One Foot in the Grave (1990–2001): Season 6, Episode 2 - Tales of Terror - full transcript

# They say I might as well face the truth

# That I am just too long in the tooth

# So I'm an OAP and weak-kneed

# But I have not yet quite gone to seed

# I may be over the hill now that I have retired

# Fading away but I've not yet expired

# Clapped out, run down, too old to save

# One foot in the grave #

Oh, is that right, Mr Blisset?

Well, funnily enough,
the fact that you've got it firmly in hand

does not surprise me at all.



It's exactly what I would expect
from a complete and utter wa...

What?

I ordered a crazy-paved path for the front garden.

Where does a pile of bricks come into it?

Oh yes, and I've stopped that cheque for the thing
you laughingly call a barbeque out the back there,

which hasn't been in the right place since day one.

Yes, well you can threaten me
all you like, Mr Blisset.

You're not getting a penny of my money
now or ever!

Oh, when will it ever end?

When they carry me out of here in a box.

It's not my doing, all this.

-People just can't be bothered any more.
-Yes.

Like buying a new car with a pornographic
number plate wasn't your doing.

Got stuck in a funeral procession this morning.



The mourners were upset enough

without having to stare at that obscenity
all the way to the crematorium.

(GROANING)

Do we have to have this
stuck up inside a food cupboard?

It's just while I'm doing my tests.
You know what the doctor said.

To keep a watch for any marked change
in frequency or consistency...

Yes, all right. I don't think
we need to go into the details. Thank you.

Now, are you going to go out
and cover those things up?

-There's some Elastoplast in the top cupboard.
-Yes, in a second.

MARGARET: Oh.

What's this?

-Oh, from Ronnie and Mildred. Read it and weep.
-Why, what's it say?

Do you remember
that message he left us on April 1st

saying did we fancy two tickets to the Bahamas
that he'd won in the firm's raffle

because Mildred wasn't well enough to go?

Yes, which was obviously an April Fool's
so we didn't bother to reply...

Oh, you're joking.

Absolutely genuine.

Gave it to the next door neighbours.
They had the time of their lives.

It says in there
that Mildred's still going through a dodgy patch

but they're both dying to meet up again
and he's going to give us a ring

to try and arrange something.

Oh, God!
And the answering machine is not working.

We'll have to declare a full code red.

Let every call ring.
Then dial 1471 and see if it's safe to phone back.

I knew it was a bad sign this morning
when I ran out of vests

and had to put one of their novelty T-shirts on.

Why do people always want to "meet up"?

Bad enough we've got Mrs Warboys
coming around tonight with Cousin Wilf

with that weird voice synthesizer thing of his
and his Palmtop.

Like having tea with a Dalek.

Well, if the poor man can't speak since his stroke,
what else is he supposed to do?

It's a marvellous invention, really.

Well, if he'd learn to type properly.

I haven't forgotten the last time they were here

when he asked me to put
some hot mustard on his rhubarb.

Neither does he.

NICK: Morning, Mr Meldrew.

I see your butt's in a sorry state
at the moment then.

What?

Oh, yeah. well, of course,
we haven't really had the rain, so...

-If you stand back, I'll give you a top-up.
-Sorry?

Yes, yes, thank you very much. That'll do for now.

Oh, yes. Gardens have been getting a bit
dry all over lately.

Weathermen say there's more to come.

-Where did that come from?
-Sorry?

Oh, yes. I've just been giving it
a quick rinse through ready for its next outing.

Very realistic, they make them nowadays.

When I first started in amateur dramatics you had
to make do with a face painted on a balloon.

Right. So you're doing some kind of play.

Oh, yes, I've just completed
a very successful tour of nursing homes

with Murders in the Rue Morgue.

Seemed to go down quite well with the over-80s.

Yes, we found from experience
that anything without a decapitation in it,

they tend to start nodding off.

So, and of course, for this one,

Mr Snoxle gave us his rather splendid orangutan.

So, it was quite a hit, all in all.

Oh, really? Mr Snoxle?

- I didn't know he had one.
-What's that?

-An orangutan.
-Sorry?

Oh, no, no, no, no. That's just
an expression we use in theatrical circles.

I mean, he gave us his portrayal of an orangutan.

I could be naughty
and say he's got a bit of a head start.

