All language subtitles for Are You Being Served s09e04 Calling All Customers

First floor, perfumery, stationery and
leather goods. Waste and haberdashery.

Kitchenware and food.

First floor,

telecoms, just ready -made food.

Hurry up, Mr Harman. We have a most
important meeting this morning. Well,

aren't all here yet.

Now, where would you like the executive
chair placed? At the end of the table or

in the middle?

I shall sit in the middle. Miss
Belfridge will sit at the end and take

minutes. Forward, Warwick.

Uh, coffee all round?

Uh, yes.

Come along, Captain Peacock, Miss
Brahms, and you, Spooner.

This is a think -tank meeting, and it
was called for 8 .30.

This meeting also includes Mr Humphreys
and Mrs Slocum. Until they arrive, I

have no intention of discussing
anything.

8 .32, where can they be?

It's not like Mrs Slocum to be late.

Oh, didn't she tell you? She and Miss
Rumpish went to a party last night. It

fancy dress.

No, she thought you were too posh for
it.

But if I was too posh for it, why
weren't she too posh for it? Well, she

get asked very often, so she has to take
what she can get.

What did she go as?

I've no idea.

But I know she got some of her outfit
from bathroom fittings.

Probably went as an old boiler.

Mr Hart, I strongly disapprove of you
making disparaging remarks about senior

salespersons. Mrs Slocum is highly
regarded both by myself and my whole

department. A seconder.

None. Counties and higher whopper.

I was so far away late for the meeting
that me and Mr. Humphreys never got home

last night.

What happened?

Well, I borrowed me mother's little
three -wheeler. We had to go to this

in Peckham. And we couldn't go on the
bus because it was fancy dress.

I would never have guessed.

It was a punk and funk.

of Hell's Angels found out about it and
they besieged the house.

And we couldn't leave.

So early this morning, Mr. Humphreys
shinned down a drainpipe and ran off to

attract a policeman.

Wouldn't have much trouble dressed like
that.

There wasn't a policeman in sight.

I went up to this man. I said, are there
any police round here? He said no and

handed me his wallet.

I chased him for about half a mile. When
I caught up with him, I was surrounded

by police vans and I had a lot of
explaining to do.

Which is why we're late.

Well, I can't delay this meeting any
longer. I have to see Mr. Grace in a few

minutes. Well, haven't we time to just
change into something from... Once I've

heard your ideas, then you may change.

You were right. I was too posh for it.

Oh, that's my mother's CB radio.

We've got another one like this at home
so that we can keep in touch with each

other. But I brought it in from the car
because I didn't want it to get stolen.

Please

can we start

this meeting?

Now, very briefly, and to recap, sales
are down to critical level.

We need new ideas to boost them.

Mr. Grace, as you know, was considering
taking time on commercial television,

but the cost was too high.

So we decided to use commercial radio
instead.

Well, I hope you've all done your
homework on this, as I have to place our

collective ideas before Mr.

Grace. So, what have you come up with?

I thought a bargain sale.

That's not very original.

I said I'd thought of it.

Then I thought, I'm not on commission.

So why should I bother racking my brains
to try to prevent something that's

inevitable? Captain Peacock, if this
department goes down, what will you do?

Probably salute.

Oh, see who that is.

Well, Mrs. Slocum, did you have any time
last night to consider our problem?

Well, no. I was too busy getting into my
gear.

Well, what's the point of coming in
early without any ideas?

You did.

Grace on the phone. He wants your ideas
on a radio commercial now.

But I haven't... I mean, we haven't got
any.

Oh! You've got an idea. No, no, no, no.
But I've just thought I ought to ring my

neighbour and ask her to look in on my
pussy.

She's very, very worried because I
wasn't home all last night.

You'll be at home all day with your cat
if this department closes. At the

moment, our very existence depends upon
one good idea.

Well... Oh, for heaven's sake, surely
someone's got an idea.

Who, receiving me?

Loud and clear, but I can't talk to you
now because I'm at work. Over and out.

