Still Game (2002–…): Season 8, Episode 2 - Grim Up North - full transcript
After news spreads that a creepy new undertaker, Sheathing, has moved into Craiglang, nobody quite knows what to make of him. Isa, who's heard the stories, spreads the fear amongst the residents that he's the grim reaper.
This programme contains some
strong language
Iain Duncan Sheathing.
Really?
Thank you.
Craiglang.
CLOCK CHIMES
Finally.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
Pickled onion - here we go.
Oh...
what's that wee noise you're making?
"Pick me, Boabby! I'm Smoky Bacon!"
Here.
That's auld McCleary the undertaker
planted the day, eh?
ALL: Oh, aye.
JACK EXHALES
He buried a few. Aye, aye.
Mind he buried Capper Flynn?
Aye, the Scotland player.
There was hundreds of people
at that funeral.
He made a wreath
into the shape of a football.
It was lovely, aye.
That's right.
VICTOR LAUGHS
That wee boy blootered
it against the graveyard wall.
That's right! Cos when it burst,
it was like a spring day.
Right, finish up, guys.
Aw, come on, Boabby.
One mair round. Naw.
You've had your time. Do your
talkin' while you're walkin'.
Or, in your case,
do your mumbling while you're
stumbling.
Boabby, when was the last time
we had a lock-in, eh?
About eight months ago.
Winston was full o' it
and demanded a shot of tequila,
then started doing the Macaroni.
It's the Macarena.
You spewed everywhere.
It was definitely macaroni.
Hadn't even chewed it all up,
you greedy, fat bastard.
Come on, Boabby. Shut the door
and set us up another one, eh?
A man's passed.
Right.
One, then oot.
THEY CHEER
TRANSLATION:
I'm with a customer!
And what can I do for you?
SHOP BUZZER
That's a shame about
auld Mr McCleary buried.
It's a queer thing
when an undertaker passes.
To think he's buried
thousands of people in his life
and then dies alone, in a simple
grave
wi' nae fanfare.
TRANSLATION:
What's she saying?
She's saying it's a terrible
business.
Naw, she said something about
Idi Amin.
Naw, she said...the place is
needing a clean.
Right.
Ach, well. He'll be missed.
Who misses an undertaker?
I'll miss him! He did a terrific
service.
I fully expected him to live long
enough to plant me.
And noo he's away,
who's gonnae deal with Craiglang's
dead?
Who indeed, Isa?
No-one will be able to die.
Craiglang will become
a village of the walking dead.
Ancient zombies creepin' aboot
shouting,
"Please bury me!"
No change there, then.
Ach, Navid.
Oh, listen to yourself, Isa.
You think when the baker dies,
there's no bread?
Or when the butcher dies,
there's no chops?
Or when...
Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen dies,
there's no decorating?
The world keeps turning.
TRANSLATION:
Nearly got it. Give me a second.
Harry Belafonte!
BASTARD!
Heid count.
Where's Winston?
He's in the toilet having a
Donald...
Duck? ..Trump. Oh.
Right. Oot.
That's it. Boabby, gies a minute.
Harry Belafonte?
I mean, I am the Word Wheel king,
here.
You are the Wagon Wheel king,
my friend. Shut up!
Right. Here's a good game.
Who is the most famous person
you've ever met?
And they can be dead or alive. Nice.
OK, here's your wee starter.
Myself and this good man here
met Charlton Heston
in this very city. How about that?
What was Charlton Heston doing in
Glesga?
He was doing a cookery
demonstration.
In John Lewis's.
Do yous no mean the baldy bastard
chef Heston Blumenthal?
THEY MUTTER
That's who it was, aye.
You couple of hauf-wits.
THEY LAUGH
Well, he is still famous, eh?
Mary Berry?
Whit? Where was this?
BP garage.
She was rattlin' intae
a cauld Ginsters sausage roll.
HE CHOMPS
Peter Powers.
Who's Peter Powers?
Hypnotist. Pavilion.
Oh, right.
So he's hypnotised you, told you
you were a prick,
and you've no' been able to snap oot
it?
THEY LAUGH
Here, the game's a bogey.
Here comes the ace card.
I was in Henderson's
a couple of years back, right?
Good 20 minutes I'd been in the
queue,
and who comes through the door?
Wan Direction.
THEY SCOFF
I'm telling yous!
All five of them jumped the queue.
"We want beefy bakes
"and bottles of Irn-Bru cos
we're in Glasgow." I was like that,
I telt them, "Listen, you,
you talentless wee fannies!
"If you get served before me,
there's only wan direction you're
going,
"and it's oot that bastard windae!"
Right. That's enough.
The polis are gonnae be
batterin' that door shortly.
Oh, haud on, Boabby.
Eric, how are you no pipin' up?
Och, I'm just enjoying listening.
You're the oldest wan
amongst us. You must have bumped
into a few, eh?
Gina Lollobrigida.
You bumped into Gina Lollobrigida?
Naw! I pumped intae
Gina Lollobrigida.
Oh! Eric wins.
Met her, charmed her, pumped her.
Away and don't talk a lot of shite,
Eric.
