All language subtitles for Timewasters.S02E03.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

(saxophone solo)

Mmm. Summer is hearts.

Yeah. Sun's out, buns out.

- (bicycle bell rings)
- Oi, oi! Lucky saddle!

- Gross.
- Summer of love, big bro.

Girl's gotta eat.

Sweethearts, are we perching
on doorsteps nowadays?

How charmingly down-at-heel.

Just catching a few rays
while we can.

What d'you know?
I didn't think you chaps could tan.

Nice.

- Excuse me.
- Hi, JJ.

- What do you think you're doing?
- What do you care?

He's my son, innit?

Oh, shit, yeah, I forgot to say.

So, when we were in the '20s,
I got Victoria pregnant,

and now I've got a son
who's five years older than me.

Yeah, probably should have
mentioned that. Soz.

He's definitely got your forehead.

I can't believe
that sexy caramel latte is your son.

Can everyone shut up
while I work out what to do?

While you work out what to do?
This is my decision.

I've made up my mind.
I'm keeping my baby.

He's a full-grown adult man.

My God, you're right.
I've got so much to catch up on.

I've gotta teach him to swim, to shave.

To get dope waves with a do-rag.

Well, I for one
am very happy for you, Jason.

Oh, shotgun godfather.

I'm just saying
if 32-year-old JJ finds out

that 27-year-old Jason is his father,

he's gonna find it a bit weird,

and then it's just a matter of time

before he figures out
that we're from the future

and that we came here
in a time machine.

No, I think you're being
a bit paranoid, Nick.

Oh, am I? Am I?

If it gets out,
people will talk to people,

who will talk to people,
who will talk to spy people.

I'm not gonna lie to you,

I don't think anyone really listens
to black people in the '50s.

Wake up
and smell the news-coffee, Horace.

It's the Cold War. Everyone's being
watched, even black people.

Stupid Russian spies,
ruining everything.

Right, yeah, so that,

but if JJ ever needs tucking up
in bed, you give me a shout, yeah?

OK, Lauren, I'm gonna say something
really important.

You can tell because
this is my important face.

- You see that?
- I see it.

Do not smash my son.
Do you understand?

- Well, what if I...
- I'll say it again, Lauren.

Do not smash my son.

Fine. I won't smash your son.

Oh.

Whaap'm, baby love.

Actually, I'm just saying goodbye
to Mummy before I go to work. Sorry.

- Oh.
- Ooh.

Obviously you want this, I want this,

but I appreciate it's the '50s

and you guys like
a softly-softly approach,

so I'm gonna give you 24 hours
to make it happen.

A fine offer.

Alas, my mother's currently writing
invitations for a debutantes' ball.

She wants to find me a wife.

Oh, this is going to be
the blast of all blasts.

I'm inviting
society's wealthiest ladies.

We'll have you married off
to a pimply young virgin in no time.

This party could give you
the life that I had,

yachting on the Med,

drinking Krug
out of a maharajah's turban,

making love on a zeppelin.

I could give you all those things.

Obviously not the yacht
or the turban,

and I don't really know
what a zeppelin is,

but the sex thing I am all over.

If I were courting, rest assured
you would be top of my dance card.

JJ. Ooh, wait up.
Almost missed you there, champ.

Fancy a kick about?

Uh, no, thank you.
I'm just off to work, so...

- What time do you finish?
- Five, but I...

I'll be there, promise.

A few sweeties.

(whispers) Don't tell your mum.

Lovely. Off you go.

And don't talk to strangers.

This is Janice from Huddersfield
calling Trevor from Skegness.

Come in, Trevor.

(Russian accent) Trevor is out.
This is Alan from Grimsby.

Alan, please tell Trevor
that I need more time.

I will have the dossier with him
by noon tomorrow.

No, you have had long enough.

If Trevor is not reading your dossier
by breakfast tomorrow,

we are bringing you in.

Breakfast?

You must understand,
I believe I am on the verge of discovering

secret time-travelling technology.

Hmm. Interesting.
When were you thinking?

- Brunch?
- What is brunch?

It is after breakfast, before lunch,

you know, 11, 11:30,
if you wanna be loose with it.

(Alan) OK, brunch is fine.

