White Gold (2017–…): Season 2, Episode 2 - Episode #2.2 - full transcript

FOGHORN BELLOWS

Evening, Vincent. Ronnie.
Beautiful spot.

I guess,
if you like big metal boxes.

Oh, I do.

All these different coloured boxes
carrying goods across the world.

You know, I look at those containers
and do you know what I see?

Good places to store bodies.

Very funny,
although they really are.

No, I see bunts, young Vincent.

They're like lucky dips bags -
you never know what's inside

until you break into one
and then nick it.



Well, I'm sure you didn't drag me
all the way out here to romanticise

some rusty fucking crates, Ronnie.

How's business?

Figures are down again this month,
but I've got it under control.

My rival's had an opening month
bump, nothing more.

Won't happen again.
I hope not, Vincent.

Otherwise I might be forced to give
you a tour of the inside of one

of these rusty fucking crates.

OK, now the pep talk's out the way,
I need a favour.

What is it?
It's my boy, Ronnie Junior.

Let's just say
he's been having a few issues

in the employment market.

I need you to take him on.

It's not exactly convenient timing.



Oh, it is for me.

Lyndsey's been banging my earhole
about getting him a job,

and obviously I can't have him
working alongside me

in the family business.

You want to protect him?
No, no, no.

It's, um, how can I put this?
It's more he's...

He's just fucking strange.

What can you do, eh?

Unconditional love
can be a terrible burden.

Great.

Do I get a choice?
Of course.

You can say yes, or you can spend
the next eight weeks in that yellow

container up there being shipped
to South America.

HE WHISTLES

Junior, come and meet Vincent.

He's your new mentor.

Pleased to meet you, Junior.

It's RJ to everyone else.

Have you done any sales before, RJ?

There is nothing you can teach me
that I do not already know.

Oh, good. Right, I see you two are

going to get on
like a house on fire.

Already starting to feel
like a right gooseberry.

So, see you lovebirds later.

MUSIC: Church Of The Poison Mind
by Culture Club

More charred meat, girls.

I'd go for the sausages,
if I were you.

Unfortunately
this isn't a dream sequence.

No, there's no waking up
from the living nightmare

that is little prick's
annual staff barbecue.

Silencio, silencio, por favor.
Gracia, muchas gracias.

Exciting times here
at Millman Young.

Hopefully this little shindig goes
some way to saying thank you,

not just to my colleagues,
but to the wonderful wives

and partners who help support
and nourish my team.

So, thank you, ladies.

Thank you, ladies.

Now, I'm just going to talk shop
for one moment longer.

I am delighted to announce
that we are going to promote

Sam Swan to a position
in the sales advertising team.

Congratulations, Sam.

You deserve it, sweetheart.
Hear, hear.

Congratulations, my darling.

Now, can everyone get back to eating
barbecue and bitching about me

behind my back.

Vincent,
it's great to have you here.

Actually, what Andrew said when
he first planned this barbecue

was, "I have to invite Vincent.

"I don't want to, but I have to."

Listen, I know we've had our
differences but I'm really

glad you came.
Wouldn't miss it for the world.

Patronising little prick.
Vincent, stop.

Right.

Are we are ready for the
fifth annual Millman Young

World Cup of ping-pong?

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Oh, this day just gets
fucking better and better.

Right, gang, time to get serious.

This year we're playing mixed
doubles - not spouses together

because I will not be
held responsible for any divorce

proceedings. So the pairings are
as follows.

Sally and Chris, Melinda and Bob,
Bess and Jim, Sam and myself,

Vincent and Pat, June and Martin,
Ann and Alan, Angela and Norman.

Who's Pat? I am.

You are going to have to do most
of the work, I'm afraid.

Well, the upside of doing a stint
in borstal,

Patrick, is it's like a crash course
in table tennis. Come on.

# Here I am

# Rock you like a hurricane

# Are you ready, baby?

# Here I am

# Rock you like a hurricane. #

My borstal bat skills
just about made up for my partner

being so close to death's door
that he could play knock-down

ginger on it.

Eventually I dragged the dead weight
of Pat all the way to the final,

which pitted me against my wife
and the world's most

competitive garden gnome.

