earn more money than I do !
Give me some of yours !
Complete bastard !
Mmm...
Looks like an opportunity for a little
medieval folk dance in the bathroom.
Oh...
Hello.
You're one of those
sort of servant girls, aren't you ?
If I may say,
that's a smashing blouse you have on.
I've just brought
your complimentary honeymoon biscuits.
Oh, you raven-haired temptress
from below stairs.
Ha ! I expect you're rather nervous
to meet me, aren't you ?
- Don't be nervous.
- I'm not.
Oh ! A spirited filly. Ha !
And good teeth, too. Yes. Yes, fine stock.
- Mmm ! Firm !
- Do you mind ?!
It's interesting, this relationship, isn't it ?
- Interesting in what way ?
- Well, in that you're the servant girl...
and I'm the master.
And you have to do everything I say !
I was wondering
if you wanted me to turn your bed down ?
- What do you mean ?
- Some guests like the sheets pulled down.
Do they ?
Yes !
Yes, and get down on all fours and scrub out
the fireplace so your bum wobbles about.
Oh, and while we're on the subject,
I wonder if you could show me
how to use the shower ?
Well, um...
You just turn these taps on here.
No, no. I mean, I wonder if you could
properly show me how to use it.
You know, get your kit off...
and get all sort of soapy and let rivulets
of water run between your heaving breasts.
I thought you just got married this morning ?
Well, yes, but my wife doesn't understand me.
I think you'll find
I understand you only too well !
Edwina ! This is not what it seems !
You were trying to pork her !
No ! I simply don't understand
how the shower works.
He WAS trying to pork me.
Of course he was, my dear. Men !
P'shaw !
They're only ever
after one thing ! Sexist bastards !
Us birds should stick together.
Maybe in the nude.
Tell me, my dear...
are you at all interested
in the pleasures of Sappho ?
Perhaps you'd like to come on a winter
wonderland cruise to the Isle of Lesbos ?
You're worse than your husband !
I tell you what,
if anyone else kicks me in the knackers,
this charade is going to be difficult to sustain.
They're getting pretty hard
to conceal. They must be this big !
Yes, all right, Eddie. Shut up.
- Act posh or we'll get found out.
- Right.
- Can I help you, sir ?
- Not just now, thanks.
Good evening, madam.
- Do I know you ?
- Do you have a reservation ?
Yeah, I'm not sure
we're going to get away with this.
- Would madam like to come through ?
- How dare you ?!
Mon dieu ! Qu'est-ce qu'il se passe ?
Eddie ! I mean, Edwina ! Don't bop the waiters.
- This is a posh gaff.
- Sexist bastards !
My wife doesn't speak French, but Je do.
Jacques Delors, Tour de France...
- Garlic suppository...
- Coq-au-vin.
Edwina ! Don't be so foul ! I'm sorry.
She just got married. She's still frisky.
You'd understand. You're a frog !
Now, where is Je's table for Je and Je's missus ?
Would you care to walk this way ?
- I'd rather not.
- Well, I'm afraid I have to.
These saucy honeymoon undies
are a bit on the cutting, severe side.
Don't worry, Eddie. You can take them off... later.
Or maybe I'll rip them off with my teeth...
Oh, no ! It's not a girl, it's Eddie !
It's not a girl, it's Eddie...
Oh, God, I hope I don't get drunk !
- Here we are.
- Yeah, well, I can see that.
Oi ! Careful of me jugs. Don't pop 'em !
- Would you like to see the menu ?
- Yeah, I'll be too pissed to read soon.
Oh, yes. This is a very poncey menu.
Yes. Very poncey. It's all in French. Yes.
Don't understand a word of it. Yes. Marvellous.
- What do you recommend ?
- The chef does a very good red mullet.
Oh, really ? He does
a very good Leonard Rossiter.
- Oh, well...
- Go on ! Go on !
Oh, all right. It is brilliant.
Right ! Shut up, everybody ! All of you, shut up !
You, you, shut it ! Now. All right ?
I'm only doing this once,
'cause when I get started, I never stop !
Because I am bonkers, right ?
OK ! Here goes. Leonard Rossiter.
