Peep Show (2003–2015): Season 8, Episode 2 - Business Secrets of the Pharaohs - full transcript

♪ I'm not sick, but I'm not well
♪ And I'm so hot
♪ Cos I'm in hell. ♪
Glass shower door.
Attractive,
but soon the streaks will appear.
The thing about bathroom accessories is
I can sell you your dream bathroom - I'd be delighted to...
but it don't mean a ting if it ain't got that swing.
The old WP.
Water pressure.
And I'm sorry, but that just ain't my department.
Mark, mate, you do know that the more you talk about bathrooms,
the more I feel quite strongly that I'd like to kill myself?
At least I have a job.
Yeah, all right, no need to lord it, Armitage Shanks.
I've actually got a very exciting new career lined up.
You know you're too old to be a rent boy?
There's not a big market for rent men.
I'm going to be a therapist.
Yes, but what kind of mad therapy?
Jezicise, where you hump people better with crystals?
I guess it's better than some of your job ideas,
like becoming an admiral.
I'm a highly intuitive person.
I'd make a great therapist. Look at all the pussy I bag!
Is that particular quote from Jung or Freud?
I found this course - Personal Invoicing Life Coaching.
And they've got some great-looking certificates.
It's basically all the best things about therapy and self-help
but without the...
Hard work?
..unnecessary bolt-ons. The extras.
Golf?
Yeah. It's to show that it's for wankers in shirts
as well as freaks with bum bags. It's proper, Mark.
They've got a website.
Oh, well, I'm sorry. If they've got a website, the people running it
definitely have fingers. And a computer.
Or at least the address of an internet cafe.
It's a week's intensive training, and then bang, I'm out there.
After a week?
Mark, if it looks like a life coach
and it's got a certificate saying that it's a life coach,
then it's probably a life coach.
'Although it might in fact be a failed musician with chlamydia.'
'Oh, God, I am now in the morning
'and I should have been in bed in the night.
'And I have to get up for work in the morning!
'Not next morning, this morning!
'Oh, Simon, the ex.'
Here you go, guys. Celebrate the start-up. Cheers!
'It's so great that we get to hang out with our girlfriends' exes
'in the modern world. So relaxing.'
Good luck to you in this incredibly hostile business environment.
Thanks, man. What are you up to right now, Mark?
Me? Oh... retail.
Reckon the high street's going to make a comeback.
So, er...
yeah. Very exciting.
Bathroom supplies.
Oh!
'I've dropped the B word, and they don't know what to say.'
Yes, that's my niche. Shitting and washing.
Those babies are recession-proof.
Mark's also been working on a book!
Oh, OK, cool!
'I love you, Dobby.'
Oh, it's... it's nothing.
Oh. OK.
Well, I mean, it is something.
- I just don't want to talk about it. - Understood.
Business Secrets Of The Pharaohs, it's called.
I've got it in with several publishers. The... initial chapters.
It's good, cos you sit down thinking,
"OK, this is gonna be fucking boring,"
but then you're, like, "Mm, maybe not!"
So, what are the business secrets of the pharaohs?
Well, look, the first thing is to acknowledge
that the Ancient Egyptian era
is so completely different from our own
that any cultural, political or business parallels
that we draw between the two eras are by their very nature
almost bound to be wrong.
Oh, look who it is!
Hey, Mark, listen.
They've offered me a job at the start-up!
Oh. Wow. Great!
'Oh, God, Dobby bound more tightly with "the clique",
'more endless evenings out.'
I'm so bored doing IT for the council, Mark.
With any luck, it'll be one of the 5% of internet start-ups
that don't fold within the first 18 months.
Right.
'God, I love those made-up stats.'
It's just, ever since Gerrard died, I've been thinking,
life's so short. You've gotta seize the day.
'Gerrard! Back from the grave to foil my plans,
'like a boring Dracula.'
So, welcome to Personal Invoicing Life Coaching.
I'm Celia. Everyone sit down, and we'll get started.
'So, who have we got here? The competition.
'Yeah, get your life coached by a failed supply teacher
'with the easy charm of a nonce in a prison yard. No, thanks.
'And... got your number, baby.
'Life coaching course equals non-judgmental space
'to meet similar freaks for mutual hippy touching.'
So, did everyone get a chance
to read through the course textbook that I mentioned in my e-mail?
'Fucking squares.
'Who's got time to read all the way down to the bottom of an e-mail?'
So, what did everyone think of the core principles? Hm?
How about you...
