The Full Monty (2023–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Supply Chain Economics - full transcript

Come on, mate.

Bloody hell.

Jean. Ah!

Oh, girls' toilets, Dilip.

I, uh, I was hoping for a word with you.

Well, you can see I'm--
I'm a bit in the middle of it here.

All right. Well, uh
when, then?

We share an office.

Not that sort of word.

Dilip, we can't--

You can't be in here, Mr Amagee.



- Unless you're transitioning.

Unless you've had lifeguard training,
you two shouldn't be in here either.

But I'm busting.

We can't all use
one disabled toilet, miss.

There's a massive queue, and it's rank.

Mr Amagee, would you kindly escort
Tina and Sash to the staff loos, please?

Maybe later then.

All right, girls, let's get swimming.

No, you're all right, Dean.
That were just for other day.

Hey, unless you've been nicking again?

Nah. There's a padlock on the cage.

Oh! Checked, did you?

Happened to be passing.

You're a cheeky chuffer, you.



No, you did your sweeping,
so we're all square.

Just wondering.

Are you aware that half the jobs you do

are a breach of
health and safety regulations?

No, I'm not aware.

Says who?

Internet.

Same Internet that says
aliens blew up the Twin Towers?

Anything requiring ladders or machinery
is a two-man job.

Google it.

Blackmailed by a year eight.
Now I've seen it all.

Just here'll do, ta.

Are you sure? I thought you said
you lived at Hanover House.

Got stuff to do around here.

- Okey-dokes. Tara then.
- Tara.

Cheers for your help cleaning, lad.

Oh.

Dean--

Ah. Thank you.

Thank you.

You know, there's no shame
in having to use a food bank.

Says the bloke
who don't have to use a food bank.

I've had hard times,
and there were no food banks back then.

Most folk have at some point
in their lives.

And I've told ya,
nothing to be ashamed of.

Not if nobody finds out, it's not.

Nobody'll hear nowt from me.

Did I tell Dishy Dilip
you'd been nicking from the kitchens?

No.

Well then, I am a man of my word.

Do you call him Dishy Dilip and all?

Certainly not. Get in.

Listen, Des,
I were never gonna shoot that bloody dog.

Just an idea.
Bad idea, I admit. But I never would have.

Now look
let me know where you put the van.

I need it for work, love. All right?

Here we are, sir. Mental Health Unit.

You don't need to be mad to work here,
but it certainly helps.

- Hello?
- Hey, I've got some info about your dog.

Oh. Really?
Wait there. I'm coming.

Hi.

Uh, do you wanna come in?

- Hey, you're all right.
- Oh, no. Please, I won't--

Look, my dad's in Sheffield
and my mum's out.

There's nobody in.

- I thought you said there was nobody in.
- Oh, no, that's just the cleaner.

My mum's just a cleaner.

Oh, I-- No, I didn't mean-- Sorry.

Wow.

Oh, wh-- what's your name?

Does it matter?

Uh, look, before you ask for anything,

my dad is negotiating
with the kidnappers, so

Yeah, that's all bollocks. I should know.
I was the one who nicked her.

Oh.

Well is she all right?

- Chelsea!

Hello! Hello.

Hello.

Sorry about her fur.
It'll grow out, I guess.

Oh, it doesn't matter. Not at all. Hello.

- Huh. Pleased to see you, eh?
- Hey.

Thank you.

Oh, you really don't have to thank me.

We're thinking of puppies for her.

Cute.

Well, maybe you could--

- You know--
- What, me?

Oh, I don't have that sort of cash, do I?

Oh, you wouldn't have to pay.

Sweet, but they deserve better.
I mean, you should see where I live.

Any road, I'm gonna cut.

Thank you.

I won't tell anyone.

Um it's Destiny.

Everyone calls me Des,
but my name's Destiny.

Tara, dog.

Have a good one.

Hello, beautiful.

Listen, Des,
I were never gonna shoot that bloody dog.

Just an idea.
Bad idea, I admit. But I never would have.

Soaring.

Oh, it's majestic.

Right, guys, stop playing.

I need you to leave the room, please.
Now. Everybody out!

- Move now, ask later! Come on! Go!

Go. Now. Out!

Oh.

Fuck.

Year seven violins
bring the house down, literally.

Guy, this whole building's falling down.

