Green Wing (2004–2007): Season 2, Episode 6 - Episode #2.6 - full transcript

Caroline leaves a message on Mac's answer phone to say she thinks it was a mistake to end their relationship but it is intercepted and erased by Holly. Caroline goes on a date with Jake but...

God, you two are so lucky.

Oh, gosh. Need a bit of lip salve
on those lips, girlie.

Knob.

(clears throat)

Oh, come on, Mum.

Don't you ever say that word.

Oh. Doctor Todd.

Jake Leaf.

Can you get a verruca on your penis?

This is Mackenzie, my son.

Mac's son.



Don't touch me there!
Don't touch me... Touch me there.

(knocking)

(Caroline) Guy, are you awake?

- You back for more?
- The boiler's broken. I need you to fix it.

Are you back for more,
or have you got my breakfast?

Can I just say, nothing happened last night.
It was just a kiss.

- I don't remember it and neither do you.
- I remember it.

No. No, you don't.
There's no future and there's no history.

- There's biology.
- No. Can you fix the boiler? Please?

Oh, I remember it.

- Whoa.
- Yes.

I've been thinking. The very last thing
I want to do is put any pressure on you...

You know what?
That stethoscope is almost identical to mine.

Tell you what,
if you want to be like a real doctor,



stick it round there
and wear it round your neck.

That is uncanny.
We could... we could almost be related.

- It's freezing in here!
- Come and fix my boiler!

Have a bit more sleep,
I'll be back in a minute.

I don't really want you to think, 'Mackenzie
deserves a stable family environment.'

- Yeah.
- You know, with a mother and a father.

- Mm-hm.
- That he needs to be part of some...

I don't know, nuclear family.

And I don't want you to feel that you'd be
a total bastard if you walked out on him.

That is probably enough 'not putting me
under any pressure' at the moment.

Yeah, OK. Thanks.
They can get an engineer round this evening.

- This duvet smells of you.
- What do you mean?

- Your scent. Your body.
- Stop it. Get your own duvet.

We have to huddle together for bodily warmth.
That's what polar explorers do.

If you were a real man you'd be stripping
down that boiler and locating the problem.

Do you know the best way to forget about
Holly and the Mini-Mac?

Lobotomy.

Dinner with your rather attractive lodger.
A sensitive ear, a shoulder to cry on.

Don't think I have time
to look for a new lodger now.

- Is he hitching the rest of the way?
- No, it's a town sign.

- They're acting out nursery rhymes.
- Right. So this is...

- This is Dr Foster.
- Dr Foster. The one who went to Gloucester?

In a shower of rain.

Yeah.

- What? Is there a problem?
- I just had Dr Foster down as more of a GP.

No, you see, that's where you're wrong.
Dr Foster was definitely a surgeon.

Would I be right in saying
he was also the guy who stepped in a puddle

right up to his muddle?

- Middle.
- Middle, yeah.

What?

Not the sort of thing
a surgeon would do, is it?

What? So I'm early. Big deal. Get over it.

God.

Oh, I love your smell. It's like a cross
between washing powder and body.

Stop sniffing me!

I've got a bit of a...

- Not under my duvet, you don't.
- Ow!

- Well, is he British?
- Yes.

- Erm... Is he dead?
- No.

- Is he alive?
- Not really.

OK. Erm... Is he a scientist?

No.
Have you got anything for me?

- A drummer?
- A what?

- Is he a drummer in a band?
- No.

Erm...

Is he a professional golfer?

Martin, what makes you think you'd have
a father who's any good at anything?

- Ah. So is that a yes or a no?
- Just leave it.

- He's a golfer, isn't he?
- He's not a bloody golfer.

What difference does it make, anyway?

I'm just thinking, y'know,
Mac's got to know his son.

And somewhere out there I've got a dad
who hasn't got a clue what I'm like.

- He's a very lucky man, then, isn't he?
- Does he work with heavy machinery?

You'll never find him.

- Well, I've hired an investigator.
- You've done what?!

Well, suppose I was to hire an investigator.

Well, in that case you'd lose your job,
and I'd stick a knitting needle in both eyes.

Well, I haven't, then, have I?

Good.

- All right, bitches?
- Hi, Kim.

- Murrat, sit here.
- Hello. I'm Karen.