Jeremy?
'OK, here we go, hero or zero.'
Me? Er, I thought...
Well, to be honest with you, I thought it was...
shit.
What, all of it?
Look, I'm not gonna sit here and regurgitate
a whole load of book learning.
'..that I have no idea what it is.'
I mean, yeah, I read it, and yeah... fine,
but... when you're in the head space forest,
you can't look in no textbook when you've got a 300lb emotion
racing at you with its claws out, crying.
I think I know what you mean. It's quite true.
'Of course it's quite true. I just made it up.'
Hiya.
Hi, Jez. Jez!
Have a glass of something that for legal reasons must call itself
"sparkling grape-style drinking wine".
Er, thanks.
'Have they found some legal way to force me out of the flat?'
Mark's found a publisher for his book!
Brilliant. 'His book?
'What next - he's found a director for his film,
'a builder for his cathedral?'
Got the e-mail today. From BL Books.
Very enthusiastic.
They've got a slot as long as I can finish my rewrites ASAP.
I guess what this shows is hard work pays dividends.
Mm, I know what you mean.
I was working pretty hard today on my course.
Yeah. Exactly.
'Appearing on I'm A Celebrity is not the same as winning
'an Olympic gold medal.'
I suppose this means it's all looking up for the El Dude Brothers,
or JK Rowling and Sigmund Freud,
as we should probably start calling ourselves.
'Sir Steven Redgrave and Timmy Mallett might be more appropriate.'
'I could write a book. Piece of piss.
'Chapter one. The end. There you go. Book.'
So, how was the life coaching?
Good. Great, actually. Did a load of great exercises.
Pretty sure I won.
Not that it's a competition, but it was pretty clear
I was the best.
Actually, they want me to find a volunteer to practise on.
Well, life-coach me!
I'm a gormless dweeb stuck on the horns of a dilemma.
But, Dobs, Game Of Thrones?
Yeah, we can put the dragon tits on pause, can't we?
Just got to nip to the disgustatorium.
No need to think about what I'm gonna do.
Then feel free to coach my ass!
Jez, will you please get your filthy hands out of my girlfriend's brain?
What?
You'd better not be about to tell her
to "expect more out of life" or "follow her heart".
I'm gonna tell her what's right for her. We have a code of ethics.
It's a professional discipline. There's a pamphlet!
I want to be her life coach. We can't both be her life coach.
You can't be her life coach, Mark. You haven't got a certificate.
I could if I spent 200 quid and went to Forest Hill for five hours.
OK, Jez, ready!
Please, Jez! Can you coach her that Simon's a shit
and to stop hanging out with him?
All right.
But I'm warning you, I'm only gonna do one unethical thing in my career.
It just happens to be the very first thing.
Mark? Are you stirring your coffee
very quietly without chinking the side so I can't hear
and you don't have to make one for me?
What? No!
'Oh, he's rumbled the velvet spoon routine.
'That's been good for years.'
Midnight coffee? You're not gonna go barmy
and start phoning up 5 live saying you've seen
the end of civilisation in the bottom of a Bargain Bucket?
Look, it's just I'm on a roll. I've done 6,000 words since 6pm.
Yeah, I know. You type like you're trying to massacre imaginary ants
swarming your keyboard.
I've had seven black coffees
and I feel like I'm really nailing it.
Mark, you're in caps.
It looks like you've been in caps for a few hours.
Caps still count! I've just drawn an irresistible comparison
between Mentuhotep V and Branson.
I'm thinking of drawing Branson as a hieroglyph. What do you think?
I think maybe you should get quite a lot of sleep.
I just need to hit a thousand more words, then a spell-check,
then I'm done.
- Ah, don't worry about the spell-check, dude. - You don't think?
No. They'll have a big spellchecker with all the latest words.
That's what publishers are
these days - spellcheckers who take you out for lunch.
'Yeah, keep killing those ants, Charles Dickens.
'Private meeting with the tutor!
'Leave the life buses at the bus stop...
'I'm getting the coach!'
Great morning. You're an amazing therapist.
Thanks, Jez. But I'm a life coach, not a therapist.
Yeah. Right. Exactly.
Who can be bothered to get a degree and spend four years moaning on
about how your gran sent you to primary school with raw chicken
in your packed lunch, because she'd mixed up the Tupperware boxes
and you thought she was trying to poison you?
Did that happen to you?
Er, yeah, yeah, it did, actually. We laughed about it.
'Mixing up the boxes? Yeah, right!