Get your arse over here now!

Oh, we are honoured.

Darren! Just the chap.

You know you lost your job?

Yes. I'm on the scrap heap at 42.

Well, guess what?

- You're not.
- Not what?

The, uh, car coat will have to go,
and you need a suit.

One from this century.

And, uh, shoes that don't look like
they've been nicked from a primary school.

Not following.

Darren, you're hired.

Yeah, yeah. I get it.

Mum was right for once.

And stop looking so pleased.

Will you read us a bedtime story, Des?

Suppose.

There weren't no dinner money again.

Again?

Bloody hell.

Uh, Mrs Horsfall?

Who are you,
and what you doing in my school?

Uh, Darren, Deputy Head of Operations,
Excello Commercial, at your service.

Hmm. Where's Guy?

Oh, he had to, uh-- The office. Calls.

The old disappearing act, eh?

I told him those bogs were dodgy,
but he didn't listen.

He never listens,
and this is what happens.

I'm sorry for your loss.

- So, it's an insurance job, I presume?
- Well--

That had better not be one of those
"wells" that's gonna give me an ulcer.

Apparently, and I'm a bit new to this,
the installation was over eight years ago.

So, uh, contractually, it's wear--

Wear and tear.

Wear and tear?

There were violins
floating out the bloody door.

Hmm. Hmm.

There's nothing on it.

- Sorry?
- Your clipboard. It's blank.

Like you, it seems.

You're gonna try and get this put
on the maintenance budget, aren't you?

Well, I'm not having it.
This is one Excello-con-trick too many.

You tell Guy this is war!

Nice to meet you.

Hmm.

Drown your sorrows?

You've drowned my bloody music room.

- Cheers.

Kill the bastard!

Hey, at least I got a lot of sympathy
out of Dishy Dilip.

Post-tsunami.

Hence the tears.

I was upset.

Right. Outrageous, Hetty.

He's single. I'm single.

Yeah. Though Dilip's

What?

Well, he's younger than you, Het.

- Quite a bit younger.
- True.

But his last girlfriend was older.

How the hell do you know that?

Clever girl.

There we go.

You don't need to wait up, love.
You know that.

Well, we can't put the house
to bed properly until you're back.

Can we, Lulah?

Hetty, all right?

Oh, considering.

What is it with her and men?

Now she thinks
she's got a chance with Dilip.

Oh, Dishy Dilip?

Deputy Headmaster Dilip,
as he prefers to be called.

- I don't mean to be rude--
- No, be rude.

She smokes like a chimney,
she's got purple hair,

and she's
in a coercive-control relationship

with two cats and her crazy mother.

And there speaks her friend.

Oh, you know I love her, really.

- It's just-- You know, get real.

How about you?

Took Lulah down the park,

two poos, duly bagged up and disposed of,

got wet, came home.

Night, love.

Night.

Goodnight, Tallulah.
Mmm, Tallulah.

Dave?

Oh. Night, Tallulah.

Questions, questions.

Thirty-three pages of them.

Do I have trouble eating?

Do I cut my own food up?

Do I need a-- a feeding tube?

I mean, what even is a feeding tube?

Might mean a straw?

Oh, yeah, cocktails.

They think of everything.

- I'm gonna put "no."
- Ah, steady on.

The computer's doing the deciding,
you know?

And they've got a mind of their own.

He's right.

Computer tots up yeses and noes.

Too many noes

Oh.

Then again, too many yeses

Oh, sh--

Now I am confused. I mean,
I've been getting my benefits for years.

What's changed?

I mean, why do they want to know
how long I take to wash?

- It's a bit personal, isn't it?
- Yeah.

- What's the right answer?
- Don't worry. We'll help.

Right.

"Do you suffer from anxiety?"

I bloody well do now.

Honestly, it was good I got them out--

- Did you lose the instruments?
- Aha! Destiny Schofield!

- Many are called, but few are chosen.

- Have you lost your pen, love?
- No, I don't think so.

It's just you haven't signed up
for my choir.

List's on the music board.
Administrative oversight?

Busy, miss.

Come on. You've got a great voice.

- Besides, I need you on piano.

Have a look at this.

I've sent a few kids here over the years.

Hallam F.E. College.
They do an HND in Music Tech.

