Goodness Gracious Me (1998–2015): Season 3, Episode 5 - Episode #3.5 - full transcript

*

Wee-ee-ee!
Come on, Beti, it's time for bed.

Wee-ee! No, I don't want to, Daddy.
Go away! Hai! What is this?

You don't want to be be tired for
school. I hate school. I hate YOU.

Is this how to talk to your elders?
Ma, I'm her primary role model.

I set her boundaries.
Boundaries? Boundary this!

If you don't go to bed I'll take off
my shoe and put it in your face!

Ma, she might be going through her
anal stage. She's in anal stage, I'm
in chappal stage! For God's sake!

You can't bully a child! You have to
talk to her. Give her choices!

Choices? OK.

CHOOSE - BED OR SHOE IN FACE! Daddy!



I don't believe it! Ma, what are you
doing? The shoe is the most noble
and ancient form of punishment.

It has been handed down over
the generations. Or don't you care
about your culture any more?

Ma, times have changed. She has to
undertand WHY she has to go to bed.

That's how it works. OK?

Understand why.
..Ah, I get it. I'm sorry.

Ah, Jajaja.

Jajaja. Now, listen, butsy.

If you don't go to soja-soja-sleep,
get good night's rest, do you know
what's going to happen? No.

I'll take off this shoe and put it
in your face. Like that, very hard.

That shoe never solved anything!
OK, the other one's harder

SCREAMS
Ma, don't you understand? What
did that shoe teach me? Nothing!

I obey you out of respect,
not for casual violence.

Is this any way
to talk to your elders?

Sorry, Mummy. Go to bed! You!



LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE

I'm here in this tree to blow the lid
off the public health scandal that is

the halal meat trade.

These people with their foreign
habits may seem innocent enough,

but beneath the facade lurks
something far more sinister,

And there it is. Let's go!

Mr Ishaq! Mr Ishaq!

Yes? I'm Bob Knonk.

Would you tell us what you're doing?

Loading up my van. But what with?

Meat.

And where did this meat come from?
I don't know. I just picked it up.
So it could have come from anywhere.

It could be badger, it could be rat!

How do you justify feeding rat meat
to an unsuspecting public?

I think it's a bit big for rat.

OK, bigger than a rat. Could it
be a horse? Do you people eat horse?

No, actually, it's sheep.

Right. OK, so you're trading in dead
sheep meat. Feeding this FILTH, this
VERMIN to innocent people who have...

It's only mutton. What?

Sheep meat is mutton, or...lamb.

Is it? Yes.

Still, yuk, eh?

Miaow, pussy cats. Yeah, it's me,
Smeeta Smitten showbiz...
You know the rest!

And welcome to another...
brand new pilot show.

An exciting look at the sad,
banal lives of everyday common folk,

..like you! Yes, it's the
telly-soapy-docu-drama, The Airport.

And here I am with Brian.

So what is it that you do, Brian?

No, really. When I said "What is it
that you do?" I didn't...Oo-ee-uuh!

You are 12 questions away from
£1 million. You've still got Ask The
Audience and Phone A Friend, innit?

W-w-w-what you chattin about, man?
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, that
wicked programme. I never seen it.

Well bow down and kiss my chuddies,
man. Everybody's seen it!

Is it wicked? It is MASSIVE!
It's got Chrissy-wissy Tarrant.

That geezer from Man O Man?
Yeah...but it's on every day.

What, like Countdown? Yeah,
but they ask you loads of questions.

What, like school? Yeah...

But then you win £1 million, innit?
Woah! KER-CHING!
That's totally wicked, innit? Innit?

How do we get on it, innit?

Onnit. Inni... Onnit. Shut up!

Anyway, it's easy. You just
phone up. They put you on hold
until an operative is available.

How long do you have to wait, man?

One and a half weeks, so far.

So, we gotta get on it
and win that money, innit?

If I won £1 million,
I'd big it up, man. Yeah?

I'd get a phat car, and a crisp
designer suit from somewhere flash

like...em...Reebok!

And I'd buy my dad's shop, and make
HIM deliver the papers, man!

What would you do with £1 million?

Pay my phone bill, innit?

With £1 million, you could live off
the interest. Whoa! What interest?

