Good Neighbors (1975–1978): Season 3, Episode 2 - The Happy Event - full transcript
Barbara manages to get her hands on a horse, Tom is opposed to the idea because he thinks the animal will consume more resources than it supplies. Margo hears of the conflict and turns the whole subject in a feminist cause.
(Knock at the door)
Come.
Tom, what book did you want me to get you?
Just a tick, Jerry. I'm doing my income tax
return.
- You haven't got any income.
- Exactly.
No. No.
No. No. Mind your own business.
No. No. Not applicable.
Nil.
Signed, Tom Good.
- Right.
- It takes me a whole week to do mine.
That's because you're illiterate.
- Right, now, what can I do for you?
- I'm doing something for you.
What library book did you want me to pick up?
Ah, yes, The Morphology, Pathology
And Gynaecology Of The Domesticated Pig.
Sounds like a good read.
I've got a very pregnant pig in that garden,
and when she starts popping,
I want to know what to do.
- I thought there were people called vets.
- There are, but they present bills.
- Hello, Jerry.
- Morning, Barbara.
We were just discussing the mother to be.
I suppose you'll be knitting bootees
for the piglets.
How did you know pigs had to have their feet
kept warm in the first few days?
What?
Yes. Many a true word spoken in jest.
It is a fact, actually.
- You're kidding.
- No, no.
Of course, it doesn't always have to be wool.
In the olden days,
they wrapped their trotters in rabbit skins.
Did they? Really? I'm astonished.
You're gullible as well.
(Both laugh)
That's a cheap victory.
Anything's a cheap victory
before nine in my book.
- You'll still get the book, won't you?
- I might.
Now, push off.
We've got seeds to get in.
- Radishes, please.
- Radishes.
And wallpaper paste.
- What on earth are you doing?
- Mixing germinated seeds with wallpaper paste.
(Sniggers)
Oh, no, no. They separate out quite naturally.
You squeeze the mixture into the drills.
- With this.
- Yeah.
You miss out a process
because no thinning out is needed.
- Efficiency is the name of the game.
- Watch us plant them if you like.
London Bridge in the morning rush hour
suddenly seems terribly attractive.
- Happy carbon monoxide poisoning.
- Thanks. Happy swine fever.
Yeuch!
- Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!
- What?
- Which way is Mecca, then?
- Easterly, I suppose. Why?
Well, you and your prayer mat, you know...
(Tom chuckles)
Oh, I see. One of your jokes.
Very good. Ha ha ha.
- Come along, Tom. Stop annoying Margo.
- Thank you, Barbara.
- Right, two rows of radishes.
- Yes, two rows of radishes.
- Can I have first squirt?
- No.
- Why not?
- Because you are useless at it.
I remember when you iced my birthday cake,
"Happy birthday".
It came out as "Hoppy bithdog".
- It was good cake, though.
- Yes, I know it was. I made it.
Come along, now.
Yeah, well, I suppose that's reasonably straight.
Jealous.
(Coughs)
- Did you cough, Margo?
- Yes.
I know I'm going to regret asking this,
but what are you doing?
Icing the garden.
I'll ask Barbara.
What are you doing, Barbara?
Planting radishes.
Thank you very much.
- I'll go back to my marigolds.
- No, no, Margo!
Seriously, Margo, we've worked out this
wonderfully efficient way of planting seeds.
Are you sure you've got the right word?
Look, Margo, you may not have noticed it,
but our whole lifestyle is geared to efficiency.
Nonsense! You don't even have a television set.
What's that got to do with efficiency?
Very well, transport.
You haven't got any transport.
Don't have any... What do you call that?
- Junk.
- Junk?
Let me tell you, Margo, that trolley
will still be going when your car is up for scrap.
Yes. Right, look at this. Look at this.
Wonderful. Built to last, that is.
Oh.
Oh.
I won't crow, because it's not in my nature.
Uh-huh... Not long now.
- What?
- Pinky. I think she'll go into labour soon.
- Really? Are you sure?
- All the signs are right according to this.
She keeps rolling her eyes and going, "Blimey!"
I'd roll my eyes and go, "Blimey!"
if I was going to have seven or eight kids.
- Hope there aren't any complications.
- So do I.
I've never been a midwife before.
Where have you been?
Oh, nowhere in particular.
I've just solved our transport problem.
Oh, have you?
How?
Come and see.
Tan-ta-da!
Oh, my God!
What do you think, Tom? Eh, Tom?
Eh, Tom? What do you think?
It's a horse.
It's like quicksilver, your mind.
Yes, of course. It's a horse.
- We can't afford a horse.
- It's a gift.
It's the gift horse
that you don't look in the mouth.
- People do not go around giving away horses.
- Oh, they do, they do!
Mr Betts the coalman offered him to me free.
- Why?
- Why?
Why?
Why? Well, because we just got talking.
You know, the way you do,
and Mr Betts has always been interested
in what we're trying to do
and Mr Betts has always been rather interested
in my hips
sol did a bit of um... leaning and things,
and er... he said I could have the horse.
And when do you spend the weekend with him
at his chateau in Littlehampton?