Anyway, for our next production
in our season Tales of Terror,

we're doing Nosferatu the Vampire,
which should be quite a good one.

We've got little Mrs Impey from number 10

playing the headless corpse of Lucy Westenras

and, fingers crossed, for the title role,

we're hoping to get Mr Dimkins
from the chip shop.

(WOMAN HOOTING)

Oh, hello, Mrs Impey.
Just a tick and I'll unlock the gate for you.

I was telling Mr Meldrew I've just put your head

through some Stergene
so it's all nice and fresh for you.

Well, I wish you luck with it all, anyway.

Yeah, bye-bye to you.

And don't forget, if you ever need my hosepipe,
you know where it is.

And I mean, you'd never guess the man was 85.
Would you, Wilf?

Whizzing about around that great big house
in his wheelchair.

His wife was talking
about getting some speed ramps

put in along the upstairs landing.

If she can get a grant from the council.

SYNTHESIZER: It was so nice to see
my brothel again after all these years.

Yes. Yes, it must have been.

And this was up in Pontefract did you say?

Which is an awfully long time
in a car these days for Wilf.

Especially in the hot weather.

SYNTHESIZER: I was violently sick 17 times.

-Oh, dear.
-Now, while I think of it...

Check.

Here's a little something for you, Mr Meldrew,

from the local deli up there.

Thank you very much, Mrs Warboys.

And I remembered you saying
you were in need of a new jigsaw,

for something to do in the evenings.

So...

Thank you very much, Mrs Warboys.

That's Sheffield Steel. It'll last you a lifetime.

SYNTHESIZER:
I am just going to go to the lavoraty.

You know where it is, Wilf.

Bless him. He's coping so well.

And you know it's his 75th birthday
coming up this Friday.

I was thinking of taking him
to the Old Moat House, just up the road from here

for a big slap-up lunch to celebrate.

I know he'd absolutely love it
if you and Victor could join us.

So, what do you say?

Well, actually, we'd love to come.

But unfortunately,
we've got to go to a funeral on Friday.

An old friend of the family.

And I'm afraid we'll be in London all day.

-Oh, dear. What a shame.
-Isn't it always the way?

Yes, well.

SYNTHESIZER:
Could someone get me a bra of soup?

Victor, you dare!

What do you want to go and tell them
a lie like that for?

Say we're going to a funeral of all things.

What else was I supposed to say?
No, thanks, we'd both be bored witless?

And you'll be glad of it
when next Friday comes around.

Hmm, I suppose.

It's like you say.

Why do people always want to meet up?

Hal

They've finally taken away that pile of bricks,
I see. Will wonders never cease?

You say I shouldn't keep on at them,

but it's the only language they understand,
I'm afraid.

What in the name of...!

When did they do...?

Can you believe this?

What is it now, for goodness...?

Is that a real wall?

Oh, they can't have done...

You see now
the kind of psychopaths we're dealing with?

Break into your house in the middle of the night
and do a thing like this!

What were they using? Muffled hods?

Well, we'll have to call somebody.
The fire brigade or another builder.

Chances are, they'll have it down
in a couple of hours.

Couple of hours?

My bladder won't last five minutes.

Who are you ringing?

Now, there's a big rubber nozzle on the end,
Mr Meldrew,

where you'd normally fit it onto a tap.

VICTOR: Yes, right.

(VICTOR EXCLAIMING)

Just hurry up, please,
and let me know when you're ready.

Right, yes, sorry.

In your own time then, Mr Meldrew.

God spare us all.

Sorry, Mr Dimkins, when you say
a problem empathising with the character,

which particular...? The blood-sucking.

And turning into a wolf.

No, no, no, no, I hear what you're saying,
and thank you for letting me know anyway.

Erm... Bye-bye to you.

Can I offer you a bite at all?

Sorry?

Oh, no. It's more than I dare to.
Now, I have managed to get it all off.

Now, that's a bit of bad news. Mr Dimkins
from the chip shop has just turned us down.

The vampire part?

So, what do you think you'll do now, then?

I don't suppose there's any way

it would interest you at all?

WOMAN: Oh, my God! No, no! No!

(WOMAN SCREAMING)

No, thanks ever so much.
It was really useful actually.

It's given me some great insights,
I think, on where to go with it all.

