Harry Enfield and Chums (1994–1999): Season 2, Episode 4 - Episode #2.4 - full transcript

[theme music playing]

Hello, little girl.
Doing a bit of skipping, are you?

[chuckles] Here, here! Here!
Excuse me? Yes.

Do you know the way
to the nearest public bog?

- Over there.
- [old man] Right, thank you very...

Carry on skipping.

[both laughing]

You can't, can you?

[laughs]

- It was me!
- He cut it! Yes! Yes!

[girl sobs]



Morning, darling.

[slurs] Good morning, Mu...

Morning, Kevin.

- Morning, dad.
- Would you like a cup of tea?

No, thank you, Mu...

[sighs]

Feeling all right, Kevin?

Not very well, Dad.

Are you sure you're well enough
to go to school?

I guess I'll be all right.

- Hmm. You haven't got a temperature.
- If he says he'll be all right,

he'll be all right.
Good for you, Kevin! Go into school.

If you still don't feel well after maths,
then come home.

What?



Maths is your first lesson today,
isn't it?

- I don't know.
- Yes.

It is. Your mother checked
with the school.

You see, we wondered why it seemed to be
every Thursday you were terribly ill,

and apparently, Thursday's
maths-homework-handing-in day,

and you haven't handed in yours
for four weeks.

What?

Mr. Matthews said you had to catch up
by today, darling.

- Have you done it?
- Course I've bloody done it!

I wanna go to school!
God, what's your bloody problem?

[coughing]

[sighs]

Oh, dear. He obviously is ill.
Perhaps he'd better stay off school.

I think at least four days in bed,
don't you?

Oh, dear. He will be disappointed.

He was looking forward to a party
on Friday night.

And on Saturday, he and Perry were going
to a concert with a couple of girls.

Out of the question!
He's far too ill for any of that!

Oh, Kevin! You've forgotten your bag!

Don't forget that Kevin.
It's got your completed homework in it.

You are not my parents!
I was adopted at birth!

I hate you!

[breathes heavily]

Workshy! Scroungers! Layabouts!

You've priced yourself out of jobs,
and have only yourselves to blame!

Vote Conservative!

I shall have my Milky Bar now,
please, Mother!

[doorbell rings]

Hello, Frank.

Angie, look who it is.

- Sis. Stanley.
- Hello, sis.

We heard about you losing your job, Frank.

And we thought you might need
your family to rally round.

- Kind of you.
- It is.

I know our last visit was not much
of a success,

but we forgive you
for treating us so disgracefully.

We understand your rage and jealousy
at us being considerably richer than you.

It's hard when your own family are much,
much more successful than you are.

And we'll say no more about it.

I forgive you.

That's very decent of you.

Now is the time you need our support.

- So why did they sack you, Frank?
- They didn't sack me.

Said it's got so competitive,
they had to lay off 20 of us.

Cut out all the rotten old dead wood,
eh, Frankie boy?

Stanley's laid off half his workforce.

Oh, I have. And my profits have soared!

Mind you, she spends most of them
on pointless and frivolous items!

- Oh, isn't he lovely?
- Pammy, I must pick you up there my love.

We're not here to talk about how rich
and lovely I am.

We're here to commiserate
with your broken-spirited,

unemployed, worthless relatives.

Thank you, Stanley. Poor me!

Poor you. Rich me!

We're richer than you!

- Yes, you are.
- Yes, we are!

But anything we can do to help,

other than giving you money of course,
we don't believe in charity.

Well, that's all right then,
because we don't want your money, anyway!

Oh, you do, my love,
but you can't have it!

Anyway, we can't stay.

We just popped round to say
we won't be popping around for a bit,

because, you know, we can't be seen
to be mixing with the unemployable.

Well, I'm sure we'll rub along
just fine without you.

You'll rub along sure, sport.

Like a diseased rat rubs along in a sewer.

Good-bye!

And remember, sonny Jim,
however down you get,

always take comfort
and joy from the thought

that we are considerably,
considerably richer than thou.

Oh, eight, nine, eight,

nine, nine, nine,

nine, nine...

- nine.
- [ringing tone]

[woman in breathy voice] Hello.

Hello.

It's strict restaurant manager here.

Oh! I've been a naughty girl.

I've spilled spaghetti all over the floor,

and you have forced me
to bend over and lick it up.

Ooh!

And now what are you going to do
to me, young man?