The score was 20-17,
which gave them three match points.

If the table's too high,

I don't mind you using a stepladder
to serve.

I won't be needing that, thank you.

Go on, Sam.

OK, OK.

Sorry. 20-18.

20-19.

When you get a chance, you've got to
take it, Sam.

Vincent's fucking serving now.

Sorry.
You had the chance, Sam.

I'm sorry. Stop apologising and take
responsibility for it.

OK, I will, I promise,
I'll do better next time, yeah?

If there is a next time.

Yes, that's it.

Give me some skin.

For fuck's sake, sorry, Pat, mate.

You useless bastard.

I'm sorry if I got a little bit
spiky just then.

No, you didn't. Honestly, it's fine,
forget about it.

I have to admit, you were
pretty sensational today.

Every once in awhile, Samantha,
you've got to take one

for the team. Mmm.

What I was thinking, it's only fair
that if you get to take

one for the team, then so should I.

Now, come on, Vincent Swan,
I need you to be the bigger man

one last time today.

What's wrong, baby?

I'm sorry, Pat,
I've just got a lot on my mind.

Walshie. Sort of.

If that sneaky bitch he's got
selling for him keeps

stealing our business,
I'm not going to hit my

target this month.

Well, at least money is not as much
of a worry, now we've got the two

salaries and I'm getting a raise.

And so, it seems, is Mr Winky.

He certainly is.

Don't worry.

I'll have this situation
under control soon.

I managed to set a little trap
and Walshie's golden girl is walking

straight into it.

What kind of a trap?

The sweetest kind.

A honey trap.

And guess which sap was the honey?

As part of his quest to become
more ruthless in sales,

Lavender jumped at the opportunity.

It also didn't hurt that the bee
in this particular honey trap

was hotter than Satan's
arsehole after a vindaloo.

Hiya. It's Jo, isn't it?

You ran the peak performance seminar
I went to.

Sorry, I'm Martin Lavender,
Cachet Windows.

Ah, Mr Be-More-Assertive.
How are you doing, Martin?

I just want to say you really
completely transformed my whole

approach to sales.

In fact, I honestly
wouldn't be selling at all any more

if it wasn't for you.
Shot myself in the foot, then.

I know you're working,
I just wanted to say thanks.

Where are you heading?
Hot lead, number eight.

The Talbots.

Sneaky two-timing bastards.

Oh, double bookers.

How do you want to handle this?

All yours. Really?

Absolutely. Oh, thank you.

Well, then, I feel like
I failed as a sales coach.

Also I was hoping my tiny act
of generosity might get my foot

in the door for
a bigger opportunity.

OK, now you've got me
interested, Martin.

What's the bigger prize?

Dinner tonight?

Yeah, all right.

I'm married to a sexist dinosaur.

What?

The fact you don't see
how incredibly wrong this is is even

more disturbing than dreaming it up
in the first place.

What I do know is that if you don't
hurry up and get back on board,

Mr Dipply O'Dickus here
will soon become extinct.

It's not funny, Vincent.

The poor girl.

Not to mention Martin.

Yeah, I'm sure that furious,
hot sex with a beautiful

woman is tough.

And there it is.

The cherry on top of
this passion-killing cake.

She's beautiful, is she?

That's not what I meant.

Goodnight, Vincent.

And just as my mojo was rising
again, Sam had me on a sex ban.

Something that I was wishing
Ronnie's wife had done to him

24 years ago.

Boysies, this is Ronnie Junior.

I'll stop you there. It's RJ.
Continue.

He'll be working with us from today.

RJ, Fitzpatrick and Lavender
will train you up,

take you out, show you the ropes.
As I said, I won't need training.

Have fun.

Lavender here went to university.

Thought he knew it all
when he first turned up.

Turns out, the only thing he learned
to transfer to sales

was how to identify various
sexually-transmitted diseases.

It's a steep learning curve, mate.

Well, I imagine it's mainly
strategy and psychology,

in which case it's highly likely
I'll know it all already.

Oh, lovely, did you do psychology?

No.

History?

