My Family (2000–2011): Season 2, Episode 6 - Driving Miss Crazy - full transcript

Very good. Very good, Mr Ross.

You're doing very well.

Oh, my... Is that supposed to happen?

- Uh...
- Everything's fine, Mr Ross.

Is it supposed
to be bleeding that much?

It's like Reservoir Dogs
where the guy gets his ear cut off.

Excuse me, Mr Ross.
Give me a cotton pack, please.

Now stick it in your mouth.

Sorry, Mr Harper. It's just I get queasy.

Then why did the agency send you?

- They tricked me.
- You and me both.



- Now give me a hand.
- Can I just stand by the door?

I need you here to assist me.

Can I close my eyes?

Pass me the scaler.

Oh, for God's sake!

Sorry.

You go ahead.

I'll be fine.

You're fired.

- What's this one mean?
- Junction on bend ahead.

- Good.
- As far as it goes.

- This one?
- Maximum speed, 30 miles an hour.

- Correct.
- If there's nobody looking.

Shut up, Nick.



Driving in the real world

is nothing like passing your test.

- I haven't passed my test yet.
- Yeah.

But driving schools tell you
to keep two hands on the wheel.

I mean, what are they thinking of?

What if you've a phone in one hand
and a kebab in the other?

- How about this one?
- No right turn.

- Unless you really need to.
- Nick!

- Or you're in a hurry.
- What does this sign mean?

Road narrows on both sides?

Going well, I see.

My instructor says I need more practice.

- He would, at 20 quid a lesson.
- Do you want me to fail?

You just need an adult with you.

- Ready when you are.
- I said an adult.

But I can't take you.
I have three new tours to devise.

- Just choose the right moment.
- (Ben) Oh, bollocking hell!

- Which will happen one day.
- Keep the dream alive. Let's go, Mike.

Next door's sodding dog has crapped
on the sodding doorstep again!

Oh, dear. At least you didn't step in it.

- I'll get you the newspaper.
- Why can't they control it?

Mr Casey wouldn't like it
if I let Nick crap on his lawn.

I'll do it for cash.

I'll bear that in mind.

Whatever possessed
Mr Casey to get a dog?

Yapping all day
when it's left alone in the house,

breaking through my fence,
digging up my lawn.

And he looks at me funny
whenever I go past.

- All dogs do that.
- I meant Mr Casey.

- He never used to be like this.
- Don't be too harsh.

His wife died recently.
He's still getting over it.

How long does it take?
It's been six weeks.

I can't sit here wasting my time all day.

Oh, really? Considering
a change of career, are we?

I already have, mate. Efficiency expert.

- Isn't that my surgery T-shirt?
- That's right.

Why are you wearing my surgery T-shirt?

This is asset management.
It's losing value while not in use.

(Doorbell)

I don't want you sweating it up
with freakish bodily fluids.

- Take it off.
- Tell me when you need it.

(Susan) Oh, hello, Mr Casey.

- Have you got a moment?
- Do come in.

Ben, it's Mr Casey.

Hello, Mr Casey.
What brings you round this evening?

Dog not quite empty yet?

I'm sorry?

- Would you like a drink?
- No. I'm not stopping.

So, er... How is everything since,
erm... everything?

Since Emma died?
Oh, everyone's been very kind.

It was a bit rough but then I thought,

"Why not buy a dog?"

Several reasons,
the first of which is on my doorstep.

Ben. I think it's a wonderful idea.

It's nice to have
a companion who doesn't talk.

I know people say I'm looking
for a substitute for Emma.

- But that's people for you.
- She's lovely. What's her name?

Gemma.

Ah. Who's a lovely girl, hm?

Who gives me lots of lovely kisses?

So you said you weren't stopping.

Ah, yes. I'm afraid that Gemma's
been coming into your garden.

Oh, it's nothing.

If Mr Casey wants to apologise, let him.

- I'm not going to apologise.
- Oh, really?

Really!

Your dog's been crapping up my garden.

It's your fence that has the hole in it.
I suggest you mend it.

