Harry Enfield and Chums (1994–1999): Season 2, Episode 3 - Episode #2.3 - full transcript

[theme music playing]

[applause]

Now, those of you who've done
your homework

will realise that Charlotte was the eldest
of the Brontë sisters,

born in 1816-- Oops.

Eighteen sixteen-- Oops.

Oops.

Oops.

[Mr Paterson] Kevin. Kevin!

Evening, Kevin. How was school?

Yeah, really brilliant, actually.



[narrator] Look at this motor car.
A beauty, isn't it?

It's got 20 years' happy motoring
ahead of it. Or has it?

Here comes a woman.

Which side's she getting in?

The driver's side. Oh, dear,
the wrong side.

Gosh. What lovely comfy seats.

[narrator] Yes, but this isn't
a drawing room, my dear.

It's a complicated motor vehicle,

based on the principles
of the internal combustion engine,

a machine far too complicated for you
to understand.

But I know about embroidery and kittens,
won't that suffice?

Oh, blow it! I'm going to have a try.

[engine starts]

[engine revs]



[narrator] See? Now, look
what you've done.

Your pretty little mind simply can't cope
with a motor car.

Women for pity's sake don't drive.

[doorbell rings]

Right, let's get them in,
get it over with.

All right, Frank, where is she?

- Where's the birthday girl?
- All right, Ange. Happy birthday.

- Happy birthday, sis.
- Thanks.

Oh, it's looking very nice, Frank, sport,
the hovel.

Thank you, Stanley.

Not very big though, is it?
I always forget how small it is.

Well, it's big enough for us.

Oh, big enough for you perhaps, Ange.
But not your sister, eh, Pammy?

Oh, no, I could no longer consider
habitating a dwelling

of such paltry proportions.

Just look at you two. Both peas
from the same pod,

- yet one a picture of sophistication,
- [Pammy squeaks]

and t'other an 'umble pauper.

- Oh, Stanley.
- It's true!

Oh, you've done considerably better
in marriage than your sister, Pammy.

No offence, Frank. Oh, yes,
we are considerably richer than you!

- Well, thank you for pointing that out.
- It's a pleasure, sport.

Would anyone like a drink?

- Celebrate Angie's birthday.
- Oh, that'd be nice. Stanley.

- Here's some glug. Champagne, vintage.
- Thank you.

So, you don't try and give us any
of that sparkling wine muck

you gave us last year.

Oh, I was so sick as a dog all
over the Roller, wasn't I, Stanley?

- Oh, here you go, then.
- Ooh.

- Happy birthday, Sis.
- Thanks.

Bums up, one and all!

- So, what did Frank get you, Ange?
- He got me a lovely dress.

Is that all? For her birthday, I got her
a yacht.

Costs a bit more than a soppy dress,
Frank, sport.

But then, we are considerably richer
than you.

Now Stanley, I'm sure
it's a very nice little frock.

Oops! You're right, Pammy.

Sorry, Frank. There I go again,
making you feel awful

about how badly you've done
in life compared to me.

Don't you just love him?

Here, Pammy, give Ange her present
from us.

- Here you go, Sis.
- Thanks.

Look at that, eh.
A cheque for five grand for you!

It's not for me, it's made out
to a Dr R Philpott.

That's right! The best plastic surgeon
in the country.

So, you can have a face uplift,
and a bum uplift

- and a titty uplift, just like me.
- Jesus Christ!

Thank you but I don't need it!

Yes, you do!

I mean, look at Pammy,

- perky as a Pekinese.
- [pants]

[Stanley] And look at you,

saggy as a sack of spuds with a bum
like a burst bag of broad beans.

[sobs]

Get out, now!

- What's the matter with you, sport?
- Just leave.

- What's happening, Stanley?
- The man has gone mad, Pammy.

That's gratitude for you?

You try and salvage a man's wife's titties
and he throws them back in your face.

- Out!
- I feel sorry for you, Ange.

[Pammy] Come on, Stanley.

You just can't keep your jealousy
under control, can you, Frank?

You just can't bear not being me.

Me being considerably richer than you!

Four games, now, and four goals.

It's not so much bringing coals
to Newcastle

as bringing goals to Newcastle.

Carry on like this, you'll soon be doing
Arthur Scargill out of a job.

[speaking Spanish]

Mixing your metaphors there,
little bit, Tony.

Julio Geordio, footballer and smart arse.
Barry.

[all belching]

Yes. This is the life, eh?

- Eh?
- Eh?

- Eh?
- Do you want to fight or something?

- Eh, Eh!
- Eh, Eh!

- Eh!
- Eh, eh! Calm down, eh?

- We're on a fight break, remember?
- You what?

Garry's right, eh. No fighting
for two hours. It's in the rule book!