Oh, Miss Jones !
Oh, Miss Jones !
- Well, that was incredible.
- Thank you.
I've never seen anyone
clear a restaurant so quickly.
- What ?
- So, what would you like, madam ? Entr?e ?
What do you mean ? Here in the restaurant ?
I'd rather not. We'll just have a main course !
Oh, come on ! That's enough of all the bollocks !
Look, Audrey, man to man...
Well, bird to man, obviously...
We just want two plates
of top-class swanky nosh.
Le top le class le swanky le noshy.
Compredy-nony-nony ?
Ooh ! And I'll have a large Scotch.
- A double ?
- No, half a pint.
- And for the gentleman ?
- Ooh, well, diddly-diddly-do, er...
What is a top-class swanky tipple ?
- Depends where you come from, sir.
- Oh. Well, I come from Hammersmith.
- Half of mild.
- Ooh, yes. Yes, that'd be lovely.
- And bung an umbrella in it.
- Very well.
- Would you like to see the wine list ?
- Um... I think we'll just have one of each.
Very well. One red, one white.
- No, no. One of each number.
- Certainly, sir.
And now... bugger off again !
Hey ! And, Audrey... no dribbling in the gravy.
We know what you French are like.
Yeah ! And no hollowing out the fish fingers
and poking dog shit in.
'Cause you get me every time with that.
I certainly do !
Very good, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me,
I think I'm getting a hernia...
with laughing so much.
Oh, yes. We are pretty crazy guys !
You have to watch it around us two.
- Well, except that I'm a bird.
- Oh, yes. He's a bir...
- Oh, he's gone. Charming man.
- Lovely.
I mean, it's marvellous service.
Hey, do you think you're on ?
It's hard to tell. This bra is so tight,
it's cut off the circulation to my head.
- The half pink of whisky is for...
- Me, thank you.
And the brown shit
with Fairy Liquid on top is for monsieur.
Great ! I'll have another three
of those, thank you.
Oh, I think this could be
a very entertaining evening.
Hey, it's no wonder
us birds wear high heels, is it ?
I mean, these urinals are a bit
on the high side, aren't they ?
Hey ! You're a proper bird, aren't you ?
I'll just finish, then we'll have
a bunk-up in a cubicle, all right ?
I beg your pardon !
Look, it's all right.
My husband doesn't understand me.
- Why not ?
- I'm too pissed to talk most of the time.
Come on. It'll be all right.
I'm a lesbian, you know.
Yes, we used the A40 most of the way.
Had awful trouble getting over the River Severn.
We used a bridge in the end. Yes.
Hmm ? I don't know what kind of car it is.
It's the orange one
with the blood splattered up the side
and the dead cow in the boot.
You could've had a few chops !
Not at all ! Not at all !
Yes, I suppose I am a bit
of a great bloke, really, aren't I ? Yes...
That was a nice chat.
Shame I haven't got someone real to talk to.
Rich ! Rich !
Oh, excuse me, Sir Robert.
She who must be obeyed beckoneth.
What ? Well, come down and shoot
MY grouse some time. Yes, his name's Keith !
- Rich !
- Coming, fruit salad !
- It's happened again, Rich !
- Oh, no !
Let me give you a tip. If you're pretending
to be a lesbian, keep your tackle hidden.
Bonsoir. Would the lovely,
brand-spanking new bride -
a sad loss to us hot-blooded men -
like a drinky-winky on ze house ?
- Do you mind ?!
- Shut up, Rich !
Why, that's very kind of you. Thank you.
- I'll have a pint of mild.
- A pint of mild.
- Yeah, make it a double !
- A double !
What a cracking pair of buns you've got there !
I bet you can pull more
than pints, eh ? Eh ? Eh ? Eh ?
Come on, let's run away together
to a brewery far from the rat race !
Edwina ?
Edwina !
Eddie ! Stop talking to that man !
- He's just trying to get inside your pants !
- He'll have a job, mate ! The expansion.
- The elastic's on critical.
- Right, that's it ! Time for bed !
Bugger off ! I think I'm on here !
Look ! I don't want to cause a scene, darling,
but we are married, and you do what I say !