I suggest you put a cork
up your dog's arse.

That's now settled.
How about that drink?

Hello. What's your name?

Who's a good girl?

Want some of Mum's
famous pork lasagne?

(Growls)

Which brings me very neatly
to my 11th point.

The branches of your apple tree
are overhanging my garden.

Please cut them back within seven days

or I shall employ a tree surgeon
and forward you the bill.

- Anything else?
- Yes.

That scruffy shed of yours
has got to go.

I'll see myself out. Gemma, come on.

- Don't you want to hear my list?
- Huh.

Cut him some slack.
He's obviously a very unhappy man.

So am I. No one cuts me any slack.

You're still alive, aren't you?

Oh, God! What the? It's six o'clock.

I know. I couldn't sleep either.

Still, I've made breakfast for us.

Bring it back when it's morning.

Mr Casey. Huh!

Oh, for God's sake!

How dare Mr Casey say
my shed looks scruffy?

Huh! It's a perfectly good shed.

I'm sorry it doesn't live up to Mr Casey's
Platonic ideal of shed-hood

but this isn't
a best-kept shed competition.

It's life in the real world, buddy.

I know. You said at half past one
this morning.

Go on. Take his side.
We mustn't be too hard on him.

I'm not taking his side.
All I'm saying is he has a point.

- Jezebel.
- You tend to put things off.

I do not!

He's asked you
to mend that fence before.

That was months ago!

Mr Casey has a real sense of purpose.
He's never idle.

He's got an immaculate garden,
a newly painted house...

He's also got a dead wife.

But leaving that to one side,

you must admit he's got a pretty weird
relationship with that dog.

- I think it's rather touching.
- It is. It's stroking.

It's kissing.

If I popped my clogs,
would you replace me with a pet?

No pet could replace you.

Except perhaps a bad-tempered ferret.

Thank you.

Why is he being so pernickety?

God! The nerve of the man!

He goes on about
my overhanging branches

and parks his car
17 inches past my gatepost.

Mr Casey this, Mr Casey that.

I don't want to hear
another word about Mr Casey.

OK.

(Mr Casey) Morning!

- Morning, Mr Casey.
- What the hell?

Just fixing the guttering.

It's 6:00 in the morning!

Carpe diem! Pretend I'm not here!

(Tapping)

Lovely nightie, Mrs Harper.

- Mum.
- Yes, dear.

Is madness hereditary?

- Depends what sort.
- Dad's sort.

What's he doing now?

He's crawling around with
a tape measure and a skewer.

The nerve of the man!
The absolute, complete nerve!

- He's taken down our fence!
- So?

He's replaced it with a new one!

- And?
- It's 8cm into our garden.

What's 8cm? We've got a new fence.

It's 8cm of my territory.
Wars have been fought over less.

Remember loony Uncle Dave?
Was he a blood relative?

Annexation, that's what I call it.
Remember the Sudetenland?

- You never go into the garden.
- There's 8cm less to go into.

- Ben, let it go.
- All right.

OK, all right.

- Yeah, I've got to be sensible.
- Glad to hear it.

I'll stop complaining
and start plotting my revenge.

Amnesty International are campaigning
against torture in Indonesia.

I could plant a hedge. Leylandii.
Yes. Slow but effective.

We should write to the ambassador.

We'll build a swimming pool!
Drilling and diggers for months.

Oxfam says there's a refugee crisis.
They want donations.

I know there's suffering all over
the world. But I am suffering here.

- All I'm saying is...
- Here's 20 quid.

Give that to Oxfam
or Amnesty International.

Just give me ten minutes
to talk about Mr Casey. OK?

It's my time. I've paid for it.
You won't put me off.

OK.

Nick's taken Janey driving.

- How long have they been out?
- A couple of hours or so.

A couple of hours? In my car?

(Tyres screech)

(Both scream)

Oh, God!

(Janey and Nick screaming)

- I don't believe it!
- That was better than drugs!

Whatever that's like.

Next time I'll show you
how to do a handbrake turn.