- Oh, good. Give me your stuff.
- What you doing? I just upgraded.

I am destroying everything that
proves we're from the future world.

- (Jason) Bro, what the fuck?
- Can I keep my diary?

- (Nick) No, of course not.
- Still think you're being paranoid.

You're being not paranoid
if they're watching you.

Do you know what? I'm actually ready
to forget the future.

I belong here with my family.

Feels weird, though,
like burning all our stuff

actually means
that we're not going back.

Oh, don't worry, mate.
Nick can't start a fire anyway.

Oh, yeah? Tell that
to my Duke of Edinburgh gold, bitch.

Gold.

Wait, now, one sec.

- Gold.
- Gold.

No, no, no. Wait. Bear with me.

No, no, come back.

Getting embarrassing now.
What are you crying for?

JJ. JJ, over here.

See? Promised I'd meet you after work.

Right, got lots planned for us,

and I told your mum
I'd have you home by seven, so...

(yelps)

- Would you like to go higher?
- No.

This height will suffice, thank you.

So you excited for your party?
Find yourself a lady for life?

You're what, 32?
Yeah, time to settle.

You've been smashing it
since you were what, 15?

14? 13?

- Raw.
- Hardly.

I went from boarding school
into the army,

and at Cambridge the girls
were more keen to study than neck.

Whoa. You mean you've never...?

Well, if we're talking about
what I think we're talking about,

then not really.

Whoa. That is bleak.

But it's not too late.
Sure, get yourself a wife at the party.

But you gotta get smashing
before that.

Till you've smashed your way through
double figures, you ain't lived.

- Smash it.
- OK, my go.

Whoo! Hee-hee!

(radio static)

(crashing)

Help! Help! Help!

My foot's stuck in the bucket!

No? Nothing?

My name's Horace, by the way.

Janice Higginthwaite.
I was born in Huddersfield.

I went on to study technical drawing
at Hartlepool Arts College.

Oh. Horace Cunningham.
I was born in Peckham.

I studied BTEC level 1 in childcare
and I'm allergic to yeast.

You're a very warm person.

Oh, sorry. My hands get really sweaty
when I'm nervous.

You're funny.

So, Victoria's having this party for JJ.

Obviously you know that
because you're doing the decorations,

which look delightful, by the way.

Anyway, I was thinking
of maybe going to said party,

and I was thinking
of maybe taking someone with me,

but then I thought,
"Don't be stupid, Horace."

"Who's gonna wanna go with you
anywhere? Dickhead."

But then I had this crazy idea
that maybe, well...

Yes?

- Well, would you...
- (Nick) Fire! Man has made fire!

- What is Nicholas doing?
- He's just burning all of our stuff.

I must go.

No, Janice...

(yells)

- I can help you?
- No, thanks.

- Really, it's no trouble.
- Seriously, back off, all right?

It took me five hours
to get this going.

Because the wood was damp.

You're a very alluring man.

Oh. Are you a groupie?
Is this because I'm in a band?

- Yes.
- Amazing!

So, how does this work? I mean,
do we just go straight to it or...?

- Yes.
- Ah, sweet.

I knew those trumpet lessons
would pay off eventually.

So what I meant to say was,

would you like to come
to the ball with me?

Oh.

Oh, all right, uh...

Is this nice?

That's really nice.

All right? Got your invite.

- Stiff card, gold embossed.
- Well, I like to do things properly.

Oh.

Nice place.

- What the fuck is that?
- Oh, that's Bertie.

He's my tortoise.
Oh, he's such a character.

Aren't you, Bertie?
My little torto-wortoise?

Yes, you are, my boy.

Right, well, I thought you were NFI.

Not fucking interested.

I... took some advice from a friend.

Please sit.

We have bœuf en croute,
potatoes gratin.

Cool. What's for pud?

- Spotted dick.
- Fuck, yeah.

Let's eat.

Oh, cracking spread.
What was that again, something feet?

- Chateau Lafite.
- My favourite.

Right, shall we away to the boudoir?

There's something different
about you, Lauren.

I can't quite put my finger on it.

Well, come through to the boudoir

and I'll help you
put your finger on it.

I'm talking dirty. Work with me.

Oh, gosh, I'm sorry.

