Good Neighbors (1975–1978): Season 1, Episode 4 - Pig's Lib - full transcript

Excuse me?

- Have you got Skiing Monthly?
- Bottom left, sir.

Thank you.

- Morning, Mr Wilkes.
- Good morning.

- Did you get that copy of Pig Breeder for me?
- Yes, Mr Good.

There you are.

- Two, wasn't it?
- That's right.

Thank you.

I don't have any eggs on me.
Do you accept cash?

Skiing Monthly - 25p.

Did you get that skiing?



No. No, no.

I was defrosting the fridge
and I slipped on an ice cube.

Sorry, I forgot.
Did you get those potato peelings for me?

Oh, yes.

Here you are.

- Lerm...
- No, no. Have them on me.

- Cheers, then.
- Cheers.

I hope you don't mind my asking,
but is he a bit...?

Mr Good? Far from it.

You name it
and they'll try to swap something for it.

Mr Good and his wife.

(Doorbell)

- Hi.
- Morning, Mrs Good. Windows?

Not any more, thank you. It's only money
for essentials from now on, you see.



Oh, what a shame. Still...

- Unless...
- Unless what?

Well, you could still come every week, but erm...

Maybe I could pay you in some other way.

Pardon?

Well, you know, instead of money, perhaps we
could come to some sort of arrangement.

- I see.
- What do you think?

Erm...

- Mrs Good, can I ask you a question?
- Of course.

Do you like me?

- You're very nice.
- Thank you.

And I want you to know that I like you, too.

Thank you.

And I respect you, so there would be respect
in this arrangement both ways.

Mutually.

You're making it sound like
the Treaty of Versailles.

It's just I've never been approached
like this before, you see.

It's the oldest form of business in the world.
Now, then...

What have I got that's worth all these windows?

Inside and out?

Right. How about erm... a bottle of homemade
wine, half a dozen lettuce and spring onions?

Pardon?

For the barter, for the exchange.

What.. for the windows?

Yes.

Oh. Oh, dear, Mrs Good,
I really cannot apologise enough.

- I 'am... l am most terribly sorry.
- What for?

Mrs Good,
please allow me to do your windows free.

Gratuitously.

- I couldn't do that.
- I must, and I'm sorry.

I really am.

I really am sorry.

Deeply.

Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!

Tom, I do...

What is that?

Two dustbins on a trolley.

I know it's two dustbins on a trolley, Tom.

And when I asked you the question
it was a rhetorical one,

which does not need a direct answer
as you knew very well in the first place.

You make me hold my breath
when you do those long sentences.

What is it?

It's two rhetorical dustbins on a rhetorical trolley.

Then would you please remove them from
my crazy paving before someone sees us?

They'd have less chance of seeing us
if we hide behind the dustbins.

Tom, I am not in the mood for your smutty,
schoolboy humour.

Particularly as I have a splitting headache.

I'm sorry about that. What brought that on?

Your chickens clucking all through the night.

That's because they're hungry - poor little devils.

They depend on old Tom - Daddy, as they call
me - to bring home a few kitchen scraps.

Have you got any?
Everyone else has chipped in.

Do you mean to say you have been wheeling
that filthy apparatus up and down The Avenue

begging for kitchen scraps?

Certainly. And it's not begging, it's recycling.

Tom, when will you realise you are living
in Surbiton and not Zaire?

As soon as that gorilla comes down off the roof.

I am sorry,
I refuse to conduct a conversation at this level.

Give us some scraps and I'll push off.

I do not have any scraps.

- You do.
- I do not.

- You must have.
- I do not! I have a waste disposal unit.

So have I - my animals.

You might as well give me your potato peelings
than throw them away.

I do not throw them away.
I told you, I have a waste disposal unit.

All right, if you ever come round
with your arm torn off I'll know what's happened.

Thank you very much for wishing
bodily mutilation on me, Tom.

But I have better things to do with my rubbish
than throw it away.

Oh, blow you, then.

In any case, you've got a mountain of the stuff
in your back garden already.

I know what you'll do. You'll build it up and up
until it becomes a mini-Matterhorn

staring over the fence at me.

Wrong. Because I'm increasing my livestock.
They'll get rid of it.

Oh, for heaven's sake, not more chickens.

No, no. Pigs.

Pigs?

Oink, oink.

Oh. Well, how's the cheese?

Hanging about. Good old Geraldine.

Ah, yes, the goat with the golden boobs.