Eric, you bedded a movie star?
Aye.
Right.
What's everybody wantin'?
Tequila! ALL: No.
Right.
Get it telt.
Rome, summer.
The year 1958.
OWL HOOTS
Well, aul' Eric, eh?
Cuttin' aboot Rome, 1958,
and there she is -
Gina Lollobrigida.
And he says, "Hello, I'm Eric.
I'm a randy sailor.
"Would you care for your hole, hen?"
"Hen"!
THEY CHUCKLE
Come on!
"Would you care for your hole,
Signorina, hen?"
Oh, aye, aye. And she's like that...
COD ITALIAN ACCENT:
"Och, it's nae danger!
"Just pull-a my scanties doon
and fire right into me."
Pish. Aye.
He's definitely losing the place.
It's been going on for a while.
Aye. He's always had that patter,
though, in't he?
He telt me he ran into Frank Sinatra
in the Phoenix Bar in Dundee.
That's right. And I met Sammy Davis
Jr doon the Barras
buying a Calor gas fire.
Aye. He's a liar.
He's cracking up at the rate of
knots.
This cold'll be the death...of...us.
OWL HOOTS
What's the matter with you?
VICTOR MUTTERS
JACK: Oh!
Come on. Let's get away fae
this Lee Van Cleef bastard.
Aye.
DID you see Sammy Davis buying a gas
fire doon the Barras?
Naw.
WIND WHOOSHES
SHOP BUZZER
SHE PANTS
Oh, my.
Oh, my! Oh, Jesus, Isa.
What's the matter with you?
You look like you've seen a ghost.
Worse than that!
A junkie? Naw.
Have you seen Winston wi' no clothes
on?
No!
Sheathing, the undertaker.
Fae Park Mill? Aye.
So what?
He's taking over auld man McCleary's
business.
He's the new undertaker!
Good.
It's no' good, Navid!
It's no' good at all!
You've no' heard the stories.
Right. Off you go.
They say whoever he touches
dies within seven days.
Hopefully, he'll come in here
and touch Meena.
HE LAUGHS
TRANSLATION:
You think I'm being stupid,
don't you?
No, Isa.
See the village where I lived?
There was great poverty and battles
and sickness.
No, this was before Govan,
you halfwit! I'm talking about
India. See, the problem was,
the village couldn't prosper.
People were too busy
looking after the sick.
So, as cruel as it seemed,
they called for Cretanta.
Cretanta?
He was a doctor...of sorts.
He would come on request,
perform a chant,
pass his hands over the stricken,
and moments later...they were gone.
Like a witch doctor?
No, like a criminal.
They found out later he was
injecting the poor bastards
with window cleaner.
He was basically an Indian
Dr Crippen.
So what's your point, Navid?
My point is, Isa,
I just think that your story
is a pile of fu...
..kin' bollocks.
Made-up pish.
I'm telling ye! Last year,
wee Connie Galbraith dies.
She got into bother at the swimming
and the nae-user lifeguard
was oot havin' a smoke.
By the time he got back, poor Connie
had mair water in her than
Loch Lomond.
Droont! There was a huge enquiry.
The boy's still working there,
but he's promised to stick to
the vaping noo.
Anyroad, I was at the funeral.
What an affair that was.
Oh! A right old-fashioned do,
you know,
and a huge amount of people.
Anyway, there she was -
top hat, cane, the lot.
She even...
What you doing, Winston?
I'm looking for your point.
THEY LAUGH
That's what I'm telling ye!
He reaches oot his haun'...
..and touches Raymond McCall
on the shoulder,
to gie him comfort, like.
Well, Raymond was a fit man.
He never smoked, he never drank.
He used to run the half-marathon,
mind? And?
Stone deid on the Wednesday.
Death has come to Craiglang.
Wait a minute. How old was Raymond?
Eh...
he'd a been about 56.
Well, the life expectancy
in Park Mill's about 29.
That's a good innings for that
shit-hole!
THEY LAUGH
Well, all I'm saying is,
you don't want Sheathing fingering
ye.
No' even after a few sherries?
Oh!
DOOR CREAKS
WIND WHOOSHES
BOABBY: Hello.
What can I get you?
Rum.
Dark Heart.
Ice. Right.
I'm the new funeral director
here in Craiglang.
Well...
..if you've come in here to tout
your trade,
you've just hit the mother lode.
You wheesh!
Anyway, just thought I'd pop in
to introduce myself.
Just, er, leave my card.
If ever, well...
..you know.
ICE CUBES CLINK
COINS CLUNK
FRUIT MACHINE BEEPS
Any luck?
Aye! It's just aboot tae pay oot.
I hope so. Oh, cheers.
Well...we'll be seeing you, then.
Oh, that's for certain.
See you now.
DOOR CREAKS
Creepy, lanky Addams Family bastard.
That's funny.
It was cold when he came in!
Noo, it's all warm. Well...
..least he never touched any of us.
That's all I'm saying.
Right, wrap it, Isa.
Let's talk about something else, eh?
Aye.
Here, you'll love this, hen.
Eric, tell Isa your story about
Gina Lollobrigida.
