Good Neighbors (1975–1978): Season 0, Episode 0 - Silly, But It's Fun.... - full transcript
You don't look much like robins to me.
(Shivers)
Oh. (Chuckles)
- They're nice.
- Do you like them?
Yeah.
Little Christmas vultures.
- Did you get cold out?
- Yes.
Good.
They're good, though.
Newspaper paper chains.
I bet we're the only people
with readable decorations.
Yes. Apart from the pigs and the goat
and the chickens.
- Oh, you saw them.
- Well, I ask you.
Honestly. Paper chains in a pig sty.
Well, it's their Christmas as much as ours.
- Except for the chicken we're having for dinner.
- Misery.
Deck the halls with boughs of holly, I say.
We can't afford holly.
I know. (Chuckles)
Ta-da!
- Where did you get that?
- Up the golf course.
- That's stealing.
- No, it's not, I'm a member.
- You've lapsed.
- They wouldn't begrudge me this.
Oh, you're sure, are you?
Virtually. There are hundreds of blokes there
with shears in their golf bags.
Thief.
Got this too.
Oh...
Christmas wouldn't be the same
without mistletoe.
Stolen mistletoe.
I got a Christmas tree too.
That is too much, going round the gold course
sawing down trees.
- I did no such thing.
- Well, where did you get it?
- [ Found it.
- Where?
On my way home, outside the greengrocer's.
You just take that back. If they prosecute,
don't come to me for a character witness.
At least have a look at it first.
Just a minute. I'll just go and lug it in.
(Groans with effort)
The top snapped off. They didn't want it.
You toad.
Our gain is Trafalgar Square's loss.
A bonsai Christmas tree.
I thought we could have it on our table
as a centrepiece.
- I've already made one.
- Great. Where, where?
Oh. Smashing. What is it?
- That's a yule log.
- Of course it is, yes. Very nice.
That's only the base.
Another Christmas vulture.
- What is it?
- It's a robin.
- Thank you.
- It's quite a big robin.
Yes, the head went wrong twice
so I had to incorporate it into the body
and then it grew and grew.
I see. It's very nice indeed.
- It's not bad, is it?
- No. I tell you something else.
That'd make mincemeat
of any vulture I've ever seen.
- Right, your ear is coming off this time.
- No, no.
Get off, get off.
Mind the clothes horse. Who put that there?
(Knocking)
Good morning, Barbara. Good morning, Tom.
It's me - Margo.
Good morning, Margo.
You're perfectly correct. It is you.
I'm sorry, Tom, I haven't time for jokes.
I have an absolute crisis next door.
- What's the matter?
- Will you come? I want some witnesses.
- Is it serious?
- Of course it's serious.
It's tradesmen again.
- Truce?
- Truce.
4 I'm dreaming of a white...
(Hums)
Tom and Barbara, would you be so kind as to
measure this Christmas tree for me, please?
Yes, all right. Here we go.
- Merry Christmas.
- Oh, merry Christmas.
Don't talk to him, Tom.
Just tell me what that measures.
I haven't gone metric sol make it
eight foot five and three-quarter inches.
What have you got to say to that?
That's eight foot five and three-quarters all right.
Exactly. There you are you see,
Tom and Barbara.
- Yes.
- Absolutely.
Are we supposed to deduce something
from this, Margo?
Oh, I'm sorry.
It's his fault. I should have told you.
I ordered a nine-foot Christmas tree.
And they've delivered an eight foot five
and three-quarter one?
- Exactly.
- You picked the wrong house, mate.
Indeed he has.
Now, what have you got to say for yourself?
I like this wallpaper.
What?
My sister's got something like it in her dinette.
L'am not interested in your sister's dinette.
My only concern is that my Christmas tree
is six and a quarter inches too short.
It doesn't matter, does it?
Ours is eight feet too short.
Of course it matters.
That six and a quarter inches is a measure of
the depths to which standards have fallen.
A Oft tree is what I ordered
and a 9ft tree is what I expect.
Well, that's not a 9ft tree all right.
No, it's not. Not by a long chalk.
Excuse me. Don't mind my asking
but do you cut the hair in your ears?
- No, I was born like it.
- Only, I noticed how short they are.
I notice a lot of things, you know.
It's a hobby of mine - observing things.
- In the Observer Corps, were you?
- No, RAF.
I was in the RAF.
Do you know RAF Lyneham at all?
- Know it? I was stationed there.
- No!
I hate to break up this reunion but I think Mrs
Leadbetter wants to concentrate on her tree.
Thank you very much, Barbara.
What's to be done about it?
Having observed the high dudgeon
you've got into, I'd better take it back, hadn't 17?
- Yes, you had.
- Very well.
I've observed your shoes, by the way. Very nice.
Shall I bring the rest of the stuff in
before I take the tree away?
No, you will not.
I placed an entire order with your company.
Until my entire order is delivered according to
my specifications, I will accept none of it.
- Knows her own mind, doesn't she?
- Oh, she does.
How many trees did you order?