It's a bungalow, and we haven't fixed a date yet.
The thing is, Tom, you see, the horse
is getting a bit long in the tooth anyway,
and Mr Betts is going to get a lorry
for his coal run.
Now, until I came along, with my hips, of course,
he was going to retire the horse,
but the thing is he says it would be ideal for us.
It would be light work and he knows
we'd look after him properly, so there you are.
Transport problem solved.
- What about fuel?
- Horses don't drink petrol.
I know that, but they eat hay, lots of it.
Well, that's easy. Hay's common.
I mean, it isn't as if you have to import
bamboo shoots to keep a panda going.
- I've seen hay in pet shops.
- So have I, at 30p a handful.
We're talking about half a tonne of horse.
And what about stabling?
That's no problem.
He can have his own room in the garage.
- Yeah, with his own bed and dressing table.
- Now, there's no need to be silly.
I'm sorry, love, you're the one that's being silly.
It's just not practical, is it?
Mr Betts says Brian's got a lovely nature.
Oh, God, Brian! The horse's name is Brian.
Yes. Oh, come
and have another look at him, Tom. He's lovely.
He might be able to knit and do conjuring tricks,
but he's not a practical proposition.
I don't want him as a pet. I'm not an idiot!
He'dbe a... He'd be a working horse!
That is the point. There's not enough work
for him to do to warrant his keep.
It's a nice idea, but it's just not efficient, is it?
Is it?
Don't know.
Is it?
- Sit?
- No!
- Now, you know I'm right, don't you, love?
- Yes, I do, so shut up.
(Doorbell rings)
- Doorbell.
- It must be if you say it is.
You're the one that's always right.
- Hello, Tom. Is Barbara in here?
- Hello, Margo.
I see you brought the horse home, Barbara.
- Yes.
- In that case, surprise!
Oh. It's too large.
Never mind. We can always pad the rim
with the Telegraph colour supplement.
- What is it, a miner's helmet?
- You know perfectly well what it is, Tom.
It is my second-best riding hat.
Now, Barbara, I shall be proposing you
and Mrs Dooms-Paterson will be seconding you.
- What for?
- The pony club.
Margo, I've already told you, it's a working
horse!
I know, but after it's done all the silly things
you want it for during the day,
what could be nicer than an evening hack along
the banks of the Thames with the pony club?
- Almost anything, I should think.
- Implying what, Tom?
Well, what a mob! (Laughs)
They look like the French heavy cavalry
at Agincourt. (Laughs)
- Thank you very much.
- You'd never stop that lot with bows and arrows.
- Now, look, Tom...
- There's no point in going on.
We aren't keeping the horse anyway.
- Why ever not?
- Because as Tom pointed out...
Stop there, Barbara. I see the whole picture.
You wanted the horse, but the man said no,
and that's that.
The head of the house forbade you,
and that's that.
The Victorian patriarch disapproved,
and that's that.
It's all too familiar.
- Who are all these blokes?
- You are.
Margo, we've been friends for years,
and sometimes I don't think you know us at all.
Or perhaps I know you too well.
Rubbish.
We all know that Tom's stupid,
but he's not a tyrant.
Right.
Then why is his word always law?
It isn't. It's just that he's right
about this horse.
Very well, dear.
If that's the illusion you choose to cling on to,
I'll just take my hat and not say another word.
I will say this, Tom.
The day of the woman is coming.
With the pony club cavalry on their side,
they can't lose.
You... You bully!
Charge!
Good old Margo.
She just doesn't understand, does she?
She can't see
that you are capable of being totally unfeminine.
Thanks.
Ah... No, no. I didn't mean unfeminine.
I mean you're very feminine, Barbara.
You're ever so sexy.
There you are. You see, you can do it! Phvvor!
(Doorbell rings constantly)
MARGO: Who is it, Jerry? Who is it?
How the hell should I know?
Put the chain on before you open the door.
Shut up.
Sorry, Jerry, but the pig's in labour.
Well, what do you want me to do about it?
Hand out cigars?
We can't get a light up to the sty
and we wondered if we could borrow your light,
the one with the long lead.
Yeah, all right. Go on.
Ever thought of moving?
New Zealand's a nice long way away.
(Pinky grunts and squeals)
TOM: Go on, girl. Go on. Good girl.
Go on. Go on. Go on. Good girl.
Good girl!
- Five.
- Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it marvellous, Jerry?
I've always wanted to stand in a pigsty
in the middle of the night.
Will you hold that light steady?
I'm just trying to see what I'm standing in.
How can that matter at a time like this?
Oh, no. They're just an old pair of
very expensive slippers. That's all.
- Let me see, Tom. Is she all right?
- Yeah, fine. No problem.
Go on, girl. Go on. Good girl.
There's a good girl!
- Six.
- Six!
- Six so far, Margo!
- Congratulations.
Don't you ever tell me to shut up again, Jerry.
Well, I haven't got X-ray eyes, have 1?
I can't see through a door.
Hold the light still.
Don't go out in the night and leave the door
open. Anything could have happened.
- Yes, you could have got up and shut it.
- Oh, yes!
