Original subtitles

PANTING AND FUMBLING

OK, what happens next? Just, this is the first time

I've had casual sex this century, and you know...

OK, admittedly, last century wasn't exactly chocker-full of

no-strings knobbing, but...

Seriously, this is the first time in many moons that

I made love to someone I didn't at least have a mortgage with.

- Thanks for making me the exception. - That's no problem.

We could...

take out a small loan together if it'd make you feel more comfortable.

- A joint credit card, perhaps? - It's all right.

Well, thank you.

I'm really, really honoured to be

your first meaningless fuck of the new millennium.

Yeah, cos I'm assuming what happens next,

even though we're not buying a house together, the next stage is

something like you say to me, "What are you thinking?"

And I say, "I was thinking,

"Can I make it as far as my trousers

"without you getting a proper look at my cock?"

Which you probably won't think is funny.

You'll just think it's a bloody stupid and juvenile and sad way of avoiding

a serious question. To quote my ex-wife.

So... how should I play it?

I mean, I assume I'm staying. Am I here for the night?

Or should I be more like, "Thanks for the shag, Helen,

"but I'm afraid I've got a meeting!"

I'll just call you a cab.

I haven't really got a meeting. In fact, I'm pretty much free till breakfast.

Just... I've got an early start.

- Whoa! That's a lot of rubber johnnies. - Where to?

Seriously, I admire your confidence. My brief spell as a user,

I was only prepared to commit to a packet of three.

- What's your address? - OK, I was 16, money was a factor.

But when you shelled out on that lot, you were really saying something.

"I'm not afraid to shop on the internet?"

You were saying, "It's 2009.

"I'm an independent woman and I can buy condoms.

"I can buy hundreds of condoms. Doesn't make me a slut."

- Oh. Is that what I was saying? - Yeah. I think it's rather moving!

Or was I actually saying, "This is 2008.

"This is 2008 and I'm going to buy some condoms to have sex with my fiancé"?

- With Pete... - Pete.

And Pete...

And Pete...

And Pete. And Pete. And Pete...

Yeah, I know they're a bit shit, but...

We had them done just before he died.

CHUCKLES

Oh, bloody hell, go on, then...

"What are you thinking?"

I was thinking...

it's Father's Day on Sunday and I'm not going to be with my children.

That's not funny.

Not immediately, no, but, er...

But give it a minute, it might be a grower.

CRIES

MAN ON PHONE: Minicab.

Good morning, my dear cunts!

I want to hear all about the exciting new talent

you've signed for the agency this week. But first,

let's kick off, as always, with what really matters in show business -

which of you mother-lovers got laid last night?

- Alex? - No. Ah, no.

Please, not today, Stephen. Pick on someone else, I'm not in the mood.

You've been fucking, haven't you? You've been bashing some gash!

You've been bringing some cheap little tart back here after hours

and pumping her up against a filing cabinet!

Nice pair of mollies, had she?

Did you dip it in the brown?

- It's not my turn! What about Dan? - Hold the phone, douche-bag.

- I did cyber-sex last week. - Oh, yeah, sorry. I forgot.

Unless you want me to do that whole shtick about the air hostess

rubbing her pink bits against me on the Tube?

No. I think we're all in the mood for

some good, honest, old-fashioned flesh and bone f-f-f-fucking.

- (All) Yes! - Aren't we, Alex?

- Foreplay? - No. Cut to the dick.

All right. She gave me a ten-minute tit wank on the boardroom table.

I knew it!

Then I'm lashed to the photocopier for a spot of tie and tease.

She spanked me.

She wanked me. She felched me. She rimmed me.

Then she bummed me up the starfish with a jumbo-sized glue stick.

- Whilst reciting the client list? - Naturally.

You dirty little deviant.

Congratulations. You must be feeling very proud.

Proud, yeah. Also used.

Kind of empty. And yet curiously confident of my Christmas bonus.