Oh, you lovely, lovely,
lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely...
barman !
Come on ! Let's have another five pints !
Yeah ! Five pints !
Right ! That is it ! We've only been married
12 hours and look at you, you trollop !
Openly flirting with the barman !
Everybody's looking at us !
Everybody knows we're newly-weds !
Right ! That's it !
I'm taking my belt to you, you trollop !
Wait for me.
Ooh-la-la ! Such a big girl, eh !
- Careful, don't pop 'em !
- Get your hands off my wife !
- I was picking her up !
- Listen ! He openly admits it !
All right, that's it ! Come on !
Put up your dukes, you foul French... letter !
Look ! It's Ted Rogers in a dress !
Don't try that old "Look, it's Ted Rogers
in a dress" routine on me, buster.
Come here and get
some old-fashioned British violence !
But it is Ted Rogers in a wedding dress...
with a seven-foot Neanderthal figure !
That's not Ted Rogers !
That's that bird from the abattoir
that's marrying "Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
"Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
That's right, you ignorant English wankers !
I wasn't !
- You were !
- I wasn't !
- You were !
- I bloody well wasn't !
- You were out, Richie !
- I was NOT out !
You were !
Bloody, bloody, bloody wasn't !
Look, the umpire's decision is final.
You weren't even looking the right way !
- I was.
- You weren't ! You weren't even on the pitch !
Yeah, but I've got the coat, haven't I ?
Edward, you were in the bar.
Yeah, but I was looking out of the window.
It was 200 yards away.
How could you tell I was out ?
- Well, Spudgun told me.
- Spudgun was captain of the opposite team !
Um, yes... but it was his round
and I didn't want to ruffle his feathers.
Look, look, look.
I wasn't out. It was a no-ball.
Look. Listen to me, right ? I'm English, right ?
I invented this game, racially.
Now, when you bowl, you're supposed
to walk nicely back to your mark,
get that sort of far-away look on your face,
masturbate enigmatically...
...you know, for about four or five minutes,
so the cameras can all get you in focus...
Oh ! And then... And then...
And then it's time for loppity-loppity-lop,
nice and gentle, over the arm.
Pop ! Richie gets a six, round of applause,
gentlemanly conduct, welcome to the crease.
Everyone thinks I'm great. Right ?
Well, that psychotic Welsh bastard,
"Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones,
doesn't want to know anything about that.
He just stands behind the wicket, looks at me
and goes, "You ignorant English wanker !"
And wangs the ball straight at me !
Before I had any chance
to do any hoovering with the bat.
Next thing I know,
I'm lying in a pile of stumps and blood.
That's the last time I step out
for the Spud-U-Like Irregulars.
- Second eleven.
- Yes, all right. I've got a bad leg.
I'm not surprised, the way you polish the ball.
We had a tea break waiting for you.
- Did you ?
- Hey, never mind. Look on the bright side.
We've made a healthy profit
of four hats, five jumpers
and three pairs of trousers !
- Three pairs of trousers ?
- Yeah.
Things got a bit racy in the bar afterwards.
- I don't remember that.
- No, you were lying unconscious
in the middle of the pitch at the time.
That's what started off the merriment, actually.
Even old Ted "Unlucky Suicide" McGloomy
had a bit of a laugh.
So much so, his rectum prolapsed.
Did it ?
Poomf !
Well, as long as I can make someone happy.
- Did you check the pockets ?
- Is the Pope Jewish ?
- No.
- Isn't he ?
- No.
- Oh, well, I checked 'em anyway.
- And ?
- Well, the recession is biting everywhere.
- Er... Two pound seventeen and six...
- Ooh !
In old money.
A strange voodoo doll of you covered in pins.
This is weird !
Ooh !
And..."Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones's car keys.
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-HA-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
Ah-ha-ha-HA-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha !
AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA !
- Are you thinking what I'm thinking ?
- I don't know.
I'm thinking
about that weather girl, Susan Charlton,
stripped naked and covered in Marmite,
bouncing up and down on a bungee rope.
- What are you thinking ?
- Er... well... something else, actually.
Not getting that black-haired Gladiator's
legs wrapped round your face again ?