Now, please, your whole lifestyle never
ceases to amaze me.

Who was that?

Well, it's very lonely out on the open
road. You can get in contact with all

kinds of people. This has got a very
long range.

That was an articulated lorry driver.

I thought he spoke well.

That is just what I'm looking for. Well,
you'll have to hurry up. He's heading

for Dover.

No, no, no. I mean for our commercial.

We'll do it on CB radio.

It won't cost anything. I'm sure it's an
idea I can sell to Mr. Grace. Well

done, team.

Come along, Mr. Humphreys.

Well, while I've got time, I'm going to
Pam's pantry for a decent cup of coffee.

Well, you saved the day, Mr. Humphreys.
Well, it could work.

What's your range?

With larger batteries, only.

Oh, come on.

Yes, go on. Let's see who we can find.
Right then.

There you are. You're on the air.

Oh, what do I say?

Just give him your handle and see what
you get.

Oh, right.

Hello, CB Buffs. Big Bert Spooner here.

If there's anybody out there, come in.

Hello, Mr Spooner.

Could you tell me a bit more about
yourself?

Oh, yeah.

I'm tall, dark and handsome.

Where do you live, Mr Spooner?

Well, baby...

Before I give you the address of my pad
with its low lights and sexy sounds, I'd

like you to give me your handle and a
quick rundown on your vital statistics.

I'm blonde, 5 foot 10, big blue eyes,
and weigh 120

pounds.

Just what I'm looking for. What are you
driving?

I'm in a blue Panda police car and I'm
proceeding in the direction of your

voice.

Police band, I do wish you wouldn't
interfere with my equipment. You'll get

arrested.

Can't you spoil it? Oh, and I never had
to go.

I'll go on. Oh, yeah, they won't find us
now it's been turned off. Well, you're

on the air.

Hello?

Break off, break off.

Is there anyone out there who wishes to
speak to anyone in here?

Big joke, McGuck. And I'm driving
dynamite to a quarry at Graveden.

Oh, how brave.

You've a bonny voice, lassie. What's
your chassis like? What's on the clock?

I beg your pardon?

What she means is, what do you look like
and how old are you?

Oh!

Well,

my chassis is 3828.

38. But the MOT's run out.

My age is a secret, but it's well...

when he's talking to the oldest punk
rockette in the world.

Oh, shut up. I'm enjoying it.

Have you got any hobbies?

Oh, yes.

And gardening.

Oh, gardening, aye.

And the occasional flutter at the bingo.

Bingo, aye.

Oh, and I make all my own marmalade.

Quite a homebody.

Oh, I am. And I make all my own jumpers.
Oh, yes.

And I've just finished the bedspread.

Limey, should we tell him about her cat
next?

Yes, yes. On the mantelpiece in my
parlour, I've got a whole row of silver

Oh, and what are they for?

Oh, they're for my pussy.

Do you know, it wins a prize every time
I show it.

What's happened?

I think he's pulled off for a coffee.

Congratulations. I hear Mr Grace went
overboard when he heard about you lot

doing your commercial for CB Radio.

That's because it don't cost nothing.

There's a strong rumour in packing that
you're going to do a sort of Mrs Dale

starring to attract attention and then
pop into commercial.

Well, we haven't actually decided on a
story yet.

That's what we're trying to work on now.

Well, as I gather you're being offered a
tenner per episode, I thought I'd put

my literary talent at your disposal.

There's one or two stories about this
place I could tell you. I think we can

manage without your help.

There's one particular one about a floor
walker trapped in the lift with a

certain Miss Johnson of novelty candles
that has hitherto been untold.

Well, of course, if we do need your
assistance in any way, we'll of course

you know.

Yes, I thought you might.

Have a nice day.

Who was he talking about?

I have no idea.

And rather than indulge in idle
speculation, I suggest that we

thinking of a subject of general
interest that will attract listener

Yeah, a sort of English Dallas full of
sex and intrigue.

We've already got one.

Who does he call?

Range Hill.

