All language subtitles for the good life s01e05.The Thing in the Cellar.eng

(Tom singing and hammering)

Tom!

- Tom!
- (Continues singing and hammering)

Oh, shut your face!

(Tom stops singing and hammering)

Did you call, Dame Edith?

(Sniffs) Coffee? Coffee! Wait a minute. I thought
we agreed, only one cup a day after dinner.

Oh, round things to economy for once.
You've earned it.

- Halfers?
- No, it's all for you.

You're the one who's been slaving
in the cellar for a week.

True, true. Righto. Cheers.

Mm.

Ahh! Beautiful.

You didn't save me any.

- You said it was all for me.
- Well, you didn't have to believe me.

- Was that you being incorrigibly feminine?
- Yes.

- I see.
- How's it coming?

- Nearly finished.
- Oh, you're a genius, you are.

Old Newton had his apple,
Einstein had his relatively,

- I've got my thing in the cellar.
- How is it?

I'm a genius. How should I know?

- (Doorbell)
- I'm out. I'm busy.

Right.

Ahh!

- Hello, Barbara.
- Hello.

You look terribly tired and drawn, dear.

Thank you. Do come in.

- Hello, Jerry.
- Hi, doll face.

(Singing and hammering)

We've just been shopping,
so I bought you a little something.

Oh! Pressies!
Oh, thanks ever so much, I love pressies.

Oh, boy. Candles.

Well, I saw the van from the electricity board
yesterday. You've been cut off, haven't you?

Yes, we've been cut off.

Tom driving another nail in the coffin?

But we won't be needing candles,
not even to put round a coffin.

All right, we'll have them back.
Add them to the four gross we've got in the car.

- Are you having your electricity cut off as well?
- Hardly.

No, I'm laying in a stock
to obviate being dictated to

by those Neo-Marxists at the power station.

What did Horace say, Winnie?

Annual event.

Power strikes.

What power strikes?

They are imminent.
Surely you saw the television news...

I'm sorry, Barbara.
I didn't mean to rub salt into the wounds.

You've had to let your television go as well.

Yes, we swapped it
for a 50-gallon effluence digester.

Effluence digester? Who's effluence?

Our animals'.
That's why we won't need candles.

- But you can't make electric light out of pigs'...
- Jerry!

Can you?

Tom can. He's making a generator in the cellar.

This I've got to see.

Barbara.

Now, you know me, dear.
I never speak out of turn but...

Look, don't you think it's time
Tom saw a specialist?

I mean, this whole do-it-yourself, go-it-alone
business is bordering on the psychopathic.

If he's convinced he can knock up a generator
by himself, it's time he had psychiatric help.

Yes, well, I had thought of giving Freud a ring,
but I haven't got a telephone.

Well, you could always use...

(Whistling)

(Door closes)

Is Leonardo da Vinci at home? I heard that...

Gordon Bennett!

- (Laughs)
- Go on, go on, laugh. Go on.

I happen to think
I've just created perpetual motion here.

But nothings moving.

I haven't started it yet.

What do you have to do? Light the blue
touch paper and retire immediately?

Stop, or I'll make you drink my home-made
wine!

All right, all right, I give in.

How does it work?

50 gallons of muck, right?
Pigs', chickens', goats'.

- Wonderful start.
- Right. All decaying away like mad.

- Creating...?
- A pong.

Methane!

Now, the gas comes out of there at the top,
along here and into this.

What have you got in there? Deodorant?

Iron filings to take out the hydrogen sulphide.
Yes, I am cleverer than I look.

I thought you must be.

- What happens then?
- Ah.

It goes along here, up there, along here,
round the back here.

By the way down here
and into a big pile of wood shavings.

Now, I'm drying my gas at this stage.

Now, this might look like
an old diesel generator to you.

- Yes, it does.
- That's because it is.

- Except that it's fuelled by methane.
- Methane?

You're in-thane! (Chuckles)

No, seriously, it's very ingenious,
but it will never work.

No, clever dick? Switch the light on, will you?

Ooh! The glare. Dazzling me.

I'lhold your head under
in my effluence digester in a minute.

- I haven't spun my wheel yet.
- So spin it. Rien ne va plus.