'I know you were trying to kill me, Gran.'
So, er, any idea what you're gonna have?
You need to check with me before you make your decision?
Just... curious. I was thinking about having the burger?
Why do you say that like a question?
I-I don't know.
Well, if you want the burger, order the burger.
I mean, I was gonna order the burger,
but now I feel like you've got a problem with me ordering the burger?
And what makes you feel that way?
Because we're talking quite a lot about me ordering the burger?
You guys ready to order?
Er... yeah.
I think I'll have the...
halloumi salad?
Anything to drink?
Water...?
'Salad and a water?! I'm ordering myself a horrible lunch
'and somehow also totally getting everything wrong.'
And for you?
Actually, you know what? Fuck it. I'll have a Coke. Man Coke,
not any Wayne Rooney, hair-transplant bullshit.
And screw the salad - I'll have a burger. And a chocolate cheesecake.
Yeah, that's right, I'm ordering pudding before I've even started
my main course. If you've got a problem, send out the manager.
Good! I'll have the same.
I know what I want. And I'm not afraid to ask for it.
Look, I'm just gonna say this.
I love you, Celia.
'So great for a first date!
'Stone-cold classic.'
'Afternoon delight, nailing the course and the tutor!'
- I'm the boss. - You're the boss.
And I've got a fucking grass skirt.
Oh, yes, you've got a grass skirt.
A grass skirt made of dicks.
Mm-hm...
I've cut all the dicks off...
..and they're hanging from my skirt.
Does that make you hard, Jeremy?
Oh, yeah...
Just... go for it, Jeremy.
I'm sorry?
Just go for it.
Right...
I-I am going for it?
Oh. Fine.
S-Sorry, it's just... by telling me to go for it,
it felt like you were saying I'm not going for it.
No. No, I was just checking.
Right. And the severed dicks?
Th... The skirt made of...? What is that?
I was in the moment, Jez!
God!
Sorry if I broke a taboo.
Who wants boundaries in the bedroom?
Now...
you tell me your fantasy.
'OK. My fantasy. What is my fantasy? It's basically just humping.
'I love humping. But need something more edgy.'
Sorry about the last-minute venue change.
Just, er... on my way to the Frankfurt Book Fair.
No problem. You're a busy guy with a lot of irons in the fire.
Tch! Yeah. Exactly.
'This must be the greatest quantity of squeezable mustard
'ever present at a literary lunch.'
Anyway, just wanted to catch you to say how much I loved your book.
Oh, wow! Thank you!
Cos I hurried finishing it,
I was worried I overdid Chapter Three.
No.
It's not too obvious,
the parallel between the Nubians and the Assyrians,
and a modern business's enemies, web competitors and Chinese imports?
Actually, my favourite chapter.
God, that is so great to hear!
Cos it's initially compelling, but I was worried...
No, don't worry about the book. Book's...
book's great.
Thing is, we've actually just had some bad news from Denmark.
Hamlet's back, and he's made his final decision to be?
'God, I'm such an oaf! In publishing, he must have heard
'a million Hamlet jokes.'
It's where we get our books printed. And in the last week,
the paper costs have just skyrocketed.
It's the euro.
Oh, of course. The euro!
The bloody euro getting it wrong again.
It's hitting everyone.
The upshot is we're having to ask all our authors to put in 2K
just to cover the extra costs.
Oh... right.
It's unavoidable, unfortunately.
I mean, Rushdie is pissing blood over at Jonathan Cape, apparently.
But... big picture - the book is going to be such a monster hit,
there's no downside.
Oh, there's no downside?
No. In fact, I am so confident, I am prepared to cut you
an extra percentage point on books sold over a quarter of a million.
Oh, wow! That... that's great!
'Mm. Don't act too pleased.
'Remember Johnson.
'"Keep your panties dry till the big guy's hard."'
Tell you what,
Greg, why don't we go 50/50 on net profits over a million units?
Oh!
Yeah, I forgot I was talking to a business guru.
What the hell.
Nice doing business with you.
'I'm killing these guys!'
Greg really liked the draft.
He had no notes at all, which was pretty sweet.
He was even fine about me missing the deadline.
Right... But how much are they paying you upfront?
Publishing isn't an upfront situation these days.
You've got to put in seed money for the first run.
They're asking you to pay?
It's a totally standard deal for first-time authors.
But the poor guys, I'm absolutely killing them on the big-unit deals.
Does JK Rowling pay to have Harry Potter books published?
That's different. Harry Potter books are about wizards, for children.