How about a sort of bride's head
revisited?

Too posh. For you, perhaps.

As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing
wrong with hearing the correct

pronunciation of the English language.

Are you suggesting I'm common?

I'm simply saying that we are a great
nation with a great language, which is

international. We have the finest
classical writers in the world, so why

we do something like, um, well,
Foresight Saga?

You could always play a skivvy.

He's always saying things to me like
that because he knows I live in a semi

-detached house.

He thinks Everyone's common for in. Oh,
of course he doesn't. Will you calm

down? It's no good us arguing amongst
ourselves.

I'm sure Captain Peacock didn't mean to
upset you.

And you know, in upstairs, downstairs,
some of the best parts were downstairs.

Why don't we do that? We could all be
downstairs.

Captain Peacock could be upstairs.

I can talk posh if I want to.

And if he keeps going on at me, I shall
finish my dinner at another table.

Lunch? In England, we call it lunch.

Well, if England's a great country,
you've cracked it up to be.

How come we've all got inflation and
strikes and rain all the time?

What's so great about England?

I shall tell you what is great about
England, Miss Brown.

It is the one great country in the world
that isn't semi -detached.

Right, that's it. I'm going to put my
own story in and get that.

If we're not all together on this, I've
got a good idea to do me own as well.

All I need's a title.

How about The Further Adventures of
Corky the Cat?

Right, I'll have my dinner at another
table.

Well, I did have the germ of an idea.

But if we're not all going to pool our
notions, I think I shall go to the

ladies' restaurant and have a cogitate.

Oh, seem to have lost Barbara Cartland.

Looks like just you and me.

Perhaps not even that many.

I think my army career, particularly the
desert campaign, would make a quite

absorbing story, which would run to a
great number of episodes.

Oh, I'm sure it would. After all, it's a
long way from a corporal in the pioneer

corps to bride's head revisitor.

I shall go and have my dinner at another
table.

Ah, Peacock, how are the ideas coming?
Thick and fast?

We've elected to make individual
submissions, sir. Oh, excellent.

Well, I'll see you in my office on
Monday at five o 'clock. That will give

Belfridge time to read the submissions.

Miss Belfridge?

Yes. She has an O -level in English
literature, haven't you? That's right.

Oh.

Not just a pretty face.

Thank you, Steve.

Enjoy your dinner.

Dinner.

Oh, yes, Mr. Grace. I'm sure my
department can do it.

You love the idea.

Oh, good.

Thank you very much, then.

Enter.

The literary giant sits outside, sir.
Oh, show them in.

Mr. Ruggard will see you now. Come on,
ladies.

I must say I'm very impressed with the
general quality of the submissions.

Thank you, sir.

Of course, we only pay on acceptance,
but at £10 a time, if the idea takes

that could amount to a very considerable
sum.

And in addition, there would be a
performing fee.

How much?

Well, that depends on the size of your
pot.

You should do well.

Ignoring. I am.

Miss Belfort has evaluated each story in
order of merit. We have some

unsuspected talent in our midst.

Of course, we can only do one story.

Now, we start with Mr. Fuller. Miss
Belfort has given you two stars.

Subject matter, good.

Science fiction is always popular. E .T.
and all that sort of thing.

But we found the plot rather far
-fetched.

What's so far -fetched about a
government under the control of a giant

jelly hiding in the directory inquiry
section of the GPO?

Rather flimsy.

You ever tried ringing directory
inquiries? They never answer. Why?

Because the jelly's been there so long,
it's set.

Exactly.

Now, Miss France, we don't seem to have
received your submission.

Oh, I've got it here.

It's the story of a common girl who is
rejected by her title suitor because of

her poor background.

That has the ring of truth.

Yes, but she gets her revenge when she
wins the polls, ruins him on the stock

market and reduces him to living in a
semi -detached house in Surbiton.

It's a bit of an anticlimax.

But in episode two, he escapes, joins
the Foreign Legion, gets captured and

as a slave to a male harem in the Middle
East.