I must admit,
I'm rather new to all this.

Well, don't worry. I'm not.

Why don't we just start with some
heavy petting and see what happens?

OK.

Well...

- Something the matter?
- No, just getting this odd feeling.

- Is it the spotted dick repeating?
- No, it's... it's guilt.

I promised someone
I wouldn't do this.

There's someone special in your life?

Yeah, me, which is why
it's so weird I give a shit.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

- What were you doing in there?
- Nothing. We didn't even dry hump.

Oh, thank God, 'cause the idea
of you and my baby boy. Ugh!

- What's that supposed to mean?
- You know, you're trash.

- What?
- I mean, you're nasty.

But you know that, right?
I mean, that's why we love you.

You're trash, but in a good way.

But not in a way I'd want you
near my beautiful baby boy.

Screw you, Jason.

Screw you and screw your son,
who I'm gonna screw to screw you.

- What?
- Yeah, that's right.

I'm gonna bang your boy.

I'm gonna bang his brains out.

Oh!

You will not.

You will not touch
the apple of my eye!

I'm gonna bang him.

- That's nice.
- Oh, wow. I'm very aroused.

(Nick) Very...

- Wow. This is amazing.
- Yeah.

Sorry. Oh, sorry. Just to check.

This is entirely consensual

and you're not looking
for any kind of commitment?

- Of course.
- Oh, great.

I'm gonna go wash my penis.

(speaks Russian)

Victoria, why does my club
look like a shit circus?

Isn't it scrumptious?

It's for JJ's debutante ball.

No. No.
This is a sacred church of jazz.

Oh, Nicky Noo-Nah,
you must understand,

I simply couldn't host
the cream of London society

in a house
where four black chaps live.

Many of my esteemed guests
are rather...

Oh, sorry, what is that word
you keep on saying?

- Racist.
- Exactly.

- Some of them are rather that.
- Great.

So I have to welcome
a bunch of bigots into my jazz club.

Drippingly rich bigots, darling.

That said, if anyone asks,

JJ is brown because I lay
with an Italian prince, understood?

Well, I just want you to know

that this goes against
all of my principles.

Uh-huh. Now, do you think I should
lay the amphetamines on every table?

Oh, darling, why are you washing
your penis in the sink?

I'm gonna go have sex
with the cleaning lady.

Marvellous. Nothing like a good root
with the help.

- Have fun.
- Thank you.

(whistles)

Hello? Cleaning woman?

Hello?

(sighs)

I washed my penis for nothing.

This is Janice calling Alan.
Come in, Alan.

This is Alan.

Great news.
The dossier is complete.

You have the evidence?

A diary. It's all the proof we need.

(front door opens)

Alan, what will happen
to the targets?

Well, the usual.

We'll bring them in,
interrogate them and anally probe them

at our underground research facility
in Nizhny Novgorod.

- (Janice) Hello.
- Oh, hello.

Just thought I'd pop out
for a sit-down.

I love a good sit-down, don't you?

What is that you're holding?

It's called a corsage.
I made it from wild flowers.

I was gonna give it to you
when I asked you to the ball,

but it doesn't matter now
'cause you're going with Nick, innit?

- So...
- Why would you think that?

I saw you two together.

- That was not what it looked like.
- It's all right, like.

Nick's a really nice guy, you know,
so I'm happy for you both.

I'll just throw this
in the bin, then.

- Good morning.
- It's about to be.

I thought I was off limits.

You're back on, in a big way.

(Victoria) JJ, darling?

Are you serious?

Look how many people are coming
to your debutante ball.

Are you all right, darling?
You look a little qwah-qwah.

Yep, fine.

Oh, golly. Were you playing
with your little soldier?

No. Mother.

Don't worry, darling.
It's perfectly natural.

Would you like to borrow some of
mummy's lingerie catalogues?

No, thank you.

Well, keep a little in reserve,
because, miracle upon miracles,

all the invites we've sent out
have come back with a yes.

The Smedgley-Smythes,
the Marquess of Cheam.

Only the Earl of Huntsmead declined

because Lady Regina
died of lockjaw in the Sudan.

Ah, excellent news.

I know, isn't it?

So, carry on.
Just keep it off the valance, darling.