No, no, no.
Haven't thought about that for weeks.
I really must pop upstairs later
and have a good think about that.
No, I was thinking about that Welsh
cricket cheat, "Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
Fantasy not your strong suit, is it ?
Shut up, Eddie ! I've got a plan.
We're going to take these keys, right,
get inside Taffy O'Bastard's car,
and that light by the rear-view mirror ?
We're going to switch that on.
Then, when no one's looking,
we're going to scarper.
And within a couple of weeks, he's probably
going to have a pretty flat battery.
- Scary darey.
- I'm going to do it !
I'm going to bloody do it !
- Where's his car ?
- He's getting married today.
- Is he ?
- That was his stag cricket match.
- That's why we let him use the slingshot.
- I see. So are we going to the wedding ?
No. You were only there
to be knocked unconscious.
It was a wedding present from the lads !
Oh...
Nice.
- So, who's he getting married to ?
- Well...
- You know Ted Rogers ?
- He's not ?!
He's not getting married to Ted Rogers ?!
No. He's getting married to that bird
from the abattoir that looks like Ted Rogers.
Oh, that's a shame, isn't it ?
It'd be nice to be married to Ted Rogers.
- Yeah !
- Yeah. Three-two-one !
Three-two-one !
God, I bet he's good in bed.
Which church are they getting married in ?
Oh, it's that Welsh one, Saint, erm... Saint...
I know it ! Saint.
That's it ! The one with all the gob on the walls !
Righty-ho, then !
Let's grab our hankies and get down there !
- Lechy da !
- Dechy iah !
There it is !
Did you get the stockings ?
- I've got the tights.
- What ?
- Well, that's all that was on the line.
- Oh. Did you get any knickers ?
- No.
- Oh, well. We'll run with the tights.
I can't see a bloody thing. Where's the car ?
- Probably over there, behind the gusset.
- Right. Come on, then, Moriarty.
Let's do it ! Phwoar !
They didn't wash them very well, did they ?
- I think that might be me.
- Is it ? Never mind. Come on.
- I'll break in, you keep a look out.
- Righto.
- No, Eddie, you keep a look out.
- All right.
Oh, Jesus ! I think I've got whiplash !
Oh, it's no good, Eddie.
I'll have to drop my disguise.
- Is that wise ?
- Well, medically, yes.
My eyes are stinging
because of the niff. Come on ! Let's do it !
Eeny, meeny, miney...
Oh ! Well done, Eddie !
We did it ! Great !
Rrrrrrrrmmm ! Rrrrrr !
Hey, Eddie ! Why don't we park the car
round the corner where he can't find it ?
Eh ?
- I'm going to bloody do it ! Eddie ?
- What ?
How do you actually drive a car ?
Well, you wait until no one's looking,
then you grab the wires from
under the dashboard and jam them together.
Then you drink another can of Special Brew,
aim it at the post office
and put a brick on the accelerator.
Right... I'll stick the key in
and see what happens.
Righto.
Look, special offer.
- Step on it. I think they've noticed.
- But I don't know how to drive ! Shit !
- Shit !
- Mind that bus !
This is the life, eh, Eddie ?
This is just like "Thelma and Louise".
Well, we are
on the right-hand side of the road.
Yeah... What ?! Bloody hell !
Bastard ! Road hog ! I was driving on that bit !
Richie, look at this !
It's a lovers' romanta-saver bargain
luxury glamorous weekend break for two !
These must be
Taffy O'Jones' honeymoon tickets.
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha !
- Oh ! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha !
- Ha-HA-ha-ha !
- Where is it ?
- The Marvelloso Splendido Hotelo.
Wow ! Where's that ?
- Wolverhampton.
- Double wow !
Hey, Eddie, which way is Wolverhampton ?
- Well, it must be over one of these hills.
- Right. Eeny, meeny...
- We'll just take the quick route.
- Right you are.
Look out ! Hedge !
Cow !
- That's a bit rude, isn't it, Richie ?
- No, no, it was ! It was a cow !
Oh !
What are those two big hairy things ?
- Oh, that's a pair of bullocks.
- Is it ?
Put your trousers back on !
Wow ! Marvelloso !