The interest you get from the
rasmalai when they find out you've
got £1 million! RASMALAI!

They love money! But I don't
remember Bindia being too happy
when you offered her a tenner for...

That was different.
I was young and foolish.

I realised that you can't buy women
like items from a shop.

You gotta buy the items from a shop
for the women!

You know what they say?
Money doesn't make you happy.

Cha, man! White people say that!
You don't get no Asians coming out
with those kind of Bungleisms!

It must be difficult to win it,
innit? Not if you're a smart geezer
like me, and it's multiple choice.

You get to ask everyone in the room
what THEY think. If you don't know,
they take away half the answers.

Wait, man. So it's like GCSEs? Yeah!

But the best bit is, if you're still
not sure, you can phone a friend.
Whoa! You can phone me, man!

If I'm not in, leave a message
and I'll get back... Ji-ji-ji-ji,

Not you, man. I'll phone somebody
who goes to school, innit? Wicked!
MOBILE: Hello, hello?

We're through! ..Hey, we wanna be
millionaires, man, millionaires.
What? 16.

What? ..Says you gotta be 18. We
have to wait for FOUR YEARS!? Yeah!

We ain't waiting no four years...

She said TWO years.
Hold! We'll hold! INNIT!

Goody.

- Have you got this in a size six?
- The Sheba? One minute, madam.

Hmm. I don't know.

Ow! Sorry, Auntie.

Shh! ..I'll take them.

Once upon a time there were
three little Asian girls who all
graduated from Police Academy.

Sabroj,

Sabroj, Jill-jit,

Sabroj, Jill-jit, and Khadija.

They all got hazardous assignments,

I'm the clever one.

and threw themselves into their work.

And I'm the pretty one.

They were just as good as the men...

I'm the one who does Kung Fu.

..especially...

him.

All that stuff was culturally
inappropriate. I took them away
from that. Now they work for me.

My name...

..is Channa.

I may be wrong, but I think
something's going on.

D'you think we should go after them?

But wait. We've got
all our freezer stuff in the boot.

To hell with it.
Come on Angels, let's go!

GUNFIRE

Is my hair bleeding? No, it's fine.

Let's kill them horribly, Angels!

Angels, I'm sorry you've
just missed Channa, but I've got him
here on the intercom.

'Hi, Angels.'
ANGELS: Hi, Channa.

'I hope you've all learned something
today.' What's that?

Why, that a woman's place
is in the home.

Who the hell are you, anyway?
I just press the intercom button.

Sorry, Auntie. Sorry.

Getting married soon?

About time! But what kind
of wedding will it be?

Do you want a proper, old-fashioned,
traditional wedding? The kind
you remember attending as a child.

Then come to us -

We'll find you a traditional venue -
a crumbling church hall
in the middle of a council estate.

Don't worry about food. It's all
bulk-produced by the same family
firm. We also provide the DJ.

And the priest.

Your guests will dine in style,
with this traditional Punjabi
table setting.

And ye-he-he-hes, just look at this
authentically styled centre-piece!

Worried about who to invite?
Leave it to us.

We'll provide over 200 people
you've never met before.

And to make sure your old-fashioned
wedding is preserved forever,
we'll throw in the video man.

Complete with those special Top Of
The Pops effects we all love to see!

So plan your wedding
the traditional way!

You'll be glad you said "I do."
I do!

So call us now -
The Pukka Wedding Company.
The Pukka Wedding Company!

So, do you believe
in premarital sex?

Yeah,
I don't have a problem with that.

Great! You see I'm getting married
next week, so could we shag now?

Check, please.

In the last episode
the Earth had strayed inexplicably
from its normal orbit.

As it tumbled ever closer to the sun,
scientists predicted meltdown.

How are those readings looking now?

S-s-surface temperature has reached
60 degrees, and c-c-climbing.

Well, how long have we got?

Uhhh! Nothing can save us now!

# Oi chakte fatee-eeh! #

B-B-Bhangraman!
Kidha bai hushar admi?

B-b-but surely
e-even you can't do anything. Hut!

What's he doing? I don't believe it!

He's using the mirrors on his
traditional North Indian waist-jacket
to reflect the rays back to the sun!

But how can he s-stand the heat?

I guess years of playing
Punjabi weddings in tight trousers
has made him immune.