Only one. The rest of the order
is my complete provisions for Christmas -
food, drinks, decorations et cetera.
Your Christmas comes in a van.
It's supposed to, Tom.
- Come along.
- Very well.
Have you observed anything about me?
Yes, I have.
Your eyes - they're the kind of eyes
a man could kill for.
The sort of eyes that hint at
a deeply sexual nature.
Merry Christmas.
Oh, look, an alabaster figurine.
MARGO: I've got the front door open!
What a very nice, observant, intelligent man.
Kill for you?
JERRY: I'm not snapping, Margo.
I simply asked what you were doing in that van.
What is Margo doing in that van?
Sending Christmas back.
It's not up to specification.
Don't talk to me about Christmas.
Come along, Jerry. You're tired.
Now, you sit down there.
There you are.
Gin and tonic for Jerry, Tom.
Come along, now. Shoes off.
There you are.
Thank you very much, Barbara.
- You understand.
- Of course I do.
Merry Christmas.
I know. I sound like Scrooge.
You've all assembled in the hall at work and
the headmaster said: Have a nice holiday, boys.
You all shouted back: Same to you, sir.
It's Christmas Eve, you've got five days
of abusing your digestive system ahead.
- What more could you want?
- Half a pound of peace and quiet.
- You could order that from Harrods.
- If only you could.
It'll be one paralysing round of socialising.
I've got to put up with a mass of Music Society
and Pony Club people on Christmas Day.
You could have a mounted sing-song.
Then on Boxing Day it's the Rotary Club do.
All spinning around.
The day after that it's,
"Everybody down to the Blairs at Cheltenham."
Same crowd every Christmas.
We just stand about in different rooms,
boring each other to death.
It's just as well I did check that order.
Do I look as though I drink milk stout?
Evening, Jerry.
Margo.
Now, did you remember to send the flowers
to Aunt Clare
whose present we forgot at the last moment?
Yes.
Did you check on the roadworks on the M4
for Cheltenham?
Yes.
Did you tell Steven and Maria that we shall
have a spare goose on Boxing Day
- should they want one?
- (Snaps) Yes.
I wouldn't have thought it possible to inject
so much bile into such a simple word.
Well, I'm fed up with
all these blasted arrangements.
It's more like a NATO conference
than Christmas.
- I'm going to have a bath.
- Well, thank you very much, Jerry.
Whilst you are indulging in a bath, you might
remember who makes the arrangements.
Come on, boss eyes. I think we're superfluous.
All right, bald ears.
Barbara, are you in the kitchen?
No, I'm just going upstairs.
- Gotchal
- Don't do that!
That's my present, isn't it? Give me my present.
- It's not your present.
- Doesn't matter if I look at it then.
- It was going to be a surprise.
- Oh, itis my present!
You're bending it. Leave it. Leave it.
Leave it.
They're some crackers I made for tomorrow.
Oh.
You shouldn't have told me.
You should have kept them as a surprise.
- What do you think I was trying to do?
- Sorry.
There we are.
- They're not small.
- No, they're not small, no.
They're in proportion to the tubes in the middle.
The tubes are the tubes from a toilet roll.
- Clever.
- The colour supplement makes it colourful.
- What's inside?
- Don't shake it!
That might be the one with the Fabergé egg in it.
- Homemade, of course.
- Of course.
If I can make crackers, I can make Fabergé.
- Paper hats?
- Yes.
- Mottos and riddles?
- Yes.
- Clean?
- Fairly.
- There's only one snag.
- What's that?
- They don't go bang.
- Well, that doesn't matter.
We'll just have to shout Bang!
when we pull them.
A good idea, yes. Bang.
- Would you like a drop of cowslip?
- Mm.
If you're writing to Father Christmas,
tell him he can park in the pig sty.
No, I'm just totting up
what Christmas has cost us.
- It's got very commercial, hasn't it?
- Terribly.
Let me sit down first. Now, then.
Right. What's the total?
15p.
- What was that for?
- The balloons.
Oh, yes, they are a necessity.
I wonder how much Jerry and Margo's
Christmas cost.
A lot, judging by the size of that van.
Plus the cost of reinforcing their table
to take the weight of all their booze and grub.
And a few new dresses for Margo so she can
say, "Oh, this old thing" when people ask.
- The ISO to accompany the carol singing.
- Tranquillisers for Jerry.
That's his own fault. Either a man
is master in his own house or he's not.
You're not.
I was talking about Jerry.
I should think they'd bring the whole thing in
for under 50,000.
Whereas we can have Christmas
for a bit of effort and 15p.
- I bet it's just as good too.
- Of course it will be.
Except we can't afford a turkey
or Christmas pudding or whisky or brandy,
or afirkin of ale, or chocolates or cigars,
or really nice presents.
Oh, shut up.
I mean, a spare goose.
Margo actually said she had a spare goose.
Do I detect a touch of envy,
green-eyed Tiny Tim?
Not really, no.
They might have a spare goose but they've got
the giant Mrs Dooms-Patterson arriving.