Don't speak to him.
He doesn't understand much English.

- Who is he?
- My pen pal from Turkey.

How can he be your pen pal
if he can't speak English?

We send photos and have sex on the phone.

Liz Hurley? Sexy-sex?

- How come he's calling you Liz Hurley?
- Isn't it obvious?

Soon, Murrat.
Then we have heap big sexy-sex.

Kim, don't!
You're talking to him like he's a caveman.

(speaks Turkish)

(replies in Turkish)

(both laugh)

- Get your claws out of my man.
- How come you know Turkish?

I don't. How weird.

I'm going for a coffee.
You want anything? No? See you.

Well...

Imagine, right, there's a kid, your kid,

running around in the world,
and you know nothing about it.

Yeah. Poor Mac.

Have you ever wondered
whether there might be someone out there?

I think I'd probably know.

Well... Not necessarily.

Mother's sense.

Well, well, well. Look at you.

- I'm Mr Right. I heard you're looking for me.
- Actually, yeah. Got any ID?

No, you'll just have to take my word for it.

- Kiss me.
- What?

- Don't ask questions. Just kiss me, quick.
- Wow. I didn't expect that line to work.

Were you just using me to get back at Mac?

Yeah.

- It's not very nice, being used, is it?
- Sorry.

No, it's all right. I've just
never been on the receiving end before.

- Look, if you really want to use me...
- Yeah, all right. Don't push it.

So, who can tell me what this is?

It's a pointer.

No, Mr Boyce.

Um, is it an extendable probe?
No, un b?ton?

No, it's a wand.
It's a magical, magical wand.

Very funny, Mr Boyce. Very good. Well done.

You're scaring me. Why are you being so nice?

Mr Boyce, have you ever heard of a society
called Consultant Radiologists International?

- Nope.
- And why would you?

It is the premium society
for consultant radiologists,

of which I happen to be
an esteemed member.

Anyway, they have a website,
a rather whimsical, light-hearted affair,

called 'Consult That.'

- That's really... That's poor.
- Well, you may think so, Mr Boyce,

but 103 other consultant radiologists
beg to differ.

Every week, more to the point,
they have a caption competition.

And, erm, this week, I won.

Yes. I won 100% of the vote.

- How many was that?
- 100%.

Yeah, but exactly how many voters?

- (whispers) S...
- I'm sorry?

- Seven.
- Seven?

- 100%.
- Seven?

- 100%.
- It's seven.

- No, it's 100%.
- It's seven, seven.

100%.

- Hi.
- I've got a name and a job.

- Yeah, so have I.
- Of the man you're looking for.

Oh, God, right. Yeah.
Already? That's amazing. Go on, then.

OK. Now,
he runs a newsagent's in Muswell Hill.

- No!
- Yeah.

Oh, my God! I knew he'd be successful.

- Are you sure?
- Quite sure.

And when your birth was registered,

your mum didn't fancy his surname,
so she made one up.

- What? So Martin Dear's a made-up name?
- Mm-hm.

Thanks, Mum, for a lifetime of misery. So can
I change it back to my dad's real name?

Well, I should think so, yeah.
His name's Donald Twatt.

Right.

OK.
Are you being serious? Cos I can't tell.

Oh, yeah. Bit of trivia for you.
It's a very common name in Orkney.

Oh, when my half-brother finds out,
I am dead.

- Are you miserable?
- No.

Really? Are you sure?
You look really miserable.

Like a sad-eyed clown in a '70s painting.

Yeah, there was something, wasn't there?
What was it? Erm...

Oh, that was it.
Caroline saw me with my ex-girlfriend,

she got all funny about it,
and stuck her tongue down your throat.

Women, eh?

Yeah. What you've got to do, OK,
is think of Caroline like a dog.

Not a stinky dog, with matted fur and nasty
breath and (barks) when you try and touch it.

But a nice dog, like Lassie.

So I should actually
think of Caroline as if she's Lassie?

Yeah, that's it. Now you've got it.

'Hey, Caroline, what's that?
There's trouble with one of the patients?'

'Diffuse abdominal pain that became
localised just in front of the right rib?'

'Oh, yeah, that does sound like appendicitis.
Come on.'

No need to be a twit about it.
I'm trying to help.