# Oi chakte fatee-eeh! #

It w-w-worked. The t-temperature
is returning to n-normal.

Oh, and the Earth is returning
to its normal orbit.

We're ALIVE!

It's all th-thanks to Bhangraman.
How can the w-world ever repay you?

M-m-masala vala char pulao.
Mera moo jai reha hai!

I'll get the milk.
I'll get the l-l-lachees.

# Oi chakte fatee-eeh! #

A WOLF HOWLS

POUNDING HEARTBEATS

GROWLS

Silly doggie!

So. what's your idea
of a perfect date?

Ah, imagine walking hand-in-hand
down a deserted tropical beach.

The sun is setting in the horizon,
and as we sit on the warm sand,
the waves lap over our bare feet.

Wow! I can almost feel it.

Eh? Well, you're not there, innit?

Check, please.

OK, next up it's
Britain's first Suitable Boy Band.

Please give it up for
the High Street Boys.

# You are Punja-bi,

# You've got a deg-ree.

# We met through par-ents

# Let's make arrange-ments.

# You don't have boy-friends,

# I drive a Mercedes-Benz.

# You don't dress Wes-tern,

# We're a match made in Hes-ton.

# Tell me why
we've got no time for da-ting?

# Tell me why
our relatives are wait-ing?

# Tell me why
we're rushing the engage-ment,

# Let's make arrange-ments.

# I'm not.. He's not... ecsta-tic,

# I am... He is... pragma-tic.

# I've saved a dowry pay-ment,

# So let's make arrange-ments.

# Tell me why
our love is always gonna last?

# Tell me why
our folks are from the same caste?

# Tell me why
my auntie says it makes sense?

# Let's make arrang-ments.

# They say in the West,
that true love is best,

# And arrangement
just brings discontent.

# But if love is so great,
tell me why does the rate

# Of divorce stand at 50 per cent?

# I may... He may... not move you,

# But my mum... his mum...
ap-proved you.

# So let's stop look-ing,

# The pundit needs book-ing.

# Tell me why
we've got no time for da-ting,

# Tell me why
our relatives are wait-ing.

# Tell me why
we're rushing the engage-ment,

# Let's make arrange-ments,

# Let's make arrange-ments,

# Let's make arrange-ments. #

APPLAUSE

WHISTLES

# Skipinder, Skipinder,

# Skipinder, Skipinder...

SITAR DROWNS WORDS
# ...kangaroo #

I'm telling you, boys. That tubby
git has got a lot to answer for.

Steals my women.
Sleeps indoors in his fat pyjamas.

I'm stuck out here
in the SODDING rain. Not having
a shag-pad ruins your love life.

Love life, man? You ain't never had
no girlfriend. Or boyfriend.

I nearly did this morning.
I had a big spliff,

and was on my way to the off-licence
before my AA meeting, and I suddenly
smelled something fishy.

SNIFFS THE AIR
And I was right - it was a girl!

She was kinda weird, doing all this
Tales of the Unexpected,
Aussie Rules, Kama Sutra shite.

I wasn't sure if
she was facing away or towards me.

Either way, she had an arse like
a Patel's extension or an Indian
loft conversion! BIG! Get on with it!

I'm planning to get her pissed,
so I follow her. But TUBBY gets
there first! Careful, it's slippery!

That line never works for me!
You wait here, Skippy.

It's Ski-PINDER! Great. You get
to look at her arse and I get
an eyeful of your wobbly buttocks!

What's your secret? How come you're
such a big hit with the girls?
You're little, fat, got a HUGE arse.

Well, Twadi. Oh, it's a dubrey ring
to put around your dingle-dangle.

PANTS
Perfect fit!

So that's how he does it. I love
the pleasure! Whoa... Wait a minute!
I've gotta let the ladies know!

I'll be bleedin' irresistible! I'll
be up to my furry ears in totty!

What's the way
to reach the most women?

I've just had a great idea. ..Is
that Sunrise Matrimonial Show? Yeah,

I'm Hindu, Punjabi kangaroo,
three... No, SIX foot two,
Johnny Depp lookalike,

degree in pharmacy, huge dingle-
dangle on account of my dubrey ring.

Just wait, ladies, I'll service all
of you. Don't touch the radio, Skip.