- Oh, this is ridiculous!
- Hey!

We've only got 40 minutes left to wait,

and then we've got an organised massacre
of the Mancunians.

[hawking]

- What about the Spaniards?
- What about the Spaniards?

Well, you know we are in Spain. I mean,
this is their country.

I mean, it's insulting not to give them
a good kicking too, isn't it?

- So, do you love Spaniards, like?
- I love fighting them, yeah!

- Are you a homo?
- You wha'?

- You heard! Wha'! Wha'!
- Wha'! Wha'!

Eh! Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh!

It's all right.

We, eh, smash up the Spaniards
first thing tomorrow morning.

[all] Pleasant!

Hey, look! There's an ugly bird!

All right, ugly bird, gizza shag!

I didn't fancy her, anyway,
you bleedin' lesbo.

[snickers]

Ah, I love Spain, me.
It's great, isn't it?

Spain's great, isn't it? Spain.
I love Spain. Me, is great.

- I love Sp--
- Eh!

You know, you don't have
to go to Spain, now.

Nowadays, we're allowed to France as well.

There's this town and it sounds
just our sort of place.

- Oh, yeah? And what's it called, like?
- Cannes!

You know, there's a place near Cannes
that sounds nice.

- [Garry] And what's that, then?
- Nice.

[all belching]

Hey, how many bevvies have we had
so far today?

- Fifteen.
- Right, that's enough for now.

I'm gonna pace myself. Let's go
and get some brekky!

- Hey! Are you following me?
- And what if I am?

- Hey! I'm following him!
- Nobody follows me!

- Oh, yeah? Yeah--
- Yeah!

Eh, eh, eh, eh!

Hello, it's me,
Captain Stefan Van der Haas Gracht

of the Amsterdam Police, yet again,
with my partner

and also, I'm happy to say, my lover,
Ronald. Say hello, Ronald.

Today, we are called out

to the Prince Ranzenhofer Van der Star
Van de Beek Memorial Park.

There is some trouble
because many people from the gay community

are coming down there
and openly making love with no clothes on,

and some old people, who are using
the park

for walking their dogs, are complaining.

Um, obviously, here in Amsterdam,
we can't tolerate this kind of behaviour

from the old people.

So, we'll explain to them
how beautiful the love can be

between two people of the same sex.

And we are encouraging the old people

to form a semicircle round
the gay lovemakers.

And then, they are clapping along,

and we are all having
an uplifting experience.

Evening, all.

So, I would say,
Kevin is a very intelligent boy

with a natural talent for the subject.

Unfortunately, at the moment,
he's not fulfilling his potential,

and he really needs
to turn over a new leaf

and... get that home workin' on time.

- Is that fair, Kevin?
- Yes.

- Well, thanks, Mr Banks.
- Yes, thank you.

Nice to see you.

He hates me, absolutely hates me!

Hello, June, David, Perry. How's it going?

Hello, Mr Paterson, Mrs Paterson.
All right, Kev? Respect to ya, bloodclart.

It's going really, really well,
brilliantly. Now, all things considering.

- [sobs]
- Come, Mum, come, Dad, maths,

which might not be very good.
But then, media studies,

which might not be too dreadful. Yippee!

- Who's next?
- Right, um, Ms Baxter.

[grunts]

Hello, Kevin. Mr and Mrs Paterson.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Do sit down.
- Thanks.

Kevin? Are you going to join us, Kevin?

- Kevin.
- [grunts]

Well, thank you for coming tonight.

We've had a bit of a funny term,
haven't we, Kevin?

Sometimes he's as very attentive
and bright as a button,

and at other times, he seems to be lost
in a world of his own. Don't you, Kevin?

Why do you think that is, Kevin? Kevin?

Sorry.

I tried making him sit at the front
of the class to see if that would help,

but if anything,
his concentration got worse.

Sorry.

Are you all right, Kevin?

Hmm.

Well, this is what he's often like
in class.

But as I say, he's very good at English
when he's with us, but, uh...

Is there any chance of you
giving him extra tuition after school?

Oh, yes, please.

Oh, no, I'm sorry. I'm afraid my timetable
is completely full.

[exhales]

[Ms Baxter] But, in general,
some very good pieces

of work when he concentrates.

And I really think you should turn over
a new leaf

and get that home workin' on time.
Now, is that fair, Kevin?

Sorry.

- Well, nice to see you.
- And you, Ms Baxter. Thank you.

Mr Paterson?

Oh, uh, yeah...

Yes, yes. Thank you. Well done.
Well done, Kevin. Well done.

[clopping]

Hello.

Oh, hello, it's you, isn't it?
Do you remember me from Chepstow?

- Shut up!
- Sorry?

I must say, you really are putting us all
to shame. Look at you thundering along.