My book is about pharaohs, for adults.
Right. OK...
In fact, it was the unluckiest day
of JK Rowling's life when she got picked up by a publishing house.
Greg from British London
was saying, imagine if she'd self-published!
"British London"? Doesn't that sound a bit...
Too patriotic for your liking?
..made up?
So what if it's made up? Do you think Penguin was founded by a penguin?
In a sense, everything's made up.
I don't like the way these percentiles are looking at me.
Right, well, thanks for that, Hans,
but I really wouldn't worry. It's a gentleman's agreement.
Well, it looks like you've agreed these gentlemen can arse-fuck you.
Just, erm...
be careful. OK, mate?
'Jeremy is the voice of reason,
'and Super Hans is giving me legal advice.
'Doesn't feel great.'
I went to see Trish and Simon and everyone in the new office.
'Tch! No doubt their office is a converted warehouse
'full of smoothie makers and basketball hoops
'and rim jobs.'
I was like, "Fuck it. Why not?"
So I handed in my notice at the council yesterday!
Oh... Wow, that's...
amazing.
I know!
Jeremy, you've failed.
She's done exactly what she wanted.
I tried, but it's difficult.
Spirit crushing comes much more naturally to you.
This won't work.
You should have told her the truth. Dreams crumble to dust.
Your motto. You should put that on your business cards.
Anyway, chill out. If you love something, set it free.
What if I love a black mamba? Should I set that free?
Is that what you and Sting want,
a venomous killer loose on the streets of south London?
So, thinking about the book launch...
cash bar, but I might provide nuts.
Salted or dry roasted, though?
Salted are classic - everyone loves salt...
but expensive in the quantities I want to provide.
It's tricky.
Aren't London British paying?
British London. No, not in the current climate.
OK, time to hit go, make the transfer,
let BL fire up the printing press.
Mark?! Ј2,000?
The situation in Denmark is deteriorating. That's a fact.
Ink shortage. But if I move quickly, BL might be able to get me some.
They have a guy in Hamburg.
'Oh, my God, he's actually going through with it.
'He's cracking his nest egg and frying it up
'to make these arseholes a delicious breakfast.'
Hey!
Mark, I can't let you do this.
Return my mouse, Jeremy. That's my property.
You're censoring me. I'm calling Amnesty.
Go ahead. I'm sure they'll be fascinated,
but the mouse is staying with me. I'm doing an intervention on you.
All you're doing is preventing an important work of world literature
from going to press.
Why don't you "intervene" on Ian McEwan or Tony Parsons?
I'm going to say two words that you don't want to hear.
"Vanity publishing."
You're just jealous because I'm a successful author
and you're an unemployed dope smoker
who, even after 20 years of doing it, still can't roll very good joints.
I just think you need to be realistic about your targets,
aims and expectations.
Are you trying to life-coach me?!
Maybe.
I'm the one who should be doing an intervention - on you,
because, my friend, you are a vanity life coach.
My course is a proper qualification...
it's not a pretend book from a pretend publisher's
getting printed on pretend paper.
Yeah, well, even if you complete your ludicrously short course,
you're never going to be a life coach.
It's just another dream,
like being a pop star or a front bottom inspector.
That wasn't a career, that was a T-shirt!
Yeah, well, a front bottom inspector
is still a more realistic career option for you than life coach.
I threw that T-shirt out months ago. You know why?
Because it was tasteless.
I was embarrassed to wear it in public.
That's the Jeremy you're dealing with now.
That's how much I've grown as an individual.
Hey, Jeremy, do you want to life-coach this
into the washing-up bowl?
'You're not stopping my book launch.
'Kneel before Pharaoh Corrigan and his pyramid of peanuts.'
So, er, listen,
what the hell's going on?
How do you mean?
Everyone. Everyone passed.
Is it some sort of administrative error?
I mean, Hillary, whose UKIP membership card
fell out of her purse?
Are you really suggesting people go to her to get coaching?
Is my certificate different? Is it better?
You don't have a certificate.
What do I get? A couch?
Or... a conch?
Or a cr...
Not a crown. That would be... odd.
I can't put my reputation on the line by certifying you
as a life coach.
What?
You have a poorly developed ego system and sexual issues.
Oh, yeah?
OK, well, let me give you a little tip about foreplay.
You were waggling around on my guy
like it was the cranking handle on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
You're a sexual pervert, Jeremy.
You mean in a bad way?
Cos of what I said?
Yes. It was disgusting.