Sorry. Please continue
with your ridiculous analogy.

Right. Well, instead of trusting Lassie, and
working together in a big, hairy, shaggy team,

what you've done is you've hit her
with a stick. A Holly stick, in fact.

Oh, OK. So I should probably
keep the big Holly stick out of sight,

in case Caroline thinks
that I'm going to hit her with it?

Better go now, because apparently
there's an osteopath stuck down a mineshaft.

- I am one angry lady.
- Nothing to do with me, I hope?

Did I or did I not warn you
when you arrived here

you were not to bring personal issues
into our close-knit working environment?

I don't see what I've done wrong.
I have a child.

(car horn)

- I have a child... What is that?
- (car horn)

Just to make things easier for you, I'm
highlighting the issues I have a problem with.

Carry on.

- I've spoken to Dr Macartney.
- (car horn)

- He's listened to what I have to say.
- (car horn)

And I have to say,
he's been extremely sympathetic.

(car horn, car horn)

Are you getting the hang of it now?

Look, whether you like it or not,
we had a long relationship.

(car horn)

And I think he is entitled to an opinion,
seeing as he is the father of my child.

(lots of car horns)

- Oh, have you finished?
- (lots of car horns)

Look.

- I work here.
- (car horn)

- I'm a woman.
- (car horn)

The world is round.

Birds fly due south in winter.

The capital of Latvia is Riga.

Salmon return
to their native rivers to spawn.

- (car horn)
- Oh, come on. What was wrong with that?

You are not to mention spawn.

(beep)

You've got a ginger child

That floated out of your penis

Following the river

Of sperm downstream

Ah

Is it cream?

Guy, shh.

Here's a phrase. You've probably heard it
quite a few times before.

Could you put your pathetic little organ away?

- I can't, because it's a vital organ.
- (wah-wah effect)

(cheeky jingle)

I should warn you that part of my
job description is to remove vital organs.

- (wah)
- Oh.

Does it bother you
that your son's a bastard?

- Does it bother you that you're a bastard?
- Well, my parents were victims of circums...

Not even talking about your parentage.

If I were Holly's dad, I'd get the shotgun out
and have you down that aisle

quicker than you can say,
'Here comes the bride, 50 inches wide.'

Probably wouldn't want to talk about that
in present company.

Why? He can't hear a thing. He's had loads.

No, it's fine. I'm interested.

- Think he'll follow in his father's footsteps?
- Who, Mackenzie?

- Why would he want to be a hippy tosspot?
- Medicine, I mean.

- He'll get bullied at school.
- For being a doctor?

No, for having a dad
who looks like a King Charles spaniel.

I'll tell your dad you said that.

Just as soon as we work out where he is.

(cheesy hip-hop on organ)

Break it down now

Who's the daddy? The ginger daddy?

Mackenzie gonna get the finger

Cos his daddy is so freaking ginger

Break it down now

Huh, huh

Yeah. See?
Did you like that, ginger man?

(electronic pop tune)

Ah. Wondering if you'd heard.

- Heard what?
- Consultant Radiologists International, hm?

Your humble servant here has just won
their weekly caption competition, oh yes.

A light-hearted humorous trifle,
but one in which, nonetheless, I triumphed.

You still here?

The image to be encaptioned
was of deceased jazz legend Ray Charles, hm?

And remember, remember,
this is a journal for radiologists.

The 100% award-winning caption
was as follows:

'X-Ray Charles'.

You see? You see? 'X-Ray Charles'.
It's... Like an X-ray.

Oh, take me now, grim reaper.

Yes, 100% . That's me. 100%.

Not just a pretty face. No, no.

What... Shit.

- Hey, need a hand?
- Yeah... Oh!

Hey, sorry, didn't mean to frighten you.

No, it's all right. It's just that
sometimes when a black guy's next to me...

- OK.
- Oh, I don't mean in a racialist way.

No, it's just, you know,
I was born in a really very small town.

OK? And there's only
one black guy in the whole place.

Chas, his name was.
You don't know him, do you?

- No.
- Black guy. Green hair.

Just... Spiky green hair. It was just... Oh.

So for ages I just thought
black people were a kind of giant Muppet.

I mean, I'm all right now, you know.
I know it's not entirely accurate.