Eric.
Eric!
COINS CLATTER
Poor old Eric, eh?
He'll be sadly missed.
Aye. He will indeed.
Tae Eric. Aye.
Dear auld friend.
Isa's at it full-tilt.
At what? Och.
She's going roon' the whole of
Craiglang
telling everyone that Sheathing
undertaker fella's the Reaper.
She's got everybody shiting
themselves.
It's a load of garbage.
Here, tell me this.
In a lifetime, on average -
average, mind -
how many times
do you think the heart beats?
Oof, I don't know.
Must be up in the thousands.
JACK SNORTS
Thousands. Away you go,
you hauf-wit.
No, it's 100,000 times a day.
Thousands?! That widnae gie you
enough time to boil an egg.
You'd be dipping your wee soldier
in there,
heart attack, that'd be you
finished. Game over.
Goodnight, Vienna.
Naw, over the course of a lifetime,
the heart will beat
two-and-a-half billion times.
Aye, well, I've rattled a few
thousand
listening to this story, Jack.
What's your point?
My point is, once you've had
all your heartbeats, that's it.
Your time's up. And that is what
happened to Eric.
Eric didnae die because he was
touched by the hand of Death.
Aye. Reaper nonsense.
You cannae be walkin' aboot
waiting on somebody putting a bony
finger on your shoulder
marking you oot for death.
Eat what you want.
Smoke all you like.
Booze it up like an alkie.
It disnae matter.
When your time's up, your time's up.
Aye, well said.
Spot of lunch? Aye.
WHIRRING
What are you doing?
I said, what are you doing?
Two smoothies.
Kale, spinach, cucumber,
and a raw egg.
R-Raw? Just like Rocky.
To be safe.
T-To be safe, aye.
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT
What is it you're calling it?
The Insurance.
The Insurance.
That's... Yep.
Right.
Sheathing the Grim Reaper?
A load of pish.
Aye, Eric was due to go, eh?
The mind was...drifting.
85.
Aye. And then there was all the
lies. Eh?
HE SCOFFS
Gina Lollobrigida.
Be great if it was true, eh?
Oh, aye.
Widnae be all that difficult
to find oot. I mean,
what year did he say it happened?
Eh, summer...1958.
And what was the name of his ship?
That's easy - HMS Corunna.
Well, I'm gonnae get to the bottom
of this. Let me make a few calls.
You make a few calls once we get to
the bottom of these cans.
To Eric. To Eric.
Do you no'...fancy a wee go
on the fruit machine? Hm?
No.
I've not got any change.
Tam!
Hi, Boabby.
You love the puggie.
WHISPERS: Play the puggie.
Nah.
Just got a fresh pint there.
Does naebody in here
want to play that puggie?
No, I'm OK.
THEY MURMUR
Look, I'm as sorry about Eric as you
lot.
But I am trying to run a business
here,
and what the shit's this?!
THEY MUTTER IN PROTEST
It's a pub! It's no' Lady Diana's
bastarding grave!
Boabby's no' to blame here,
everybody.
It's that undertaker, Sheathing.
Oh, Isa, gie it a rest.
Don't start all that pish again,
Isa. It's nae use.
BELL RINGS
I know you're all upset about
your good friend Eric passing...
..but Isa's fear might not be
unwarranted.
I have mates in Park Mill that used
to hurry by his funeral shop.
But hear this -
there have been loads of depictions
of Death -
the Norse Valkyries, Thanatos -
that's Greek.
But one of the biggest icons
is the Grim Reaper.
The Black Death pandemic, right?
14th century, 20 million deid.
A fear of death spread throughout
society.
Is it any wonder that a town full of
pensioners
in the twilight of their years
should fear such a figure?
How we are gonnae get rid of him?
You don't need to get rid of him.
He disnae exist.
Sheathing's just flesh and blood -
like you and me.
DOOR CREAKS
WIND WHOOSHES
Mr Sheathing.
Rum.
Dark Heart.
MACHINE BEEPS ERRATICALLY
Looks like your fruit machine's
deid.
Anyway, the reason I came in is...
One touch on the shoulder.
Seconds later, Eric was away.
Taken!
A lot of Bram Stoker pish.
I'm telling ye!
If he tried to touch me,
I'd take one of these size 10s,
I'd part his Reaper baws
and I'd say tae him,
"You feeling grim noo?"
SHE SCOFFS
Mrs Drennan!
SWING CREAKS
Can I have a word?
Don't let him touch me!
It's no' my time!
Take her! She's got high blood
pressure!
HE MUTTERS
SHE PANTS
Oh! Oh...
Oh, Boabby! Boabby, help me!
Whit?
Oh, Boabby! Oh, Boabby,
for God's sake, help me!
Boabby, he's coming for me!
The Reaper's coming! Mrs Drennan.
Oh, Boabby, don't let him touch me,
son!
Right, that's enough, ye daft old
bun.
You know what this is aboot, don't
you?
People roon' here have got a mad
notion
that you're the Grim Reaper.
Wan touch and you're deid.
No, no, no.
All I'm after is...
Isa, look at this.
HE IMITATES EERIE MOANING
That's me deid noo.
