All language subtitles for bob_servant_s02e01_the_van

You know, Frank, when they muttered
Jesus and threw him in the cave,

thought it was goodnight Vienna.

Including me.

Now, Jesus, by his own admission, was an
appalling man, but he was no quitter.

So he hit a wee street in the cave, then
rolled away the boulder and said,

Anybody fancy an Easter egg?

Well, I'm no quitter either.

It's time for our second coming.

Francis, let's roll away the boulder.

Around here, people don't like to talk
about the cheeseburger wars.

And it's understandable.

They've got out of hand.

A lot of good vans were lost along the
way.

But me and you, Frank, back on the van,
the punters will be beside themselves.

And our wee cash flow problem will seem
nothing more than a hilarious memory.

Not that wee, Bob.

And as for the skirt, good golly, Miss
Molly, it'll be like the last days of

Rome. You know, it's funny, you
should... Oh, yes, Frank, yes!

Together, we can do anything.

I'm just saying, it's funny you should
talk about the woman's fault.

Darling! All right, Bob.

Darling.

I have an important whisper I need you
to deliver.

Pun intended.

People of Brodie Ferry, Bob's Beautiful
Burgers is back in business. Come and

have some fun in a bath.

Aye, all right.

That kid's got the lot, Frank.

And best of all, he knows it.

We should make him head of youth
development.

Can I clarify my title, Bob?

Same as always.

Director of Saucers Apprentice.

Thanks, Bob.

Just, you know, I didn't want to
presume, you know, and be all Bernie

about it.

Use your money.

Right. Well, I just thought... I thought
there might have been a hint of

inflation since... 1989.

Unfortunately, Frank, your salary was
pegged at the end.

And our Japanese friends have done you
no favours whatsoever.

Here you are, Hen. The meat attack.

The burger they couldn't ban.

It's roughly big.

I'm just selling you the gun,
sweetheart. You don't have to use it.

What else you got? We do the meat attack
and the widowmaker.

Is the widowmaker smaller?

It is considerably larger.

Madam, could I interest you in a half
portion?

Oh, well, that... Absolutely not!

I'd rather cut myself in half.

Frank, you're apprentice director of
sauces.

As you well know, director of ideas is
one of my titles.

It's just, you know, I was talking to my
swimming instructor, Dorothy, about

something called calories.

I don't care if you were talking to Buck
Reynolds about long division.

We're not doing half portions.

It's just, we're going to have to start
earning soon, Bob.

We're no overloaded with punters here.

You want punters? I'll get you punters.
I'll get you mere punters that you've

ever seen.

The punters love the seaside, Frank.

They like to feel the waves on their
bodies. Aye, don't we all?

What kind of meat is it?

Madam, thank you for the question. We
use a collage of meat.

Oh, that sounds a little worrying.

Come on, Mum, please.

Oh, OK, OK.

Two widow -makers, please.

Madam. Please feel free to advertise our
delicious burgers to any of your fellow

punters. Oh, and a thought.

Ladies, us two handsome singletons are
also available to any of your divorce

pals who haven't given in entirely to
the gin.

Bob Serfant. I knew it.

Back in the queue, Hendo.

Here's me trying to ease the jag into
your favourite parking spot and your

decrepit burger vans in the way.

Oh, you're an awful piece of work,
Hendo.

Well, let's try for civility.

You're in my spot.

Fine. I hereby award you 5 % off any
burgers served between 7 and 7 .15

mornings. Not to be used in conjunction
with any other offer. Bring photo ID.

I hope you've got a license, lads. A
license to trade.

And a license to love. Hey, ladies.

Children, you've been widow -maker.

Sir,

consider yourself meat -attacked. And
please, come again.

Well done, son.

What a run that was, Bob.

It's happening, Frank, just like I said.

Panther respect off the chart, money in
the till, and bucket loads of scut at

the post.

Again, on the lady's subject... You see,
Frank, women love powerful men.

Look at Sir Trevor MacDonald.

Frank, Sir Trevor MacDonald, and mind
you, this is only a hunch, but I feel

a good one.

Sir Trevor MacDonald is, without doubt,
pound for pound...

The maddest shagger in Britain.

See what I mean?