She'll probably swallow it in one go.
Come on. The sooner you get to bed,
the sooner Santa will arrive.
Righto.
Your cotton wool beard and red flannels
are in the bottom drawer.
You mean you know it's me?
Remembering last Christmas Eve, it'd better be.
And seasonal greetings to you, Steven.
May I have a word with Maria?
Oh, thank you.
Yes, I'll hold.
- Morning, darling. Happy Christmas.
- Happy Christmas, Jerry.
How many more people
are you going to telephone?
The extension's been tinkling away
since eight o'clock.
Last one.
Then our social boats are completely burnt.
Sorry, it's a bit early.
You'll have to explain that one.
Just a moment.
Hello, Maria.
Yes. And yuletide felicitations to you.
Listen, Maria, I'll be as brief as possible.
Absolute chaos. Jerry has chickenpox.
Yes, he's covered in them.
I'm telling you what I've told the rest of the gang.
The Leadbetters must be considered
as totally out of circulation this Christmas.
Yes.
Yes. Just a moment.
All right, Jerry, I'm coming.
That was Jerry calling from his sickbed.
Yes, I will.
Yes.
Goodbye.
I gather my chickenpox is political, but why?
I want to be as succinct as possible, Jerry.
- Christmas is cancelled.
- Cancelled? Why?
- Because they won't deliver it.
- Won't deliver it?
I telephoned to check they were redelivering
our order, properly made up,
and I was informed they don't make deliveries
on Christmas Day.
Naturally I asked to speak to
the highest authority in the building.
- Who did you get?
- Fred.
An incompetent loon who styled himself
assistant caretaker. There was no-one else.
Surely when you sent the stuff back
you checked they'd redeliver?
No. I was foolish enough to assume
that the principle of customer satisfaction
had not been swept away in the lava stream
of trades union hysteria.
Oh. I still don't see why I've got chickenpox.
Why aren't we visiting other people any more?
Because if we can't have other people here,
I'm not going to other people
with a begging bowl in my hand.
I'm beginning to like having chickenpox.
- We can have a nice quiet Christmas.
- What with?
- Each other.
- No, I meant with what?
- Each other.
- I meant eating and drinking what?
Oh, yes, I see what you mean.
Having one's entire Christmas in a van
is like putting all one's eggs in one basket.
We haven't even got any decorations.
- That gin's never going to last.
- I feel totally wretched.
I don't feel so hot myself now.
I We two kings of orient are
4 Bearing gifts we travel afar
4 Something, something,
something, something
♪ Fa la la-la la Ia. Oi!
Merry Christmas!
Give us a tenner or we'll give you another one.
Morning, Tom. Morning, Barbara.
Where are the mince pies, then?
- We haven't got any mince pies.
- We'll settle for a turkey each.
- We haven't got a turkey either.
- Why? What's happened?
Christmas has not been delivered to this house.
Oh, Margo.
Don't be affectionate, Barbara. I shall cry.
You know drivers, Margo. They're tradesmen.
They stop off and drink beer. They'll be along.
They won't. They're not working today.
Well, that doesn't matter. Come to us.
We can't. We haven't been invited.
That's no problem.
Margo and Jerry, I hereby invite you.
Come on. We can't cater for the Music Society
or the Pony Club.
That's been taken care of.
I've got political chickenpox.
- Eurgh.
- Well!
That's settled, then.
Come on. What do you say?
I say that's very generous.
Thank you very much.
Eh, Margo? Eh?
- We haven't anything to bring.
- Bring yourselves.
Come along, Margo.
I need some help to peel the potatoes.
- I'm not even dressed.
- Don't bother about that, Margo. Come on.
- Whisky any good?
- Now, look, Jerry, look.
This party is on us. What else have you got?
Ahhh.
May I add something to that?
What?
Arrh.
Says it all, doesn't it?
I must say, your food really does taste like food.
Yes, it does rather.
Did I ever tell you about last Christmas?
Mrs Dooms-Patterson's corsets.
No.
Perhaps I'd better not.
I don't want to think about Mrs Dooms-Patterson
or the rest of them.
- It can't have been a pretty sight.
- It wasn't.
- I can't tell you what a relief all this is.
- It's the spirit of Christmas. Good will to all men.
Especially me.
By the same token,
do you mind if I take my shoes off?
Take your feet off if you want to.
Well, we've done the washing up.
Oh, we were just coming out to help.
Don't feel guilty. You're doing it this evening.
Oh.
You know, Barbara... Shoes, please, Jerry.
...you'd save yourself so much trouble and
dried skin if you bought yourself a dishwasher.
- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Don't worry, Margo. Have a sprawl.
That's the idea. And on with the festivities.
Steven and Maria had a conjuror last year.
Did he taste nice?
- Crackers?
- Crackers. Crackers!
Cr-rackers.
Dun ta-da!
- Good god.
- None of your shop-bought rubbish.
There's a trick with these.
They're perfectly sound,
except they do not go bang.
So... And...
Bang!
- You're crackers.
- That's right.