I know... Oo-ooh! Yes, my dubrey
ring. Now that's tight on me.

Now, what I need to do is test it
out on a dirty blonde. Hey...

I smell a herring,
and I know how to catch it.

Ouvre la porte, Mademoiselle
Blondie, j'ai un dubrey ring dans
ma grande dingle-dangle pour toi.

Hello, Skip. Lisa Goddard!
I've picked a born-again Christian!
What have you got there?

It's a... Ooh!
Pretty impressive for a 'roo, hey?

You do collect some funny things,
Skip. You can talk. What about Alvin
Stardust? She dissed you good, man.

It was that tubby kid's fault!
I'm gonna get that kid back!

Aah! Ooh! Tight! Hey, kid, come out
here. I wanna show you something.

YOU come out HERE. Come on, Skip.

Blimey, he said that
without moving his lips.

All right, Skip.
Now what is it you want to show me?

It's raining!
I've got you. I've got you good!

Actually, we've suffered
a lot of intimidation recently.

Oh, aye. Intimidation.

We've been shouted at in the street,
and had bricks through
our front room window. Bricks!

And then the other day
I...opened the front door,

and there was...human excrement
on the doorstep.

Actually...

That were me.

I forgot me keys.

I just want to say
those three little words.

You're too fat.

Check, please.

Surjeet!

It's St John, Dennis,
you drooping brewer.

What are you doing here?

Well, we British love to come down
to our local for a pint.

Course we do. Oh, Vanessa, hi!

Not yet, but I'm working on it.

I hope you've left us
something to drink.

Old Peculiar Cobbler's, Dennis?
Oh, it's these bloody trousers,
old chap.

Dennis, I think he means
"Would you like something to drink?"

I knew that!

Three pints of Cobbler's please,
and a yard of ale for you, Vanessa?

Eh, I think I'll try
a yard of vodka, now.

Dennis, why don't you grab a table?
Grabbing, grabbing, grabbing...

..grabbing, grabbing... I must say
I'm very surprised to see people
like you in the pub.

What do you mean by "people like
us"? It is a peculiarly British
habit, is it not? Yes.

And we are peculiarly British.
We are as peculiar as they come!

Pork scratchings, Dennis?

Yes, I told you.
It's these bloody trousers!

Yes, well I often like to pop into
the pub for a quick aperitif.

Well, you do have
that aperitif dependency problem.

They don't do a yard of vodka, so I
thought six inches would be enough.

Yes, that's always been
your problem.

I thought I'd order us some food.
Lovely, and what could be
more English than a pub lunch?

Absolutely! Roast beef... Super!
Yorkshire pudding...

Oh, yummy! Horseradish on your meat
and two veg, Dennis? No, for the
last time it's these bloody...

Oh, twadi!

Oh, what a lovely view
of the village!

Well, this is the England
that I love. A hearty Sunday lunch
in a local pub, warm beer,

cricket on the green,
young maids cycling,
MUSIC: Land Of Hope And Glory

cream teas,
young boys scrumping for apples

making jam for the village fete,
the smell of newly-mown hay,

strawberries with cream, Cider with
Rosie, a lark rise over Candleford.

Darling,
I think that chappie wants a word.

Ah, what can I do for you,
stout yeoman.

Who are you calling "stout",
Gunga Din?

There appears to be some
misunderstanding. My name is
St John, and this is Dennis Cooper.

BOTH: How do you do?

I don't think YOU understand. We
don't like your sort round 'ere.

I'm not sure I'm quite with you,
old fruity.

Why don't you all go back
from where you come from?
Well said, Epsibar.

I think I know what the problem is.

ALL: What?
They obviously don't like strangers.

Yes?
And we're...

WE'RE WHAT?

We're from Chigwell.

Right, light them crosses, Espibar.

I think we're in a bit of a pickle.
Are we going to die? Oh, yes. Ah.

We'd better start praying. Yes.

Our father, which aren't
in the heavens, do something, yah!

ALL: THANK YOU, GOD! GET HIM!

Come on, boy.

Fetch!

What is it, Lassi?
Someone is trapped down the well?

Daddy, daddy!

Lassi says, Lassi says that there's
someone trapped down the well.

Salty!

Lassi! Lassi! Na-aay!