And found myself struggling with some
lecherous minicab driver?
Look, you'll be struggling with me
if you don't shut up.
- The main event is going on here.
- There's another one on the way.
- Come and look, Margo. It's beautiful.
- Certainly not. That sort of thing makes me faint.
Well, don't faint in here for God's sake.
- Good girl! Yes, go on. Go on. Seven.
- Seven!
Look, surely seven is enough.
Yes, you're quite right, Margo.
Pinky, Margo says seven's enough.
Let me see, Tom. Let me see.
- Oh, look. They're feeding.
- Yeah. Yeah.
Hold on. One's come unplugged.
(Piglet squeals)
It's marvellous, isn't it?
I read 250 pages on piggery midwifery.
Old Pinky can't read a word.
She just gets on with it.
I could never have imagined this a year ago.
No. Last year,
all we were breeding was discontent.
If you've stopped eulogising,
I'd like to go to bed.
Oh, yeah. Right, Jerry. Thanks a lot.
Hold on! Hold on!
Sorry, Margo, Pinky's disobeying you.
She's having another one.
This is rapidly becoming disgusting.
Goon! Goon! That's it.
Yes, goon. That's it. That's right. Good...
Oh, dear.
What? What? Let me see? What?
- Oh, no... Oh, that's not right.
- What isn't?
That little one, that last one. It's hardly moving.
- It's just lying there.
- I'm afraid it's a runt.
How very Anglo-Saxon.
Quiet, Jerry. Well, do something.
- Tom...
- Well, what do you want me to do?
Inflate it with a bicycle pump?
I know it's rotten, but this sort of thing happens.
It says so in the book.
You sometimes get a runt in the litter.
It's weak and excess, I'm afraid.
- What are you going to do about it?
- Nothing. You just let them die.
- You just let them die?!
- You can't do that!
- That's a bit clinical, isn't it?
- It's common sense.
- Tom!
- Now, Barbara, listen...
Barbara, it is common sense.
This is our livelihood.
It may not be a palatable fact,
but it's not worth fighting to keep it alive.
- It's not efficient.
- Damn your efficiency!
- It's not my efficiency.
- Yes, it is!
If you're turning into the kind of person
who'll let a little creature like that die just
because it's efficient, then you can stuff it!
- At last. The worm turns.
- Be quiet, Margo!
Yes.
- Can I use your phone?
- Certainly, Barbara. Yes.
Well, I... You can see I'm right, surely?
I am right!
(Pinky squeals)
- Who were you phoning?
- The vet.
He's on a call. Won't get here for two hours.
That's going to be too late, isn't it?
- What about the RSPCA or the Blue Cross?
- Same problem.
Right, we're going to need milk, brandy,
something warm to wrap him in.
- Oh, Tom!
- And something to help its breathing.
Oxygen. Where do you get oxygen?
The hospital. It's worth a go. Try the hospital.
Right. Right. Jerry, come along.
- Why me?
- You've got the car.
- So I have.
Margo, don't just stand there!
- Something warm, milk and brandy!
- Yes.
Oil
- Tom...
- What?
Remy Martin or Hine VSOP?
Sorry!
- Do you know what speed you were doing, sir?
- Yes, 60mph.
- And what is the speed limit in this area, sir?
- 30.
- So, you admit you were speeding?
- What a brilliant deduction.
- Can I see your driving licence please, sir?
- Look, please...
- Just one moment, miss.
- Mrs, actually.
- Your wife, sir?
- No, somebody else's.
Oh.
60mph with somebody else's wife at 3am
and in your pyjamas.
Doesn't look too rosy, does it, sir?
- Oh, please, we're in ever such a hurry.
- I dare say you are, miss.
Get on with it, will you?
If you're going to book me, book me.
- If not, get out of my way.
- Right.
This goes down in the big book, this does.
Oh, look, Constable, we're in ever such a hurry.
We've got to get to the hospital.
- Hospital?
- Yes.
I know it sounds unlikely,
but our pig's just had a litter
and there's this tiny runt, and if we don't get
any oxygen for him, he's going to die.
Little piglet, is it?
Why didn't you tell me this before?
Well, if I'd started bandying words like pig about
in front of a constable...
I see what you mean. Right, come with me.
- Where to?
- The hospital, of course.
I'll go ahead, clear the way.
You put your foot down.
Always wanted to do a mercy dash.
Never done one before.
- Here we are, Tom.
- You've been long enough.
- Well, I had to change.
- This is an emergency, not a social function.
It is also The Avenue, Tom,
and curtains have begun to twitch.
Here you are alone in the house.
If I'd been seen coming in your back door
in my night things...
Oh, yes, and Jerry driving off with Barbara
in his pyjamas is wife swapping, isn't it?
Exactly. It hasn't reached Surbiton yet,
but it's already got as far as Epsom.
- You make it sound like the Black Death.
- You don't condone it, surely?
- Oh, don't be daft! Now, watch the milk.
- Yes.
- Oh, you wanted something warm for the pig.
- Oh, ta.
- Margo, this is cashmere. It's nearly new.
- It's all right. It's Jerry's.
Yeah, I suppose that would make it all right.