Next time? There will be no next time!

By the way, your airbag deployed.

- What?
- Something wrong with it.

(Stammers)

What he's trying to say is, you're never
taking Janey driving again.

My test's in eight days.
What am I gonna do?

- Survive?
- Of course. It's obvious.

There's only one person
with the maturity,

the experience and the skills
to take me driving.

- Michael, are you busy?
- What?

- Michael's 12!
- 13. But it's what inside that counts.

You'll be inside if you get caught.

He won't. He can sit on cushions
and wear a false beard.

You'll just have to wait until I have time.

- You've said that for a week.
- There's always... isn't there?

You know, I mean... I could...
I could always take you.

You?

(Laughs)

What's so funny? I don't get it.

- Do you get it?
- No.

I'm a good driver.
I passed my test first time.

That was in the war. They needed
all the drivers they could get.

Go on. Make fun of your father.

OK.

You could knit three jumpers
with the hair from your ears.

Nobody's criticising your driving.

- It's just your...
- My what?

- Attitude.
- I do not have an...

I'm sorry. What do you mean?

Your bumper sticker says,
"Horn broken. Watch for finger."

And that time we drove in Wales.

I drove brilliantly!

You took the trouble
to learn some Welsh swear words.

What a splendid family.

A daughter who thinks I'm a joke,
a son who thinks I'm demented,

a wife who doesn't support me
and a... pillock.

At least we took your mind off Mr Casey.

Yes, Mr Casey. Mr Casey.

You pillock.

Hurry up, Mike! Before she gets home!

Oi! You two, what are you doing?

- Nothing.
- Nothing? What are these, then?

You're not going driving with Michael.

- But Mum...
- Michael!

Ow! Right, that's it.
I'm calling Social Services.

Now... l've had enough of this.

- I'm taking you.
- Oh!

- What's wrong?
- You're so bossy.

Ridiculous! And if you think
you're driving dressed like that...

Oh, come on, Mum.

That is it. I'm never
going out with you again.

I just said to put on your seatbelt

before adjusting your mirror.

- Why did you grab the wheel?
- I panicked.

I hadn't even turned the engine on!

- Fail if you want to.
- Thanks. I will.

I don't know what's going on.
I don't want to know.

You've just condensed
your world view into one sentence.

So let's see
what's hit the fan this morning.

(Ben laughs)

- Do you know what this is?
- I'm guessing. A newspaper?

Not just any newspaper.
It's Mr Casey's newspaper.

(Laughs)

The newspaper boy
must have delivered it by mistake.

I'll pop it round when I go out.

You'll do no such thing.

Oh, the power. Oh, yes!

But what to do with it?

- You should give it back.
- Oh, I'll give it back.

But not until I've completed
the crossword.

Ha, ha!

Oh, yes! Hee, hee, hee!

One across... Oh.

No, that can't be right. That's a misprint.

OK. One down.

Oh, God. What's that?

OK, OK. Let's do the quick crossword.

Quickie. Quickie, quickie.

Quickie, quickie.

- Janey's pregnant.
- Really? Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

- I'm leaving you.
- Good.

- Nick's wearing your trousers.
- (Ben) What?

- Why are you wearing those?
- Like I said, asset management.

You wouldn't leave an aircraft
standing around idle.

My trousers are not an aircraft.

They are when I'm wearing them. Brrrr!

Please, just take them off.

No, no, in your room.

- Keep your hair on.
- I will or you'll wear it.

- (Doorbell)
- OK. OK.

It's him. Just act normal, everybody.

If you can remember how.

- Hello, Mr Casey.
- Good morning.

- Cup of tea?
- No, I'm not stopping.

What an interesting piece!

Mr Harper, I brought your newspaper.

Canadian scientists have cloned an elk.
Whatever next?

Paperboy must have made a mistake.

A letter about
the European Monetary Union.

I'd better keep that
for bedtime, I suppose.

Ben.

So, my newspaper.

Oh, yeah. Dad's got it.

Yes. I can see that.