- Yoghurt.
- Oh, young man!

I mean, "naughty sir."

Oh!

[moaning]

[moaning louder]

Oh, young man!

[man] Oh, bloody fantastic!

So when you said left,
you didn't mean the normal left,

the left that people normally mean
when they say left,

the left that's actually on the left,

you meant the left
that only you know about,

which is, quite uniquely, on the right.

You've never made me come.

[man over radio] Tonight's wireless
with pictures is as follows.

At 8:30, Greenwich Mean Time,
you may wish to enjoy

the humorous situational comedy,
Men Behaving Splendidly.

At nine o'clock Greenwich Mean Time,
Have I Got Pathé News for You?

`And your question, William Deeds,
can you identify this gentleman?

And do you have a satirical comment
about his recent behaviour?

I believe it is the Prime Minister.

And I believe him to be
the most respectable of gentleman.

And my satirical comment is,
I'm sure in his long life,

he's made one or two decisions,
about which he's had second thoughts.

And the scores are,

a splendidly pleasant four for them,
and a stinkingly foul three for them.

[news reporter] At 9:30
Greenwich Mean Time, East-End Folk.

[blows raspberry] I'll have a pint
of jellied eels, please, barman.

- The jellied eels is off.
- Bloomin' Ada!

[news reporter] At ten o'clock,
Greenwich Mean Time,

Thank Goodness It's Friday,
with the ginger geek.

And, oh! I'm the ginger geek.

I don't give a fig for the conventions
of television.

And I'm going to say to you,
Lady Emmalene Tompkins,

I'd very much care to fuddle-duddle
with your wibbly-wobblies.

Young man!

Oh, young man!

Have it with chips or only on its tod,
you know what I'm talking about,

a nice bit of haddock.
Oh, no, I meant cod!

Halibut, chub, a nice bit of mullet,

don't forget to fillet it so the bones
don't get stuck in your gullet!

I'll tell you what, Lee,

I reckon I'm the victim
of sex discrimination in the workplace.

You're a victim
of a cruel sexual experiment

by your mum and dad more like, wanker!

See, see! You wouldn't say that to me
if I was a bird.

- That's sex discrimination.
- Lance.

I don't treat you the way I do
'cause you're a bloke,

it's because you're thick.

Oh, yeah, but if I was a thick bird,

you'd be nice to me,
because you'd wanna shag me.

That's true, actually, yeah.
I love thick birds.

Mind you, I wouldn't wanna
shag her if she had a boat like yours,

no matter how lovely and thick she was.

Well, you shagged my sister.

Oh, my God, I did, didn't I?

[groans]

Anyway, why'd you have to bring that up?
What about it?

You'd just better watch it, Lee,

because I could take you to court,
couldn't I? In European court.

Oh, yeah? And if you did that,
do you know what would happen?

They'd measure your brain cells
against the European thick standard.

They'd go, "Z ut alors!
This bloke is really thick!

We better give Lee
a Thick Person's Employment Grant."

Is that what you want?
'Cause it's what'll happen!

It's not just that I'm thick, is it?
I've also been passed over for promotion.

What?

Yeah, I thought it might be nice
if I was the boss.

Look, me boss, you wanker.

This is my business. I put up the capital.

[laughs]

You never put up the capital!

People was building London
long before you was born!

Can I be the boss, then?

- All right, be the boss!
- All right.

Can I have my old job back now, please?

I didn't like being the boss,
the pressure was getting to me, you know.

- I was just flexing my industrial muscle.
- [groans]

Are you all right?

Your sister, Lance!

I mean, I've gotta go and have a bath.
I'll see you later, yeah?

She's grown so much.

Her latest thing is Oasis.
She loves them.

Do look at this.

["Roll With It" by Oasis playing]

And me! Me dance!

[mother] Calm down, Harry.
You're being rough.

No, me dance too!

- Okay, Harry, let Lulu dance by herself.
- No! Me dance!

[groans]

Oh, Harry! Why do you always
have to go too far!

[Lulu crying]

[wailing]

Tim Nice-But-Dim. How do you do?

Hello! Dick Nice-But-Thick.

Hi! Uh...

Sorry, what did you say your name was?

- Dick Nice-But-Thick.
- Oh! Right.

- Sorry, what was yours?
- What?

Your name. Forgotten it.

Ah, right! Tim Nice-But-Dim, Dave.