- How is it?
- Well, it's still breathing, just about.
I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.
Still, press on. Ah, lovely.
That's fine. Now, put some brandy in it.
What proportions?
It's not a cocktail party.
Use your common sense.
Here, here, here.
When you mix it up, get it down that pig.
- Me?!
- Yes, you.
- Can't you do it?
- No, I can't. I'm making an oxygen tent.
No, I'm sorry, Tom. Sickness makes me feel ill.
Now, look, it's not what you feel.
It's what he feels, so get on with it.
- But...
- Do it!
Yes, Tom.
- Ah...
- Got it!
Got it? Good girl!
Oh, Margo...
A tip for the future, Barbara, always feed a piglet
from the corner of his mouth.
Thank you, Margo.
- How is the little mite?
- Fighting, fighting.
- Can I er...
- Yes, of course.
Poor little mite...
(Mouths)
Oh! This is Police Constable Hillman.
He's been marvellous.
- We'd never have got the oxygen without him.
- Tick. VG.
- What?
- Thanks.
A pleasure to help.
It's refreshing to see you do not devote
all your energies to moving people on
when they park outside the public library
for a couple of minutes.
You would be this gentleman's wife, would you?
- Yes. How did you know?
- It just fits, that's all.
- Look here, Kojak...
- Belt up! Let's get on with it.
- Oxygen tent?
- Yeah. I'll show you. Look.
Now, hold that.
Right, pig goes in here. You feed the oxygen
in through the draining holes.
On with the lid, and then you regulate
the atmosphere like you do with plants.
How do you feed the oxygen
into the draining holes?
With a bit of tubing, you see?
Which we haven't got!
Come on, think of something!
- Garden hose?
- Too thick. Margo?
- Think of something, Jerry.
- Sleep?
Got it How about an overflow pipe
from a car radiator?
- Perfect!
- Come on, then, sir. Let's get your bonnet up.
Why my car?
Why not yours?
It was 60mph, wasn't it, sir?
Yes. Yes.
I was going to put strychnine in your tea,
but I won't now.
Where did you learn to make an oxygen tent?
Oxygen tent classes.
It's all guesswork. I just hope I'm guessing right.
Oh, dear. It's hardly breathing at all.
Give it some more brandy.
Will it live, Tom?
Well, if it does,
it's going to be a chronic alcoholic.
Hurry up with that tube!
Barbara, why are you dusting?
Because I don't smoke.
You did say I could call back. Any news?
The vet's here. He's with him now.
Hello, sarge?
The vet's here. He's with him now. Over.
Yes, I will. Over and out.
My sarge says, "All the best."
- Oh, that's nice.
- Thank you.
Jerry...
Well?
We won.
- Oh, I'm so glad.
- So am I. Can we go back to bed now'?
Heartless!
Hello, sarge?
Teas all round in the canteen. Over.
Yes, I will. Over and out.
- My sarge says, "All the best."
- Again?
For your information, Madam,
my sarge has two spaniels and a hamster.
- Well, I'll be on my way.
- Before you go, thanks very much.
The vet said if you hadn't got that oxygen,
he wouldn't have made it.
Thanks, Mr Plod.
Corl I've never been kissed by the public before.
Good night, Constable.
- What's that supposed to mean, sir?
- Nothing. I was just being civil.
Yes, well, just you watch your step in future.
That's all.
And you.
Well, really!
What a night.
Nothing like animal husbandry
to while away the small hours.
- Can the piggy go back to its mum now, Tom?
- No, not yet.
The vet says we've got to hand-rear it
till it fills out, goes into long trousers.
- It's going to take a bit of our time, isn't it?
- Quite a bit.
- We haven't done the practical thing, have we?
- No.
Which is what you said when it was born.
- Yes.
- Sorry.
I'm not.
That's enough. That does it.
I've tolerated being woken up
in the middle of the night,
I've tolerated a running battle
with an idiot policeman.
I've even tolerated my car being wrecked
and my best jersey being used as a pig blanket,
but when I'm asked to witness you two
wallowing in your own treacle,
I draw the line.
I'm going to bed.
- Thanks, Jerry.
- Jerry, thanks.
Yes, well, I must be getting along too.
I'm so glad the pig's all right.
- Thanks to your help.
- Not at all.
Oh, I'll pop round
with the riding hat later, Barbara.
Why? I shan't be riding the piglet.
No, but you can get the horse now.
You won over the pig,
So now you can make Tom get you the horse.
I shall do no such thing!
Very well, Barbara. I suppose I must simply
accept that you are that kind of woman.
What kind of woman?
A woman who wants to be dominated, who
actually enjoys being ordered about by men.
Very well. I accept it.
Margo, I wouldn't say that you were averse
to a bit of male domination.
- I beg your pardon?
- I ordered you about in the kitchen.
- I didn't hear any complaints.
- Don't be absurd.
- In fact, your cheeks flushed quite responsively.
- They did not.
- You're doing it now.
- No, I'm not.
- You are.
- No, I'm not. It's the light.
Don't be silly. I'm going to bed.
(Chuckles)
Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.
Women, eh?