Come on, Jerry. One, two, three...
Bang!
Come on, Margo. And another one.
One, two, three... Bang.
Come on, Margo. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
One, two, three..
Crack.
Not bang?
I see "crack" as a more pertinent word.
- It is after all the stem of "cracker”, isn't it?
- You can't argue with that.
What have you all got?
I seem to have the inside of
a roll of lavatory paper.
Inside that.
Oh, yes.
Which do you prefer? Wellington or Nelson?
Jerry, all the nice girls love a sailor.
You'd better be Nelson.
Mind you, there's something about a soldier.
Read your motto.
- I thought you said they were clean.
- Really clean.
Come on, Margo, get your hat on.
This is the Daily Mirror.
I am terribly sorry, Margo.
Please, have the Telegraph.
Now, then. My motto.
"The ooh-ah bird is so called
because it lays square eggs."
I don't understand that.
Good.
- What about some games?
- Oh, rather.
We have a four. What about bridge?
- Or a chess tournament.
- Yes.
I'm talking about games, having a laugh.
Rushing about getting hot.
Canasta?
What was that game we used to play?
- I know. Murder.
- Oh, yes. That gets quite scary.
It frightens Tom, anyway.
Blindfold jelly feeding. We haven't got any jelly.
But those are childish games, aren't they?
Yes.
But we're adults.
We should do something adults do.
(Chuckles)
Jerry!
I know. Sardines.
They're a big laugh.
Margo, all that squeezing together in cupboards.
- I don't like squeezing together in cupboards.
- What about Strip Mah Jong?
You're just being silly now.
- True.
- That's the point. We're trying to be silly.
- Why?
- Because it's Christmas.
I don't see that being silly and Christmas
go together at all.
- They do in this house!
- There's no need to snap, Barbara.
- I'm sorry, Margo.
- Come on, Margo.
I want to open another bottle
of peapod burgundy.
I want somebody to stop the blast
with a mattress.
Of course.
Er..
Thank you.
Any bottle, is it, Tom?
Tom'?
Tom'?
Now, listen, you.
We both want you round here for Christmas
and we both want you to have a good time.
We may be silly, we may be infantile,
it may not be what you're used to
but that's the way we do it in this house. Now...
Either you at least try to join in
or you go home straightaway.
I don't want to go home.
Well, then...
It isn't that I don't want to join in, Tom,
it's that I don't know how to.
It's quite simple.
Just pretend you're somebody stupid, like me.
I could try.
- Just try is all I'm asking.
- Yes, I will try, I promise, Tom.
Please, will you let me go now?
Thank you.
Tiddlywinks anybody?
- Come on, Margo.
- Careful!
Keep close to me.
- That's it.
- Careful.
Take it easy, take it easy.
Don't rush it.
I'm not quite sure where it is.
The winners!
Champions!
- I'm sorry, partner.
- It was luck, just luck.
It was not.
- You rotten cheat.
- I demand a play-off.
I vote we go back to the pavilion
for a bit of a breather.
Only a couple of minutes
because I think I'm running into form.
Give them a rest, Margo. We're well ahead.
We won passing the orange under the chin.
We won that. Your orange went down Margo's
dress and was declared out of bounds.
Plus we were good at balancing on the bottle
and spinning the plate.
- Oh, Jerry, we are a stylish team.
- Rather.
Right, we'll see who's best.
I'm taking off my earrings now.
Come on, on your feet.
Balloons between the foreheads.
- And off we go.
- I'm... I'm hungry again.
Let's make some sandwiches first.
Let's stoke up the boiler.
Good idea. Come on, darling. Off you go.
Everyone must remember the score.
What did you do to Margo in the kitchen?
- I threatened to kiss her.
- No wonder she's joining in.
I must say, I can't remember
enjoying a Christmas more.
Oh, Jerry, I am glad.
I can safely say
this is the best Christmas I've ever had.
(Hiccups)
Sure that's not the peapod burgundy talking?
No, I'm serious.
Christmas doesn't come in a van.
You can't have it delivered.
You have to make it yourself.
We have. Another form of self-sufficiency,
I suppose.
No, it's being with friends.
True friends.
Joining in and... and...
- And where are our presents?
- Tom!
That's the only reason we asked them over,
to get a present.
Oh! Look, here are yours, anyway.
- Oh, you shouldn't have bothered.
- With our love.
- You can't afford it.
- I should have a look at them first, mate.
- The loom.
- Yes.
Well... Tom, Barbara.
I can safely say... that on the right occasion...
these will be the perfect things to wear.
What occasion will that be, Jerry?
- I can't think of it at the moment.
- Yes, they're lovely.
We'll get you your present now.
It's in the garage.
I hope they haven't spent too much.
I shall be embarrassed.
- So shall I, but I shall overcome it.
- I thought you might.
I wonder what they've got us.
It'll probably be ever so nice
but utterly useless for us.
Like a briefcase for you
to go to the allotments with.
Or a Georgian silver trowel.
- Aren't we rotten?
- Yeah.Ora...