Oh...
HE HITS THE GROUND
SHE WHIMPERS
Oh, my!
Open, ya bas.
Jack!
Oh, Victor!
Victor! Something terrible's
happened!
Open your door!
Isa, for God's sake.
Look at the state of you, woman.
What's the matter?
Death is nigh. What's the
matter? Boabby's deid!
Whit?! Aye!
Sheathing touched him.
Death is nigh.
What do you mean, he touched him?
Boabby got the undertaker to rub
him,
and doon he went!
He rubbed him and went doon on him?
Naw, ya hauf-wit!
Boabby collapsed! He's deid!
Death is nigh! What the hell is it
you're babbling aboot?
It's an anagram of Sheathing's name!
Look - "Death is nigh."
Oh, for f...
LIFT BELL DINGS
DOORS SLAM
PHONE RINGS
Hello? He's at your door.
SLOW KNOCKING AT DOOR
SLOW KNOCKING
Eh...
Sorry! I can't come to the door
at the moment!
I'm tending to my...cat.
It's got a sore paw.
Jack's in, but...
..and he's not got any animals
to attend tae!
Bastard!
What have you done that for,
you back-stabbing,
throw-me-under-the-bus, big, lanky
bastard, ye?!
I'm sorry, Jack. I panicked and I
shat it.
That's him come for you noo.
Open it and see what he wants.
SLOW KNOCKING
Aye, watch me.
PHONE RINGS
Mr Jarvis, can I have a word?
You can have two! Piss off.
Will you open the door, please?
So you can touch me up and kill me?
Naw!
Mr Sheathing, come away in.
Isa, darlin'! No! You've still got
a couple of good years left in you!
DOOR BANGS SHUT
Right.
Time to staun' up and be counted.
All right. Chap the door.
How have I to chap the door?
That would mean I've summoned him.
Hm. Right, we'll chap at the same
time, right?
One, two, three.
You bastard!
JACK LAUGHS
Noo you know what it feels like to
be underneath the bus.
What is that?
Garlic paste.
Didn't have any bulbs.
What is it you're gonnae dae, baste
him?
LOCK CLICKS
Relax, boys. It's fine.
Come in.
SHE LAUGHS
Say hello.
Say hello.
BOTH: Hello.
Hello. Boabby phoned.
He fainted and bumped his heid.
He's all right.
Well, we're glad to hear that.
But what's big Lurch doing
going round all the doors?
Well, I apologise for the lateness
of the hour,
but I was getting desperate.
I was trying to get hold of all yous
so you could tell me about Eric.
The man had no family -
I was going to do his eulogy,
but every time I approached you,
you scarpered.
Aye, well, maybe you could talk
in your eulogy about
how you killed him!
He was 85.
The man had a bad heart.
He's no' the Reaper.
He's a bit creepy, but he's no'
Death.
Thanks, Isa.
Er, eulogy?
Well, he was a good footballer.
He was in the Navy. And the
Fire Service.
He was a brave man, Eric, you know.
There was a big fire in a department
store in Glasgow, this is going way
back...
It is in death that we know life.
It is in the weaving that we know
love.
It is in the evening of our days
that we truly see the gentle...
Bit of bad news.
Aye! Eric's deid!
Of course it's bad news!
It would be worse if the lid opened
and he walked oot.
No, listen, it's about
that Gina Lollobrigida thing.
Aye? What about it?
Well, I'm sad to announce it was
bollocks.
The auld bugger made it all up.
She was in Rome in 1958, and so was
he,
but they missed each other
by about three weeks.
The HMS Corunna was docked in
Rosyth.
Game's a bogey.
Aw, shit.
..and was blessed indeed with
many friends
and a great and solid community
round about him.
And although he was a single man,
he knew the love of a woman.
I wasn't sure whether to mention
this,
but in my capacity as the undertaker
here in Craiglang,
it is my duty to prepare the
deceased for the afterlife.
And it was then that we discovered
a letter in Eric's breast pocket
which I think you might find
interesting.
"My darling Eric.
"It was wonderful for us to meet
and have those few nights together.
"You are my sweetheart -
a true stallion.
THEY CHUCKLE AND MURMUR
"I shall never forget us
sitting on the beach
"with our toes in the water,
"your ship waiting to take you away
in the distance."
SHE SNIFFS
"Oh, how I wish our lives
could be different
"and for us to be together.
"I will always love you.
"Gina."
ALL: Gina?
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT
Hello? Hello!
Lovely service. Aye, it was indeed.
Very moving.
Did you know Eric?
I knew Eric, all right.
That was my letter.
Gina.
I had an ice cream cafe
in North Queensferry
and Eric's boat docked there
one summer.
In Rosyth. Yes.
We'd a bit of a fling, you might
call it.
Your cafe...it was underneath
the Forth Road Bridge?
That's right. They built it that
summer. 1958.
Eric made up a name for me.
Which was?
Gina's Lollies Forth Road...
BOTH: ..Bridgida.
Christ.
JACK: What a boy, eh?
VICTOR LAUGHS
A stallion, she called him.
What a hero.