Oh, and Alex? About the jumbo-sized glue stick?

You only had to ask.

Various arseholes phoned for you. Most of whom think it's OK to be

bloody rude to me just cos I'm young and get paid jack shit.

Oh, and Laura called. So did Laura. And then Laura...

In other words, do me a fucking favour and call your ex-wife.

DOOR OPENS

By the way, bum-chum, security say you're sleeping in the office again.

Oh. Yeah...

Yes. Could I just mention, before you bang on,

that despite my own extensive experience of getting divorced,

there's no point in telling me about it

because the awful truth is I'm not remotely interested. Ciao!

PHONE RINGS

- All right, I'm asking. - For the glue stick?

Because all I can offer you right now in the adhesive sex toys department is a...

small roll of Sellotape.

It's a touch serial killer for my taste, but...

I'm game if you are.

I was thinking more, dinner, movie...

Back to yours for a bunk-up. Rain check on the office supplies.

Er, I... I don't think that's a good idea.

All right. Bring the bloody Sellotape if it all sounds too tame.

No, I don't think it's a good idea for us to...

sleep together. Ever again.

DIAL TONE

I don't always cry after sex, you know.

Before and during - admittedly, that's pretty much standard, but...

It's not that. I like men who cry. I've got a thing about it.

We should get married. You'd be very happy.

- You're not ready for a relationship. - That's bollocks.

- You're a mess. - That isn't bollocks.

It's all too raw. Too soon. But believe me, I've been there.

You'll get through this,

you'll come out a better, stronger person. Whoa!

Good morning, Mr Magpie. And how's your fucking mate?

Wow. Never heard that one before.

I guess I'm just a member of the one-for-sorrow brigade.

That doesn't work. You've gotta stop, say good morning...

- I'm not really superstitious. - Oh, well, guess what? Neither was I,

until my fiancé dropped dead at 34.

Yeah, well, can we really blame that on bad karma?

Or an undetected heart condition, like you said.

- We'll be late. - Alex, please...

Look, I don't believe in that shit.

Well, you not believing that shit has really worked a treat, hasn't it?

Good morning, er, Mr Magpie. What was it?

- How's your fucking mate? - How's your fucking mate? OK?

Now, you've got to hop forward five paces,

with hands on your hips and waggle your arse.

(LAUGHS)

Sorry... sorry. I made the last bit up.

Don't mind me. You knock yourself out.

LAUGHS

Hi, we're here for the preview screening.

You're wrong, Helen, that's what I'm saying. I am ready.

Yeah, of course I'm fucked up. But I'm only as fucked up as you.

Give or take a neurosis, or three,

we're just about even. We're perfect for each other.

What do you say we make a go of it, you nut job?

Not in this lifetime, buster.

I'm dumped?

Shhh!

No. Because that would imply we had a relationship.

We had sex.

Oh...

Can I tell you something truly amazing

that's happened in the last four decades? Apart from colour TV,

and Nelson Mandela getting out of the nick. You can have sex with someone,

and you don't have to spend the rest of your life with them.

You can go all the way and you don't have to propose.

Speak for yourself. As far as I'm concerned,

we were engaged the moment we locked tongues.

In fact, I have to tell you, my darling,

because I'm divorced, it's going to have to be a registry...

It's because we work together, isn't it?

Richard and Judy. The Osbournes.

Sarah Michelle Gellar and Freddie Prinze Junior...

- They don't work together. - They have.

They worked together when they met on I Know what You Did Last Summer.

Since they've been married they've done both Scooby-Doos.

She didn't do the sequel.

Monsters Unleashed? She certainly did.

No, she would not do the sequel. She had a serious film career.

- Have you actually seen the movie? - Of course not.

Yeah, well, I have, twice in the cinema, and about 150 bloody times on DVD.

Usually just before dawn with two hyperactive children.

- I'm telling you, she's in it. - She's not!

She is!

Scooby-Doo 2. Have you got it?