(Laughs)
(Chuckles)
Just get out into the kitchen and feed that pig.
- Now!
- Oh, yes, dear!
Of course, dear. I'll do it right away!
Come.
Tom, what book did you want me to get you?
Just a tick, Jerry. I'm doing my income tax
return.
- You haven't got any income.
- Exactly.
No. No.
No. No. Mind your own business.
No. No. Not applicable.
Nil.
Signed, Tom Good.
- Right.
- It takes me a whole week to do mine.
That's because you're illiterate.
- Right, now, what can I do for you?
- I'm doing something for you.
What library book did you want me to pick up?
Ah, yes, The Morphology, Pathology
And Gynaecology Of The Domesticated Pig.
Sounds like a good read.
I've got a very pregnant pig in that garden,
and when she starts popping,
I want to know what to do.
- I thought there were people called vets.
- There are, but they present bills.
- Hello, Jerry.
- Morning, Barbara.
We were just discussing the mother to be.
I suppose you'll be knitting bootees
for the piglets.
How did you know pigs had to have their feet
kept warm in the first few days?
What?
Yes. Many a true word spoken in jest.
It is a fact, actually.
- You're kidding.
- No, no.
Of course, it doesn't always have to be wool.
In the olden days,
they wrapped their trotters in rabbit skins.
Did they? Really? I'm astonished.
You're gullible as well.
(Both laugh)
That's a cheap victory.
Anything's a cheap victory
before nine in my book.
- You'll still get the book, won't you?
- I might.
Now, push off.
We've got seeds to get in.
- Radishes, please.
- Radishes.
And wallpaper paste.
- What on earth are you doing?
- Mixing germinated seeds with wallpaper paste.
(Sniggers)
Oh, no, no. They separate out quite naturally.
You squeeze the mixture into the drills.
- With this.
- Yeah.
You miss out a process
because no thinning out is needed.
- Efficiency is the name of the game.
- Watch us plant them if you like.
London Bridge in the morning rush hour
suddenly seems terribly attractive.
- Happy carbon monoxide poisoning.
- Thanks. Happy swine fever.
Yeuch!
- Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!
- What?
- Which way is Mecca, then?
- Easterly, I suppose. Why?
Well, you and your prayer mat, you know...
(Tom chuckles)
Oh, I see. One of your jokes.
Very good. Ha ha ha.
- Come along, Tom. Stop annoying Margo.
- Thank you, Barbara.
- Right, two rows of radishes.
- Yes, two rows of radishes.
- Can I have first squirt?
- No.
- Why not?
- Because you are useless at it.
I remember when you iced my birthday cake,
"Happy birthday".
It came out as "Hoppy bithdog".
- It was good cake, though.
- Yes, I know it was. I made it.
Come along, now.
Yeah, well, I suppose that's reasonably straight.
Jealous.
(Coughs)
- Did you cough, Margo?
- Yes.
I know I'm going to regret asking this,
but what are you doing?
Icing the garden.
I'll ask Barbara.
What are you doing, Barbara?
Planting radishes.
Thank you very much.
- I'll go back to my marigolds.
- No, no, Margo!
Seriously, Margo, we've worked out this
wonderfully efficient way of planting seeds.
Are you sure you've got the right word?
Look, Margo, you may not have noticed it,
but our whole lifestyle is geared to efficiency.
Nonsense! You don't even have a television set.
What's that got to do with efficiency?
Very well, transport.
You haven't got any transport.
Don't have any... What do you call that?
- Junk.
- Junk?
Let me tell you, Margo, that trolley
will still be going when your car is up for scrap.
Yes. Right, look at this. Look at this.
Wonderful. Built to last, that is.
Oh.
Oh.
I won't crow, because it's not in my nature.
Uh-huh... Not long now.
- What?
- Pinky. I think she'll go into labour soon.
- Really? Are you sure?
- All the signs are right according to this.
She keeps rolling her eyes and going, "Blimey!"
I'd roll my eyes and go, "Blimey!"
if I was going to have seven or eight kids.
- Hope there aren't any complications.
- So do I.
I've never been a midwife before.
Where have you been?
Oh, nowhere in particular.
I've just solved our transport problem.
Oh, have you?
How?
Come and see.
Tan-ta-da!
Oh, my God!
What do you think, Tom? Eh, Tom?
Eh, Tom? What do you think?
It's a horse.
It's like quicksilver, your mind.
Yes, of course. It's a horse.
- We can't afford a horse.
- It's a gift.
It's the gift horse
that you don't look in the mouth.
- People do not go around giving away horses.
- Oh, they do, they do!
Mr Betts the coalman offered him to me free.
- Why?
- Why?
Why?
Why? Well, because we just got talking.
You know, the way you do,
and Mr Betts has always been interested
in what we're trying to do
and Mr Betts has always been rather interested
in my hips
sol did a bit of um... leaning and things,
and er... he said I could have the horse.
And when do you spend the weekend with him
at his chateau in Littlehampton?
It's a bungalow, and we haven't fixed a date yet.
The thing is, Tom, you see, the horse
is getting a bit long in the tooth anyway,
and Mr Betts is going to get a lorry
for his coal run.