Mr Harper,
I think you've got my newspaper.

I think you've got 8cm of my garden.

I think you've been
throwing snails over my fence.

I think you've been mowing
your lawn at 11 at night.

I think you don't mow your lawn at all.

It's a wilderness garden.

And you've been letting him
sunbathe out there. In the nude.

- He never did that.
- Yes, I did.

While my mother
was out there taking tea.

- She shouldn't have looked.
- He was up a tree!

I'm a child of nature.

This is stupid.
Ben, give him the damn paper.

Oh, look. Obituaries.

It's always some dull fart.
Usually a civil servant.

My wife was a civil servant.

Was she a dull fart, Mr Harper?

No, I'm sure she was, er...

No. She was a good, kind woman.

Yeah. Sure. You know... yeah.

It's, er... I wasn't really
talking about your wife when...

So, Gemma. Do you do tricks?

Here's your newspaper.

Mr Casey, here's your paper.

I don't want it. Come along, Gemma.

I'll explain to you at home.

Say hi to your mum.

Oh, my God! This is the worst thing
that's ever happened to me.

All you have to do is swallow your pride,
go next door and apologise.

- That's what I mean.
- It's not difficult.

You've done it before.

Remember the taxi driver
in Westcliffe-on-Sea?

Oh, God. Yeah, all right.

OK. You're right.

You are so right. Yes, he's lost his wife.

I should make allowances. Just...

Oh, my God,
he's done my sodding crossword!

- OK, what's Casey done now?
- He hasn't done anything.

- We saw the fire engine.
- OK. The shed burnt down.

What? Mr Casey burnt my shed down?

No, it was an accident.

There is no such thing as an accident.

OK. It's your fault.
You had four open tins of paint in there.

With that and the oily rags
it was inevitable.

Tins of paint and oily rags
just spontaneously combust?

- Yes.
- Why are you trying to protect him?

It could have happened at any time.

But it didn't. It happened now,
in the fog of war.

Oh, my God.

So, how was driving with your father?

- It went very well.
- Did he shout much?

Did he grab the wheel?
Stamp on the imaginary brake?

- What do you mean it went well?
- He just let me drive.

- His mind was on something else.
- Mr Casey?

Yep. We followed him around
for three hours.

- Good grief.
- Dad called it reconnaissance.

We went to the supermarket,
the leisure centre, the cemetery.

I got to practise parking.

The last earthly remains of my shed.

I had such plans.

I'll see if I can fix it.

Don't bother.
Nothing can replace my shed.

How about another shed?

It's all right, Nick.
She doesn't understand.

- I don't understand either.
- Actually, I don't understand.

It's just that a man must have a shed.

You never knew you had one
till it burnt down.

Now I feel emasculated.
It's like not having a tool box.

- You haven't got a tool box.
- Haven't I?

You weren't using it
so it sort of got sold.

- What did you do that for?
- The money.

You seem to be forgetting
I've got bits of wood in either hand.

Look, Dad - if I hadn't sold it,
it'd still be in the shed.

So I saved it from being burned.
Karma, Dad.

I am being calm!

I just suffered a double trauma.
No shed, no tool box.

What do I do if something
goes wrong in the house?

Ignore it and let me sort it out as always.

- (Doorbell)
- If that's Mr Casey,

he'll rue the day he ever met Ben Harper.

- Oh.
- Mr Harper?

- Yes?
- Can we have a word?

We're researchers from the TV
programme, Nightmare Neighbours.

(Laughs)

- That's... Oh, please, come in.
- Thank you.

You can do a programme
about my neighbour, Mr Casey.

- That's why we're here.
- Terrific.

Mr Casey's asked us
to do a programme about you.

(# Loud accordion music)

Ben, you have no idea
how ludicrous that is.

Huh? Yeah, you're right.

I'm gonna rig up
some special sort of stand.

You know very well what I mean.

It's 12:30. For God's sake, come to bed.

Are you kidding? Huh!

If Mr Casey wants
a nightmare neighbour,

by God, I'm gonna give him one.