Oh, Winston. Jack, Victor.
And, eh...this is?
This is Agnes.
Oh! BOTH: Hello, Agnes.
Ooh...
What a week.
strong language
Iain Duncan Sheathing.
Really?
Thank you.
Craiglang.
CLOCK CHIMES
Finally.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
Pickled onion - here we go.
Oh...
what's that wee noise you're making?
"Pick me, Boabby! I'm Smoky Bacon!"
Here.
That's auld McCleary the undertaker
planted the day, eh?
ALL: Oh, aye.
JACK EXHALES
He buried a few. Aye, aye.
Mind he buried Capper Flynn?
Aye, the Scotland player.
There was hundreds of people
at that funeral.
He made a wreath
into the shape of a football.
It was lovely, aye.
That's right.
VICTOR LAUGHS
That wee boy blootered
it against the graveyard wall.
That's right! Cos when it burst,
it was like a spring day.
Right, finish up, guys.
Aw, come on, Boabby.
One mair round. Naw.
You've had your time. Do your
talkin' while you're walkin'.
Or, in your case,
do your mumbling while you're
stumbling.
Boabby, when was the last time
we had a lock-in, eh?
About eight months ago.
Winston was full o' it
and demanded a shot of tequila,
then started doing the Macaroni.
It's the Macarena.
You spewed everywhere.
It was definitely macaroni.
Hadn't even chewed it all up,
you greedy, fat bastard.
Come on, Boabby. Shut the door
and set us up another one, eh?
A man's passed.
Right.
One, then oot.
THEY CHEER
TRANSLATION:
I'm with a customer!
And what can I do for you?
SHOP BUZZER
That's a shame about
auld Mr McCleary buried.
It's a queer thing
when an undertaker passes.
To think he's buried
thousands of people in his life
and then dies alone, in a simple
grave
wi' nae fanfare.
TRANSLATION:
What's she saying?
She's saying it's a terrible
business.
Naw, she said something about
Idi Amin.
Naw, she said...the place is
needing a clean.
Right.
Ach, well. He'll be missed.
Who misses an undertaker?
I'll miss him! He did a terrific
service.
I fully expected him to live long
enough to plant me.
And noo he's away,
who's gonnae deal with Craiglang's
dead?
Who indeed, Isa?
No-one will be able to die.
Craiglang will become
a village of the walking dead.
Ancient zombies creepin' aboot
shouting,
"Please bury me!"
No change there, then.
Ach, Navid.
Oh, listen to yourself, Isa.
You think when the baker dies,
there's no bread?
Or when the butcher dies,
there's no chops?
Or when...
Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen dies,
there's no decorating?
The world keeps turning.
TRANSLATION:
Nearly got it. Give me a second.
Harry Belafonte!
BASTARD!
Heid count.
Where's Winston?
He's in the toilet having a
Donald...
Duck? ..Trump. Oh.
Right. Oot.
That's it. Boabby, gies a minute.
Harry Belafonte?
I mean, I am the Word Wheel king,
here.
You are the Wagon Wheel king,
my friend. Shut up!
Right. Here's a good game.
Who is the most famous person
you've ever met?
And they can be dead or alive. Nice.
OK, here's your wee starter.
Myself and this good man here
met Charlton Heston
in this very city. How about that?
What was Charlton Heston doing in
Glesga?
He was doing a cookery
demonstration.
In John Lewis's.
Do yous no mean the baldy bastard
chef Heston Blumenthal?
THEY MUTTER
That's who it was, aye.
You couple of hauf-wits.
THEY LAUGH
Well, he is still famous, eh?
Mary Berry?
Whit? Where was this?
BP garage.
She was rattlin' intae
a cauld Ginsters sausage roll.
HE CHOMPS
Peter Powers.
Who's Peter Powers?
Hypnotist. Pavilion.
Oh, right.
So he's hypnotised you, told you
you were a prick,
and you've no' been able to snap oot
it?
THEY LAUGH
Here, the game's a bogey.
Here comes the ace card.
I was in Henderson's
a couple of years back, right?
Good 20 minutes I'd been in the
queue,
and who comes through the door?
Wan Direction.
THEY SCOFF
I'm telling yous!
All five of them jumped the queue.
"We want beefy bakes
"and bottles of Irn-Bru cos
we're in Glasgow." I was like that,
I telt them, "Listen, you,
you talentless wee fannies!
"If you get served before me,
there's only wan direction you're
going,
"and it's oot that bastard windae!"
Right. That's enough.
The polis are gonnae be
batterin' that door shortly.
Oh, haud on, Boabby.
Eric, how are you no pipin' up?
Och, I'm just enjoying listening.
You're the oldest wan
amongst us. You must have bumped
into a few, eh?
Gina Lollobrigida.
You bumped into Gina Lollobrigida?
Naw! I pumped intae
Gina Lollobrigida.
Oh! Eric wins.
Met her, charmed her, pumped her.
Away and don't talk a lot of shite,
Eric.
Eric, you bedded a movie star?
Aye.
Right.
What's everybody wantin'?
Tequila! ALL: No.
Right.
Get it telt.
Rome, summer.