- (speaks Turkish)
- (speaks Turkish)

Murrat was just saying
how lovely my clothes were.

- No, he wasn't.
- How would you know?

He's Turkish. He's not insane.

He said you and me look like sisters.

He's not insane, he's not blind, and
I don't believe you can speak proper Turkish.

I could be your twin, he said.

Are you confusing the Turkish for 'twin'
with the Turkish for 'poodle'?

Yeah, done these.

- I can't face him.
- Macintosh?

I know what you mean.

He is tremendously ugly.

No. Oh, please, no, don't cry. Oh, don't.

There, there. Good person.

Why does nothing go right for me?

Because... because you're cursed?

I can't have one decent relationship, not one.

I don't own my own home, I've hardly
got any friends, and I'm a rubbish doctor.

- That's not true. You're not a rubbish doctor.
- I'm completely rubbish.

I might as well just sit here
until I decompose.

Look. Whenever I'm feeling down,
or marginally less splendid than usual,

I try this.

The Crown of Confidence.

See? I just put it on my head, and I say:

'Guy Secretan, you are a king.'

'You are a leader. You are the greatest
human being that ever walked this planet.'

Try it.

- Caroline Todd, you are a queen.
- There you go.

You are a leader. You are the greatest
human being that ever walked this planet.

Yeah, good...

You are ruler of land and sea.

You are the most intelligent, vibrant,
vivacious human being in all Christendom.

Your voice is rich as molasses,

and your skin glows with an ethereal... glow.

And you are magnificent,
and you are gorgeous.

Yeah, no, you're not, I am. I am.
It's my crown.

I'm magnificent and I'm gorgeous,
so bow down to me, you serf. Right.

- Oh, no, no, wait...
- My crown.

Hello. Is that Mr Twatt?

- Hi...
- (hangs up)

Hello?

Hello, Mr Twatt? Please don't hang up.
You've probably had this a lot...

(hangs up)

- Erm, I've done a bad thing.
- A bad thing?

I thought it was a good thing,
and there were good reasons why I did it,

but the good reasons weren't good enough,
and now I think I know how Macbeth felt.

- Boring?
- Guilty.

Guilty? Either you've bought shoes
you can't afford or you're having an affair.

- (whispers) The second one.
- Bloody hell, Harriet! Who with?

- Well, erm, I can't say, it's too risky.
- Is it who I think it is?

Oh, no, no, you don't know him.

Harriet, you do this when you're lying.

It's Lyndon, isn't it?

We had a picnic together and now
we're meant to be going on a date,

and I feel terrible.

- Did you have sex with him?
- Oh, no, of course not.

Harriet!

Well, I feel terrible.

I was sad and lonely and I wanted
some fun and I never have any fun,

and he is so shiny.

- Cheer up, it might never happen.
- it just did. Go away.

The difference between you and I
is that I value my contribution to society.

- So do I.
- Oh, right. Well.

And what have you done
that you're proud of? Hm?

- Oh, just shut up.
- Dear me. Drawn a bit of a blank, have we?

- I contribute more to society than you do.
- Hm.

Let me see, how many online caption
competitions have you won this week, hm?

Is it less than one? I think it is, you see.

Oh, a bringer of joy am I.

You see, the greatest gift
we can give is laughter.

- Life.
- No, laughter.

- Life.
- All right, laughter and life.

And I am a specialist in both.

Have a nice day. And do remember to smile,
it's very, very good for you.

There you are.

Oh, you'll pay for that, you happy bastard.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Cute.
- Thanks. I try my best.

I think you'd be good
at the whole fathery thing.

Maybe. Maybe so.

I think you should find out
if you'd be good at the whole fathery thing.

Because I think if you don't find out
how you'd be at the whole fathery thing,

I think you'd hate yourself.

So I think you should go
and do the whole fathery thing,

I should go and do the whole
sitting in a bar, getting drunk for a month,

thinking about this guy I almost
went out with, and then find someone better.

Someone less fathery.

Or, failing that, there's always Guy.

What... what do you think?

Mac?

He needs a man's push.

I think maybe you're right.

Really? Am I?

Except about the whole Guy thing.
You can do better than Guy.

- Maybe.
- Definitely. Definitely.

- Caroline?
- Yeah?

Thank you.