Pleasure. Well, I'll see you at rehearsals then,
Lindsey, on Friday.

Okay, yep. Bye.

You know, it's a shame about Christopher Lee.

He never quite managed to pull it off somehow,
did he?

Never really got under the skin of the character.

As far as I could see.

Yes, well. When you've finished drinking
the blood of virgins,

you may like to know
that our number plates have gone.

Number plates? How do you mean gone?

Gone, stolen.

Probably by somebody around here
who was sick to death of the sight of them.

(PHONE RINGING)

Don't answer that!

That'll be Ronnie and Mildred's noon offensive.

You pick that up
and we'll be stuck with them forever more.

Sorry, I forgot. Is that the second post?

-Yep.
-No news, I suppose, about my test result.

What test?

Well, I'm not talking about my eleven-plus, am I?

My test.

Will you stop going on about that thing?
You're worse than a child.

If you want to do something useful,
go and look up the number of that car place

and see about getting us some new plates.

Right.

That's me off to rehearsals, then.

I may be a while.

Oh, and I think we've missed
the electricity man again.

I've left his card on the table
if you want to do a reading.

Just take some deep breaths, Wilf. You'll be fine.

I suppose, on reflection, that Knickerbocker Glory
was a bit heavy.

You know what you're like in cars these days.

It's a godsend I've still got their spare key
from the other week.

We'll just pop you inside
and you can have a little lie down

till your tummy's settled.

As I say,

they were desperate
to come out with us themselves.

But there we are.

I don't suppose it's been much fun
for the two of them all day,

having to go to London for a funeral.

(KEYS JINGLING)

JEAN: Just one more second, Wilf. Try to hold out.

I'll just pop upstairs and get you a wet flannel.

(WILF RETCHING)

Okay, then, everyone. Erm, we're just
gonna have a look at a few problem areas

in Act III this afternoon.
I think we're all present and correct.

Er, Mrs Impey will be with us shortly.

She's just upstairs with Derek
having her costume tweaked.

And, oh, yes.
One bit of good news first of all, Mr Meldrew.

Remember I said Lindsey had gone down
with a nasty tummy bug

and might not be well enough
for your big seduction scene together?

Well, she's got worse, I'm afraid.

But, at the last minute, her auntie Maureen

has very generously agreed to step into her shoes.

So, luckily, we've fallen on our feet there.

Now, why don't you come and park yourself here
next to Mr Snoxle and we'll begin.

How are you feeling now?

I think I would like a glare of water.

Yes, of course. You wait right there.

I think I am going to be sick again.

So, that's been
a very productive session then, everyone.

Now, there's more tea coming if anyone wants it.

And an orange juice for you, Mrs Impey, wasn't it?

Oh, yes. Mr Meldrew, I nearly forgot.

This came through my door for you
this morning, in error.

-Chartres Hospital.
-Mmm. Yeah.

Didn't you say you were expecting
some test results from there or something?

-WOMAN: Mr Swainey.
-Yes, coming right up.

So, what do you think?

You've got a bit more colour in your cheeks now.

Do you want to rest a bit longer or...?

Oh...

SYNTHESIZER: I think I would like a glare of water.

I think I am going to be sick again.

(TOILET FLUSHING)

MARGARET: Ow!

What the hell are you doing in there?

What am I doing...?

I'll be...

How long have you been back?

-Since about 5:00. Why?
Five...

(GRUNTING)

Jean was here.

Cousin Wilf was being sick in the car again

and they came in here to...
Oh! For the love of monk!

Four hours nearly,
I've been in there doubled up like a penknife.

Didn't you even wonder where I was?

-I had other things on my mind.
-Oh, what?

Prising your face out of Lindsey Gibbon's
neck all afternoon?

-My test result is positive.
-What?

What?

You mean, they found there was blood in the...

Said I have to make an appointment
with a specialist at my earliest convenience

for further investigations.

Perhaps I'll make a cup of tea.

(DOOR OPENING)

MARGARET: I despair. I do, straight.

Last week, two big black bags I gave you.

One, full of clothes to take to the dry cleaners.

The other, with the carpet cuttings
to go up the tip.

I mean, no one would believe it, would they?

So, that's three of my best skirts, is it,

have now gone into the crusher.

I wonder you've got the brains
you were born with sometimes...