(Mooing)
- They haven't?
- They have.
Happy Christmas.
(Shivers)
Oh. (Chuckles)
- They're nice.
- Do you like them?
Yeah.
Little Christmas vultures.
- Did you get cold out?
- Yes.
Good.
They're good, though.
Newspaper paper chains.
I bet we're the only people
with readable decorations.
Yes. Apart from the pigs and the goat
and the chickens.
- Oh, you saw them.
- Well, I ask you.
Honestly. Paper chains in a pig sty.
Well, it's their Christmas as much as ours.
- Except for the chicken we're having for dinner.
- Misery.
Deck the halls with boughs of holly, I say.
We can't afford holly.
I know. (Chuckles)
Ta-da!
- Where did you get that?
- Up the golf course.
- That's stealing.
- No, it's not, I'm a member.
- You've lapsed.
- They wouldn't begrudge me this.
Oh, you're sure, are you?
Virtually. There are hundreds of blokes there
with shears in their golf bags.
Thief.
Got this too.
Oh...
Christmas wouldn't be the same
without mistletoe.
Stolen mistletoe.
I got a Christmas tree too.
That is too much, going round the gold course
sawing down trees.
- I did no such thing.
- Well, where did you get it?
- [ Found it.
- Where?
On my way home, outside the greengrocer's.
You just take that back. If they prosecute,
don't come to me for a character witness.
At least have a look at it first.
Just a minute. I'll just go and lug it in.
(Groans with effort)
The top snapped off. They didn't want it.
You toad.
Our gain is Trafalgar Square's loss.
A bonsai Christmas tree.
I thought we could have it on our table
as a centrepiece.
- I've already made one.
- Great. Where, where?
Oh. Smashing. What is it?
- That's a yule log.
- Of course it is, yes. Very nice.
That's only the base.
Another Christmas vulture.
- What is it?
- It's a robin.
- Thank you.
- It's quite a big robin.
Yes, the head went wrong twice
so I had to incorporate it into the body
and then it grew and grew.
I see. It's very nice indeed.
- It's not bad, is it?
- No. I tell you something else.
That'd make mincemeat
of any vulture I've ever seen.
- Right, your ear is coming off this time.
- No, no.
Get off, get off.
Mind the clothes horse. Who put that there?
(Knocking)
Good morning, Barbara. Good morning, Tom.
It's me - Margo.
Good morning, Margo.
You're perfectly correct. It is you.
I'm sorry, Tom, I haven't time for jokes.
I have an absolute crisis next door.
- What's the matter?
- Will you come? I want some witnesses.
- Is it serious?
- Of course it's serious.
It's tradesmen again.
- Truce?
- Truce.
4 I'm dreaming of a white...
(Hums)
Tom and Barbara, would you be so kind as to
measure this Christmas tree for me, please?
Yes, all right. Here we go.
- Merry Christmas.
- Oh, merry Christmas.
Don't talk to him, Tom.
Just tell me what that measures.
I haven't gone metric sol make it
eight foot five and three-quarter inches.
What have you got to say to that?
That's eight foot five and three-quarters all right.
Exactly. There you are you see,
Tom and Barbara.
- Yes.
- Absolutely.
Are we supposed to deduce something
from this, Margo?
Oh, I'm sorry.
It's his fault. I should have told you.
I ordered a nine-foot Christmas tree.
And they've delivered an eight foot five
and three-quarter one?
- Exactly.
- You picked the wrong house, mate.
Indeed he has.
Now, what have you got to say for yourself?
I like this wallpaper.
What?
My sister's got something like it in her dinette.
L'am not interested in your sister's dinette.
My only concern is that my Christmas tree
is six and a quarter inches too short.
It doesn't matter, does it?
Ours is eight feet too short.
Of course it matters.
That six and a quarter inches is a measure of
the depths to which standards have fallen.
A Oft tree is what I ordered
and a 9ft tree is what I expect.
Well, that's not a 9ft tree all right.
No, it's not. Not by a long chalk.
Excuse me. Don't mind my asking
but do you cut the hair in your ears?
- No, I was born like it.
- Only, I noticed how short they are.
I notice a lot of things, you know.
It's a hobby of mine - observing things.
- In the Observer Corps, were you?
- No, RAF.
I was in the RAF.
Do you know RAF Lyneham at all?
- Know it? I was stationed there.
- No!
I hate to break up this reunion but I think Mrs
Leadbetter wants to concentrate on her tree.
Thank you very much, Barbara.
What's to be done about it?
Having observed the high dudgeon
you've got into, I'd better take it back, hadn't 17?
- Yes, you had.
- Very well.
I've observed your shoes, by the way. Very nice.
Shall I bring the rest of the stuff in
before I take the tree away?
No, you will not.
I placed an entire order with your company.
Until my entire order is delivered according to
my specifications, I will accept none of it.
- Knows her own mind, doesn't she?
- Oh, she does.
How many trees did you order?
Only one. The rest of the order
is my complete provisions for Christmas -
food, drinks, decorations et cetera.