For what?

For, erm...

For making it easy.

For instance, if you had a photograph
of yourself looking rather shocked,

standing holding a bucket of water,
I could write underneath:

'Sue Whiter Shade of Pale.' You see?

The home of humour.

Anyway, got to be on my way. Remember,
'X-Ray Charles.' There's another one.

On your way, on your way.

Oh, dear Lord!

One caption competition,
he thinks he's Oscar bloody Wilde.

Yes. Well, the way I see it,
there are three things you can do

to bring Dr Statham down a peg or two.

I didn't come in here for advice.

- What are they?
- What?

The three things.

Oh, shit. I've forgotten.

I wouldn't care,
only he's just so inanely happy.

Dr Statham? Happy?
He's borderline schizophrenic

with a predilection for self-harm
and a jackhammer stammer.

- Then why's he always smiling?
- Well, I don't know.

Maybe he's had a stroke.

All I want is for him
to be as miserable as I am.

Oh, now, come on, Joanna.
That's pathetic. Anybody can do miserable.

Wh-wh-wh-what you really need to do
is scare the bastard.

Have some real fun for a change.

- Scare him?
- Yes.

I mean, what really freaks him out?

Erm... The Simpsons. Radio One.
Menstruation. Tilting trains.

Botrytis. That's a plant disease.

- The metric system, crazy paving...
- No, these are just paltry.

These are just mild irritations.
I mean, you really... You need to scare him.

You-you-you need
to make him scream like a little girl.

There must be something.
Just one little thing.

- You deal with memory, right?
- Sort of, yeah. It's one of the...

OK. I want you to completely remove
any trace of Dr Macartney from my memory.

I'm ready. Go.

Right. You do have some working knowledge
of psychology, I'm guessing?

- Little bit. Come on.
- OK.

It's just that you seem
to be confusing real life

with the film
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Can you do it or not?

I think I'd get told off.

But you could make all the people
who tell you off forget what you did.

See, now I think you're confusing me
with a cartoon supervillain.

Maybe I could knit you a suit.

I'm not sure wool is very compatible
with certain supervillainous duties.

- How are you with Lycra?
- Do you have the legs for Lycra?

OK.

All right. I just want you to relax.

Extend left. Extend right. Extend ahead.

There we are. OK.

I'm just going to listen in.

OK. Let's just imagine my legs in Lycra.

Pretty soon, you're going to have
no recollection of this Dr Macartney.

Wow.

I really think it's beginning to work.

Ooh!

OK.

Do you want to begin by telling me
a little about this Dr Macartney?

- Who?
- Mm-hm.

You Queen.

- No.
- Yes.

- No.
- Yes.

Brian May. Queen.

I want to break free

- Interesting. Mash. No chips?
- Yep.

I have decided to get my potato in a different
form so no one can steal it from my plate.

- Very ingenious.
- Exactly. Once bitten, twice shy.

How many times have you been bitten now?

Oh, nearly every lunchtime for at least a year.

- So let's say you've been bitten 365 times.
- Uh-huh.

How many times will you be shy?

Hm. About...

730.

732.

- Hey.
- Not a word, or I won't be able to do this.

Don't smile or I'll weaken and kiss your
face off. I have to tell you, I can't do this.

Us. My children, the baby in here,
even before it's born, I've ruined its life.

I've soiled its upbringing, its mother
is an adulterer and I should be stoned.

I'd give up my life for my children
and I will give up my chance for life.

Farewell.

Damn you, Mrs Schulenburg.

You can't even dump someone
without being lovable.

I'm sorry. Shall I make you
a cup of tea before I go?

Thank you.

So... Put your winkie up her yet, have you?

Doesn't it freak you out,
him staring at you like that?

Yeah, sort of.
But what can I do? He relies on me.

- You could just run away.
- No, I couldn't. He'd get lost.

Your call.

OK. Let's leg it.

No, it's a surprise for a friend of mine.

- But why me?
- Oh, no reason, really.

We haven't seen each other for a while.
I thought it'd be a good chance to catch up.

Right. What would you like me to do?

Just hide under his desk till he comes in,
then jump out and look evil.

- So he'll like that, will he?
- Oh, he'll love it, yeah. It's a sort of in-joke.

Oh, and he'd love a bit of green makeup.