- Dick!
- No, Tim.

No, no, no, no! I'm Dick.

- Right!
- Dick Nice-But-Thick.

Right, right! [snorts]

[both chuckle]

I'm terrible with names.

Sorry, what was your name again, I forgot?

Oh, no, don't worry.
I'm always doing it myself, actually.

Dick Nice-But-Thick.

- Right!
- And...

And you are?

I'm Tim. Tim Nice-But-Dim.

- Oh! Of course you are!
- [both laugh]

[both continue laughing]

- Jolly nice to meet you, Tony.
- And you, Tony. Cheerio!

Ta-ra for now!

What a thoroughly bloody nice bloke.

- Evening, sir.
- Good evening, darling.

[sighs] Sorry I'm late.

What the hell do you think you're doing?
This is a police station!

[laughs] Oh, I get you!

You get yourself something pretty,
and I'll get my tea, eh?

Now look, I'll give you one last chance--

- There you go, Sarge.
- There we go! That's more like it!

Everybody's happy.

Listen, chum, time to go.

Oh, you're right, love! I was supposed
to be with the lads in the pub now.

[clears throat] Don't wait up.
I'll ring if I'm gonna be late.

[phones ringing]

- Right.
- Hold up!

What's today?

- Wednesday.
- Exactly!

- Fancy an early night, darling?
- I don't think so!

[laughs]

I getcha! I getcha!

All right, lover!

- Oh, you, you're gagging for it!
- [officer] Sarge!

My name is Michael Payne,
and I am a nosy neighbour.

Oh, yes.

I recently acquired
a new pair of binoculars...

which have enabled me to see
into number 81...

a house previously beyond my field
of vision.

It was a good thing that I did,

'cause the old lady who lives there
had a nasty accident

in which she fell and cracked
her head off the marble fireplace.

Do you know
I was able to observe her

lying there unattended on the floor
for three days

before anyone came to her aid?

Sometimes I despair of the human race.
I really do.

[German accent] This queue, I think,
is moving faster than this one. Yes?

- Yes, probably.
- [chuckles] Yes.

But I am thinking,
if we are joining this queue,

it is suddenly grinding to a halt,

and this queue is proceeding
immediately very fast.

Zoom! Like James Bond.
[chuckles]

It is the law of the sod.

Yes.

- I am German.
- Oh, right.

I hope you do not find this sickening.

Why should I?

You are too kind and modestly understated,
like your Hugh Grant and Elizabeth Hurley,

and many other English geniuses.

Well...

- I am named Jürgen.
- Oh, like Klinsmann!

I feel I must apologise
for the behaviour of Herr Klinsmann.

How dare he come to your country,
the country that is inventing football,

and humiliate you with his flashes
of genius and lethal finishings?

I feel I must apologize
for the conduct of my nation in the war.

The only way we can make amends
is by hunting down animals

like Klinsmann and putting them on trial
for their crimes! Am I not correct?

- Am I not correct?
- Look, I'm sorry...

Answer me, Englander! Answer me!

You will answer!

Resistance is useless,
Schweinhund! Answer me!

- Stanley, we've got visitors!
- [Stanley] Who is it, Pammy?

[Pammy] I don't know.

- Who do we know with a newer Merc than us?
- No one.

[Pammy] I don't believe it!
It's Frank and my sis!

Is this some kind of sick joke?

[doorbell chimes]

[Angie] Hello, sis!

- Hello, Stan.
- The car!

- Don't worry! I didn't nick it.
- Frank paid cash.

[Frank] Newer than yours, innit?

Frank's won the National Lottery!

- How much?
- Thirteen million quid!

[Angie] So what does that make us, Frank?

Ange, that makes us
considerably richer than you!

- Get outta my house, you vermin!
- [Pammy] Stanley!

Go on! Go! You slimy turds!

Call yourself sophisticated?
You dirty farts!

- Stanley...
- You'll never be accepted

- in polite society...
- Stanley!

- ...you bum-holes!
- Remember your heart, Stanley!

- Come here! I'll kill you!
- [Pammy] Stanley!

You'll never develop fancy ways,
you dollop of dog snot!

I hate you!

Hello, there! It's me,
Captain Stefan Van der Haas Gracht,

of the Amsterdam Police again,
with my partner,

and also, I'm very happy to say,
my lover, Ronald,

who I'm afraid is not speaking to me
at the moment.