The year 1958.
OWL HOOTS
Well, aul' Eric, eh?
Cuttin' aboot Rome, 1958,
and there she is -
Gina Lollobrigida.
And he says, "Hello, I'm Eric.
I'm a randy sailor.
"Would you care for your hole, hen?"
"Hen"!
THEY CHUCKLE
Come on!
"Would you care for your hole,
Signorina, hen?"
Oh, aye, aye. And she's like that...
COD ITALIAN ACCENT:
"Och, it's nae danger!
"Just pull-a my scanties doon
and fire right into me."
Pish. Aye.
He's definitely losing the place.
It's been going on for a while.
Aye. He's always had that patter,
though, in't he?
He telt me he ran into Frank Sinatra
in the Phoenix Bar in Dundee.
That's right. And I met Sammy Davis
Jr doon the Barras
buying a Calor gas fire.
Aye. He's a liar.
He's cracking up at the rate of
knots.
This cold'll be the death...of...us.
OWL HOOTS
What's the matter with you?
VICTOR MUTTERS
JACK: Oh!
Come on. Let's get away fae
this Lee Van Cleef bastard.
Aye.
DID you see Sammy Davis buying a gas
fire doon the Barras?
Naw.
WIND WHOOSHES
SHOP BUZZER
SHE PANTS
Oh, my.
Oh, my! Oh, Jesus, Isa.
What's the matter with you?
You look like you've seen a ghost.
Worse than that!
A junkie? Naw.
Have you seen Winston wi' no clothes
on?
No!
Sheathing, the undertaker.
Fae Park Mill? Aye.
So what?
He's taking over auld man McCleary's
business.
He's the new undertaker!
Good.
It's no' good, Navid!
It's no' good at all!
You've no' heard the stories.
Right. Off you go.
They say whoever he touches
dies within seven days.
Hopefully, he'll come in here
and touch Meena.
HE LAUGHS
TRANSLATION:
You think I'm being stupid,
don't you?
No, Isa.
See the village where I lived?
There was great poverty and battles
and sickness.
No, this was before Govan,
you halfwit! I'm talking about
India. See, the problem was,
the village couldn't prosper.
People were too busy
looking after the sick.
So, as cruel as it seemed,
they called for Cretanta.
Cretanta?
He was a doctor...of sorts.
He would come on request,
perform a chant,
pass his hands over the stricken,
and moments later...they were gone.
Like a witch doctor?
No, like a criminal.
They found out later he was
injecting the poor bastards
with window cleaner.
He was basically an Indian
Dr Crippen.
So what's your point, Navid?
My point is, Isa,
I just think that your story
is a pile of fu...
..kin' bollocks.
Made-up pish.
I'm telling ye! Last year,
wee Connie Galbraith dies.
She got into bother at the swimming
and the nae-user lifeguard
was oot havin' a smoke.
By the time he got back, poor Connie
had mair water in her than
Loch Lomond.
Droont! There was a huge enquiry.
The boy's still working there,
but he's promised to stick to
the vaping noo.
Anyroad, I was at the funeral.
What an affair that was.
Oh! A right old-fashioned do,
you know,
and a huge amount of people.
Anyway, there she was -
top hat, cane, the lot.
She even...
What you doing, Winston?
I'm looking for your point.
THEY LAUGH
That's what I'm telling ye!
He reaches oot his haun'...
..and touches Raymond McCall
on the shoulder,
to gie him comfort, like.
Well, Raymond was a fit man.
He never smoked, he never drank.
He used to run the half-marathon,
mind? And?
Stone deid on the Wednesday.
Death has come to Craiglang.
Wait a minute. How old was Raymond?
Eh...
he'd a been about 56.
Well, the life expectancy
in Park Mill's about 29.
That's a good innings for that
shit-hole!
THEY LAUGH
Well, all I'm saying is,
you don't want Sheathing fingering
ye.
No' even after a few sherries?
Oh!
DOOR CREAKS
WIND WHOOSHES
BOABBY: Hello.
What can I get you?
Rum.
Dark Heart.
Ice. Right.
I'm the new funeral director
here in Craiglang.
Well...
..if you've come in here to tout
your trade,
you've just hit the mother lode.
You wheesh!
Anyway, just thought I'd pop in
to introduce myself.
Just, er, leave my card.
If ever, well...
..you know.
ICE CUBES CLINK
COINS CLUNK
FRUIT MACHINE BEEPS
Any luck?
Aye! It's just aboot tae pay oot.
I hope so. Oh, cheers.
Well...we'll be seeing you, then.
Oh, that's for certain.
See you now.
DOOR CREAKS
Creepy, lanky Addams Family bastard.
That's funny.
It was cold when he came in!
Noo, it's all warm. Well...
..least he never touched any of us.
That's all I'm saying.
Right, wrap it, Isa.
Let's talk about something else, eh?
Aye.
Here, you'll love this, hen.
Eric, tell Isa your story about
Gina Lollobrigida.
Eric.
Eric!
COINS CLATTER
Poor old Eric, eh?
He'll be sadly missed.
Aye. He will indeed.
Tae Eric. Aye.