- So he wears makeup?
- Not for him, for you.

This is not about my height, is it?

No, no, no. He just likes green, that's all.

Right. When I jump out,
would you like me to make a noise?

- Noise? Like what?
- Well...

Aaaah!

Yeah. Yeah, do that.

Now get out and piss off.

GBP250, local auction. Ardea cinerea.

Not one of the rarer ones,
but I've got to start my collection somewhere.

- You collect herons?
- Hoping to.

- I hope you take good care of him.
- I will, don't you worry.

I was talking to the heron.

Right, this way.

Joanna?

Oh, Jesus! That's all I need.

What the hell are you doing here?

- How did you find me?
- I got a phone call from our son.

That's just brilliant, that is.

Got an answerphone message
saying he works here as a doctor.

- Yeah, debatable.
- His name's Martin...

- Yeah, I know.
- Well, I thought I'd pay a surprise visit.

- Look, Twitt...
- Twatt.

Come back next year, I'm... busy.

- But where can I find Martin?
- Didn't he tell you?

He's gone away for two weeks.
Must have called you from Florida.

- Hello again.
- Hi.

Oh, hi.

- How are you?
- Yeah, good, good. Great.

Although I will have to come back to you
to erase some more rubbish.

- Oh, the old rubbish. I hate feeling rubbish.
- Me too.

What kind of rubbish?
General rubbish, or something more specific?

Yeah, general rubbish, with a few specifics.

Examples of these specific rubbishes? Please?

Well, off the top of my head,
and if forced to be specific,

I'd say, er, single, alone in the world,

aged 30 (mumbles) with no children,

a haircut I'm not sure suits my face shape,
and no adequate pension.

No pension? Oh, dear. That's not good.
That's enough to make anyone feel rubbish.

Exactly. I've got no one
to look after me when I get old.

You can't ask your children to help out
cos you haven't got any.

Thank... thank you.
I'm not likely to have any.

I may never, ever, ever, ever
have sex ever, ever, ever again. Ever.

- Unlikely.
- But possible.

You know, I might not.
And who are you to say?

Just an interested party. I hate
the thought of you never having sex again.

- Really?
- It'll play on my mind for quite some time.

In fact, if the thought
of never having sex again gets too much...

Or if you just fancy having a drink...

Give me a call.

- Thank you.
- OK. I'll see you.

See you.

- Who was that?
- Nobody. No one. No one.

Right.

Sorry.

Aaaah!

Whaaaa!

- (Statham yelling)
- (thuds and crashes)

No! No! No! No!

- No! No! No!
- (beating noises)

- Christ, what have you done?
- My heron!

My heron! My heron!

Oh, God.

Never mind your bloody heron.
What about him?

It's all right. He's not real.

Not real? He's my cousin!

He can't be. He's green.

Green! It's makeup, you idiot.

- Oh!
- He's not breathing. He's dead!

It was self-defence.
He leapt out at me, he went 'Aaaah!'

(gibberish)

Who did it he did a die...

Oh!

Oi! Walking spaghetti!

- Are you talking to me?
- Yeah, I'm talking to you, spaghetti boy.

Al dente.

I'm sorry, are you saying
I look like a piece of spaghetti?

Yes, farfalline man.
You vertical streak of... spaghetti.

Hm. Well, farfalline
is actually little bows of pasta,

so it's impossible to be
a little bow and a vertical anything.

- They're all in the pasta family.
- But they're completely different shapes.

Yeah, the v... The vertical spaghetti.
The farfalline was a mistake.

- Ah. What is it you want?
- I...

I'm warning you
not to set your cap at Dr Caroline Todd.

- How very 18th century of you.
- She's going through a vulnerable time,

- and I'm watching her back.
- Right.

Well, you watch her back,
and I'll continue watching her lovely front.

You'd better pay very close attention
to what I'm saying, spaghetti boy.

Or what?

Or something. That's what.

OK!

I paid him to scare you.

Oh! So it's your fault!

Oh, thank you. Well done.

It's my fault he jumped out.
You still beat his head in with a giant bird.

- We're going to have to bury him.
- Yes.

We're going to have to take him
to the country and bury him.

We... we'll need a saw. And... and gloves.

And-and, erm... And bin bags.