Oh, Mrs Severed Cocks thinks I'm disgusting?
Cut all my hair off and eat it?
I was busking. I was vibing.
You were cutting things off.
I thought hair. I mean, it's not cocks.
That was just a mad image,
whereas destroying and consuming my beautiful hair...
I thought there were no boundaries.
There are no boundaries. Within limits.
Limits. Right. Well, I'm appealing.
I'm gonna launch an appeal to the... British Life Coaching Confederation.
And if such a body exists,
then you're gonna be in big, big trouble.
Hm!
Hey, Mark.
How's it, er...?
Oh, er...
Good. Yeah, great.
A few errata. Always going to be a few errata.
Yeah, yeah, always.
Er, it's gonna be a good night, I reckon.
Yeah. So, Jez, listen,
I'm just going to go home out the fire escape or the window.
But would you ask the pub man if I can have my deposit back?
And would you tell everyone I've made a horrible mistake? Goodbye.
Mark?
They misspelt my name, Jeremy.
Mark Crorigan.
But hey, it looks good, man.
I mean, some of it's difficult to read,
cos the text kind of disappears into the binding, but...
They're print-outs, Jeremy, they're not books.
They're just print-outs.
'Every fibre of my being wants to scream, "I told you so."
'But I'm a life coach now. Sort of.'
Greg said he really liked Chapter Fourteen,
the Nile irrigation/viral marketing comparison.
Why would he leave that out?
I don't know, Mark.
Maybe it's just one of those things.
One of those things where a cherished dream is smashed into your face
and you're humiliated in front of everyone you know?
Hi, Pam...
Exactly, one of those things.
Why don't you do a reading from your book?
Oh, no, I don't think people would really want to...
Oh, go on, please!
Do it in your Egyptian accent, like you did in bed the other night.
That was so funny.
I really don't...
You can do it, mate.
Hi.
Hi, everyone. Thanks...
thanks for coming. Erm...
I-I just wanted to say...
vanity, all is vanity.
Like Pharaoh Khufu, I have built a great tomb.
But tonight I'm not going to bury you in it with me.
Er, except with the admittedly generous
mounds of peanuts that you'll see I've provided.
No, tonight, I just want to say that this book...
is a disaster.
It's a travesty.
It's proof...
of a broken promise.
But I want to announce here
that I will be aggressively pursuing British London
in the small claims court,
therefore proving the wisdom of my seventh chapter,
Make UK Company Law Into Your Anubis.
Or, as the BL spell-check has rendered it,
Make UK Company Law Your Omnibus.
It was OK, wasn't it?
It was a weird and uplifting night of recriminations
and complicated legal debate.
And, Jeremy, I wanted to apologise
for saying your life coaching was bullshit.
Water under the bridge, as Simon & Garfunkel used to sing.
'Not even going to correct him. That's how big I've become.
'I'm enormous, like the sun god Ra.'
OK. Wow. Right. This must be the only publishing house
that looks like it could also do you an MoT.
I wanted to give you something, mate.
Greg?
Mm.
Here we are, hot off the presses.
Oh, my God!
Usbourne with a U and everything!
You got my name right, Mark!
I also do business cards.
You may have failed the course, but you can be a life coach anyway.
This is amazing.
Ooh, stars! Four stars! What are the stars for?
Well, I just thought you deserved some stars.
Only four, though?
I thought about doing five, but I didn't want to push it.
Fair do's.
But I did put "Grade - excellent",
cos I think you'll make an excellent life coach.
Thank you, Mark.
God, look at it!
Approved by the British Life Coaching Confederation. Fancy!
And the great thing is that the genuine document
is so worthless that there's very little chance of the forgery
being detected.
No-one will ever know! I can't be found out!
See you in court, Greg.
Look, Mark,
I know this place isn't great. I'm in-between offices.
But BL is for real, and I really did love your book,
and you're a great writer.
Yeah, pull the other one, it's got bells on.
You're a talent, Mark. I'm building a list.
I've been speaking to Jeanette Winterson. Apparently,
she's not happy over at Vintage.
I want to publish your next book. What's it about?
Well, not that it's any of your beeswax, but I was thinking about
doing something on Napoleon and the internet.
Now, that sounds amazing.
How about that and a second run of BS Of The Ps,
correct the errata, no upfront payment.
You would just put in a small bridging loan.
Come on!
What do you think, Jez? He couldn't do it twice.
No, that would be impossible!
Come on, mate, I'm life-coaching you out of here.