Now, until I came along, with my hips, of course,
he was going to retire the horse,
but the thing is he says it would be ideal for us.
It would be light work and he knows
we'd look after him properly, so there you are.
Transport problem solved.
- What about fuel?
- Horses don't drink petrol.
I know that, but they eat hay, lots of it.
Well, that's easy. Hay's common.
I mean, it isn't as if you have to import
bamboo shoots to keep a panda going.
- I've seen hay in pet shops.
- So have I, at 30p a handful.
We're talking about half a tonne of horse.
And what about stabling?
That's no problem.
He can have his own room in the garage.
- Yeah, with his own bed and dressing table.
- Now, there's no need to be silly.
I'm sorry, love, you're the one that's being silly.
It's just not practical, is it?
Mr Betts says Brian's got a lovely nature.
Oh, God, Brian! The horse's name is Brian.
Yes. Oh, come
and have another look at him, Tom. He's lovely.
He might be able to knit and do conjuring tricks,
but he's not a practical proposition.
I don't want him as a pet. I'm not an idiot!
He'dbe a... He'd be a working horse!
That is the point. There's not enough work
for him to do to warrant his keep.
It's a nice idea, but it's just not efficient, is it?
Is it?
Don't know.
Is it?
- Sit?
- No!
- Now, you know I'm right, don't you, love?
- Yes, I do, so shut up.
(Doorbell rings)
- Doorbell.
- It must be if you say it is.
You're the one that's always right.
- Hello, Tom. Is Barbara in here?
- Hello, Margo.
I see you brought the horse home, Barbara.
- Yes.
- In that case, surprise!
Oh. It's too large.
Never mind. We can always pad the rim
with the Telegraph colour supplement.
- What is it, a miner's helmet?
- You know perfectly well what it is, Tom.
It is my second-best riding hat.
Now, Barbara, I shall be proposing you
and Mrs Dooms-Paterson will be seconding you.
- What for?
- The pony club.
Margo, I've already told you, it's a working
horse!
I know, but after it's done all the silly things
you want it for during the day,
what could be nicer than an evening hack along
the banks of the Thames with the pony club?
- Almost anything, I should think.
- Implying what, Tom?
Well, what a mob! (Laughs)
They look like the French heavy cavalry
at Agincourt. (Laughs)
- Thank you very much.
- You'd never stop that lot with bows and arrows.
- Now, look, Tom...
- There's no point in going on.
We aren't keeping the horse anyway.
- Why ever not?
- Because as Tom pointed out...
Stop there, Barbara. I see the whole picture.
You wanted the horse, but the man said no,
and that's that.
The head of the house forbade you,
and that's that.
The Victorian patriarch disapproved,
and that's that.
It's all too familiar.
- Who are all these blokes?
- You are.
Margo, we've been friends for years,
and sometimes I don't think you know us at all.
Or perhaps I know you too well.
Rubbish.
We all know that Tom's stupid,
but he's not a tyrant.
Right.
Then why is his word always law?
It isn't. It's just that he's right
about this horse.
Very well, dear.
If that's the illusion you choose to cling on to,
I'll just take my hat and not say another word.
I will say this, Tom.
The day of the woman is coming.
With the pony club cavalry on their side,
they can't lose.
You... You bully!
Charge!
Good old Margo.
She just doesn't understand, does she?
She can't see
that you are capable of being totally unfeminine.
Thanks.
Ah... No, no. I didn't mean unfeminine.
I mean you're very feminine, Barbara.
You're ever so sexy.
There you are. You see, you can do it! Phvvor!
(Doorbell rings constantly)
MARGO: Who is it, Jerry? Who is it?
How the hell should I know?
Put the chain on before you open the door.
Shut up.
Sorry, Jerry, but the pig's in labour.
Well, what do you want me to do about it?
Hand out cigars?
We can't get a light up to the sty
and we wondered if we could borrow your light,
the one with the long lead.
Yeah, all right. Go on.
Ever thought of moving?
New Zealand's a nice long way away.
(Pinky grunts and squeals)
TOM: Go on, girl. Go on. Good girl.
Go on. Go on. Go on. Good girl.
Good girl!
- Five.
- Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it marvellous, Jerry?
I've always wanted to stand in a pigsty
in the middle of the night.
Will you hold that light steady?
I'm just trying to see what I'm standing in.
How can that matter at a time like this?
Oh, no. They're just an old pair of
very expensive slippers. That's all.
- Let me see, Tom. Is she all right?
- Yeah, fine. No problem.
Go on, girl. Go on. Good girl.
There's a good girl!
- Six.
- Six!
- Six so far, Margo!
- Congratulations.
Don't you ever tell me to shut up again, Jerry.
Well, I haven't got X-ray eyes, have 1?
I can't see through a door.
Hold the light still.
Don't go out in the night and leave the door
open. Anything could have happened.
- Yes, you could have got up and shut it.
- Oh, yes!
And found myself struggling with some
lecherous minicab driver?
Look, you'll be struggling with me
if you don't shut up.
- The main event is going on here.
- There's another one on the way.