Oh, to be young and virile.

Terribly sorry, Lauren,
but I'm not really in the mood any more.

Yeah, me neither.

- Found your tortoise.
- Bertie.

♪ My, my, my, my,
my, my, my, my, my

♪ My angel lover

♪ My angel lover

♪ I swear by all the stars

♪ That there could be no other

♪ I hold you in my arms

♪ And dreams come true today...

Right, let's get ready to party
with 50 teenage virgins.

No, no, no, no, no, precious.
No jiggery-pokery.

- I've only got eyes for you.
- Oh, my chocolate éclair.

Mummy, Princess Margaret is outside.

Margaret is not a virgin.
I know that as a fact.

She's not going to get
her dirty paws on you. Tell her no.

Ooh, can I touch your skin?

Can I smash your teeth in?

(glass smashes)

- Where's that cleaning woman?
- That cleaning woman has a name.

Yeah, what is it?

I said she has a name.
I didn't say I know it.

It's Janice.

Janice Higginthwaite.

No, Margaret, you dirty cat!

You're soiled goods and you know it!

- Out!
- (screams)

(thud)

(Janice) I was wrong, Alan.
The targets are of no interest.

I believed that their peculiar ways

were because
they were from the future,

but, on reflection,
it is because they are immigrants

and merely acting
in the manner of their homeland.

Weeks in the field
and you say this now,

that you have wasted your time?

I do not feel as though
I have wasted my time.

What? What do you mean?

Hello? Hello?

Are you there?

Janice? Hello?

♪ Do what lovers do, yeah

♪ Do what lovers do

♪ Right from the start...

Honestly, I've never seen such a
boring bunch of baa-baas in my life.

Oh, my God, look at that one.

Darling, this is
Lady Morag of Falkirk,

heiress to the Caruthers estate.

Lady Morag, your gift.

And apparently Lady Morag
is going to sing a metrical psalm.

Ooh!

Keep an open mind, darling.
She's incredibly rich.

♪ Whom have I in the heavens high

♪ But thee, O Lord...

You see, that's the kind of girl
my little boy should be getting with.

- She dresses like a shit nan.
- ♪ Whom I...

Well, maybe not her,
but, you know, like, one of them.

- They're sophisticated, educated...
- Racist.

Do you know Victoria's
telling everyone JJ's dusky

because he's half Italian?

Yeah, well, baby needs new shoes.

You're quiet, Horace. You all right?

I suppose.

Cool. Fancy livening this party up?

I've had more fun
getting my pum pum waxed.

I could do a number.

I suppose this soirée
does need to tun up a bit.

Oh, can we not?

We're supposed to be
playing parlour games after this.

All right, I'll just blow up
some balloons.

Dick.

Good evening, everyone.
I have a message for JJ from Lauren.

(slow jazz)

♪ Let me tell you 'bout this girl
Maybe I shouldn't

♪ I met her in Philly
and her name was Brown Sugar

♪ See, we be making love constantly

♪ That's why my eyes
are the shade blood burgundy

♪ The way that we kiss
is unlike any other way

♪ That I be kissin' when I'm kissin'
What I'm missin', won't you listen?

♪ Brown Sugar babe

♪ I gets high off your love
Don't know how to behave

♪ Ah

♪ I want some of your Brown Sugar

♪ Ah...

- Can I cut in?
- Back off, haggis tits.

♪ Ah

♪ I want some of your Brown Sugar

♪ Ah

♪ I want some of your Brown Sugar

♪ Ah...

Get in.

Obviously I'd prefer JJ
to marry someone filthy rich.

As opposed to just filthy.

(Nick) Typical.

We spend a night
in a room full of desperate virgins

and we still end up alone.

Did you not find anyone
you like, Horace?

- No, I did, actually.
- Yeah? What happened to her?

She liked someone else.

Oh, well. He was probably
a dickhead anyway.

Dickhead.

- Fancy a dance?
- Ah, I'd be delighted.

♪ Won't you give it a thought?

♪ The attention you never sought...

So, here we are at last.

Here we are at last.

Good gracious. You promise
you'll be gentle with me, don't you?

Oh.

My sweet little babyccino.

Nothing about this
is gonna be gentle.