What utter poppycock.

There are no male harems in the Middle
East.

Oh, I could make it what fit?

No, no, much too fanciful.

Ah, now, Mrs. Slocum.

I must say, I found this quite good.

Oh, it just flowed out of me when I got
started.

Continental Journey.

It's the story of an ordinary housewife
who takes up truck driving to augment

her income.

I found some of the adventures with
hitchhikers a bit racy, to say the

Touch of the Harold Robbins.

Ah, but what about the Ian Fleming bit?
When she foils the hijacker who are

about to steal her consignment of
homemade marmalade.

Yes.

The heroine ought to be at least 30
years younger to make it believable.

She takes a herbal bath on nearly every
page.

A lot of men prefer older women.

I mean, what about that June Collins in
that dinner steak?

Yes, but she doesn't jump out of trucks
at 80 miles an hour with a spanner in

one hand shouting, hand over your smoky
or I'll put the boot in.

No, no, but I...

I think it's worth seven marks.

Oh, now, Mr Humphrey, what tile, what
imagination, what originality, what

ingenuity. What's all that blue pencil?
That's the bit we can't use.

What's that?

The title, Nellie the Naughty Nun, and
your name.

Send that to Radio 4. There's nothing in
there that isn't in the dictionary.

Yeah, but not all on the same page.

Well, now we come to Captain Peacock.
And, as one might expect, he's given us

erudite story of Harley life. Thank you,
sir.

Yeah, I'm confident that one can feel
the heat and the flies. One can smell

bazaars. One can share the agony and
ecstasy of the hero's remarkable story

the way he changed the course of world
history.

It could be... Brilliant piece of
writing.

Thank you, my dear.

But as Miss Belfridge pointed out,
merely copying T .E. Lawrence verbatim

quite what we wanted.

Well, I did make certain changes.

Peacock of Arabia was not quite enough.

Well, look, I've got seven points. So
does that mean I've won?

No, no. We've had a submission which had
all the right ingredients. Sort of Tom

Jones full of adventure and sex and
excitement.

Who wrote that?

Mr Harmon of Packing. You will all be
the stars playing all the parts. I

co -co.

I'm not doing this stuff when mine's
better.

If my Nellie's not in, I'm out.

Me too.

There's a hundred pounds in it. You're
on.

We're all set.

Right, thank you.

That was the costume, people. They want
their punk outfits back. We can't be

bothered with that now. I hope you've
got a good idea of your parts. Do try to

turn the pages quietly.

I notice the squire hasn't got much to
say. If you don't wish to be the squire

who is keen on the wenches, then I'll
play it. Mind you, I shall want extra

character work.

No, no, I think I've found the voice for
it.

How's this?

Right, young gym lad.

If I catch you round my little nail,
I'll horse with you within an inch of

life.

Well, if we had a parrot, we could do
treasure island.

Would you turn it down a little bit? It
wants to be more up a clutch.

Ah.

If I catch you round my little nail,
I'll horse with you within an inch of

life. I prefer something in the middle,
but never mind.

Now, where's little Nell, the squire's
daughter?

I'm here.

Welcome.

Well, it's only our voices. They can't
see us. I've been practising and I sound

just like a young, innocent country
girl.

An acting feat indeed.

I thought I'd have been better.

No, no, no. You're Busty Sal, the
barmaid, who is in love with Jim.

Who, we find out as our story unfolds,
has got ideas above his station.

Can we get on? It'll soon be my coffee
break. Yes, right.

Take one.

The ladies and gentlemen of the
Department of Grace Brothers in the High

present for the first time on CB radio,
The Adventures of Jim.

O -R -O -R -O -R.

A lusty country boy.

The year is 1642 in the village of
Boddington -in -the -Marsh.

Smuggling is rife, and behind it, the
red -faced Squire Danwell. Played by

Stephen Peacock.

Who is also the vicar. Also played by
Stephen Peterson.

Jim is the son of a blacksmith. He is
betrothed to Sally Park, the busty

at the Golden Pot.