- (Chuckles)
- (Mimics)

Now, come on, my little darling.
Just for me, just this once.

(Wheezing whir)

It works! It works!

Well, you might say well done
or give me a cigar.

- Yes, it's very good.
- But? But?

If you're gonna have to stand there spinning
that thing every time you want a light,

isn't life going to get a bit... samey?

- That was the overture.
- This is the symphony.

(Clanking and whirring)

Just the one movement, eh?

Watch it, just watch it.

(Clanking and whirring)

- (Laughs)
- Shut up, shut up.

(Rapid clanking and whirring)

- And behold, there was light.
- Yes. Congratulations, Tom.

Thanks.

All right, all right, you've convinced me.

- Turn it off.
- Right.

It does seem a lot of trouble to go to
to light one light bulb.

Look, that's banging out enough electricity
to light the house and run the deep freeze.

Good Lord.

What, you do all this on a load of pigs'...

- doodah?
- Yes.

Waste not, want not.
Pick it up and stoke it, that's what I say.

- You'll never pay another electricity bill.
- No.

If I could develop an H20 tablet,
the water board can go and drown itself as well.

- Margo and I spend a fortune on electricity.
- Of course you do.

You're gadget-mad.
Electric toothbrushes, electric swizzle sticks.

If they developed an electric gas oven,
you'd have one.

One must take the back break out of life,
mustn't one?

Oh, yes, brushing your teeth,
stirring your drinks, striking matches.

Exhausting, isn't it?

I can't help it
if luxury and I are mutually attractive.

Well, I've got no time for it these days.

Oughtn't you be getting rid of
this deep freezer thing?

- Swap it for a crossbow?
- A luxury isn't a luxury when it's essential.

When we do our pigs in,
there'll be a year's supply of pork in there.

Seems a bit ungrateful
when they're supplying the fuel to run the thing.

True, true.

It's a dog's life being a pig, isn't it?

(Wheezing whir)

(Clanking)

Do you mind if I have the door open?

I know I went to Senegal on my holidays
last year, but I really can't take this heat.

It is getting a bit Kew Garden-ish, isn't it?

As Tom makes you economise on everything,
I'm surprised he allows a fire when it's so mild.

Well, considering it helps to heat our bathwater
and cook our meals,

it would be a bit silly to ask him to put it out.

- Ever loyal.
- (Thud)

- Ooh, what's that?
- Ah!

My bread!

I think I might have used too much mixture.

You erm... you have to make your own, do you?

Want to.

Well, you must admit, I got it to rise.

I think I'd better put it out to cool.

Hello, hello.

Hello, Margo. Nice bit of thigh.

Barbara!

It works, doesn't it? Your smile's got dimples.

So has your little bum! Give us a cuddle.

- Jerry, look at the state of your trousers.
- Get off!

This is no time for trousers.
This is a time for rejoicing.

Fill the mead cup and drain the barrel.
Wassail, wassail.

I'm sorry, Tom,
but I cannot go into transports of delight

every time you accomplish some little thing.

Some little thing?

The miracle of light - some little thing?

Be fair, Margo,
the man's just built his own generator.

Very well. If it will make everyone happy
if I say "Congratulations, Tom,"

then, congratulations, Tom.

You always were the one
for the spontaneous outburst.

Well, it does seem to require
the most enormous amount of effort.

I mean,
I'd sooner pay the electricity bills, personally.

I'd sooner you paid the electricity bills,
personally.

Meaning what, Jerry?

When I come home from the office,
our house looks like the Blackpool illuminations.

So you want me to stumble about in the dark,
do you?

You might consider
the price of electricity sometimes.

I'm very sorry, Jerry.
Perhaps we ought to live in an almshouse.

You'd be a marvellous photographer -
you enlarge everything.

That's not a very fair remark,

coming from someone who's forbidden me
to burn a light bulb in my own house.

I'm just saying, you might save it sometimes.

When you're upstairs and you come downstairs,
turn off the light upstairs.

- And fall down the stairs.
- What?

If you want me to fall down the stairs, why
don't you trip me up or loosen the stair rods

or simply throw me bodily down
and have done with it?

- Don't tempt me.
TOM: Shut up!

Now, look, I am the centre of attraction
at the moment.

Unless I do my nude clog dance
on the draining board.