Geraldine - is that what you call her?

- Yes.
- I wish you wouldn't anthropomorphise.

- Eh?
- Look, animals are animals,

not little people dressed up in skins.

That's good coming from someone
who calls a cockerel Lenin.

All right, clever, you asked for this.

- Hmnph!
- Aarrgh!

Making a lot, aren't you?
Goat's milk cheese doesn't keep very long.

Swapsies.

Great.
You did a deal with the window cleaner.

- No, he did them for nothing.
- Oh, yeah? Why?

He thought I was offering him something
and then he found out that I wasn't

so he did them for nothing.

- Am I supposed to understand that?
- No.

Oh.

Did you know that the major endoparasite
of the pig is the liver fluke?

Obvious. Everybody knows that.

- Can ll comein?
- Jerry.

Did you know that the major endoparasite
of the pig is the liver fluke?

- No, of course not.
- See.

Look, I've been having... a chat with Margo.

How is Margo? How's her waste disposal unit?

Oh..it's fine.

Look, erm... do you have to keep pigs?

Jerry, you've been sent over from enemy lines
with a message.

Well, I'm afraid she's serious.

- I've never known her anything else.
- She really means business this time.

If she has to live next door to pigs
she'll take steps.

- Moving?
- No, she's going to bring in Mr Carter.

- (Gasps) No! Not Mr Carter!
- Anything but that.

- Who is Mr Carter?
- New chairman of the Residents' Association.

Then you leave me no alternative.
I'll bring in a hired gun from Esher.

- This is range war.
- Seriously, he's a real goer this bloke.

You know local mums have wanted a zebra
crossing on Downs Road for the last two years?

He's been chairman for the last month and -
zap, pow! - there's a zebra crossing there now.

- All right, so he gets things done.
- He's going to do you too.

- Over her dead body.
- Right.

Look, I never wanted it to come to this.

I reckon your daft way of life will grind to a halt
without any help from the neighbours. Sorry.

- Its all right, Jerry, it's not you.
- Indeed, it is not.

Go in peace, good Gerald,
but tell thy sovereign lady this.

If she doth bite her thumbs at us,
we do it back unto her other thumbs.

Don't call us, we'll call you.

Ah, well, Jerry, never mind, you said Margo's
piece - at least you'll get your dinner now.

- Yes, that's true.
- What are you having?

Pork.

Aww.

Fancy calling little things like you swine.

You're not, are you?
You're my little Pinky and Perky.

Barbara.

Well, Barbara and Perky.

That's walking bacon and don't you forget it.

Misery. Come on, let's finish the little house.

Sty.

House!

All right, you lot, come on.

And you, out. Come on.

That's right.

This beats sitting under the hairdryer
and talking about the pill, I can tell you.

Our trowels touched then.

I know.

So you've got them?

Oh, yes, we've both got them.
That's what makes it such fun.

Well, I gave you fair warning.

I'm sorry. You leave me no alternative.

I am going to telephone Mr Carter.

Margo?

Yes?

Oink, oink!

(Blows)

- Moment of truth.
- I should think so.

Well...

good luck, old man.

Thank you, old man.

- Another few bob saved.
- Cobblers to cobblers.

- (Doorbell)
- Three guesses.

Mr Carter, and I'm ready for him.

- Good evening, Tom.
- Good evening, Margo.

- This is Mr Carter.
- Evening, Mr Good.

Good evening, Mr Carter.
That's got the formalities over.

I'm busy, so If you just make your threats,
I'll ignore them and you can clear off.

- No threats. I just want to have a chat.
- That's what Hitler said at Munich.

Come on.

May I come in as well?

Unless you want to listen through the keyhole.

Mr Carter - Barbara, my wife.

- How do you do?
- Hello, won't you sit down?

Right, now.

(Coughs)

Oh.

Excuse me.

- Right, now.
- Am I to be offered a seat in this house?

No.

- Then I shall stand.
- Oh, sit down, Margo.

- No Jerry?
- He has another engagement.

He's too embarrassed to come. He has the
decency not to get mixed up in this interference.

- Mr Carter.
- Well...

Ah-ah-ah! I'm having my fourpenny worth first.

Now, you may be chairman of the Residents'
Association but we are not normal residents.

- Quite.
- We're trying a new way of life.

And working very hard at it.

We worked out what we put into it
and what we get out of it, hopefully.

We don't belong to anybody
or want any interference.