I wasn't thinking of--

Worst that can happen is you become a
roadie for a Rolling Stones tribute band.

Who are the Rolling Stones, miss?

I feel a detention coming on, Mr Amagee.

Detention slips are in my pocket,
Miss Baxter.

Or are you just pleased to see me?

Have a look. It's worth a thought.

And I have to ask, is the world ready
for Destiny the hairdresser?

What's wrong with Destiny the hairdresser?

I just prefer Destiny the musician,
but it's your life, love.

You're good enough.
That's all you need to know.

- Ooh.
- Shut up.

Bloody hell. I'd given up on that
as another of your retirement projects.

O ye of little faith.

No, I, uh, managed to find a bolt
on one of them dead lawn mowers at school.

- Told you I would.
- Yeah, you did. Eighteen months ago.

As the good book says, wisdom,
fine wine and M6 bolts cannot be hurried.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you

- the stairway to heaven.

Clever chap.

May I?

The floor is yours.

Them year eights are
a bunch of buggers, eh?

Mmm.

What's with that Dean lad?

Dean? Oh, you mean Twiglet?

That's him. Yeah, w-what's the, uh--
What's the story there?

Oh, asthmatic, dyslexic, ADHD,

a dodgy home life,
bullied by all the usual little twats.

You name it.

Why?

Can't you do owt?

Well, I try,
but he's one of 38 "at risks" in juniors.

And I have to say he's got a mouth on him,
this Twiglet. He winds folk up.

Dave, I can't talk and run
at the same time.

Copy that.

- Oh bloody hell.
- Dave!

Oh, you wazzock.

Thought you'd chucked them out.

Can't take books, I'm afraid.
We're chock-a-block.

It's clothes and stuff.

Oh.

Tag's still on this one.
Oh, they grow so fast, don't they?

No, he died.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Long time ago now.

- Is this--
- Permission to join the bridge?

Ah, come aboard, Dave.
What can we do you for?

I wondered if, uh,
Dean Blakefield was in today.

I found his sports bag
trying to make a break for it

on the roof of the science block.

Oh, I bet I can guess
who chucked it up there.

Mmm, fiver says it's JJ.

Just bung it in at lost property, love.

Well, I just thought he might have games
this aft, that's all.

Ah, okay, well, uh, Twiglet, Twig--

He's off sick.

Oh, okay. Thanks.

So, this is the one that--

It's bullying, you know?
And it shouldn't be tolerated.

It's not tolerated.

So, am I to send JJ in to see you?

We'll sort it, Dave.

Right.

Mrs Blakefield?

- Depends.
- I've got Twiglet's sports bag.

I won't stop. I'm just, uh-- Wow.

Thought you were
building maintenance.

No, no, I'm, uh--

I know who you are now, love.

Deano's been telling me all about ya.

They hate my plants.

Always on about it making the place damp,

but you've got to keep
the oxygen levels up if you're asthmatic.

Sheffield's got seven hills,
then it's got seven valleys.

That's where the nasties gather.

Have a seat, duck.

Dean normally tidies up,
but he's not well.

Yeah, is he in?

I can't get around much.

Degenerative scoliosis
with all the trimmings.

I'm in for another operation soon,
so I don't know.

Deano's been helping out, I hear.

- Well, he--
- It's fine by me.

He's a handy lad.

It's not much fun hanging out
with his old mum, is it?

He's a bit chatty, but he's a good kid.

Yeah, I know.

Is he okay?

Getting better.

Oi, get off me! Leave me alone!

Pick on someone your own size!
Leave me alone!

- Come on. Give it.
- I just want my bag!

- Leave me alone! Get off me!
- Oi!

- He started it.
- Get off me.

Yeah, and I'm finishing it.
Now piss off home!

- Swearing, that is.
- I'll tell the head.

Return to your lair, JJ. Go on. Hop it.

Back with a bang, eh, Dean?

How about, "Thanks for rescuing my sports
bag and dropping it home, Mr Horsfall"?

Thanks for a shitload of nothing,
Mr Horsfall.

I beg your pardon.

It were me who threw it up there.

- You did?
- Course I did.

No sports kit, no sports. Capisce?

Dean

I went Free Solo
on them ladders to get that bag.

No ropes, no oxygen, just me
battling the elements in yon Death Zone.