Dear auld friend.
Isa's at it full-tilt.
At what? Och.
She's going roon' the whole of
Craiglang
telling everyone that Sheathing
undertaker fella's the Reaper.
She's got everybody shiting
themselves.
It's a load of garbage.
Here, tell me this.
In a lifetime, on average -
average, mind -
how many times
do you think the heart beats?
Oof, I don't know.
Must be up in the thousands.
JACK SNORTS
Thousands. Away you go,
you hauf-wit.
No, it's 100,000 times a day.
Thousands?! That widnae gie you
enough time to boil an egg.
You'd be dipping your wee soldier
in there,
heart attack, that'd be you
finished. Game over.
Goodnight, Vienna.
Naw, over the course of a lifetime,
the heart will beat
two-and-a-half billion times.
Aye, well, I've rattled a few
thousand
listening to this story, Jack.
What's your point?
My point is, once you've had
all your heartbeats, that's it.
Your time's up. And that is what
happened to Eric.
Eric didnae die because he was
touched by the hand of Death.
Aye. Reaper nonsense.
You cannae be walkin' aboot
waiting on somebody putting a bony
finger on your shoulder
marking you oot for death.
Eat what you want.
Smoke all you like.
Booze it up like an alkie.
It disnae matter.
When your time's up, your time's up.
Aye, well said.
Spot of lunch? Aye.
WHIRRING
What are you doing?
I said, what are you doing?
Two smoothies.
Kale, spinach, cucumber,
and a raw egg.
R-Raw? Just like Rocky.
To be safe.
T-To be safe, aye.
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT
What is it you're calling it?
The Insurance.
The Insurance.
That's... Yep.
Right.
Sheathing the Grim Reaper?
A load of pish.
Aye, Eric was due to go, eh?
The mind was...drifting.
85.
Aye. And then there was all the
lies. Eh?
HE SCOFFS
Gina Lollobrigida.
Be great if it was true, eh?
Oh, aye.
Widnae be all that difficult
to find oot. I mean,
what year did he say it happened?
Eh, summer...1958.
And what was the name of his ship?
That's easy - HMS Corunna.
Well, I'm gonnae get to the bottom
of this. Let me make a few calls.
You make a few calls once we get to
the bottom of these cans.
To Eric. To Eric.
Do you no'...fancy a wee go
on the fruit machine? Hm?
No.
I've not got any change.
Tam!
Hi, Boabby.
You love the puggie.
WHISPERS: Play the puggie.
Nah.
Just got a fresh pint there.
Does naebody in here
want to play that puggie?
No, I'm OK.
THEY MURMUR
Look, I'm as sorry about Eric as you
lot.
But I am trying to run a business
here,
and what the shit's this?!
THEY MUTTER IN PROTEST
It's a pub! It's no' Lady Diana's
bastarding grave!
Boabby's no' to blame here,
everybody.
It's that undertaker, Sheathing.
Oh, Isa, gie it a rest.
Don't start all that pish again,
Isa. It's nae use.
BELL RINGS
I know you're all upset about
your good friend Eric passing...
..but Isa's fear might not be
unwarranted.
I have mates in Park Mill that used
to hurry by his funeral shop.
But hear this -
there have been loads of depictions
of Death -
the Norse Valkyries, Thanatos -
that's Greek.
But one of the biggest icons
is the Grim Reaper.
The Black Death pandemic, right?
14th century, 20 million deid.
A fear of death spread throughout
society.
Is it any wonder that a town full of
pensioners
in the twilight of their years
should fear such a figure?
How we are gonnae get rid of him?
You don't need to get rid of him.
He disnae exist.
Sheathing's just flesh and blood -
like you and me.
DOOR CREAKS
WIND WHOOSHES
Mr Sheathing.
Rum.
Dark Heart.
MACHINE BEEPS ERRATICALLY
Looks like your fruit machine's
deid.
Anyway, the reason I came in is...
One touch on the shoulder.
Seconds later, Eric was away.
Taken!
A lot of Bram Stoker pish.
I'm telling ye!
If he tried to touch me,
I'd take one of these size 10s,
I'd part his Reaper baws
and I'd say tae him,
"You feeling grim noo?"
SHE SCOFFS
Mrs Drennan!
SWING CREAKS
Can I have a word?
Don't let him touch me!
It's no' my time!
Take her! She's got high blood
pressure!
HE MUTTERS
SHE PANTS
Oh! Oh...
Oh, Boabby! Boabby, help me!
Whit?
Oh, Boabby! Oh, Boabby,
for God's sake, help me!
Boabby, he's coming for me!
The Reaper's coming! Mrs Drennan.
Oh, Boabby, don't let him touch me,
son!
Right, that's enough, ye daft old
bun.
You know what this is aboot, don't
you?
People roon' here have got a mad
notion
that you're the Grim Reaper.
Wan touch and you're deid.
No, no, no.
All I'm after is...
Isa, look at this.
HE IMITATES EERIE MOANING
That's me deid noo.
Oh...
HE HITS THE GROUND
SHE WHIMPERS
Oh, my!
Open, ya bas.
Jack!