Your Christmas comes in a van.
It's supposed to, Tom.
- Come along.
- Very well.
Have you observed anything about me?
Yes, I have.
Your eyes - they're the kind of eyes
a man could kill for.
The sort of eyes that hint at
a deeply sexual nature.
Merry Christmas.
Oh, look, an alabaster figurine.
MARGO: I've got the front door open!
What a very nice, observant, intelligent man.
Kill for you?
JERRY: I'm not snapping, Margo.
I simply asked what you were doing in that van.
What is Margo doing in that van?
Sending Christmas back.
It's not up to specification.
Don't talk to me about Christmas.
Come along, Jerry. You're tired.
Now, you sit down there.
There you are.
Gin and tonic for Jerry, Tom.
Come along, now. Shoes off.
There you are.
Thank you very much, Barbara.
- You understand.
- Of course I do.
Merry Christmas.
I know. I sound like Scrooge.
You've all assembled in the hall at work and
the headmaster said: Have a nice holiday, boys.
You all shouted back: Same to you, sir.
It's Christmas Eve, you've got five days
of abusing your digestive system ahead.
- What more could you want?
- Half a pound of peace and quiet.
- You could order that from Harrods.
- If only you could.
It'll be one paralysing round of socialising.
I've got to put up with a mass of Music Society
and Pony Club people on Christmas Day.
You could have a mounted sing-song.
Then on Boxing Day it's the Rotary Club do.
All spinning around.
The day after that it's,
"Everybody down to the Blairs at Cheltenham."
Same crowd every Christmas.
We just stand about in different rooms,
boring each other to death.
It's just as well I did check that order.
Do I look as though I drink milk stout?
Evening, Jerry.
Margo.
Now, did you remember to send the flowers
to Aunt Clare
whose present we forgot at the last moment?
Yes.
Did you check on the roadworks on the M4
for Cheltenham?
Yes.
Did you tell Steven and Maria that we shall
have a spare goose on Boxing Day
- should they want one?
- (Snaps) Yes.
I wouldn't have thought it possible to inject
so much bile into such a simple word.
Well, I'm fed up with
all these blasted arrangements.
It's more like a NATO conference
than Christmas.
- I'm going to have a bath.
- Well, thank you very much, Jerry.
Whilst you are indulging in a bath, you might
remember who makes the arrangements.
Come on, boss eyes. I think we're superfluous.
All right, bald ears.
Barbara, are you in the kitchen?
No, I'm just going upstairs.
- Gotchal
- Don't do that!
That's my present, isn't it? Give me my present.
- It's not your present.
- Doesn't matter if I look at it then.
- It was going to be a surprise.
- Oh, itis my present!
You're bending it. Leave it. Leave it.
Leave it.
They're some crackers I made for tomorrow.
Oh.
You shouldn't have told me.
You should have kept them as a surprise.
- What do you think I was trying to do?
- Sorry.
There we are.
- They're not small.
- No, they're not small, no.
They're in proportion to the tubes in the middle.
The tubes are the tubes from a toilet roll.
- Clever.
- The colour supplement makes it colourful.
- What's inside?
- Don't shake it!
That might be the one with the Fabergé egg in it.
- Homemade, of course.
- Of course.
If I can make crackers, I can make Fabergé.
- Paper hats?
- Yes.
- Mottos and riddles?
- Yes.
- Clean?
- Fairly.
- There's only one snag.
- What's that?
- They don't go bang.
- Well, that doesn't matter.
We'll just have to shout Bang!
when we pull them.
A good idea, yes. Bang.
- Would you like a drop of cowslip?
- Mm.
If you're writing to Father Christmas,
tell him he can park in the pig sty.
No, I'm just totting up
what Christmas has cost us.
- It's got very commercial, hasn't it?
- Terribly.
Let me sit down first. Now, then.
Right. What's the total?
15p.
- What was that for?
- The balloons.
Oh, yes, they are a necessity.
I wonder how much Jerry and Margo's
Christmas cost.
A lot, judging by the size of that van.
Plus the cost of reinforcing their table
to take the weight of all their booze and grub.
And a few new dresses for Margo so she can
say, "Oh, this old thing" when people ask.
- The ISO to accompany the carol singing.
- Tranquillisers for Jerry.
That's his own fault. Either a man
is master in his own house or he's not.
You're not.
I was talking about Jerry.
I should think they'd bring the whole thing in
for under 50,000.
Whereas we can have Christmas
for a bit of effort and 15p.
- I bet it's just as good too.
- Of course it will be.
Except we can't afford a turkey
or Christmas pudding or whisky or brandy,
or afirkin of ale, or chocolates or cigars,
or really nice presents.
Oh, shut up.
I mean, a spare goose.
Margo actually said she had a spare goose.
Do I detect a touch of envy,
green-eyed Tiny Tim?
Not really, no.
They might have a spare goose but they've got
the giant Mrs Dooms-Patterson arriving.
She'll probably swallow it in one go.
Come on. The sooner you get to bed,
the sooner Santa will arrive.