- Mr Carter.
- Oh, be quiet. Go on, Tom.

I don't expect you to understand.
Nine-till-fiver, company car.

All nice and cosy inside the system.

What could you possibly know about
trying to make it on your own, eh?

- Quite a lot. I did.
- Exactly.

What?

I did.

I left the system as well. Eight years ago.

I hardly sold a thing for six years,
but now I make a living at it.

- At what?
- Writing, freelance.

Calling me Hitler, by all means, but don't tell me
I know nothing about chancing my arm.

Oh.

Bravo, Mr Carter.

Nonsense. That makes it worse.
If you know about going it alone,

then you shouldn't be here
interfering with our personal liberty.

- Quite right.
- lam not!

What are you doing?

Mr Carter is here in his official capacity
as chairman of the Residents' Association

to tell you on my behalf
that you may not keep pigs.

I'm not.

I am just here as an unbiased referee to help
sort out a little problem between neighbours.

- A little problem?
- Look, Mrs Leadbetter.

Let's get down to cases. Why precisely
do you object to the Goods keeping pigs?

Because... they are pigs.

Yes.

Well, that's it. Isn't it enough?

No.

Well, that wraps that up.
Anybody fancy a game of crib?

I'm afraid that doesn't quite wrap it up, Mr Good.

We should establish whether Mrs Leadbetter
has grounds for complaint.

At last, Mr Carter. Tell him what they are.

- Well, don't you know?
- Oh, all right. Look, Mr Good.

Do they constitute any kind of health hazard?

- Exactly.
- No.

I've had my land checked for parasites
and my animals vetted by a vet.

They're healthier than I am.

Fair enough. Mind you,
pigs do have a habit of creating piles of...

Exactly.

Piles of what?

Piles of...

Piles of what, Margo?

Piles of...

I know you're trying to make me say the word.

All right, then. I'll say it. Piles of dirties.

Anyway, that's no problem.
It's all going to go down to the cellar.

Oh, my God.

In containers, Margo.
We intend to convert it into fuel.

- Oh. Methane?
- Yes.

- What a good idea.
- Mr Carter...

- Well, I can't think of anything else.
- Well I can.

- What?
- It will ruin my garden.

- We're not keeping them in your garden.
- Say they jumped over the fence.

Come on, I can't see piglets doing the Fosbury
Flop over a great high fence like that.

- They'll find a way.
- They won't.

- They will.
- They won't.

- They will.
- Won't. They're penned in.

- They will.
- (Mouths) They won't.

If it comes to destruction of property,
I have a right to take legal action.

All right. If they build a ladder and set a trotter in
your garden, I'll get rid of them. How's that?

Seems very fair to me.

It does not alter the fact
that I can still see pigs from my patio.

However, we will leave it at that.

Barbara, Tom.

- Margo, Margo.
- Margo, Margo.

Good night, Mr Carter.

And I'm sorry to say this, but you are not
the Mr Carter I imagined you to be.

- Well, I'm sorry to hear that.
(Door closes)

Because she's exactly the Mrs Leadbetter
I imagined her to be.

- Have you got warm hands?
- Yes.

Right. You milk the goat, I'll collect the eggs.

I want to see whether
Pinky and Perky are all right.

Right.

See?

They didn't make a ladder.

- Oh, no!
- What?

They didn't need to. Look!

(Whispers) Pinky! Perky! Come here!

Heel!

Heel! Sit!

Just a minute.

It's no good. They're not looking.

There's nothing else for it.

- What?
- I have to get over the top. Give me a hand.

Get on my hands.

Just a minute.

Careful.

(Groans)

(Grunting)

Morning, Tom.

Bye, Pinky. Bye, Perky.

All right, Jack. Away you go.

Oh, Tom!

Never mind, love.

Just off, darling?

I usually am when I'm putting my overcoat on.

- No need to telephone if you're going to be late.
- I shan't.

- Anything special you'd like for dinner?
- Anything except pork.

I must say, Jerry, I never realised before
that you were so fond of pigs.

I'm not. They're nasty, smelly creatures.

But I'd rather have Tom and Barbara as friends
with pigs than not friends without them.

I don't see why you should make me out
the villain of the piece.

Nothing wrong in asking someone
to honour an agreement.

That's what they said about Shylock.

- Are we downhearted?
- Yes.

- Are we gonna let this get the better of us?
- Yes.

Come on, cheer up. Tell you what,
let's see how our wine's come on.