- Come and look, Margo. It's beautiful.
- Certainly not. That sort of thing makes me faint.
Well, don't faint in here for God's sake.
- Good girl! Yes, go on. Go on. Seven.
- Seven!
Look, surely seven is enough.
Yes, you're quite right, Margo.
Pinky, Margo says seven's enough.
Let me see, Tom. Let me see.
- Oh, look. They're feeding.
- Yeah. Yeah.
Hold on. One's come unplugged.
(Piglet squeals)
It's marvellous, isn't it?
I read 250 pages on piggery midwifery.
Old Pinky can't read a word.
She just gets on with it.
I could never have imagined this a year ago.
No. Last year,
all we were breeding was discontent.
If you've stopped eulogising,
I'd like to go to bed.
Oh, yeah. Right, Jerry. Thanks a lot.
Hold on! Hold on!
Sorry, Margo, Pinky's disobeying you.
She's having another one.
This is rapidly becoming disgusting.
Goon! Goon! That's it.
Yes, goon. That's it. That's right. Good...
Oh, dear.
What? What? Let me see? What?
- Oh, no... Oh, that's not right.
- What isn't?
That little one, that last one. It's hardly moving.
- It's just lying there.
- I'm afraid it's a runt.
How very Anglo-Saxon.
Quiet, Jerry. Well, do something.
- Tom...
- Well, what do you want me to do?
Inflate it with a bicycle pump?
I know it's rotten, but this sort of thing happens.
It says so in the book.
You sometimes get a runt in the litter.
It's weak and excess, I'm afraid.
- What are you going to do about it?
- Nothing. You just let them die.
- You just let them die?!
- You can't do that!
- That's a bit clinical, isn't it?
- It's common sense.
- Tom!
- Now, Barbara, listen...
Barbara, it is common sense.
This is our livelihood.
It may not be a palatable fact,
but it's not worth fighting to keep it alive.
- It's not efficient.
- Damn your efficiency!
- It's not my efficiency.
- Yes, it is!
If you're turning into the kind of person
who'll let a little creature like that die just
because it's efficient, then you can stuff it!
- At last. The worm turns.
- Be quiet, Margo!
Yes.
- Can I use your phone?
- Certainly, Barbara. Yes.
Well, I... You can see I'm right, surely?
I am right!
(Pinky squeals)
- Who were you phoning?
- The vet.
He's on a call. Won't get here for two hours.
That's going to be too late, isn't it?
- What about the RSPCA or the Blue Cross?
- Same problem.
Right, we're going to need milk, brandy,
something warm to wrap him in.
- Oh, Tom!
- And something to help its breathing.
Oxygen. Where do you get oxygen?
The hospital. It's worth a go. Try the hospital.
Right. Right. Jerry, come along.
- Why me?
- You've got the car.
- So I have.
Margo, don't just stand there!
- Something warm, milk and brandy!
- Yes.
Oil
- Tom...
- What?
Remy Martin or Hine VSOP?
Sorry!
- Do you know what speed you were doing, sir?
- Yes, 60mph.
- And what is the speed limit in this area, sir?
- 30.
- So, you admit you were speeding?
- What a brilliant deduction.
- Can I see your driving licence please, sir?
- Look, please...
- Just one moment, miss.
- Mrs, actually.
- Your wife, sir?
- No, somebody else's.
Oh.
60mph with somebody else's wife at 3am
and in your pyjamas.
Doesn't look too rosy, does it, sir?
- Oh, please, we're in ever such a hurry.
- I dare say you are, miss.
Get on with it, will you?
If you're going to book me, book me.
- If not, get out of my way.
- Right.
This goes down in the big book, this does.
Oh, look, Constable, we're in ever such a hurry.
We've got to get to the hospital.
- Hospital?
- Yes.
I know it sounds unlikely,
but our pig's just had a litter
and there's this tiny runt, and if we don't get
any oxygen for him, he's going to die.
Little piglet, is it?
Why didn't you tell me this before?
Well, if I'd started bandying words like pig about
in front of a constable...
I see what you mean. Right, come with me.
- Where to?
- The hospital, of course.
I'll go ahead, clear the way.
You put your foot down.
Always wanted to do a mercy dash.
Never done one before.
- Here we are, Tom.
- You've been long enough.
- Well, I had to change.
- This is an emergency, not a social function.
It is also The Avenue, Tom,
and curtains have begun to twitch.
Here you are alone in the house.
If I'd been seen coming in your back door
in my night things...
Oh, yes, and Jerry driving off with Barbara
in his pyjamas is wife swapping, isn't it?
Exactly. It hasn't reached Surbiton yet,
but it's already got as far as Epsom.
- You make it sound like the Black Death.
- You don't condone it, surely?
- Oh, don't be daft! Now, watch the milk.
- Yes.
- Oh, you wanted something warm for the pig.
- Oh, ta.
- Margo, this is cashmere. It's nearly new.
- It's all right. It's Jerry's.
Yeah, I suppose that would make it all right.
- How is it?
- Well, it's still breathing, just about.
I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.
Still, press on. Ah, lovely.
That's fine. Now, put some brandy in it.