Ah! Unless you do your nude clog dance, yes.

In the meantime,
it's Tom Good and his magic switch.

On, off. On, off.

On.

Off.

And his lovely assistant Rita
who does it left-handed.

On, off. On, off, On, off!

Thank you, Rita.
For my next trick I shall make Margo smile.

You two really are...

You're getting a bit above yourselves. Anybody
would think you invented electricity itself.

At least you agree with me on something, Jerry.

Even if you did start a silly argument
in front of Tom and Barbara

and threaten to throw me down the stairs.

I'll come back to my original point.
I would rather rely on the National Grid system.

Unless, of course, there are power cuts.

What's that, Barbara?

Well, this mob of Neo-Marxists
down the power station are threatening cuts.

- Imminent, you said, Margo?
- Imminent.

Likely. Possible. I mean, it's all the same word.

Well, I hope they change their minds.
I mean, power cuts can be rotten.

Especially for people
without their own generators.

For people without their own generators,
it will be terrible.

Power cuts cause accidents sometimes.
People falling downstairs in the dark.

Yes. Quite, quite.

It must be rotten not to have your own
generator.

- You two are bloody unbearable, aren't you?
- Fairly.

I'll be unbearable now. What's for lunch?

Bread and cheese.

We are having game soup, smoked salmon,
and a rather drinkable bottle of hock.

- Are you ready, Margo?
- Bravo, Jerry.

A point to us.

I will say this, Tom and Barbara...

pride has been known to come before a fall.

Oh, well. Don't forget your candles.

Thank you very much.

- (Chuckles)
- Dear old Margo. I do like her.

I don't know. She offers herself
up to the slaughter so readily.

- Hey. Bread and cheese!
- Right. Cheese.

Right.

Ah! (Sniffs) Good old Geraldine.

- Bread?
- Bread.

Right.

Come along, woman, I'm starving. Food, food!

Ah...

Bread.

Bread?

What are you having?

You know, your back garden
looks just as ridiculous as your front garden.

Hello, Jerry.

Pigs said their first word yet?

They put on 5Ib last week.

Look at the size of those beans -
broad, French, dwarfs, runners.

I'm picking radishes and lettuces.
The goat gave us a fright. Very poorly, she was.

You're becoming a self-sufficiency bore.

Give it a rest. Come and have a round of golf.

You're joking.
How come you've got Friday off, anyway?

- Been crawling round Sir again?
- Yes.

Or fishing. We haven't been fishing for ages.

I haven't got time for all that.

You're not as much fun as you used to be, Tom.

Shouldn't have married me, then, should you?

- Those lettuces look very nice.
- Want one?

Thanks.

Swap you for a fag.

This is the man who used to throw away
his Luncheon Vouchers.

Ah, ta. Haven't had a drag for weeks.

There we are.

Cor, blimey.

It doesn't half make your head go round,
doesn't it.

Ah. Typical Jerry.

He's got the day off and all he's doing
is mooning about in his back garden.

He looks like a little boy
who's got nobody to play with.

He could play with Margo.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Never in the afternoons.

He only wanted me to go fishing. Fishing, ha!

As if I've got time to go fishing.

I think that's a very good idea.
I think you should go fishing.

I can manage here on my own quite easily.

So, you want me out of the house.

You're having an affair, aren't you?

Come on. Who is your paramour?
It's the postman, isn't it?

Yes, I thought so.
He's been franking your neck again.

I couldn't help myself.

What woman could say no
to a bit of first class mail?

I think you should go fishing.

What's the point?

Fish is food. Fresh food, that's the point.

Look, where we go isn't all your trout
and salmon, and reserved casting stations.

It's just tench and perch
and push in where you can.

So? Tench soufflé,
grilled perch with bay leaves. Fantastic.

That's to say nothing of pike and carp.

Where did you learn all this?

There are hundreds of things that people
don't eat any more but most of them are free,

including freshwater fish.

- Look at that.
- What's this?

Forgotten Foods.

I can see why they call it that.
There's a bit of jam on page 38.

It's a library book. I got it the other day
when I was grazing the goat on the common.

You didn't take the goat in the library?

No, no. She hasn't got a ticket.

I left her in the bicycle racks.