We have had a lovers' disagreement.

Ron thinks that cocaine is best.
I like heroin.

This morning, we are on security duty,

because it is the official birthday
celebrations of our Queen Beatrix.

After this, we are going to make
some porn films. Evening, all.

Ronald, if I told you one time,
I told you six times

- that living with me would not be easy!
- I'm not listening.

♪ He lives in a box
He looks like a corpse ♪

♪ He's dead, of course! ♪

[audience applauding]

Why, Mary, I'm your husband,
and this is our wedding night.

You gotta come to bed!

Oh, no, Billy Joe!

You told me you didn't have no skeletons
in the cupboard,

and now I found out you have!

[audience cheering and applauding]

[Mister Dead] Always the bridesmaid,
never the bride! Ha!

[audience laughing and applauding]

♪ He's dead, of course! ♪

Absolve yourself of your sins,
my son,

so that the Lord can look down
and forgive you.

[Big Bob] Good morning.
I'm interested in a 2.3 16-valve cabriolet

with alloy wheels
and leather upholstery.

Any chance of a test drive?

I think you're mistaken, my son.
This is a confessional.

Oh, I getcha!

[Big Bob chuckles]

Where's your maths homework, Tory Boy?

It's not a question
of where it is. Oh, no.

It's a question of what was it,

and was it
of a sufficiently high standard

to meet the requirements
of the National Curriculum?

[slams books] I said,
where's your homework?

And I am saying to you,
are you meeting your requirements,

the requirements
set out quite clearly--

Answer the question.
Where's your homework?

You answer my question!

Tory Boy, shut up
and give me your homework!

I am denied the right to free speech!

- All right. Get out.
- And sent into exile!

But you can't send me to a labour camp,

because we don't live in your Soviet,
socialist, New Labour utopia!

We live in Britain! A free Britain!

A Conservative Britain!

- [alarm clocks beeping and buzzing]
- Kevin!

Morning, Kevin!

- Kevin!
- [alarm clocks stop]

[shouting] Good morning, Kevin!

Good morning, Kevin!

- Huh?
- Time to get up!

- Huh? What time is it?
- Nine o'clock.

What? It's Sunday!

Yes, but if you want to clean the car,
you need to get up now.

I want it done by 10:30, okay?

God!

If you want the five pounds,
you need to get up now!

Okay!

I'll just do this to help you
not to go back to sleep.

["Going for Gold" by Shed Seven blaring]

See you downstairs in a minute, Kev.

♪ Time and time and time again ♪

- Ten!
- I beg your pardon?

- Ten pounds!
- Don't be silly, Kevin.

Five pounds we agreed,
and five pounds it is!

- That is so unfair!
- Take it or leave it.

- All right!
- All the stuff you need is over there

Mum and I are going for a walk.
We'll be about half an hour,

so you'll have done the car by then,
won't you?

- [loudly] Won't you?
- [screaming] Okay!

- Oh, look. He hasn't even started it!
- [groans] God!

But you told him
he had to finish it by now!

Never mind.
I'm determined to make him do it.

[door opens]

- Kevin! What are you doing?
- All right!

I know, I know! For God's sake!

- [Dad] How's he getting on?
- Well, I don't think he's started yet.

He's sitting by the car, having a look.

Kevin?

- He's not there!
- Oh, no!

Has he gone to the shops or something?

Kevin!

The car!

[huffs]

He's started!

[windows whirring]

[loud garage music plays]

[Kevin moaning]

[in strangled voice]
I'm going to cut your liver out

and stuff it in your face!

Oh!

Oh, it's not too bad, is it?

[Dad] Pretty good, really.

Kevin?

- Pull him out.
- Come on.

- Get him under the arms.
- Oh, I'd rather not.

- It's either the armpits or the feet.
- Well done, Kevin.

- You should be proud of yourself.
- Yes. Not a bad job, son.

- You've achieved something in life.
- Oh, God, he's heavy!

[theme music playing]

All right, Lee? How's my brother?

Oh, hello, little sister.

Uh, yeah, he's fine. How are you?

A bit bored, as it goes.
Do you fancy a shag?

Um... No thanks. Not again.

I mean, I'd love to, but, you know,
I might remember in the morning.

- Sorry.
- It's all right. See you then, Lee.

Oh, bollocks! Live for the moment.
Hang on, little sister, I'm coming!