No, look, I don't want to brag.

I'm sure it won't be taken
as bragging.

Fine.

I'm in the top-five players
worldwide at Stratego.

What the fuck is Stratego?

It's an advanced
strategy turn-based board game.

Oh, right, well, unfortunately most
of our customers are above the age

of eight, so I doubt
they'll be impressed by that.

And even though this is a much
lowlier arena than the one

in which I would normally compete,
it's highly likely

I'll have something
to teach each of you.

All right, well, let's start you off
with something simple.

How about some teas? Go on, then.
White, two sugars.

Oh, yeah, OK.

MUSIC: I Just Can't Get Enough
by Depeche Mode

We quickly found out why Ronnie
wasn't overly keen to integrate

Junior into the family business.

So, we have established five
different ways in which your life

could be immeasurably improved
by having new windows, yeah?

Yeah, but honestly, we can't do it
for the money, Brian.

Look, I've never done this before
and it goes completely

against protocol,
but I could try and get

you what is called our VIP rates.

Would it be OK if I use your phone?
Yeah, of course.

OK, well, I'll leave you
with my colleague, RJ.

Yeah. Well, boss, you know,
I wouldn't be asking if I hadn't

already closed six deals today.

Yeah, I'm on a streak and the
Greenwoods, they're good people.

You know, I've purchased
all sorts of crap in my life.

None of it has made me happy.

You know what Sir John Betjeman's
great regret was before he died?

Not enough sex.

And that's something
you don't even have to pay for...

..all the time.

Really? Well, we've never gone
that low.

Uh-huh.

Right, we're not comfortable
with the direction this has gone in.

What? Your colleague is
very, very strange.

And it wasn't just on the road
that RJ was proving a liability.

Excuse me, could I ask a question
about conservatories?

In a minute, I'm still on a throw.

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough

# I just can't get enough. #

RJ, what the fuck? You're supposed
to be looking after the showroom.

This is a critical phase of battle,
I cannot operate with distractions.

And who's she?
SHE's got a name.

Susie, and I'm here
cos RJ offered me a job.

She'll be my assistant.
She's great with figures.

Don't you work in the Flying Horse?

I did. You still do.

Come on, out.

OUT!

Ridiculous.

How am I supposed to close a deal
whilst I'm nursemaiding

that charmless freak?

I would say he is insane.

Well, I'm sorry,
we can't get rid of him.

He's Ronnie's son,
which makes him like royalty.

Like one of those weird
inbred princes that grow

up to be really fucking dangerous?

Are you thinking of fairy tales?
I'm thinking of Prince Edward.

Lavender, what have you dug up
on the opposition so far?

As far as I can see,
she just seems to work very hard

and have a bloodhound's nose
for a sale. That's it?

We could have got that
from her fucking CV, mate.

I don't want to push too hard
too soon.

You're not taking a fucking shit,
you're spying on a rival.

See, boss, I told you,
you should have sent me in as bait.

Yeah, the only problem being, you
don't land a prize catch like Jo

with a maggot like him.

Just come up with something pronto
to stop her stealing our fucking

business before Prince Bellend's dad
decides to send me to Venezuela.

You mean Coventry?
I wish I did.

Speak of the devil.

My car keys?

Thanks, where were they?

I just took it for a spin.

You might want to get the gear knob
looked at, it comes right off in

your hand when you try and shift
across to third. It's an automatic.

Oh, yeah, that makes sense.

Can I get a beer?

# I know what it means
to work hard... #

You left something in the toilet.

It's not mine.

Shit!

Ha!

Would you look at that? What is it?

It's little Donna.

Brendan's daughter, Donna.

Didn't you once take some seedy
photos of her for her dad?

I think what you meant to ask was,
didn't I launch that little

cracker's modelling career?
And, yes, I did.

Oh, it's nice seeing
her all grown up, isn't it?

Not really, it's massively creepy.

She's still not old enough
to buy alcohol.

What's creepier? Page 3 or you
trying to censor innocent pictures

of the human body?

It's definitely the one
where schoolgirls are paid

to bear their breasts
for dirty old men.