The point is, Tom,
this book could be a goldmine.

There are so many things
people don't eat any more, but we should.

Cheap things,
just because they're not fashionable.

Like pigeon.
Pigeons aren't posh anymore.

And hares and eels and all sorts of things.

I see what you mean. Tick, VG. What about
this?

- Wall fruit.
- That sounds nice. What's that?

Dorsetshire snails.

Oh, English escargots.

All we need is the £8,000 rail fare to Dorset.
We could get them for nothing.

I wonder what Surbiton snails taste like.

- Rabbits.
- No, they're not at all like rabbits.

Half a mile up the road, on the golf course.

I've driven off with a whole gallery of rabbits
watching me.

- They're all dinners.
- Exactly.

And they're not cheap, they're free.

Next time I play golf I won't take a 1-iron,
I'll take a 12-bore.

Never mind about the rabbits,
there's that river full of fish.

You probably haven't thought of this
but I should go fishing.

Oh, clear off.

Urgh. Not too keen.

You're not supposed to be.
It's for the chickens.

(Clucks)

You said just five more minutes an hour ago.

You can imagine what it must have felt like,
can't you?

Standing in the water with your wooden spear,
waiting, waiting.

It's about the one thing you haven't tried.

Come on, I'm getting chilly.

- You mean the pub's open?
- Yes.

All right. Get the car down, I'll pack my rods up.

My rods, actually.

- I see you've been playing the field, old man.
- Blanket bombing.

As you progress in the sport,
you'll want to specialise.

Not me, mate. Anything that swims, I'll have it.

May I?

Yes.

Yes. As I thought. Quantity, not quality.

- I'll chuck them back for you, shall I, old man'?
- Get off!

Sorry, I thought you'd finished for the day.

- I have.
- You're not taking them home, are you?

No, we thought we'd all go to a dance
this evening. Of course I am.

Nope. You don't do that, old man.

It's not done. Not that size.
There's nothing worth mounting there.

I'm not mounting them,
I'm going to eat them.

I'm going to have to say this.

You're the sort of element
we don't want creeping into the sport.

Sport? You call pulling them out, ripping a hole
in their top lip and chucking them back sport?

Learn your ichthyology, old man.

They don't feel anything.

They don't have nerves in the upper lip.

I see. So they pop their heads out of the water
and say, "Thanks for the game," do they?

What you're doing is no better.

It is. I'm doing them justice by eating them.
On this occasion, I win.

If it was me having a swim
and along came a shark, he'd win.

I suppose you'd smile as he gobbled you up,
would you?

I can't guarantee that, no.

What are you, anyway? Some sort of anarchist?

No, I'm a mind-your-own-business-ist.
Now, push off.

With alacrity. But I'll say this in going.

I think you're a bloody unmitigated scoundrel.

You what?

Now, don't be silly.

I wear glasses normally.

- I'm in insurance.
- Then you'd better get yourself a policy.

- Pack it in.
- I've finished with people telling me what to do.

Come away.

I thought berks like him didn't exist any more.

Pack up the rods and we'll go and have a drink.

- All right, all right.
- Tiger.

- Yeah, well.
- He'll spoil it for everybody, riffraff like that.

Right!

Oh.

(Thumping and wheezing)

In they go. Lovely.

Well, worth doing, wasn't it?

There's a good few meals in there. Very nice,
too, if that bream was anything to go by.

Yes. Of course, there are still some people
who believe you can't eat freshwater fish.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

- Yeah?
- (Squeals)

JERRY: Anybody down there?

Who dat up there saying who dat down there?

Jerry.

Your au pair girl.

- Hello, Jerry.
- Hello, you two.

- You don't half stink.
- Smoothie.

- What is it?
- Fish cologne. We've been gutting all morning.

The fun you have in this house.

- Thanks for coming round, Jerry.
- Just tell me what you want me to do.

It's Saturday. I've got a lot of sleeping to get in.

We only want you to wait in for a bloke.

When he arrives,
what physical excesses do I have to indulge in?

Just let him in, will you? He's an electrician.
He has to certify that my circuitry is safe.

How much do I drop him to say that it is?

- Oh, ye of little faith.
- Where are you two going?

They felled a big tree on the common.

The council say we can chop off
as much wood as we like.