Splendido !
All right, Mrs O'Jones ?
- All right, Mr O'Jones ?
- Let's have some fun.
Yeah, see how much of a bill we can work up.
That'll teach that Welsh bastard ! Let's go.
- Ooh, Eddie ! Eddie !
- What ? What ?
- Your jugs are on the wrong way round.
- What ?!
It said "lifts and separates",
not "slings 'em round the back" !
I mean, they're absolute crackers, Eddie.
They're just back to front !
- Well...
- Well, just act naturally.
- Ah, you must be the happy couple.
- Pass !
- N-No... Yes.
- Yes ?
- Yes. Correct.
- Which one of you is Mrs O'Jones ?
That'll be me.
There are some flowers here for you.
Hang on ! What do you take me for ? Some sort
of baggy-trousered ballet enthusiast ?!
- Get me a Scotch and a copy of "Men Only" !
- Edwina !
I may be a bird, but I'm handy with me dukes !
Leave him alone ! I'm sorry.
She had too much vodka in church.
Don't worry, I'll give her
a good kicking once we get upstairs.
Right. The bridal suite is ready for you.
The what ?
- Well, you're in the bridal suite.
- No, no. No.
No. No, no, no, no.
No, no. N-O, no, no, no.
No, we'd rather have two single rooms.
Oh, dear ! Things not going swimmingly ?
Never mind, most couples
are nervous at this stage.
No, I do not want to stay
in the same room as her.
Him. It !
Well, we have no single rooms available.
Yeah, but what if I want to have a wan... ?
A... A wangle...
It's a medieval folk dance.
What if I want
a medieval folk dance in the night ?
- I'm afraid the bridal suite is all we have.
- Ooh, he's testing my nerves !
- What sort of a hotel is this ?
- A full one.
- Yeah. Good answer.
- Yeah, well done.
Well, all right, then, Eddie... Eddie-wina...
You'll just have to sleep on the sofa.
On my honeymoon !
Sleep on the sofa on my honeymoon ?!
My mother warned me about you, you bastard !
You brute ! You gadabout !
Oh, how I've suffered in the name of love !
Only women bleed !
I think I'd dispute that, actually, Eddie.
- Well, do you want some more ?
- All right ! I've had plenty !
- You can have the bed, darling.
- Why, thank you, tulip.
- And, daffodil ?
- Yes, carnation ?
Get this !
Whoa ! Oh, me bollo... !
I mean, me girl's bits !
I mean, me nothings at all.
In fact, thank goodness I am a girl,
otherwise that would have really hurt !
I think I'm gonna pass out.
Yep. I was right.
She only got married this morning.
She's still a little on the shy... unconscious side.
Come along, darling !
Let's slap on a condom and get on with it !
- What time's dinner ?
- Seven o'clock.
Seven o'... But that's 20 minutes away !
God, I'm going to have to do it four times !
Yo-heave-ho !
- Your bags, sir.
- What ? Are they showing ?
Oh !
Ah, see what you mean. Yes...
Jolly good place to put them. Excellent, yes.
Wha... ?! Sod off !
You earn more money than I do !
Give me some of yours !
Complete bastard !
Mmm...
Looks like an opportunity for a little
medieval folk dance in the bathroom.
Oh...
Hello.
You're one of those
sort of servant girls, aren't you ?
If I may say,
that's a smashing blouse you have on.
I've just brought
your complimentary honeymoon biscuits.
Oh, you raven-haired temptress
from below stairs.
Ha ! I expect you're rather nervous
to meet me, aren't you ?
- Don't be nervous.
- I'm not.
Oh ! A spirited filly. Ha !
And good teeth, too. Yes. Yes, fine stock.
- Mmm ! Firm !
- Do you mind ?!
It's interesting, this relationship, isn't it ?
- Interesting in what way ?
- Well, in that you're the servant girl...
and I'm the master.
And you have to do everything I say !
I was wondering
if you wanted me to turn your bed down ?
- What do you mean ?
- Some guests like the sheets pulled down.
Do they ?
Yes !
Yes, and get down on all fours and scrub out
the fireplace so your bum wobbles about.