I'm glad you're amused.

Oh, that's why you left it
in my car and all, eh?

Any road, all better now?

'Cause I missed you.

Yeah?

Turns out life isn't complete without
a 12-year-old smart-arse. Who knew?

Come on.

- Flu, was it? It's going round.
- Something like that.

Ah, there we go.

Your mum's nice.

She's mad.

She certainly likes her plants.

No, I mean proper mad. Hypermanic.

Oh, right.

You know, the older I get,
the more I realise everyone's a bit mad.

Except me, obviously.

- And me.

Dean, lad.

Me and you are probably the only
two sane people in the whole country.

- Maybe even the world.
- Hey, don't let on.

Otherwise,
they'll have us running the place,

and we'd never get home for us tea.

Speaking of which,
time for a floor polish?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

- What?
- There's no dinner money again! Mum!

- It's in the tray!
- There's not!

- I put it there last night!
- No, there's not!

- Des!
- She went really early.

Ooh, that thieving little--

Right.

- Now, you two, bugger off.
- Love ya!

Since when have you been
so cheerful on a two day?

As the Kama Sutra says, you cannot
allow the food to control you, Jean.

You must control the food.

Mmm. One less tomato to bother the world.

I'd check your phone
if I didn't know you better.

There's only ever been
one love in my life,

apart from cheese and onion crisps.

You know that, Jeanie.

Right, I'm off.

Call that a slice?

Come on, Lomper. I'm a valued customer.

Well, you're a customer.

And you're on a diet.

Found a name for your rebrand yet?

Ask him.

He's been reading French cookbooks lately,
which is a worry obviously.

Excuse.

What are you doing here?

Not the warm greeting I was hoping to get
from mine host, I must say.

The personal touch.

It's very important
for a struggling High Street business.

Nobody who borrows 15 grand
can be struggling, Bill.

How would they pay it back?

Keep it down, will you?

Thanks, Dennis. Right.

Tara then!

Ah. There goes one happy customer.

The ambience. It's thriving.

I'm very confident
he's gonna be a punctual payer, Bill.

I don't owe you owt till next month.

That's what we agreed.

Bang on.

Me and Bill,
we're just here for a cup of tea.

A nice brew.

And maybe a little custard tart.

All right, Dave?

Oh, now then, Twiglet. Here you go.

Hey, I thought it were a two day.

Not according to the Chinese calendar.

Built-in flexibility.

And I see it's Chinese Year
of the Chocolate Cake.

Can I have a bite?

Help yourself.

Though the pickled onions
have got my name on them.

I love a pickled onion.

You can watch.

I thought you were school dinners.

You forgot your money.
I can lend you some.

I'm good.

Someone's nicked your dinner money.

I'm a mind-reader, me.

- Who?
- Read my mind.

Come on, Dean.
You can't let people steal off ya.

Oh!

Heaven.

Names.

I need names.

It's bloody CSI Sheffield now, is it?

Oh, you know what? These are unbelievable.

Now come on. Spill.

J-- JJ sometimes. Well, mostly.

Lately, it's been that Schofield lass
with the hair and the piercings.

- Destiny?
- Don't say owt.

You're kidding me. I've known that toe-rag
since she were born.

She should know better.

All right, what have I done now?

It's about Destiny.

Here we go. What's she done now?

She's bullying folk.

Certainly scares the shit out of me.

It's not funny, Gaz. Kids. Littl'uns.

She's nicking their dinner money.

She's a bugger sometimes, that girl.
Tell her not to.

It's your bloody job to tell her not to.
You're her dad.

Look, I'm just trying
to stop it going nuclear at school.

Bullying's worse than murder these days.

Dave, is it any of your business
what I tell my own daughter?

Fine! Do fuck-all, as usual.

- Message received.
- Good. My brew's getting cold.

I just hope you don't wake up one day
and realise what you've missed.

Fucking hell. I think I preferred it
when you weren't talking to me.

You all right?

Gotcha!

You took all your meds, Ant?

Yeah.

You know I'm gonna check.

Cheeky bastard. I don't believe it.

Dave unfriended me on Facebook!

- A mate?
- Was. Blocked me!

- What'd you say this time?
- What do you mean? Didn't say owt nothing.

A few home truths maybe.

Ooh, Gaz and his home truths.