Shouldn't be on the road.

Mr. Servant, I'm from the council.

From the council?

Or from heaven? The council.

Where's your license?

May I consult with my colleague?

Please, help yourself to the condiments.

Here we go, Frank. The old van's working
its magic.

Is it? Oh, come on, Frank.

Does she want the license?

Or does she want me?

The license.

Francis, right now, that woman's ogling
my backside and fantasizing about taking

me to a cabin in the woods, lying me
down naked in front of an open fire and

going absolutely berserk on the business
end of my body. My God.

Don't blame me, Frank.

Blame the van.

One of your mobs already been here for
the license.

Who? Jim. Nice guy. Decent smile.

Sir name? Never asked. He had me at the
smile.

There is a Jim.

I hope you're going to check that.

Of course.

You see, Frank, and this is not a phrase
I would ever use lightly, but that

woman is definitely permanent scut
material.

Bob, with all this girly chat, I've been
trying to tell you that,

well, the thing is that I,

Frank...

I've gone and got myself a girlfriend.

You've got myself a girlfriend?

What happened was that my swimming
instructor, Dorothy, and I had what I

suppose you would call a kind of running
joke about towels, you know, the kind

of funny things that have happened to us
with towels, and, well, you know, one

thing led to another.

Now my swimming instructor Dorothy has
become my girlfriend.

And that's the end result of the whole
mess.

Come with me.

You see, Frank, cheeseburger van men are
like members of a boy band.

The public need to think we're
romantically available. One whisper

girlfriends and we'll lose half our fan
base.

Forgive me, Bob, but you just suggested
that women for the council is permanent

skirt material. That's different.

Could I trouble you to explain why?

Frank, how long have you been working
for me? That'll be seven years.

Exactly. Your apprenticeship's nearly
finished.

You should concentrate and not start
palling about with some deranged woman.

No, Bob, she's not deranged.

Dorothy is both a patient swimming
instructor and a...

You know, a wonderful girlfriend...
Frank, you can't have a girlfriend. Not

before me. It's just not right.

It would confuse the punters.

It's not fair, Frank.

On the punters.

Look, let's see how things play out
between myself and the councilwoman. And

then maybe, you know, we could sit down
and have a wee chat about your

girlfriend's situation.

I can't say fairer than that, Frank.

You know, Bob...

These words feel like poison in my
mouth, but I would like to suggest that

this occasion, you could in fact say
fairer than that.

Frank!

Frank! They're not very well.

Neither am I.

Mr. Servant, you didn't show your
license to anyone called Jim, nice smile

otherwise. Oh, sorry, hen, sorry. It was
Rab. Rab something or other. Nice guy.

Long hair.

How long?

Bit to his knees. Oh, come on. What was
in that burger?

Mincemeat and dreams.

I think they're having hallucinations.

Frank.

Frank. Back up, Frank. Bob. What?

Bob, I'd like to introduce you to my
woman instructor and girlfriend,

So nice to finally meet you.

Don't be ridiculous.

Mr. Servant, I'm suspending your
shambolic operation with immediate

Quite right.

Help me, Frank. Help me. Help me. You're
by suspended.

Game over, Bob.

You're a cowboy.

Right. That's it.

That's it.

Here I am, spreading happiness and
trying to earn a few honest pounds.

And all you people do is turn Boo Boy on
me.

He's beyond saving.

But you, you're an attractive, powerful
woman.

You're better than this.

You're a grown man, moaning about your
sore tummy.

When I was your age, I would have given
both legs for a decent hallucination.

Now, I am gracious enough to accept that
it appears that Frank has forgotten to

renew the license.

No, Bob.

You're director of licenses.

I beg your pardon?

You're director of licenses, Bob.

Right.

You just want your pound of flesh?

Well, here we go.

Frank.

You're back.

Young man, your life will never be the
same again.

Good morning.

Morning.

I believe this kid is enslaved to
yourself.

Oh, he works here, eh?

I've recently been let down by my right
-hand man, and over the years I've

watched Darren grow from scared wee
laddie to confident young hunk.

with a sack full of dreams.

Right.

It is time to empty his sack.

I'm not quite following... I hereby
appoint Darren as my right -hand man.