[shivers] Brr.
It's a bit nippy today, innit?

And I saw the weather forecast last night,
they said it was-- Ooh, ooh.

[thud]

See that? I fell off my horse.

It's so embarrassing.

- Bumped my bottom.
- Shut up, Roger, it can happen to anyone.

Oh, I'll never hear the end of this now.

Here they come now, to give me a ribbing.
I'll see you later, yeah.

Can't catch me!

[man 1 and man 2]
♪ She fell off her horse ♪

[both] ♪ She fell off her horse ♪

[both] ♪ She fell off her horse ♪

[both] ♪ She fell off her horse ♪

[both] ♪ She fell off her horse ♪

[clearing throat]

[snorts]

Conference, ladies and gentlemen,

and Tarzan.

That's you, Mr Heseltine.

Do you want your house
to be compulsorily purchased

and turned into
an Indian Women's Hopscotch Collective?

That's what Gordon Brown wants.

[applause]

And conference, do you want to look out
of your bedroom window one morning

to find that your car's been taken away
by a stranger?

It's not been stolen. Oh, no.

It's been given away by Brussels
to a Spanish fisherman.

That's what Tony Blair wants.

[slurps]

Colleagues, I'm 13 now,

but I still remember many years ago,
when I was eleven and a half,

my old dad gave me
a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger,

a white Power Ranger, and I love it.

But it's not my favourite Power Ranger.
Oh, no.

My favourite Power Ranger is
in this very conference hall!

Mighty Morphin Power Major!

[laughter]

[thump]

[bawling]

Oh, dear, what's the matter? Oh, there,
there.

- Poor Lulu.
- [woman] Yes, poor Lulu.

- What happened?
- Fell over.

You'll be all right, now.

[scotch tape tearing]

[tape tearing]

Harry? What the hell are you doing?

You naughty boy. You must never,
ever do that. Poor Lulu.

[moans]

[moaning] Poor Harry.

No, Harry, that won't do.
You're a very bad boy.

You stay there until you're sorry.
Come on, Lulu.

[Harry sobbing]

[bawling]

Mum! We too late.

Mum, we too late.

My name is Michael Paine
and I am a nosy neighbour.

Now, the young lady in the end house
with the nice legs and the sunbed tan

come back from Texas Homecare,
the other day

with two tins of Eggshell paint.

Both of the five-litre variety.

Within two days, she had transformed
her room from a dark Salmon Pink

into a beautiful Oak Funnel.

You know the one. It's one tone lighter
than Misty Buff.

Only one tone, mind.

She has used Mint Sunrise in the bathroom,

and a beautiful Warmly Red in the hall.

Which complements superbly
the elegant Ratatouille gloss work.

I would give my eyeteeth to see her
in the shower.

- I remember this awful time--
- Uh, which one?

I'm just about to say if you'll let me.

Thank you.

Sorry about my wife.

This time, we went
to Luigiano's in Guildford.

- This little Italian bistro--
- Oh, God, no.

I was wearing these very expensive
brand new pair of trousers.

- Cost an absolute fortune.
- This old story.

And she'd already sat down,

- and I had to squeeze past this table.
- Oh, please...

And I remember there was
this very pretty girl sitting there,

very pretty.

And as I squeeze past, I caught the seat
of my trousers on something sharp.

- No. No, no.
- A protruding nail or something.

Without knowing it, the whole seat
of my trousers ripped clean away...

- No, it didn't.
- ...exposing my unterband clad behind

- to the entire restaurant.
- No, it wasn't.

And worst of all, the person nearest
the offending article

- was this pretty girl.
- [Jill] No.

- This very, very pretty girl.
- No, no. That didn't happen at all.

- Thank you, Jill.
- Well, I was there

and I've had heard this story
400 times before,

and each time, it gets more exaggerated
and less funny.

All that happened was that he got a slight
tear in an old pair of trousers. [scoffs]

- A slight tear.
- Yes, about an inch long.

I should know because I had to sew it up.
[scoffs]

Well, still, jolly funny, um...

I sew up his trousers
and I wash his filthy underpants.

Where are you going for your holiday,
this year?

Majorca, Judith, same as last year.

Yes, Stevin's booked us two weeks
in July there without bothering to ask me.

- I thought you liked it.
- Yes, I do. It's a lovely hotel

and it's full of ghastly people
that Steven likes to play golf with.

Jill didn't like their wives
because they were young.

Oh, jolly nice, anyway.

Why don't you come too?
There are still rooms available.

Oh, we've actually already booked
our holiday.

[Jill] Where are you going?

- Crete.
- Ibiza.

- Ibiza.
- Crete.

Well, away. Not Majorca.

Unfortunately.

It's a really nice dress, you've got on,
Judith.