Thing about Dave is he's got no ambition.

He's a lump, a lump going nowhere.

But I couldn't be happier.

I'm not bothered.

Does this look like the face
of a bothered man?

I've seen less bothered.

Would've unfriended him first,
but I'm not a petty little shit.

Thanks, love.

Well, this is nice.

Biscuit, anybody? Deano, would you?

Two day.

So

- Destiny's come to apologise. Haven't you?

That's kind. Guess you had your reasons.

Excuses aren't reasons.

Anyway, love, thanks for coming.

- He made me come.
- But you're still here. So

My mum's boyfriend nicks
the twins' dinner money.

For a laugh, to cause bother.

I don't bloody know why.

So, I give them my dinner money.
Otherwise, they wouldn't get any lunch.

I take Twiglet's dinner money.
Otherwise, I won't get any lunch.

And he raids the school kitchen.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have any lunch.

At least everybody eats.

Oh. Supply chain economics in a nutshell.

And you did have your reasons.
I knew you would.

It's just that, when I come across Dean
trying to kill himself

by taking a whole load of my painkillers,

I have to ask myself whether what's
trickle-down economics to you, love,

is it just plain bullying to him?

Hey, lad, that's not right.

Thanks, Mum.

It's only the truth, love.

Hello, Jean! Uh, it's, uh, Darren from
Excello Commercial about the flooding.

Uh, personally, I'm a great believer
in the value of, uh, education,

uh, especially the arts.

Uh, so it's a priority.

Uh, so, I took this one to the very top,
um, well, G-Guy.

Unfortunately, it seems that art and
commerce are at odds on this one, Jean.

It's not an insurance job.

All of the repair costs are going to have
to come out of the overall school budget.

Uh, apologies. Uh, bye.

Was coming to see you.

I fixed quite a lot.

You'd be amazed what you can do
with a squeegee and a hairdryer.

But the electronic stuff, total write-off.

But, look.

With the insurance,
it's what we always wanted.

We can do something amazing
with this new gear.

- Yeah. Het--
- It's moved on like you'd never believe.

These machines virtually play
their bloody selves.

Yeah, Hetty, we can't.

Can't what?

We can't claim for it on insurance.

Oh, right. So, we're just
a brass band then, are we?

Uh, no, no.
Hetty, we can't afford anything.

I've got plenty of sheet music
stacked up over the years. We'll be right.

No, we can't afford anything.

We-- We can't afford a music teacher.

What do you mean?

Well, because they're saying it's wear and
tear, we can't claim for it on insurance.

It has to come out
of the maintenance budget.

- Hang on. Jean, are you firing me?
- And we're already over-budget as it is.

And the only place that I can find
that money is in the teaching budget.

- And you have overspent again.
- Overspent?

Oh, so, this is about a bit of wine
at the school concert again, is it?

Uh, no, no, no.
Eh, not just a bit of wine. And--

Physics: boring fucking equations.

Geography: beardy buggers
with a high opinion of themselves.

And don't get me started
on the chemistry wonks.

Fire one of them.

No, you won't do that, will ya?

Not core curriculum, music, is it?
Dispensable.

- Hetty.
- Surplus to educational requirements.

- Hetty, please.
- I mean, who needs music, right?

Hetty, I'm trying to--

I'll tell you who,
Destiny Schofield for one.

Ever seen her stay two hours after school
for a maths lesson? Have ya?

Music talks, Jean!

It speaks to the soul, to the soul
of people who can't do trigonometry,

that don't give a flying fuck
that Caracas is the capital of--

Where is it the fucking capital of?

Venezuela.

Thank you.

Music saves lives, Jean.

Hetty, please. Don't do this.

Oh, you want me to make it easy for ya?

To say, "Twenty-three years
devoted to this place. Hey, no problem."

You know, Jean, I love this place.

What else have I got, eh?

Bottle-of-wine-a-night habit,
pizza out of a box,

a demented mother who basically hates me,
and a daughter I never see.

This place is my life.

I'm so sorry.

You're my friend.

Hey, no problem.

Dave?

I've just had to sack my best friend.

Put a bloody tracking device
in that thing, or what?

Mind your bloody language.

It's fate, kid,
telling you to get your arse in gear.

Dave, please. I'm begging.

Oh, go on.