Oh, and while we're on the subject,
I wonder if you could show me
how to use the shower ?
Well, um...
You just turn these taps on here.
No, no. I mean, I wonder if you could
properly show me how to use it.
You know, get your kit off...
and get all sort of soapy and let rivulets
of water run between your heaving breasts.
I thought you just got married this morning ?
Well, yes, but my wife doesn't understand me.
I think you'll find
I understand you only too well !
Edwina ! This is not what it seems !
You were trying to pork her !
No ! I simply don't understand
how the shower works.
He WAS trying to pork me.
Of course he was, my dear. Men !
P'shaw !
They're only ever
after one thing ! Sexist bastards !
Us birds should stick together.
Maybe in the nude.
Tell me, my dear...
are you at all interested
in the pleasures of Sappho ?
Perhaps you'd like to come on a winter
wonderland cruise to the Isle of Lesbos ?
You're worse than your husband !
I tell you what,
if anyone else kicks me in the knackers,
this charade is going to be difficult to sustain.
They're getting pretty hard
to conceal. They must be this big !
Yes, all right, Eddie. Shut up.
- Act posh or we'll get found out.
- Right.
- Can I help you, sir ?
- Not just now, thanks.
Good evening, madam.
- Do I know you ?
- Do you have a reservation ?
Yeah, I'm not sure
we're going to get away with this.
- Would madam like to come through ?
- How dare you ?!
Mon dieu ! Qu'est-ce qu'il se passe ?
Eddie ! I mean, Edwina ! Don't bop the waiters.
- This is a posh gaff.
- Sexist bastards !
My wife doesn't speak French, but Je do.
Jacques Delors, Tour de France...
- Garlic suppository...
- Coq-au-vin.
Edwina ! Don't be so foul ! I'm sorry.
She just got married. She's still frisky.
You'd understand. You're a frog !
Now, where is Je's table for Je and Je's missus ?
Would you care to walk this way ?
- I'd rather not.
- Well, I'm afraid I have to.
These saucy honeymoon undies
are a bit on the cutting, severe side.
Don't worry, Eddie. You can take them off... later.
Or maybe I'll rip them off with my teeth...
Oh, no ! It's not a girl, it's Eddie !
It's not a girl, it's Eddie...
Oh, God, I hope I don't get drunk !
- Here we are.
- Yeah, well, I can see that.
Oi ! Careful of me jugs. Don't pop 'em !
- Would you like to see the menu ?
- Yeah, I'll be too pissed to read soon.
Oh, yes. This is a very poncey menu.
Yes. Very poncey. It's all in French. Yes.
Don't understand a word of it. Yes. Marvellous.
- What do you recommend ?
- The chef does a very good red mullet.
Oh, really ? He does
a very good Leonard Rossiter.
- Oh, well...
- Go on ! Go on !
Oh, all right. It is brilliant.
Right ! Shut up, everybody ! All of you, shut up !
You, you, shut it ! Now. All right ?
I'm only doing this once,
'cause when I get started, I never stop !
Because I am bonkers, right ?
OK ! Here goes. Leonard Rossiter.
Oh, Miss Jones !
Oh, Miss Jones !
- Well, that was incredible.
- Thank you.
I've never seen anyone
clear a restaurant so quickly.
- What ?
- So, what would you like, madam ? Entr?e ?
What do you mean ? Here in the restaurant ?
I'd rather not. We'll just have a main course !
Oh, come on ! That's enough of all the bollocks !
Look, Audrey, man to man...
Well, bird to man, obviously...
We just want two plates
of top-class swanky nosh.
Le top le class le swanky le noshy.
Compredy-nony-nony ?
Ooh ! And I'll have a large Scotch.
- A double ?
- No, half a pint.
- And for the gentleman ?
- Ooh, well, diddly-diddly-do, er...
What is a top-class swanky tipple ?
- Depends where you come from, sir.
- Oh. Well, I come from Hammersmith.
- Half of mild.
- Ooh, yes. Yes, that'd be lovely.
- And bung an umbrella in it.
- Very well.
- Would you like to see the wine list ?
- Um... I think we'll just have one of each.
Very well. One red, one white.
