Harry Enfield and Chums (1994–1999): Season 1, Episode 5 - Episode #1.5 - full transcript

[theme music playing]


[cyclist whistling]

Cyclist! Halt now!

Now, I do not believe you wanna
be intending to pass under

that there low bridge
with a high companion

a-perched atop a ladder

that is higher
than the aforementioned low bridge?

He's got a point there, Dave.

And you don't wanna be riding an old bike
with a ladder on it anyway!

That's not a modern form of transport,
you wanna get yourself a nice car

like a Nissan Cedric, a Fiat Humberto
or a Honda Pessary.

We'll go and put a deposit on one now.

- Cheerio, bye-bye, ta!
- [man] Cheers, mate.

Excusing my pardon!

Now, correct me if I'm wrong but I very,
very, very much doubt that I am,

it's never been known to happen before,

but I do not believe you wish to persist
with this beer-paint confusion!

Well, that explains these crippling
stomach pains

and this disappointingly wishy-washy
first coat. Thanks very much.

Cheerio, bye, ta-ta!

[Lee] Only me!

You don't wanna do whatever you're doing.

What is it precisely that you are doing?

Well, I'm just about to test the trigger
of my new loaded shotgun,

while simultaneously licking out
the small speck of dust

from the barrel with my tongue.

You don't wanna do test out the trigger
of your new loaded shotgun

while simultaneously licking out
a small speck of dust from the barrel

with your tongue.

If you do this simultaneously,
at the same time simultaneously,

you shall blow your head off
and thus acquire a husbandless wife

- and fatherless children.
- Oh, yeah. He's right, you know, Paul.

You've saved my life.
How can I ever repay you?

All in a day's work.
Cheerio, bye, ta-ta.

Morning, morning, morning,
morning, morning, morning!

- Morning.
- Only me!

You don't want a taut rope outside
your front door.

It'll hinder your progress from house
to street.

Oh, yeah. Thanks.

Cheerio, bye, ta-ta.

There's something not right about today.
I can't quite put my finger on it.

- [crashing]
- [sighs]

No, it's all right, actually.

Dr Philip Boyish Good Looks here.


Only you just call me Dr Philip.

People often say to me,
"Dr Philip, you must be jolly busy

what with your surgery work,
all the books you write,

not mention your television programme.
You must be jolly busy, Dr Philip."

Well, I am,
but what fun my work is.

Especially when I can help all
you lovely ladies

with your menopausal problems.

For instance, I have got a letter here
from a lovely lady called June,

from Birmingham.

"Dear Dr Philip...

I'm going through the menopause,

but I cheer up when I fantasize about you
and me."


You must be feeling better already
to have naughty thoughts like that, June.

But don't worry, it's perfectly all right
to have fantasies.

I often have fantasies about me.

- Morning, madam.
- Oh, good morning, young man.

- Do you want me to fill her up?
- Oh, young man!

- Young man!
- Nobody's filled me up for over 20 years.


[Glad] Oh, you cheeky young man!

Oh, look at his arms, Hild,
ain't they lovely?

Yeah, so sinewy and muscular.
You're a lovely young man,

- aren't you, young man?
- Uh, thank you.

- Do you want leaded or unleaded?
- Leaded, young man.

Yeah, bet you got plenty of lead
in your pencil, ain't you, young man?

Oh, look at you waving
your lovely big nozzle about!

Here, if I was 20 years younger,
I gobble you up for breakfast.

I'd have you in my sandwiches.

I'd take my teeth out for you.

- Young man!
- Young man!

- Oh!
- Oh!

You've done that before, haven't you,
you naughty boy?

- Where's the lovely dark boy today?
- Uh, he's hiding out the back.

- Oh, we like him, don't we, Glad?
- We do!

You know, we're thinking
he's just spitting image

of a young Harry Belafonte.

Mind you, you're a lovely young man
yourself, young man.

You're the spitting image
of a young Bernie Winters.

Oh, you are. You're the spitting image
of Frankie Vaughan.

There you go.