Throw him in the incinerator.

- Could you? Without anyone knowing?
- Yes.

Fine. Let's get on with that.

Sorry.

It's all right.

Yeah. Yeah, OK.

Yeah. Yeah. Bye.

- I thought I'd find you here.
- I'm not an alcoholic.

No, I mean, you know...

(whispers) After you and Mac splitting up.

(whispers) It doesn't hurt less
because you whisper it.

No. Well.

I could give you a lift home, but
I can't remember where I've hidden my bike.

Anyway, me and you could go out for a meal.

Two singlies, out on the pull.

No need. I've just made a date
with a complementary therapist.

- Someone's who's nice about you?
- Complementary medicine.

A holistic healer? He's called Jake.

Anyway, I went to see him,
and this is so profound, OK?

He said, right, 'Work like you don't need
the money, love like you've never been hurt,

and dance like no one's watching.'
Isn't that beautiful?

'Love like you've never been hurt.'
That's what I'm going to do.

Dance like no one's watching.

Yeah!

That's what I'm talking about.
So, that meal. Me and you.

Yeah. No, thanks.

- This one or this one?
- Oh! The left one.

- This one?
- Oh, you meant the tops?

I thought you meant... The black one.

Thanks.

- Oh, are we going out? Where are we going?
- We're not. I am.

Oh. Girls' night out.

Nope. I am going on a date.

A date. Who with?

- Jake. You know, big guy, therapist.
- Yeah. Spaghetti boy.

He's kind. He's never been in a coma,
doesn't have a psychotic girlfriend,

- and best of all, he likes me.
- Yeah, well, I like you.

I'm your landlady. You have to like me.

- I love you.
- And I love you too.

Night-night.

- (door slams)
- Please don't go.

It's coming in from (mumbles)...

Hello?
Hello. We've got a very poor signal.

I'm going to have to phone you back.

Right. I reckon it's time for bed, don't you?

Oh, OK. Mackenzie,
would you like to watch some television?

- Shall I tell him we'll be about half an hour?
- No.

- 20 minutes?
- Not playing that game.

- You are so not fun any more.
- So not playing.

Alan? Alan, is that you?

Yes, here I am, my sexy darling.
I can smell your lady wetness.

What the fuck are you wearing?

You said come in disguise.

- I said 'inconspicuous' !
- No, no, you definitely said 'disguise'.

- I really didn't.
- Well, let's have a look. Let's...

- Yes, there we are. 'Disguise'.
- You've kept notes?

Tell me you haven't written down
what you did to my cousin.

Tell me you haven't written down
what you did to my cousin.

Not really.

'Damaged heron.' Somehow that's worse.
No, that's going the same place as my cousin.

Oh, terrific. Where am I supposed
to jot down my useful ideas, then?

On your knob end? You won't need
a huge amount of space, will you?

Look, here's a useful idea.
Don't hit dwarves with herons.

Perhaps it might be a useful idea not to
hide dwarves under people's desks in future.

You shouldn't go boring everyone
with your caption competition.

100% , remember. 100%.

- We're 100% in the shit now.
- Ah, 50% each in the shit, if you don't mind.

- 100% , I think. You did the beating.
- Yes, well, he leapt at me and went 'Aaaah!'

So we've covered music, literature,
unusual relatives, mostly yours. Er...

What about pets? Pets?
An elephant? A flamingo?

- Actually, I've brought one with me.
- A flamingo?

Not a flamingo, no, no, no. Look.

- Your key ring.
- No, it's a Tamagotchi, look.

They're from, what, about 1987?

I've kept her alive 12 years.

I could get about
eight grand for her on eBay.

- Can I look?
- Yes, absolutely.

Just, erm, please don't touch any buttons.

I promise.

- Oh, God, it hates me.
- No, no, she doesn't. Look.

Just wants feeding, look.

- There.
- Aw, look! It's eating.

Eating. That's what they do...

Oh! Ooh...

There. Had a little bath.

Oh, here's a towel. There.

Daddy read a bedtime story?

Oh...

Just...

Do you know what?
I'm going to have that second glass of wine.

- OK.
- Yeah.

- Yummy.
- Bathwater.

Ooh.

Yes, keep it... Absolutely.

Thank you very much.

Oh.