- No, no. One of each number.
- Certainly, sir.
And now... bugger off again !
Hey ! And, Audrey... no dribbling in the gravy.
We know what you French are like.
Yeah ! And no hollowing out the fish fingers
and poking dog shit in.
'Cause you get me every time with that.
I certainly do !
Very good, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me,
I think I'm getting a hernia...
with laughing so much.
Oh, yes. We are pretty crazy guys !
You have to watch it around us two.
- Well, except that I'm a bird.
- Oh, yes. He's a bir...
- Oh, he's gone. Charming man.
- Lovely.
I mean, it's marvellous service.
Hey, do you think you're on ?
It's hard to tell. This bra is so tight,
it's cut off the circulation to my head.
- The half pink of whisky is for...
- Me, thank you.
And the brown shit
with Fairy Liquid on top is for monsieur.
Great ! I'll have another three
of those, thank you.
Oh, I think this could be
a very entertaining evening.
Hey, it's no wonder
us birds wear high heels, is it ?
I mean, these urinals are a bit
on the high side, aren't they ?
Hey ! You're a proper bird, aren't you ?
I'll just finish, then we'll have
a bunk-up in a cubicle, all right ?
I beg your pardon !
Look, it's all right.
My husband doesn't understand me.
- Why not ?
- I'm too pissed to talk most of the time.
Come on. It'll be all right.
I'm a lesbian, you know.
Yes, we used the A40 most of the way.
Had awful trouble getting over the River Severn.
We used a bridge in the end. Yes.
Hmm ? I don't know what kind of car it is.
It's the orange one
with the blood splattered up the side
and the dead cow in the boot.
You could've had a few chops !
Not at all ! Not at all !
Yes, I suppose I am a bit
of a great bloke, really, aren't I ? Yes...
That was a nice chat.
Shame I haven't got someone real to talk to.
Rich ! Rich !
Oh, excuse me, Sir Robert.
She who must be obeyed beckoneth.
What ? Well, come down and shoot
MY grouse some time. Yes, his name's Keith !
- Rich !
- Coming, fruit salad !
- It's happened again, Rich !
- Oh, no !
Let me give you a tip. If you're pretending
to be a lesbian, keep your tackle hidden.
Bonsoir. Would the lovely,
brand-spanking new bride -
a sad loss to us hot-blooded men -
like a drinky-winky on ze house ?
- Do you mind ?!
- Shut up, Rich !
Why, that's very kind of you. Thank you.
- I'll have a pint of mild.
- A pint of mild.
- Yeah, make it a double !
- A double !
What a cracking pair of buns you've got there !
I bet you can pull more
than pints, eh ? Eh ? Eh ? Eh ?
Come on, let's run away together
to a brewery far from the rat race !
Edwina ?
Edwina !
Eddie ! Stop talking to that man !
- He's just trying to get inside your pants !
- He'll have a job, mate ! The expansion.
- The elastic's on critical.
- Right, that's it ! Time for bed !
Bugger off ! I think I'm on here !
Look ! I don't want to cause a scene, darling,
but we are married, and you do what I say !
Oh, you lovely, lovely,
lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely...
barman !
Come on ! Let's have another five pints !
Yeah ! Five pints !
Right ! That is it ! We've only been married
12 hours and look at you, you trollop !
Openly flirting with the barman !
Everybody's looking at us !
Everybody knows we're newly-weds !
Right ! That's it !
I'm taking my belt to you, you trollop !
Wait for me.
Ooh-la-la ! Such a big girl, eh !
- Careful, don't pop 'em !
- Get your hands off my wife !
- I was picking her up !
- Listen ! He openly admits it !
All right, that's it ! Come on !
Put up your dukes, you foul French... letter !
Look ! It's Ted Rogers in a dress !
Don't try that old "Look, it's Ted Rogers
in a dress" routine on me, buster.
Come here and get
some old-fashioned British violence !
But it is Ted Rogers in a wedding dress...
with a seven-foot Neanderthal figure !
That's not Ted Rogers !
That's that bird from the abattoir
that's marrying "Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
"Cannonball" Taffy O'Jones !
That's right, you ignorant English wankers !