- Thank you, young man.
- Check the oil, young man.

- [Glad] Check the oil.
- Okay.

You can fiddle with our dip-stick
if we can twiddle with yours!

Oh, you are a naughty young man,
you ought to be ashamed of yourself

- for saying such things.
- Oh, look at that, Glad. Isn't it lovely?

It's like a little peach.

- We do like that, don't we, Hild?
- Aw.

- [thuds]
- Oh, young man!

- Poor young man, you hurt yourself?
- Oh, young man.

Come and have a sit down.
Let your Auntie Hildy look after you.

- Let's go for it, Hild.
- All right, Glad.

- [engine revving]
- [tire screeches]

[young man] Please, help!

Hello. Didn't I get an awful lot
of letters from you ladies out there,

after my piece last week
on how rediscovering your sex life

after the menopause
can help keep anxiety at bay?


And you all want to know we could meet
a nice cuddly, younger man,

preferably of the television doctor
variety. [chuckles]

Well, I think you're all very naughty.
But I'm flattered. Mm.

Remind me, Charlie,
what's this called again?

- Sailing.
- That's the chap!

- That was the boom.
- Really?

Seemed more like a thud to me.
Or perhaps a bang.

Yah, definitely a bang.

No, Tim, it's called "the boom."

The pole at the bottom of the sail
is called "the boom."

Hang on,
I'll get the hang of it in a minute.

I said a minute,
not more like a few seconds.

Okay, I've got it.

It's coming across. It's coming,
it's coming, it's coming.


for some reason I'm feeling a bit groggy.

Must be sea-sickness or something.
Would you go over it one more time for me?

- When the boom comes across...
- Yeah.

get out of the way.

Boom. Across. Out. Way. Me. Get.

It's coming across now.

- Boom comes across, I get out of the way!
- [splash]

Totally amazing day!

Absolutely and utterly mega-brill
in every way!

Really was. Charlie is an absolute saint.
Oh, you'd be so jealous of me.

Anyway, sorry.
You were saying...

Four twenty-seven...

precisely. Thank you very much.

Excuse me, Hill. I wonder if I might be
so bold

as to ask your good self for an autograph?


Thanks very much, Hill.
If you could sign, "To Frank Doberman,

- with respect, Hill."
- Yeah, sure. Do you have you a pen?

Oh, sorry. Foolish of me.

Congratulations on your success
this season.

- Thank you.
- Stunning performance by yourself

- and your Williams-Renault car.
- Yeah. Thank you.

I myself in fact, uh, drive a Renault
19 1.4 TLS injection.


You're most welcome to come round our gaff
and give it a spin any time you like.

Hmm. Thanks.

As long as you didn't drive it like one
of your Formula One machines

- round our way.
- You wouldn't be too happy about that?

No, Hill, I would not!

We live in a residential area,
and in such an area you would abide

- by the Highway Code!
- I see.

You'd better bloody see!
If I lent you my Renault 19...

- Uh, have you got that pen?
- Quiet Hill! Don't interrupt!

If you started accelerating
to speeds up to 140 miles an hour,

in Sunny Glade Close with little kiddies
playing on their bikes!

If you took a corner
out of Honeysuckle Drive

at over 80 miles an hour,

I should say, "Oi! Hill! No!
This ain't a chicane at Silverstone!

This is Merryfield Drive,
leading into The Gables!

Apply the brakes now! Get out of my car!
You're a menace to yourself,

other road users and pedestrians!"

Look, mate, I've got to go.

Hill, come back! How dare you go
when I'm administering a reprimand!

That Mansell, he understands
the essentials of residential driving,

but you! You're a piece of scum!

[breathes heavily]

These bloody celebrities!

Who do they think they are?

My postbag's absolutely bulging this week.

Oops, that sounded a bit rude, didn't it?

Mostly with letters from menopausal women
interested in my daily routine.

Well, I'm an early riser--
Oh, that sounded a little bit rude too.


I get up about 6:30, jump straight
in the shower. A light breakfast,

then it's into the shower again,
get rid of those toast crumbs. Oh.