Hello.

But secretly, Jim is having a grandest
scene of fare with Simple Nell, the

squire's daughter.

Just a minute, just a minute.

When are we going to start?

When I point to you. I shall have to
turn all this back again.

How much longer are we going to have to
wait?

Well, I have to set the plot.

Can't you abbreviate it? Very well.

Without further more ado, let's go back
to rural England, where the bad

-tempered squire is leading the hunt.

over two pages.

That's when he's out fishing and he
pulls out the big pipe.

Mr. Harmon, cut your coconuts.

What?

Mr.

Harmon, when I go like that, it means
cut your nuts, right?

When I start it up again, you fade them
away gradually.

into the distance.

Good.

Right.

Right, little Mel.

Loan it now.

Give it a hint.

Oh, no.

Someone might see.

Come into the barn with me.

through the moor.

anything else now. Hurry up or the fox
will escape.

Oh. Halli -ho, do you halloo? Halli -ho,
do you halloo? Halli -ho, do you

halloo? Meanwhile, back at the barn,
rolling in the hay... When is it going

be my turn? Cut!

You should read the directions. This is
where you're supposed to be kissing. Mr.

Harmer, stand by.

a tender, loving kiss.

That is not the noise we're looking for.

No, wouldn't it be better if we just
kissed properly, quite close up to the

Oh, here's a last resort.

What about the squeegee? Oh, that's a
good idea. We'll try that. Right.

Bye. Ready? It was a kiss that went on
forever.

He sounds as though he's dribbling.

When you're going to interrupt, will you
give a signal or something? I have to

keep running this back.

Well, I wouldn't let anybody kiss me
what kissed like that.

Just put both your lips close to the
microphone and do it your way. Ready?

Go.

Nell felt the pattern rising in her
veins.

At last, she was alone with the man she
loved.

When will I get a dog?

You're in the bar at the Golden Pot,
pulling the squire a pint.

He's popped in for a chat and lost the
fox. We're coming to you in a minute.

Right. Now, whilst over in the dog and
pot, the squire has stopped for a pint.

and he gazes admiringly as Busty Tal
bends over to pull a pint.

Tally -ho and view -hello.

That's not the line, you say. It's down
there somewhere. Oh, I'm sorry, I

forgot.

You're off your horse now, you see.

But, you know, it's a good job I'm quick
on this, otherwise there'd be a lot of

editing to do.

Right, now then.

Special effects, pulling the pint. Mr
Harmon, ready, go.

Well, ready with the beer.

Go.

Can I order a pint or a bucket?

That was special effects. Don't go on at
me.

Look, I've got to go to the little
girl's room.

Nobody's going anywhere until we've done
all this again. It's not good enough.

What do you mean, do it again?

I have to keep running this back.

Yeah, but that's how you record it. But
this is what we're going to broadcast.

Broadcast? We're connected up to the
outside now.

Up until now.

Anyway, it's my coffee break.

I've just had a call from Mary
Whitehouse. She sounds rather upset.

Mr Humphries, I blame you directly for
this. Well, I didn't know this was going

out on the air.

All the traffic stopped outside, the
roads blocked with lorries, and the

are all fighting to get into the
building.

What are we going to do?

Leave it to us.

Mr Rumbold, Mr Gray's for you.

I don't know where to begin, sir.

Oh, you can't wait for episode two.

Yes,

slightly risky, I agree, sir, but my
idea does seem to have put us on the

Yes, thank you, sir.

Mr Gray seems not entirely displeased,
but then he hasn't seen the sort of

customers you appear to have attracted.

Well, I'm not serving a load of rough
lorry drivers.

No, they'll tear the place apart.

Well, someone's got to handle them.
Where's Mrs Sloterman, Mr Humphreys?

All right, ladies, we're on the right.

And I don't want any of you to be
carried back to your smoky feet first.

And that goes for me, too.

Not quite the establishment I thought it
was, Roger. I think you're right,

Barnabas. Here, let's go to Aaron's.