Oh, Victor!
Victor! Something terrible's
happened!
Open your door!
Isa, for God's sake.
Look at the state of you, woman.
What's the matter?
Death is nigh. What's the
matter? Boabby's deid!
Whit?! Aye!
Sheathing touched him.
Death is nigh.
What do you mean, he touched him?
Boabby got the undertaker to rub
him,
and doon he went!
He rubbed him and went doon on him?
Naw, ya hauf-wit!
Boabby collapsed! He's deid!
Death is nigh! What the hell is it
you're babbling aboot?
It's an anagram of Sheathing's name!
Look - "Death is nigh."
Oh, for f...
LIFT BELL DINGS
DOORS SLAM
PHONE RINGS
Hello? He's at your door.
SLOW KNOCKING AT DOOR
SLOW KNOCKING
Eh...
Sorry! I can't come to the door
at the moment!
I'm tending to my...cat.
It's got a sore paw.
Jack's in, but...
..and he's not got any animals
to attend tae!
Bastard!
What have you done that for,
you back-stabbing,
throw-me-under-the-bus, big, lanky
bastard, ye?!
I'm sorry, Jack. I panicked and I
shat it.
That's him come for you noo.
Open it and see what he wants.
SLOW KNOCKING
Aye, watch me.
PHONE RINGS
Mr Jarvis, can I have a word?
You can have two! Piss off.
Will you open the door, please?
So you can touch me up and kill me?
Naw!
Mr Sheathing, come away in.
Isa, darlin'! No! You've still got
a couple of good years left in you!
DOOR BANGS SHUT
Right.
Time to staun' up and be counted.
All right. Chap the door.
How have I to chap the door?
That would mean I've summoned him.
Hm. Right, we'll chap at the same
time, right?
One, two, three.
You bastard!
JACK LAUGHS
Noo you know what it feels like to
be underneath the bus.
What is that?
Garlic paste.
Didn't have any bulbs.
What is it you're gonnae dae, baste
him?
LOCK CLICKS
Relax, boys. It's fine.
Come in.
SHE LAUGHS
Say hello.
Say hello.
BOTH: Hello.
Hello. Boabby phoned.
He fainted and bumped his heid.
He's all right.
Well, we're glad to hear that.
But what's big Lurch doing
going round all the doors?
Well, I apologise for the lateness
of the hour,
but I was getting desperate.
I was trying to get hold of all yous
so you could tell me about Eric.
The man had no family -
I was going to do his eulogy,
but every time I approached you,
you scarpered.
Aye, well, maybe you could talk
in your eulogy about
how you killed him!
He was 85.
The man had a bad heart.
He's no' the Reaper.
He's a bit creepy, but he's no'
Death.
Thanks, Isa.
Er, eulogy?
Well, he was a good footballer.
He was in the Navy. And the
Fire Service.
He was a brave man, Eric, you know.
There was a big fire in a department
store in Glasgow, this is going way
back...
It is in death that we know life.
It is in the weaving that we know
love.
It is in the evening of our days
that we truly see the gentle...
Bit of bad news.
Aye! Eric's deid!
Of course it's bad news!
It would be worse if the lid opened
and he walked oot.
No, listen, it's about
that Gina Lollobrigida thing.
Aye? What about it?
Well, I'm sad to announce it was
bollocks.
The auld bugger made it all up.
She was in Rome in 1958, and so was
he,
but they missed each other
by about three weeks.
The HMS Corunna was docked in
Rosyth.
Game's a bogey.
Aw, shit.
..and was blessed indeed with
many friends
and a great and solid community
round about him.
And although he was a single man,
he knew the love of a woman.
I wasn't sure whether to mention
this,
but in my capacity as the undertaker
here in Craiglang,
it is my duty to prepare the
deceased for the afterlife.
And it was then that we discovered
a letter in Eric's breast pocket
which I think you might find
interesting.
"My darling Eric.
"It was wonderful for us to meet
and have those few nights together.
"You are my sweetheart -
a true stallion.
THEY CHUCKLE AND MURMUR
"I shall never forget us
sitting on the beach
"with our toes in the water,
"your ship waiting to take you away
in the distance."
SHE SNIFFS
"Oh, how I wish our lives
could be different
"and for us to be together.
"I will always love you.
"Gina."
ALL: Gina?
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT
Hello? Hello!
Lovely service. Aye, it was indeed.
Very moving.
Did you know Eric?
I knew Eric, all right.
That was my letter.
Gina.
I had an ice cream cafe
in North Queensferry
and Eric's boat docked there
one summer.
In Rosyth. Yes.
We'd a bit of a fling, you might
call it.
Your cafe...it was underneath
the Forth Road Bridge?
That's right. They built it that
summer. 1958.
Eric made up a name for me.
Which was?
Gina's Lollies Forth Road...
BOTH: ..Bridgida.
Christ.
JACK: What a boy, eh?
VICTOR LAUGHS
A stallion, she called him.
What a hero.
Oh, Winston. Jack, Victor.
And, eh...this is?
This is Agnes.
Oh! BOTH: Hello, Agnes.
Ooh...
What a week.