Why would anybody do that for fun?

Yeah, you're not exactly built for speed.

Yeah, well,
you're not exactly built for effort.

Tug of war, that's more me.

Telly watching's more me.

Dean, lad--

Here we go. Can we not talk about it?

- Yeah, we do have to talk about it.
- Why?

'Cause it says so on all telly programmes.

Go on then.

I were bullied at school and all,
you know, 'cause I were a big lad.

One day, you turned around,
kicked them all to shit

and became the most popular man
in Sheffield.

You could try using less mouth
and more ears, you know?

That's what my school report says.

I stopped trying to fit in
with folk who were basically bastards

and just started being myself.

Played to my strengths.

Well, what if
you don't have any strengths?

You've got a superpower, kid.

You're funny. You make folk laugh.

Well, they laugh, and then they punch me.

So, find the ones that don't.

That's how you find your mates.

You reckon?

You've already got one mate.

- Who?
- Me, you wazzock.

You're all right for a fat bloke.

And that there is how
you get yourself punched, my friend.

I know. Just kidding.

Come on, then.
Module two of the fitness programme.

You've got to be kidding me.

Mental Health Awareness.

I'm gonna introduce you
to some right nutters.

I've done your personal details.

So, you click here,

get your photo up, share it here.

That's your profile page set up.

Bloody hell! Where'd you find him, Dave?
Kid's a genius.

Lomper, get the lad a brownie.

Ah, ta.

So, uh, what else can you do on here?

I can see
what porn websites you've been on.

Just kidding.

Lomper, cancel the brownie.

I think I've pulled summat in a place
where I didn't know there was owt to pull.

Mmm.

Can't carry on like this, Dave.

Carry on like what?

You and Twiglet.

Bit of keep fit. What's wrong with that?

People are talking at school.

Well, they can talk all they like.

He helps out a bit, that's all. Likes it.

There's not a lot else he likes.
I can tell you that.

Isn't that what education's all about?
Encouraging folk.

You're always going on about it.

That's not really the point.

You're not his dad, Dave.

Well, somebody's got to look out for him.

You said you were sorting it,
him being bullied by JJ. Did you?

- Well, we--
- No, you didn't.

'Cause if you did, you'd have found out
he only tried to top himself, didn't he?

Overdose. Last week.

A 12-year-old kid at our school.

We should be ashamed, Jeanie.
I am ashamed.

Oh, Dave. Is he all right?

As it happens, yes.

I didn't know.

Well, he hardly wants it headline news,
does he? Poor lad.

No, but there are things we can do.

There are things
that we can put in place for him.

He doesn't want things put in place.
He's all right.

We have a laugh, me and him.
A chat, you know?

Is that so wrong?

I'm going for a shower.

Whoa, wait! Whoa!

What are you doing? Hey!

- Stop it!

Fucking thief.

What?

Dean. You all right?

What happened to being a man of your word?

They came round. Social services.

- Did they?
- Like you don't know.

They found out my mum's going in hospital,

so they're putting me in a care home
till she gets out.

So, thanks for that, Mr Horsfall.

Oh, Dean, I'm sorry.

I-I said summat to Jean--
to, uh, Mrs Horsfall,

but I didn't know. I didn't--

- Who's gonna water her plants now, eh?
- Well, I could.

I'd rather they bloody died.

Fuck's sake.

Excuse me. Destiny.

Destiny!

Just watch how I solve this.

Oh, God.

What a day.

I told you about Dean in confidence.

They're taking him into care.

Well, it's only temporary.
It's a safeguarding issue.

I'm a head teacher, Dave.
I couldn't ignore what you told me.

Like it or not, it's the law.

But you did like it.

Well, what's that supposed to mean?

I'll be in garden.

Oh, that's right,
walk off like you always do.

Going to my mum's.

She needs some help hanging curtains.
I'm gonna stay the night.

You're queen bee
to nigh on a thousand kids,

and you couldn't let me
look after just one, could you?

I try to talk to him.

But all he ever says is,
"Oh, I'll be in the garden."

And that's it.

The limit of his ability to talk about
anything, his bloody hedge.

All right, there you go.

Oh, look at that.

Perfect.

- You can't do that.
- Yeah, I can.

- Get it!

You've not made much of a dent in that.

- Pickled onion?
- No, ta.