Then straight to the TV studios,
a quick shower and "Action!"

I'm on camera,
answering your menopausal queries.

Then it’s time to lather myself all over
in the shower

before popping off to my surgery,
scrub myself down in a nice warm shower

before dealing with
a number of what I call

[whispering] women's complaints.

After work, I shower, then it's
a light meal of pasta and salad

and a nice glass of red wine
with a friend,

before jumping in the bath to give
my naked body a nice relaxing soak.

A quick shower, then I slip into bed
with my favourite teddy, curl up,

and I'm asleep before my head
touches the pillow.


Come on, Kevin, stop loafing!
You're not with your mother now.

Please, Auntie, not in here.

Don't be stupid,
this is a nice cheap shop.

Now, what kind of trousers do you want?

- These ones.
- Get them down and hold them up to you.

- Huh?
- No, they're foul!

We'll get you some corduroy slacks
from over there.


- All right, Kev?
- Huh!

- Perry! What are you doing here?
- Got a Saturday job, ain't I?

- What are you doin' here?
- Uh, nothing.

Kevin! These are nice.
Come and try them on.

- Who's that woman?
- I dunno.

Kevin, I am desperate for a wee!
If you don't hurry up and buy these,

I shall wet my pants.

- You, assistant.
- [Perry] Me?

Come here.

- My-- My nephew wants to try these on.
- No, Auntie!

- Shut up, Kevin.
- Changing room's got someone in it.

Right, you can try them on here.
Take your trousers off.


Oh, don't say you're worried
about your little man falling out.

Nobody's remotely interested
in seeing that. Now, come on.

- [Perry giggles]
- [cries] Shut up!

Kevin! Don't be rude to the assistant.

- But I...
- Apologise at once!


Now hurry up or I shall wet my pants.


Very smart. You can wear them home, Kevin.


I haven't time to wait for you
to change again. How much are they?

- Fourteen pound ninety-five.
- [cash register dings]

There you are and hurry up with my change
or I shall wet my pants.

Come along, Kevin. Hold my hand going
down the road, or I'll lose you.

We'll go to Peter Jones where I can have
a wee and buy a bra and pants.

Good evening.

Good evening, Mr Cholmondley-Warner.
Why, you're looking a little stern today.

That's because, Greyson, we're presenting
today a guide of the activity involved

in the successful execution
of one's conjugal rights

in order to produce offspring.

Oh dear.


The whole business of conjugal activities
is sordid and frightful,

but it is at least short.

To help us illustrate conjugal obligations
in an entertaining,

as well as and informative way,
we have the assistance

of an attractive young lady.

- Good evening, Mr. Greyson.
- Good evening, Mrs. Greyson.

Immediately after marrying a young lady,

the tricky business begins of getting
your wife to agree to go to bed.

It's awfully late, dear.
Nearly half past six.


Is it time for Peter Rabbit
and his Mrs Tiggywinkle

to go up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire?

Or Weary Willie to take his Tired Tim
down the Yellow brick road to Slumberland?

Or Pooh to lead his little piglet
through the Land of Nod

and into the arms of the sandman?

[Mr. Cholmondley-Warner] Never, never,
never attempt to use strong language

in front of a lady in this manner.

It's indecent.

Given time, an atmosphere will flourish
in which the conditions

for conjugal unpleasantness
will become possible.

- Happy, darling?
- Yes, darling.


The more foreign-minded of you might even
consider sharing a bed.

But remember, before you start,
it's not only a stiff upper lip

you're looking for.

[Mr Cholmondley] How to maintain not only
a stiff upper lip?

Number one: Visual Assistance.

It may be of some help to use
an assistance of a visual nature

in order to encourage the gentlemen's
"not only a stiff upper lip."

Here's a photograph of the Duchess
of Arbroath without a hat on.

Most invigorating!

[Mr Cholmondley] Number two:
Stimulating Chat.

Some partners may find it invigorating
to indulge in talk

of a stimulating nature.
During the act of unpleasantness itself.