- Again?
- Yeah.

Ah. Right, that's that done.

- Shh. You'll wake him.
- Don't you think he should be in bed?

- Out of sight, out of mind?
- I thought we needed to talk.

What?

I can't look at you when you're being serious.
It cracks me up.

That's ridiculous.

(clears throat)

Obviously, he deserves a dad, and, er...

I don't know what that means for us, but
we're going to have to take things very slowly.

There's a lot of unresolved issues
that need... resolving.

But I agree that we have to try.

- Copy that. Roger. Over and out...
- No, no. What do you actually think?

Kissy kissy.

No, I didn't say anything about a kiss.

Oh.

- Kissy kissy.
- Losing the line.

Connection's going dead.
String's a bit limp.

That is too late.
You've already kissed me. It's official.

That was not a kiss.

(kissing)

- No, that was not a kiss.
- You're doing it again, you filthy bugger.

- And now you're using tongues.
- That was not...

Pack it in. Pack it...

I mean it.

I've had a... I've had a fantastic evening.

(Caroline) It was great, wasn't it?

- Do you mind if I kiss you?
- Oh. Er...

Never ask for a kiss. It makes you
sound like a lumpy-kneed uncle.

- One of those creepy...
- No, I didn't want to appear rude...

No, it doesn't appear rude, no.
It's appearing, er, passionate.

Girls like, er, passionate men.

How dare you. I mean,
what kind of a girl do you think I am?

- Passion. I was doing... You said passion.
- Joke. Joke.

All right. OK. That's mean. OK?

Sorry, I won't do that again.

Come here.

- Oh!
- Ow!

- Oh, are you all right?
- Yeah, no, I just got a pain in my head.

Yeah, yes, it's, erm...
Oh, look, you've got some keys in your head.

Do you know,
that's a profoundly strange feeling.

- I think we should get you to A&E.
- I'll do it. I can go. You should stay.

- No, no, I'm not going to leave you.
- No, I'll be fine.

I should sort it out, I think, probably. Yeah.

- I had fun, though.
- All right, then.

- The stars are all out, look...
- There are no stars. There are no stars.

We're doing OK.

Looks like the stars are out.
See them shining...

- I feel kind of shivery. Is that normal?
- Feel my fingers...

(screams)

- Can you feel my fingers?
- I can feel your fingers.

Bye.

Guy! Guy!

- I, er... What?
- Guy!

What time is it?

Madam?

God! Warbling Jesus.

- Where Liz Hurley?
- What?

- I'm sorry to frighten you.
- It's all right. I've just had a day, frankly.

- Then you should have coffee.
- Coffee?

Yes. As black as hell,
as strong as death, and as sweet as love.

- Can I have a brandy in it?
- Yes.

Bloody marvellous. Come on, then. Let's go.

- How old are you?
- As old as hell,

as young as death, as sweet as love.

I see. And what sort of women do you like?

- As beautiful as hell...
- Yeah, all right. I'll do the talking.

(knocking)

- Let me in, please!
- (Caroline) What?

- Could you let me in, please?
- Let yourself in.

I can't... I cant find my keys.

Oh, no. When did you last see them?

I... I think somebody
might have broken in and stolen them.

- Really? I'd better call the police.
- You don't need to bother them.

Just open the door. Hey!

Night.

- Did you get your man?
- Mm?

No, no man. There's no man. Doesn't matter
how big, no... Nor wasn't big neither...

- The Mounties.
- Hm?

- The Mounties always get their man.
- Oh.

Yes. Yes.

The law catches up
with everyone in the end, doesn't it?

(gibberish)

- (phone rings)
- (answerphone beeps)

(Caroline) Hiya, it's me. The one.

Not the one you're with now,
the other the one. The proper the one.

Yeah, so, I was phoning
because, erm, because...

Oh, yeah. To say that
I've had the most fantastic evening.

And you weren't there.

Erm... Which is great. Isn't it?
That's what I wanted to say.

So, erm...

Call me back.

Bye.

Actually, I think we made a mistake,
Dr Macartney.

I think we made a mistake.

(answerphone beeps) Message deleted.

Well, that went all right.

To friendship.

To friendship.

And beyond.

To friendship.

I'll poo on the step.

Come on.

Wilma!

Oh, dear.