Righto.
Your cotton wool beard and red flannels
are in the bottom drawer.
You mean you know it's me?
Remembering last Christmas Eve, it'd better be.
And seasonal greetings to you, Steven.
May I have a word with Maria?
Oh, thank you.
Yes, I'll hold.
- Morning, darling. Happy Christmas.
- Happy Christmas, Jerry.
How many more people
are you going to telephone?
The extension's been tinkling away
since eight o'clock.
Last one.
Then our social boats are completely burnt.
Sorry, it's a bit early.
You'll have to explain that one.
Just a moment.
Hello, Maria.
Yes. And yuletide felicitations to you.
Listen, Maria, I'll be as brief as possible.
Absolute chaos. Jerry has chickenpox.
Yes, he's covered in them.
I'm telling you what I've told the rest of the gang.
The Leadbetters must be considered
as totally out of circulation this Christmas.
Yes.
Yes. Just a moment.
All right, Jerry, I'm coming.
That was Jerry calling from his sickbed.
Yes, I will.
Yes.
Goodbye.
I gather my chickenpox is political, but why?
I want to be as succinct as possible, Jerry.
- Christmas is cancelled.
- Cancelled? Why?
- Because they won't deliver it.
- Won't deliver it?
I telephoned to check they were redelivering
our order, properly made up,
and I was informed they don't make deliveries
on Christmas Day.
Naturally I asked to speak to
the highest authority in the building.
- Who did you get?
- Fred.
An incompetent loon who styled himself
assistant caretaker. There was no-one else.
Surely when you sent the stuff back
you checked they'd redeliver?
No. I was foolish enough to assume
that the principle of customer satisfaction
had not been swept away in the lava stream
of trades union hysteria.
Oh. I still don't see why I've got chickenpox.
Why aren't we visiting other people any more?
Because if we can't have other people here,
I'm not going to other people
with a begging bowl in my hand.
I'm beginning to like having chickenpox.
- We can have a nice quiet Christmas.
- What with?
- Each other.
- No, I meant with what?
- Each other.
- I meant eating and drinking what?
Oh, yes, I see what you mean.
Having one's entire Christmas in a van
is like putting all one's eggs in one basket.
We haven't even got any decorations.
- That gin's never going to last.
- I feel totally wretched.
I don't feel so hot myself now.
I We two kings of orient are
4 Bearing gifts we travel afar
4 Something, something,
something, something
♪ Fa la la-la la Ia. Oi!
Merry Christmas!
Give us a tenner or we'll give you another one.
Morning, Tom. Morning, Barbara.
Where are the mince pies, then?
- We haven't got any mince pies.
- We'll settle for a turkey each.
- We haven't got a turkey either.
- Why? What's happened?
Christmas has not been delivered to this house.
Oh, Margo.
Don't be affectionate, Barbara. I shall cry.
You know drivers, Margo. They're tradesmen.
They stop off and drink beer. They'll be along.
They won't. They're not working today.
Well, that doesn't matter. Come to us.
We can't. We haven't been invited.
That's no problem.
Margo and Jerry, I hereby invite you.
Come on. We can't cater for the Music Society
or the Pony Club.
That's been taken care of.
I've got political chickenpox.
- Eurgh.
- Well!
That's settled, then.
Come on. What do you say?
I say that's very generous.
Thank you very much.
Eh, Margo? Eh?
- We haven't anything to bring.
- Bring yourselves.
Come along, Margo.
I need some help to peel the potatoes.
- I'm not even dressed.
- Don't bother about that, Margo. Come on.
- Whisky any good?
- Now, look, Jerry, look.
This party is on us. What else have you got?
Ahhh.
May I add something to that?
What?
Arrh.
Says it all, doesn't it?
I must say, your food really does taste like food.
Yes, it does rather.
Did I ever tell you about last Christmas?
Mrs Dooms-Patterson's corsets.
No.
Perhaps I'd better not.
I don't want to think about Mrs Dooms-Patterson
or the rest of them.
- It can't have been a pretty sight.
- It wasn't.
- I can't tell you what a relief all this is.
- It's the spirit of Christmas. Good will to all men.
Especially me.
By the same token,
do you mind if I take my shoes off?
Take your feet off if you want to.
Well, we've done the washing up.
Oh, we were just coming out to help.
Don't feel guilty. You're doing it this evening.
Oh.
You know, Barbara... Shoes, please, Jerry.
...you'd save yourself so much trouble and
dried skin if you bought yourself a dishwasher.
- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Don't worry, Margo. Have a sprawl.
That's the idea. And on with the festivities.
Steven and Maria had a conjuror last year.
Did he taste nice?
- Crackers?
- Crackers. Crackers!
Cr-rackers.
Dun ta-da!
- Good god.
- None of your shop-bought rubbish.
There's a trick with these.
They're perfectly sound,
except they do not go bang.
So... And...
Bang!
- You're crackers.
- That's right.
Come on, Jerry. One, two, three...
Bang!
Come on, Margo. And another one.