Sorry, love. Got the new Harry Potter, though.

What? That's not even in the cinemas yet. That's theft!

You're killing the British film industry!

- I'm checking with her manager. - Oh, for God's sake.

- It's the middle of the night in LA. - You know these American agents.

- They're 24/7. - Look, stop, stop. Please. Please.

Let's just... Let's just stop all this.

I mean, look at you.

You're a wreck.

You're a vaguely loveable sort of wreck, OK? But honestly,

if you think it's right for us to be together, then...

let's face it, it's got to be wrong.

Alex?

Alex, don't go back to work.

Just go home.

Where's that?

I don't know... Where are you living?

Oh, um, well, it's... it's just for now, it's very central.

It's 20,000 square feet.

Air-conditioned. Lots of glass.

Right. Well...

Then put yourself out there, man.

Take some lucky girl back to your massive...

loft-apartment-type place, and bounce her off the walls. Go wild!

Yeah, I don't do wild, OK? I do cautious.

I do inhibited. I do worried and fearful.

You did wild with me.

Yeah, and look what a fucking disaster that turned out to be!

From now on, I'm sticking with my old mates, Scared and Repressed.

(LAUGHS)

- Oh, don't do that. - What?

Don't say you don't want to go out with me, and then laugh at my jokes.

I hate it when that happens.

SIGHS

These are good, aren't they?

You get a little hole where you can put your cup. It's brilliant.

You're not going to cry again, are you?

I might. Why not? I already hopped across Soho Square

in front of half the frigging industry.

Faked a dodgy sex session just to please my depraved boss.

So what's a brief sob in Berwick Street? In fact,

fuck it, let's grab a cappuccino,

then I'm taking a stroll down Leicester Square

with my cock hanging out. Oh, thanks for listening!

Oh, no, thanks. I'm just browsing.

Dan. There's a Jody Singer here to see you.

And me.

- Yeah, but mainly Dan. - No, not mainly Dan, actually.

We both saw her in that frigging play the other night

and Jody's mainly here to see mainly both of us. Equally!

What do you want, a medal?

Jesus!

It's only... a lot of people have said to me,

"Jody, you're just out of drama school,

"you don't want to join an agency as big and scary as CMA."

Plus everybody totally warned me off him!

(Alex) Oh, yes.

And what did everybody say about me?

Nothing.

Well, that's, you know...

Flying under the radar. That's just how I like it.

So, um, what I...

Oh. This is my assistant, Emma.

Your assistant?

- Helen's and Dan's... and mine. - I take messages for you. Sometimes.

- What do you want? - Your ex is on the phone.

- Well, tell Laura I'm in a meeting. - I did.

Tell her again.

Please.

Fucking Media Studies!

Anyway, what I wanted to say was... MOBILE VIBRATES

Why come to CMA?

What is it that this agency can do for you

that all the others you're meeting can't?

Um... ultimately, it's about building your career.

It's about experience and professionalism.

It's about making use

of the relationship we have with producers and directors.

Look, everybody wanna fuck you.

He doesn't mean sexually. It's important to do theatre...

Everybody wanna fuck you, and it's like,

do you wanna be with an agency that lets you get fucked?

Or do you wanna be with an agency that's gonna take the fuck for you?

Cos that's what CMA do, right,

we bend and we spread and we take the fuck for our clients. Right, Alex?

Very much so, yeah.

These other agents you're seeing, these gentlemen.

They're wimps and they're yes-men. They're pussies. I'm not a pussy.

I'm a cunt.

And what are you?

Oh, I'm not a cunt. MOBILE VIBRATES

But I know how to be one.

Fuck off, Laura!

OK! I'm trying to earn a living. I'm trying to support our children.

I'm trying to cling on

to the tiny part of my life that's actually fucking left to me!

What about Parents, Evening?

No, of course I hadn't forgotten.

Yeah, I'll see you tomor...