What proportions?
It's not a cocktail party.
Use your common sense.
Here, here, here.
When you mix it up, get it down that pig.
- Me?!
- Yes, you.
- Can't you do it?
- No, I can't. I'm making an oxygen tent.
No, I'm sorry, Tom. Sickness makes me feel ill.
Now, look, it's not what you feel.
It's what he feels, so get on with it.
- But...
- Do it!
Yes, Tom.
- Ah...
- Got it!
Got it? Good girl!
Oh, Margo...
A tip for the future, Barbara, always feed a piglet
from the corner of his mouth.
Thank you, Margo.
- How is the little mite?
- Fighting, fighting.
- Can I er...
- Yes, of course.
Poor little mite...
(Mouths)
Oh! This is Police Constable Hillman.
He's been marvellous.
- We'd never have got the oxygen without him.
- Tick. VG.
- What?
- Thanks.
A pleasure to help.
It's refreshing to see you do not devote
all your energies to moving people on
when they park outside the public library
for a couple of minutes.
You would be this gentleman's wife, would you?
- Yes. How did you know?
- It just fits, that's all.
- Look here, Kojak...
- Belt up! Let's get on with it.
- Oxygen tent?
- Yeah. I'll show you. Look.
Now, hold that.
Right, pig goes in here. You feed the oxygen
in through the draining holes.
On with the lid, and then you regulate
the atmosphere like you do with plants.
How do you feed the oxygen
into the draining holes?
With a bit of tubing, you see?
Which we haven't got!
Come on, think of something!
- Garden hose?
- Too thick. Margo?
- Think of something, Jerry.
- Sleep?
Got it How about an overflow pipe
from a car radiator?
- Perfect!
- Come on, then, sir. Let's get your bonnet up.
Why my car?
Why not yours?
It was 60mph, wasn't it, sir?
Yes. Yes.
I was going to put strychnine in your tea,
but I won't now.
Where did you learn to make an oxygen tent?
Oxygen tent classes.
It's all guesswork. I just hope I'm guessing right.
Oh, dear. It's hardly breathing at all.
Give it some more brandy.
Will it live, Tom?
Well, if it does,
it's going to be a chronic alcoholic.
Hurry up with that tube!
Barbara, why are you dusting?
Because I don't smoke.
You did say I could call back. Any news?
The vet's here. He's with him now.
Hello, sarge?
The vet's here. He's with him now. Over.
Yes, I will. Over and out.
My sarge says, "All the best."
- Oh, that's nice.
- Thank you.
Jerry...
Well?
We won.
- Oh, I'm so glad.
- So am I. Can we go back to bed now'?
Heartless!
Hello, sarge?
Teas all round in the canteen. Over.
Yes, I will. Over and out.
- My sarge says, "All the best."
- Again?
For your information, Madam,
my sarge has two spaniels and a hamster.
- Well, I'll be on my way.
- Before you go, thanks very much.
The vet said if you hadn't got that oxygen,
he wouldn't have made it.
Thanks, Mr Plod.
Corl I've never been kissed by the public before.
Good night, Constable.
- What's that supposed to mean, sir?
- Nothing. I was just being civil.
Yes, well, just you watch your step in future.
That's all.
And you.
Well, really!
What a night.
Nothing like animal husbandry
to while away the small hours.
- Can the piggy go back to its mum now, Tom?
- No, not yet.
The vet says we've got to hand-rear it
till it fills out, goes into long trousers.
- It's going to take a bit of our time, isn't it?
- Quite a bit.
- We haven't done the practical thing, have we?
- No.
Which is what you said when it was born.
- Yes.
- Sorry.
I'm not.
That's enough. That does it.
I've tolerated being woken up
in the middle of the night,
I've tolerated a running battle
with an idiot policeman.
I've even tolerated my car being wrecked
and my best jersey being used as a pig blanket,
but when I'm asked to witness you two
wallowing in your own treacle,
I draw the line.
I'm going to bed.
- Thanks, Jerry.
- Jerry, thanks.
Yes, well, I must be getting along too.
I'm so glad the pig's all right.
- Thanks to your help.
- Not at all.
Oh, I'll pop round
with the riding hat later, Barbara.
Why? I shan't be riding the piglet.
No, but you can get the horse now.
You won over the pig,
So now you can make Tom get you the horse.
I shall do no such thing!
Very well, Barbara. I suppose I must simply
accept that you are that kind of woman.
What kind of woman?
A woman who wants to be dominated, who
actually enjoys being ordered about by men.
Very well. I accept it.
Margo, I wouldn't say that you were averse
to a bit of male domination.
- I beg your pardon?
- I ordered you about in the kitchen.
- I didn't hear any complaints.
- Don't be absurd.
- In fact, your cheeks flushed quite responsively.
- They did not.
- You're doing it now.
- No, I'm not.
- You are.
- No, I'm not. It's the light.
Don't be silly. I'm going to bed.
(Chuckles)
Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.
Women, eh?
(Laughs)
(Chuckles)
Just get out into the kitchen and feed that pig.
- Now!
- Oh, yes, dear!
Of course, dear. I'll do it right away!