Gutting fish and chopping wood -
what fun you have.

Where are you taking your holidays?
Labour camp?

Of course, two blokes could chop more wood.

No.

No? Oh, all right, Jerry, I'll... (Coughs)

I'll do the best I can
with what little strength I've got left.

That's right. Bye-bye.

Do you mean you can stand there
and let a woman go chopping?

Easily.
You've made your perverted bed, you lie on it.

I'm just going to sit here
and grow my brewers' goitre.

What's this?

Is it one of these vibro-massage chairs?

It's the generator does that.
Just that one spot. I don't know why.

If I lose my cocktail shaker,
I shall know where to come.

Off you go, Hansel and Gretel.

Cheerio, then.

Of course, the trouble is, getting the logs home,
isn't it, love?

Yes, not having a car.

- No car, you see.
- No car.

- A bit dodgy without a car.
- Oh, all right.

Here you are.

- Thanks, Jerry.
- Thanks, Jerry.

Off you go, my children.

Watch out for wolves.

Jerry?

Jerry!

- Jerry.
- What? Eh?

These gloves were a present from my mother.

Mean old trout. They're coming apart.

They're not coming apart. I've torn them
to shreds on those stones in the rockery.

Stones which you should have been lifting.

I'm doing something for Tom and Barbara.

Seeing whether their sofa will bear your weight,
presumably.

Come and have a cuddle.

Jerry, don't.

It's broad daylight.

We're in someone else's house.

No, I'm sorry.

You're not shaking.

Why should I be? I don't find the thought of
improvised love-making erotic.

No, no, that chair should be shaking.

Blimey. Their generator's packed up.

I'm not surprised at that.

Oh, well,
there's obviously nothing you can do about it.

Why don't we go home and um...

we could... well, we could...

Yes.

I'd better have a look at it, I suppose.

Well, that's the last time
I play the tart for you, Jerry.

4 To think that I shall never see

4 A thing as lovely as a tree

I'll stick a log in your mouth if you don't shut up.

JERRY: Tom, is that you?

- Who dat down there?
- Come here, quick.

- Oh, bloody marvellous!
- I don't know what's wrong with it.

- When did it stop, Jerry?
- Not sure. I fell asleep.

- You lazy great twit.
- I shouldn't have been able to fix it anyway.

It's not a nuclear reactor.
Leave you in charge and this happens.

I was waiting in for some bod
who never turned up.

It was not in my brief
to play nursemaid to this contraption.

But I explained it. It's simplicity itself.

Well, you make it work. You're simple.

- That wasn't very fair, was it?
- No. Because I'm an unfair person.

That's the trouble with do-it-yourself.
It sometimes does it back.

- Turn her over, will you.
- Who?

- Mrs Flywheel.
- Oh, right.

(Strangled whir)

- Yes, I thought so.
- What?

It doesn't work.

I know what it is. It's that intake valve.
Teach me not to cut corners with Army surplus.

You should have been suspicious
when you saw Kitchener's picture on the box.

- Think you can fix it?
- No. Have to get a new one.

That won't be till Monday now.

Oh, dear.

Why? What's the matter, my dear?

Does the thought of two candlelit nights with me
frighten you?

No, candlelight turns me on
but it's going to make the fish go off.

Oh, blast.

We can always refreeze them.

- Bacillus coli.
- What?

If we refreeze them,
bacteria in the gut is a good chance.

Oh, yeah.

- How long before they defrost?
- Not long. Why?

Those fish gave you a hard day's labour.

You had to fight off half a dozen anglers
even to get them here.

Yes, true, yes.

There must be some alternative.
Come on, brain.

Don't let me down,
just as I was getting to like you.

Bong!

Are you chiming or have you had an idea?

(Door chimes)

Ah. (Laughs nervously)

Hello, Jerry.

Sorry about the shout-up.

It's all right.

- I wonder if you could do us a great favour.
- What does it involve?

Could you stick these in your freezer
till Monday?

No, sorry.

You petty-minded little ratbag.
Just because I called you a few names.

- It's not that.
- What is it, then?

We're having a power cut.

Of course, it doesn't affect people
with their own generators.

Oh, Tom.

Care to borrow a candle?

(Jerry chuckles)