I am so sorry about that.

I'm just... getting divorced.

Suddenly it's like I'm shouting, screaming,

crying all the time.

Really?

Amazing.

Helen!

Come on, you shit-kissers, it's eight o'clock.

We've all got homes to go to.

Apart from Alex, of course. LAUGHS

Sorry, old shit.

You know what I'd do?

Go and see the mother of your children

and ask her for her forgiveness. Admit it was all a terrible mistake

and beg her to let you come home to the family.

That way, you'll buy yourself a few weeks of happy-you're-home humping,

plus the time to sort yourself out a new flat

before you fuck off back to freedom.

It works, honestly.

Although, voice of experience,

you generally only get away with it once every marriage.

Having a party, love?

No.

- How's Mum? - Good, yes.

- She still hates you. - She doesn't, shut up!

- She doesn't hate you, Dad. - I don't think she hates me, Bill.

OK. She does, though.

- Still living in the office? - Yeah.

Oh, look at this. Thanks for the duvet, Bill.

That's OK. You forgot your fucking pillowcase, you knobhead.

LAUGHS Oh!

Come on then, big boy.

Let's have a quick one for old time's sake!

DOORBELL RINGS

Sorry, Pete.

Don't panic. I'm not going to camp out on your doorstep

until you promise to go out with me.

Good. >

Like I did with Lucy Thomas.

Thank God.

And Carol Pritchard.

No, I'm joking, that part of my life's over.

I learnt that in therapy.

Actually, I've never been to therapy.

I don't need it.

Of course you don't.

No, I don't.

I'm really not like that.

This afternoon, going all Gordon Ramsay.

That wasn't me.

Was it not?

It certainly looked like you.

Look, it's all right. Your life is falling apart.

You're allowed to scream and shout a bit.

Thanks. You were right, though. I'm not ready for a relationship.

I'm not fit to exchange bodily fluids on a regular basis

with another human being. I should go to a monastery.

Or lock myself away with a stack of pornography

till I've wanked out all the evil.

Right... are you sure you don't need that therapist?

Yeah. You know, I was thinking,

um... some time, when... um...

When you've wanked out all the evil?

Yeah, then. I was... Maybe... you and I, we could...

Maybe.

Blimey. What happened to Pete?

Oh, um...

Subsidence.

Oh. I got you this.

Scooby-Doo 2.

And there she is - Sarah Michelle Gellar.

I thank you.

You actually went out and... You are so fucking sad.

Yeah, I am. I'm also broke, homeless,

and about as sexually sophisticated as a 15-year-old born-again Christian.

Any chance of a shag?

I thought you weren't ready for a relationship.

I'm not. But with your support, I might be able to summon

enough emotional strength to let you give me a blowjob.

Oh, no.

Are you OK? Am I hurting you?

I just...

It's OK. I just...

Could you... maybe just move... Oh, that's better!

Yeah?

Oh, thank... God! Oh!

I love you.

What?

What did you say?

I said, "I love you".

No, you don't.

I didn't say it to you.

Really?

That's funny, I don't remember this being a threesome.

I was saying it to my kids.

Stop this! What do you want me to say to them, for God's sake?

"Sorry, boys, you don't know me, but I've just had sex with your daddy!"

They're not on the phone, Helen. I was talking to their picture.

Hello?

Hello?

You never find yourself talking to the Petes?

- I don't love you, Helen. - Great. Thank you.

I've had it with love!

Love's the last thing I want.

The thing is, right, what you've got to remember is...

I am 36 years old and I have never been rimmed.

That's not what you said in the office.

I have never snogged a lesbian while her girlfriend milks my manhood.

I want to snort coke off a concubine.

I want to lick organic yoghurt off her quim.

Quim! I used to love that word, quim.

I want cluster-fucks. I want daisy chains.

I want hot golden showers!

- No, you don't. - No, I don't!

CHUCKLES

SOBS

(Man) Minicab.