One, two, three... Bang.
Come on, Margo. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
One, two, three..
Crack.
Not bang?
I see "crack" as a more pertinent word.
- It is after all the stem of "cracker”, isn't it?
- You can't argue with that.
What have you all got?
I seem to have the inside of
a roll of lavatory paper.
Inside that.
Oh, yes.
Which do you prefer? Wellington or Nelson?
Jerry, all the nice girls love a sailor.
You'd better be Nelson.
Mind you, there's something about a soldier.
Read your motto.
- I thought you said they were clean.
- Really clean.
Come on, Margo, get your hat on.
This is the Daily Mirror.
I am terribly sorry, Margo.
Please, have the Telegraph.
Now, then. My motto.
"The ooh-ah bird is so called
because it lays square eggs."
I don't understand that.
Good.
- What about some games?
- Oh, rather.
We have a four. What about bridge?
- Or a chess tournament.
- Yes.
I'm talking about games, having a laugh.
Rushing about getting hot.
Canasta?
What was that game we used to play?
- I know. Murder.
- Oh, yes. That gets quite scary.
It frightens Tom, anyway.
Blindfold jelly feeding. We haven't got any jelly.
But those are childish games, aren't they?
Yes.
But we're adults.
We should do something adults do.
(Chuckles)
Jerry!
I know. Sardines.
They're a big laugh.
Margo, all that squeezing together in cupboards.
- I don't like squeezing together in cupboards.
- What about Strip Mah Jong?
You're just being silly now.
- True.
- That's the point. We're trying to be silly.
- Why?
- Because it's Christmas.
I don't see that being silly and Christmas
go together at all.
- They do in this house!
- There's no need to snap, Barbara.
- I'm sorry, Margo.
- Come on, Margo.
I want to open another bottle
of peapod burgundy.
I want somebody to stop the blast
with a mattress.
Of course.
Er..
Thank you.
Any bottle, is it, Tom?
Tom'?
Tom'?
Now, listen, you.
We both want you round here for Christmas
and we both want you to have a good time.
We may be silly, we may be infantile,
it may not be what you're used to
but that's the way we do it in this house. Now...
Either you at least try to join in
or you go home straightaway.
I don't want to go home.
Well, then...
It isn't that I don't want to join in, Tom,
it's that I don't know how to.
It's quite simple.
Just pretend you're somebody stupid, like me.
I could try.
- Just try is all I'm asking.
- Yes, I will try, I promise, Tom.
Please, will you let me go now?
Thank you.
Tiddlywinks anybody?
- Come on, Margo.
- Careful!
Keep close to me.
- That's it.
- Careful.
Take it easy, take it easy.
Don't rush it.
I'm not quite sure where it is.
The winners!
Champions!
- I'm sorry, partner.
- It was luck, just luck.
It was not.
- You rotten cheat.
- I demand a play-off.
I vote we go back to the pavilion
for a bit of a breather.
Only a couple of minutes
because I think I'm running into form.
Give them a rest, Margo. We're well ahead.
We won passing the orange under the chin.
We won that. Your orange went down Margo's
dress and was declared out of bounds.
Plus we were good at balancing on the bottle
and spinning the plate.
- Oh, Jerry, we are a stylish team.
- Rather.
Right, we'll see who's best.
I'm taking off my earrings now.
Come on, on your feet.
Balloons between the foreheads.
- And off we go.
- I'm... I'm hungry again.
Let's make some sandwiches first.
Let's stoke up the boiler.
Good idea. Come on, darling. Off you go.
Everyone must remember the score.
What did you do to Margo in the kitchen?
- I threatened to kiss her.
- No wonder she's joining in.
I must say, I can't remember
enjoying a Christmas more.
Oh, Jerry, I am glad.
I can safely say
this is the best Christmas I've ever had.
(Hiccups)
Sure that's not the peapod burgundy talking?
No, I'm serious.
Christmas doesn't come in a van.
You can't have it delivered.
You have to make it yourself.
We have. Another form of self-sufficiency,
I suppose.
No, it's being with friends.
True friends.
Joining in and... and...
- And where are our presents?
- Tom!
That's the only reason we asked them over,
to get a present.
Oh! Look, here are yours, anyway.
- Oh, you shouldn't have bothered.
- With our love.
- You can't afford it.
- I should have a look at them first, mate.
- The loom.
- Yes.
Well... Tom, Barbara.
I can safely say... that on the right occasion...
these will be the perfect things to wear.
What occasion will that be, Jerry?
- I can't think of it at the moment.
- Yes, they're lovely.
We'll get you your present now.
It's in the garage.
I hope they haven't spent too much.
I shall be embarrassed.
- So shall I, but I shall overcome it.
- I thought you might.
I wonder what they've got us.
It'll probably be ever so nice
but utterly useless for us.
Like a briefcase for you
to go to the allotments with.
Or a Georgian silver trowel.
- Aren't we rotten?
- Yeah.Ora...
(Mooing)
- They haven't?
- They have.
Happy Christmas.