A most stimulating chat
on the Home Service

- earlier this evening, Mrs Greyson.
- That's stimulating indeed, Mr Greyson.

Who would have thought that Princess Alice
bred golden retrievers?

And now that you're invigorating
to stimulated you're ready

for the act of frightfulness itself.

Now, it's time to have a stiff drink
and get on with the ugly business in hand.

As this is your first attempt
at beastliness,

you may have difficulty uniting
your unmentionables.

Why not invent a coded language
to prevent graphic references?

- [Greyson] Is that you, Mrs Greyson?
- [Mrs Greyson] Yes.

[Greyson] Has the train arrived
in Paddington yet?

[Mrs Greyson] No, I'm afraid
it's in Colchester. Ouch!

[Greyson] I'm so dreadfully sorry.

A few final points.

To many couples a sense of humour in bed
is most important.

Now, let’s see the whole ugly process
in explicit detail.

- [Mrs Greyson] Ouch!
- [Greyson] Sorry.

So, there you have it. Next week:
How to achieve conjugal unpleasantness

in the poorer countries of the world

where the women will... [clears throat]
for a potato.

["You'll Never Walk Alone" playing]

♪ Alone ♪

♪ Alone ♪

♪ You'll ne-- ♪

♪ ...ever walk ♪

♪ Alone ♪

Up the Toffees!

- Eh? Eh? Eh?
- Wha? Wha? Wha?

We support Liverpool.
Liverpool are great, Everton are crap.

And that's where you're wrong see, pal.
'Cause Everton are great. And guess what?

- What?
- Liverpool are crap!

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah!

Right, let's sort it!

- All right, come on!
- All right. All right. Calm down.

Liverpool and Everton supporters

aren't supposed to scrap
on the way to the cup final.

We're all great mates, mixing freely,

- jovially and scousily on the terraces.
- Do we?

We do! In fact, Ga',
I hope your team wins.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

- And I hope you also friggin' win an' all.
- Oh, yeah?


So, we're all agreed then.
A draw's the best result.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

♪ Wemberley! Wemberley! ♪

♪ Wemberley! Wemberley! ♪

♪ Wemberley! Wemberley! ♪

Hey, mate, any spares? Gi's a ticket
for the cup final! Go on, gi's a ticket!

Ah, go on, mate.
We've come down your way from Liverpool!

Gi's a ticket mate,
we'll be your best mate, mate.

If you're ever in Liverpool,
we'll let you shag our sister.


- Just calm down a second! Calm down.
- Calm down.

- Calm down!
- Calm down!

- Calm down!
- Now, what cup final is this?

- The cup final.
- There's no cup final today!

- Wo'?
- Yer wo'?

It's middle of August. The FA Cup final
was three months ago.

- Oh, yeah?
- He's right, you know.

So, if we're not down in that London
for the cup final,

what are we here for?

- Um...
- I remember!

We came down here to look for work.

- Oh, yeah!
- Ay, mate! Give us a job!

Give us a job, mate!

Oh, sure. I got job for you lads.

You can start by shifting
all that stuff over there.

- Yer wo'?
- Yer wo'?

- Yer wo'?
- Wo'?

I thought you wanted casual labour?

Yeah, we did but we were thinking
of something

a bit more casual than that, like...

You know, like sitting on a wall,
drinking tea, casual.

Oh. It's only a few pipes.
It's not gonna take you more than...

- Aye, that was a close shave that!
- Yeah. Let's try in there!

♪ You can't get better
Than a Kwik-Fit fitter ♪

♪ We're the boys to trust! ♪

[man] Next.

- All right, we're all skint!
- What are we gonna do?


[all] Yes!


[engine approaching]

The bright lights of Soho please, mate.

Soho! The glamour capital of that London!




[indistinct chatter]

Right! That's enough glamour!

- Right! Drink da'!
- An' da'!

An' da'!

Down to my last tenner.

Ten more pints please, mate.

- And for me.
- Eh.

I'll have a Babycham!