What time is your hospital appointment? 12:30?

You sure you don't want me to come with you?

I don't have to do
this wretched number plate thing today.

No, you go and get that sorted out.

Perhaps, I'll find you on the way back.
It's only two bus stops.

It's probably just a small ulcer or something
in there that's been bleeding.

I'll see you later.

And stop worrying.

JEAN: Anyone in?

I'm sorry I'm a bit later than I said.

My car started making a noise like an elephant
whenever I go into third gear.

-For some reason.
-Right, I'll get that thing for you.

Shame that. I've got rather a lot to get today.

Thanks.

Of course, I still haven't been
in your new car yet, have I?

Didn't you say you had to go into town
at some point today?

Or did I imagine it?

So, Mr Meldrew.

Haemocult tests were positive.

But no clinical symptoms
other than a generally irritable bowel.

And there's no reason you can think of

why blood should have
found its way into your digestive system?

Unless it's to do with being a vampire.

I'm rehearsing for this play.

I'm afraid there's no easy way of finding out

what's lurking inside a person's large intestine,
Mr Meldrew.

So, are you familiar
with a procedure called a colonoscopy?

Victor.

What did he say? Was everything all right?

They gave me a sedative.

Well, they put this thing like a long tube
with a sparkler on the end right up inside...

Er...

-What did they find?
-Mrs Warboys' black pudding.

What?

Said he couldn't find
anything at all wrong there inside me.

Then, as I was getting dressed

I suddenly remembered.
I'd had that ruddy black pudding.

Full of pig's blood and God-knows-what.

I need to lie down before I fall down.
Where's the car?

Oh, where is he? I thought you said
he'd come out to the car for a lie down.

Well, he did. I mean...

He wouldn't have got into the wrong one
or anything, surely.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Go and sit down.
You must be ready for a cup of tea.

Sit down, that's a joke.

Bad enough feeling like I've had
an anaconda up my anus,

thanks to Mrs Warboys.

Then to waking up in the back of that bloody thing
halfway to Burton-on-Trent.

Never thought I was going to get off alive.

Well, it's lucky you had the money
for the train fare.

Or you might still...

(PHONE RINGING)

4291.

Ronnie.

I'm sorry we haven't been in touch,
but things have been a bit hectic here.

Hectic?

I've had a right basin-full of it lately,
I have straight.

Pipes up your front end, pipes up your back.

Whoever tried to force a camel
through the eye of a needle...

Yes, yes. We'll be round, right away.

Round where right away?
What the hell did you tell him that for?

-Mildred's dead.
-What do you mean?

What do I mean?

Dead. Stopped breathing. A few minutes ago.

They were playing cards. She went upstairs...

Poor man's in a terrible state.
He didn't know who else to turn to.

Oh, my God!

I'll get my coat.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

(DOOR BELL RINGING)

Ronnie.

I don't know what on earth to say.
Have you rung for an ambulance?

I mean, what happened? You say there was
no sign, no warning of any kind.

She only needed, Mrs Stitch,
the Tailor's wife, to win.

Said she'd just got to pop upstairs
for a moment to...

And then, of course,

when she didn't come down again...

So, er...

Where is she now?

She still up there?

I just can't get my head round it even now.

I mean, she seemed such a jolly soul.

Well, they both did.

Now we find out she's been suffering
these terrible bouts of depression.

Heaven knows how he's gonna cope from now on.

It would be an upset for anyone, I should think,
to find your wife's hanged herself

during a game of Happy Families.

So, that's another funeral we've got to go to.

What do you mean another one?
The first one didn't exist.

I don't know.

How are you supposed to cope
with all the tragedy in life?

What was it that philosopher said?
"Just go out and cultivate your garden."

If you don't mind,
I'll just go and water the dahlias.

Victor?

What?

I'll get the lunch on.

# They say I might as well face the truth

# That I am just too long in the tooth

# I've started to deteriorate

# And now I've passed my own sell-by date

# Oh, I am no spring chicken, it's true

# I have to pop my teeth in to chew

# And my old knees have started to knock

# I've just got too many miles on the clock

# So I'm a wrinkly, crinkly, set in my ways

# It's true that my body has seen better days

# But give me half a chance
and I can still misbehave

# One foot in the grave

# One foot in the grave

# One foot in the grave #