This is seriously getting on my tits.

Think what it's doing to Mr Casey.

(Turns music off)

- What are you doing?
- Play something I like.

- Like Rigoletto.
- Oh, yes! Great idea!

That'll really wind him up.

I've never seen you so dynamic.

If you put half as much energy
into the garden

none of this would have happened.

- Just let it go.
- I can't. It's about territory.

Then why don't you go
and pee on his trees?

- (# Rigoletto)
- Here. Let me help you.

- What's wrong with you?
- Me? What about you?

For two weeks, you've been
grumpy and irrational.

Then this feud with Mr Casey starts.

All right, all right. OK.

It may seem ridiculous to you, Susan,

but I'm doing what man has done
since the dawn of time.

- Making an arse of himself.
- Defending my home.

It's the only thing I have worth having.

Apart from your wife and children.

- Well, that goes without saying.
- Evidently.

If I don't stand up to Mr Casey,

all I'll have left is what's up here.

Oh. Plenty of space, then.

(# The Birdie Song on Hammond organ)

Right, you two. Listen.

I'm ending this madness
that is ruining all our lives.

You're gonna kill Dad?

No. I've invited Mr Casey round.

Mr Casey's gonna kill Dad?

I thought it would be a good idea

if Mr Casey and your father
sat down like two rational adults.

- But Dad's not rational.
- That's where I come in.

While your father's
taking Janey to her test,

I thought I'd use my people skills
to negotiate a truce.

- Like the United Nations.
- With as much success.

Mr Casey will be here any minute.

Michael, be on your best behaviour.

And Nick...

Actually, both of you, go to your rooms.

- Have you told Dad about this?
- No, but I will.

- Good move.
- (Doorbell)

Come on, Mikey. To the shelters.

Mr Casey, come in.
So glad you could make it.

So where is he?

I'll talk to him separately.

I just wanted your opinion

on what it would take to come
to some sort of truce, if you will.

Easy enough, so long as Mr Harper
accepts that it's all his fault.

One of the important things
about negotiations

is to look for the middle ground.

It's never the case that
one side is completely right

and the other completely wrong.

- Yes, it is.
- No room for give and take?

If he gives me an apology, I'll take it.

Does it have to be an apology?
How about a fruit basket?

- Are you trying to be funny?
- No.

I'm practising my people skills, dammit.

Not very good at it, are you?

- (Door opens)
- Shut up and wait here.

- How did the test go?
- (Crying) I passed.

- What's wrong with her?
- Oh, no!

What's he doing here?

I invited him over to negotiate a truce.

- What were you thinking?
- I know. You're right.

- He's completely unreasonable.
- Leave this to me, Susan.

Be my guest.

Ah, Mr Casey. How lovely to see you.

Now look here, Mr Harper.
I demand an apology.

- You can't have it.
- I apologise. It's all my fault.

Oh. Well, I'll bury the hatchet
if you agree to my conditions.

- Never.
- Sure. Fire away.

Stop blasting loud,
hideous music at night.

- We like hideous music.
- No problem.

Secondly, that fence
is staying where it is.

Absolutely. And as it's my fence,
I should pay for it.

Oh. Well, all right.

But I'm not paying for that shed.

- Arsonist!
- Susan, please.

She's...

I want you to pay a professional
gardener to tidy up that jungle.

Yep. Consider it done.

I'll park my car across
your drive whenever I like.

Whatever you want. Anything else?

Yes. I want... I want...

- I want that photo frame.
- It's all yours.

Well. Thank you.

I'm glad we managed to sort this out.

- So am I. And goodbye.
- Goodbye.

I'll see myself out.

What the hell was that?

I think I need a drink.

Not before you tell me what's going on.

After Janey passed her driving test,

I, erm... I decided to drive her home

and, you know, show her a few
advanced driving tips and, erm...

show her a few of
the back doubles and...

What have you done?

I ran over Mr Casey's dog.

- Where are you going?
- To the pet shop. You?

The estate agent's.