Really lovely, really, really suits you.

Well, thank you, Steven.

I saw Jill's one and asked her

- where she got it.
- Uh.

You must have noticed me wearing
my one, Steven. Exactly the same!

Hmm, I have. It's a lovely dress,
really lovely... on her!

- So, would you be prepared to do it?
- I would.

If the phone went and a voice said,
"Frank, 'arrison 'ere.

McCartney, Starkey and I are thinking
of forming the old group up again.

We need a replacement for Lennon
who's dead.

We'd be deeply honoured
if you'd consider it."

I'd sleep on it, ring 'em back the next
day and not disappoint 'em. [scoffs]

So, they'd be over the moon,
wouldn't they, Frank?

Shut up. Oh, yes.

I'd look forward to going down
the Abbey Road Studios,

recording new Doberman
and McCartney songs.

You know what? I pretty much look forward
to hear them myself, as it goes Frank.

Will you shut up!

And if I'm showing them the key change
to my latest composition,

McCartney's looking on in awe,
he knows I'm onto something very special,

Harrison's just about getting the hang
of it,

Starkey, of course, is in a world
of his own.

And then suddenly, I'm getting all this
in me lughole.

I look round and there it is!

"Vely good, Flank.
But what about tlying it in E frat?"

I should say, "Oi! Oh, no! No!

Oh, no, oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!
Oh, no!

Oh no, no!"

[Marcus] Just bloody jump,
will you, Timbo?

[Timbo] No, Marcus, don't push No!

Gerooo....

nimo! [snorts]

[Timbo laughing and snorting]

Geroo...

nimo!

[laughing and snorting]

Other Indian chappies!

Pocahontas!

Mahatma Gandhi!

Er, seems to be a bit of a hitch.

Ah! Foot's got stuck in rope.

Hello, trusty Swiss army knife.

- Ah! That's better!
- [thud]

[announcer] Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
Please start up Guinevere.

And the bonus ball is six.

We've won 180 million pounds
on the lottery!

- [blows a raspberry]
- We're not touching a penny...

until we have consulted
the self-financial adviser from Win-a-lot.

With a high yield--

Right, that's him consulted. Let's go
and spend, spend, spend, spend.

Jeeves, I am not smoking a fag.

Sorry, madam.

Oh, and throw the rest away,
would you, Jeeves? What, what, what, what.

- And, Jeeves, what, what, what.
- Sir.

Change the channel to Sky 1, will you?

The remote is here but I cannot be arsed
to do it myself.

Very good, sir.

Oh, and Jeeves, order me
another four pizzas,

will you? What, what, what, what.

- Four pizzas to go, Mario.
- Be with you pronto, Mr Jeeves.

- [grunts]
- Thank you, Mario.

- Keep the change.
- Thank you, Mr Wayne.

[wheezing]

[phone rings]

Brown Towers.

Telephone call for you, madam.

Thank you, Jeeves. I shall take it
on the bog.

Hello. Waynetta Slob, lottery winner here.

Oh, travel agent.

Oh, wonderful news. Yes, what-ho!
Tatty-bye!

- Wayne, dearest.
- What, what, what, what, what?

Our exclusive round-the-world holiday
has been arranged.

We depart for South America
on this very night.

Jeeves, pack my bags and wipe my bum.

Very good, madam.

- We're going first class.
- Let's go and move.

[belches]
What, what's that?

Hey, what you've done
with your Chanel bag?

It's not Cha-nel, it's Chan-el,
you common twat!

[chomping and gurgling]

- Even more grub!
- And for me!

[engine revs]

What is going on? The front of the plane
has become enormously heavy.

It's the slobs here in row two.

Excuse me, would you two fat masses
mind moving

to the middle of the plane, immediately?

But we are first class, what, what, what.

You're too fat. If you don't move,
the plane will crash.

- Oh.
- Up, up!

[man] Ow, ow, ow!

- [thud]
- [man] Ow!

[bids chirping]

[mosquito buzzes]

[belches]

Well, that's the pilot finished off.

Oh, Wayne. What are we going
to eat, now? I'm starving.

So am I.

[applause]

[speaking Spanish]

A bit nippy tonight, like.

Indeed. Barry.

[music playing in the stadium]

[speaking Spanish]

Nice little bit of kit, ey, Tone?
What do you reckon, like?

It's very nice, Julio. Barry.

- [speaking Spanish]
- Uh, really?

Barry.

[speaking Spanish]

Maybe watch the X Files tonight, like.

I've never seen it myself, but
they tell me it's very good. Barry.

[speaking Spanish]

Can I go now, like?

You just wait for the clear, please,
Julio.

Oh, there it is.
Sorry about that everyone. That's a wrap.

Thanks for your patience, Julio.

[both speaking Spanish]