Ay, mate, I've just been sick,

What's the matter? Scouse puke
not good enough for you, eh?

You Southern blert!

[music playing]

All right, mate. Give us a beer, lad.

[cash register dings]

- You from, er, out of town, are you?
- Uh, yeah!

I'm from Liverpool, mate.
I'm a Scouser.

Gonna buy the nice lady a drink?


Here's your bill.

All right, lads, give us a kicking.

Eh, Ba'! This looks good!

["Go West" playing]

Eh, this is much more my scene!
A good old working-man's club!

Ay, mate, gi's a beer, will ya?

- Allow me.
- Oh, thanks very much, mate.

- Eh, it's dead friendly in here, isn't it?
- Oh, yes, we're all very friendly in here.

All the other pubs are full of poofs.

- Had a hard day, haven't you?
- Yeah.

These Londoners, you only have to buy
them one drink

and they're on their knees.

- Yes, well, we do our best.
- Um, when you confront someone, you know,

you want them to come on strong
but instead they just go all soft on you.

- Yeah, I know what you mean.
- I mean, call me old-fashioned,

but I like a man to be hard.

You'll find we're all terribly
old-fashioned in here too.


You know what, mate?

I think I'm in for a really good night

So do I.


Isn't that that angry Northern poet?

How exciting! I'll go and have a word.


I think I loved your last play.

- Frightfully gritty.
- You wo'?

We're discussing the human condition.
Would you care to contribute?

Shove it up your arse!



Yes! Brekky!

- What happened to you last night, Ga'?
- Huh!

I went to one of those sex clubs,
and there were three Swedish birds there,

from Holland, right?

As soon as they found out I was a Scouser,
I copped off with the lot of them.

You know, it was a bit of that M&S.

That's why I'm sore all over, you know.

- Oh, you did do that, did you?
- Yes, I did do that though, didn't I?

- That's nothing compared to what I did.
- Oh, yeah?

Yeah. I went to this posh club,
I copped with that Leslie Ash one,

and that Rosemarie-What's-On-The-Board-

All in the same bed together.
In the nuddy!

Oh yeah? You did that then though,
did you, though?

- Yeah, I did do that though, didn't I?
- Oh, yeah?

- Yeah. Yeah.
- Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah?

- Yeah. Yeah.
- Oh, yeah? Eh, Te'!

Why aren't you telling us to calm down,
calm down like...

Have you taken something
you shouldn't have taken?


I don't think he's very well, you know.

Terry's unwell, and we're all skint.
I have no job.

And the footy season starts tomorrow.
Liverpool versus Everton.

At Anfield. [spits]

Only one thing for it, then.

[announcer] The 11:30 coach to Liverpool
will be leaving shortly.

Will all Scousers kindly piss off
back where they come from.

Oi! You're that little runt we chucked out
the club last night, ain't ya?

Go home, piss off home
and don't come back to London.

All right, fellas.

So, you chopped off
with dumb Swedish birds, eh?

Oh yes!

Sure you don't mean you had the crap
beaten out of you by two big blokes?

Oh, well. Same thing, same thing, like.

Anyway, it's better than crap story
you told me about Leslie Ash

and Rosemarie-What's-On-The-Board-

- Barry!
- Oh, Barry!

Oh Barry, please don't go back
to Liverpool.

Oh please, pretty please!

I am sorry, girls.
The footy starts tomorrow.

[Gary] Up the Toffees!

- [Terry] Eh? Eh? Eh?
- [Gary] Wha? Wha? Wha?

[indistinct arguing]

Hello. I won't be here next week,
I'm afraid because I've been struck off.

Incident in the surgery
with a menopausal lady.

Tch, tch, tch.
Don't worry, my place will be taken

by my nice friend,
Dr Jeremy Cuddly-Wuddly.



The show's not over
until the fat bloke sings.

♪ Men of Harlech stand together ♪

♪ Dum dum dum dum... ♪

♪ Da de dah de dah dah ♪

♪ Dah da da da... Wales ♪