Carol, do you have any problem
whatsoever with Page 3?

Well, it is always in the newspapers
so I suppose they have to report it.

Thank you.

A bit of common sense.

AND she's a woman.

But it is sexist.

Yeah... Thank you, Carol.

We should invite this local Lolita
down to the shop,

might even attract some customers
to this morgue you call a showroom.

All right, RJ, you stick to Cluedo.

Let the big boys sell the windows.

That's not a terrible idea.

I mean, Donna is a national
sweetheart - albeit a topless one.

Imagine the publicity if we got
her down for a meet and greet.

I like it, Lavatory.

You're starting to think like me.

Thanks for seeing me.

Let me start by saying
how thrilled we are to have played

a small but vital role
in Donna's success.

Now, I know we've had our
differences in the past and I'd just

like to say that, first and
foremost,

I've always considered you a mate.

That's lovely to hear that, Brian.

And seeing that it's you and
Vincent, I'm prepared to offer you

my one-time mate's rate of...
£1,000 for the afternoon.

Oh.

Seems a bit steep... MATE.

Usually we charge 500,
but like I said I am doing

you a special mate's rate.

In light of our past.

You're fucking joking.

You take it or leave it...

..you rat-faced wee prick.

I guess I'll start with a positive.

Didn't find any soft porn
in the toilet today.

However, I did find semen
on the sink.

No, I'm not pointing the finger,
but just in case anyone

new here is under any doubt,
that's not fucking on.

I wondered where that went, cheers.

Mystery solved.

While I remember, I've got
some expenses need paying.

What's all this?
Corporate entertainment.

Entertainment for what? Myself.

It's very boring working
here all day,

so in the evenings
I have to entertain myself.

Right, RJ,
I want you down the printer's,

we need a thousand copies
of this, mate, pronto.

What is it?

Very nice. Tasteful yet risque.

Are you sure making the flyer
transparent was the smartest idea?

It's not transparent, numb nuts,
it's the film the printers

need to run the flyers off.

Look, Sam has put her neck on
the line getting this done for us.

So keep your greasy paws off it.

She's got quite the enigmatic smile.

Maybe she spotted
your enigmatic stiffy.

Oh, my God, that is disgusting.

Oh, grow up.

All of you.

None of us would be here
if our fathers' penises

didn't engorge with blood
when we needed them to.

What are you still doing here?

Get to the fucking printer's.

But before RJ could
complete our delivery,

he needed to take care
of his own package first.

# Tha-tha-tha-tha that's the way
Uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it

# Uh-huh, uh-huh

# That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh

# That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh

# That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh... #

Do you think you could save it?

Should be able to reconstruct
the lettering. What did it say?

Catch-it Windows?

What about the phone number?

I think that's a one,
that's another one.

Let's go with one, one, one, one.

While RJ was covering up
his spunky tracks,

Lavender was trying to get Jo
to unwrap a few secrets of her own.

Is there something wrong?

No, I just thought
maybe we could talk for a change.

I mean, we barely know anything
about each other.

All right, Michael Parkinson,
what do you need to know

besides I like having sex
and I like you?

How about we play a game?

I'm only interested if
its hide the salami. I'm serious.

It's an intimacy challenge.

We tell each other one thing secret
about each other.

It can be anything at all,
but it has to be something

we've never told anyone.
OK, sounds interesting.

Who's going first? I'll kick off.

I once had an affair
with a married woman.

My, Lavender, you dark horse.

Was it recent?

I'm not saying anything else
about it. Your turn.

OK, my first orgasm was
at a sleep-over

at my best friend's house.

It was also on her fingers.

Jesus Christ, that's amazing.
No, not fair.

I just delivered
a lesbian fingering fantasy.

I want something juicier from you.

You went to a single-sex school,
right? So?

So, boys are curious at that age.

Any sexual experimentation?

You scratch my dick, I'll scratch...

Sorry, the only penis that has been
touched

by these fair hands is my own.
OK, whose wife was it?

I'm seriously not going there.
What a sniff scandal.

Right, I'm going to sing out
some names to see how you react.

Fitzpatrick. Oh, come on.

Walshie.