Ah.

Yes, an unpretentious little peapod Burgundy,
but I think you'll like its impudent charm.

- Does it travel?
- Travel? All of ten feet.

There we are, Chateau Good '75.

Ah!

Now, look, love. We've got to expect setbacks.

We've just had one.
Let's put it behind us and battle on.

- To the future.
- To the future.

(Both gasp)

If that's the future, I'm going to kill myself.

It's hurting the back of my eyes.

Strewth!

How many bottles did we make of that?

Only two dozen.

- Blast.
- (Knock at door)

May I come in?

Yes, it's all right, Margo. There's no pigs about.

I... I just want to know if it's going to be possible
for us to continue our relationship.

Well, you're not exactly flavour of the month,
Margo, but I suppose it'll wear off.

At least when you're in opposition
you're open about it.

Thank you.

Come on, then. Have a drink.

Thank you very much.

Here's to a clean slate.

Oh!

Oh, my word.

That's good.

Excellent.

Have some more.

Thank you very much.

Well, I mean, it was an agreement, wasn't it?

Yes.

And both parties did agree, didn't they?

Yes.

I wasn't being unfair in asking you to honour
your side of the agreement, was 17

- Oh, Margo, do stop going on and on about it.
- Sorry.

After all, they were only pigs.

You could get some nice doves instead.

"Nice doves instead." You haven't the faintest
idea what we're trying to do here.

We didn't get pigs
to make the garden look pretty.

We keep pigs for sound economic reasons.

We.. kept pigs.

Well, if this business has left you out of pocket...

No. Dead weight -
I just about recouped my outlay.

Dead weight? What's dead weight?

Like, if I poleaxed you now,
it's the price I'd get for your carcass.

That was a slaughterhouse truck.

Well, don't look so shocked.

If I try to sell them back to the breeder
I get less than I paid for them.

They depreciate,
and we've got books to balance.

I didn't ask you to kill them.

I thought you would just send them away
somewhere.

Where to? Boarding school?

Well, they have places where they retire horses.

They were too young to retire, Margo.

They were only ten weeks old.

Only ten weeks?

Just weaned.

Not much of a life, was it?

Just babies, really.

Never even felt the sun on their backs.

Tom, you don't suppose they sensed
where they were going, do you?

No, they say animals know
when they're going to die, but...

Mind you, that little cry they made when
we closed the tailgate was almost human.

They don't feel anything, do they, when...

When they're garrotted? No.

I don't think so. Well, not much, anyway.

Stop it! For goodness' sake, stop it!

Look, here are the keys to my car.
Go and save your wretched pigs.

- Just hope I'm in time.
- Oh, cheers to that.

20.

Pay 21s, Pontoons and five-card tricks only.

He just said he was going to get rid of them.

He didn't say they were going to be slaughtered.

Come on, play. Pay 21s.

- 16.
- Well done.

If I have nightmares it will be Tom's fault.

He should have told me.

Look, it's no good getting your knickers
in a twist.

Twist.

There's nothing we can do about it now
either way.

Twist.

Either Tom was in time or he wasn't.

Twist.

And if he wasn't... Twist.

Well, that's that, then, isn't it?

Twist.

I know we had a bit of a difference
over this thing...

Twist.

But you acted very decently in the end.

Twist.

(Tearfully) I just... hope it isn't the end
for little Pinky and Perky.

Stick.

Jerry called me Shylock.

Pay 19s, 20s, 21s and 22s.

75.

Bust.

Barbara!

It's Tom!

Barbara.

- Thank heavens!
- Oh, Pinky and Perky!

Talk about cheating Mademoiselle Guillotine,
the Scarlet Pimpernel wasn't in it.

I can't tell you how relieved I am.

And [I'll say this...

I know. Pigs aren't really so bad, are they?

Oh, yes, they are. They're horrid.

And if they ever set foot in my garden again
there will be no reprieve.

I'll make their pen like Wormwood Scrubs.

- Very well, then.
- Margo?

Yes?

Thanks, sexy.

Don't be silly.

Well driven, my hero.

I say, it wore on you, did it?

Are we the happiest Tom and Barbara
in the world?

Easily.

Right. Sober up, get your working clothes on,
we've got a prison camp to build.

- Oh, welcome home Pinky and Perky.
- (Chuckles)

Tom, thank God you made it.

Now, listen.

If you ever let on I didn't make it and you're not
Pinky and Perky, it's sausage-time.