You're not his faggot anymore.

Freezing. Oh, Darren.

Muscles like those should be seen.

Let the punters enjoy them.

Bob?

Darren? Frank?

Yoko?

Darren will be accompanying me to the
council hearing as my new apprentice.

Your apprentice?

Oh, don't give me the puppy eyes, Frank.

I sent you an olive branch.

That was just a normal branch.

It's a thought that counts.

Have you anything to say to me, Francis?

Good luck with the council meeting, Bob.

One and a half lemonades, please,
Stupor.

I mean, who does he think he is?

Swagging blood and hands like he's
George Beck.

She seems nice.

Oh, Darren, Darren, Darren, Darren,
Darren, Darren, Darren, Darren.

Well, life's awfully simple at your age,
isn't it?

It's all about heavy metal music and
masturbating at drive -thrus.

Life's about pals, Darren.

It's about sticking together.

There's no selling each other down the
river just because some scut teaches you

the front crawl.

We're ready for you. On you go, young
lad.

Pull your tongue in, mate.

Council records from 1989 don't show
you've ever been granted a licence to

trade.

They say, if you remember Brodie Ferry
in 1989, then you weren't there.

I've no option but to permanently
suspend you from trading.

Two things.

First,

what are you doing for your tea?

I know a restaurant in Moneyfeet that'd
have your tongue hanging out like a

lizard. What's the second thing?

Darren?

Hello, I'm Darren the paperboy.

As you can see, I have nice muscles.

which I got from eating the delicious
burgers sold by Bob, who is currently

single. Oh, Darren, that's not really
relevant.

Although Bob doesn't have a licence, you
should give him a break because of

everything he does for folk.

He gave Frank the world and had it
thrown back in his face, and he saved me

a life of despair.

My dad is a real -life maniac who drinks
13 bottles of gin a day.

then hits me on the head with a golf
club and says you're out of bounds.

An awful man.

But a decent joke.

Oh, dear, we'd better call social
services. No, this is bollocks. Bob

Ghost wrote it.

Good luck, Bob.

Darren? Hold on.

Hold on.

Your suspension is permanent.

I appear to have a vacancy.

May I inspect your muscles?

You know, I was just thinking about
Frank.

The day I awarded you the Director of
Sources Apprenticeship.

Second best day of my life.

Quite a ceremony.

Covered me in mustard.

Tradition. Got in my eyes and I smarted
terribly.

Frank, I am... I suppose the only way to
put it is nice and simple.

I need you back.

It's more than just a wee cash flow
problem, Frank.

The cheeseburger money?

All gone.

All of it?

Fast living, Frank.

Fast living.

Nights out.

Taxis.

The jumpers.

I like nice things.

Pretty things.

The extension.

You said the extension paid for itself.

Sadly, Francis, that's just a timid
phrase.

The van has to work, Frank.

Or it's the poor who's for me.

And I can't do it without your pal.

As insane as that sounds, I just can't.

Well, you know, Bob, that's very kind.

In response, I would like to invite you
to a special clear -the -air lunch

with myself and Dorothy.

And if the lunch is a success and
everybody gets along, then I'd be

return to work.

OK.

Dorothy.

Wonderful to see you again.

And you, Bob.

I've got a wee something for you.

Do you play golf?

More importantly, are you left -handed?

No.

So hard to bet for women.

It's a wee bit of entertainment.

Someone taught me that if a party
doesn't have entertainment, you might as

just chuck it and go to bed.

Well, whoever told you that?

Sounds like a legend.

He was.

I'm not dead, Frank.

Frank, why don't you give Bob a wee tour
and I'll fix us some drinks?

Bob?

Have you got a parrot?

No, no.

That's for me.

Dorothy is extremely adventurous in what
she calls the sexual arena.

Now, you're very much a man of the
world, Bob.

Oh, absolutely.

I've swung from a few ceilings in my
time.

Oh, I'm sure, but being a bit of a
prodigy to myself, I must have been a

taken aback by certain things.

We do something called roll.

I'm not a real policeman. You know that,
Bob. But I'm worried.

I have formed a certain life for the
part of PC Bad Apple.

We should probably go and have those
drinks.

Bob, if I could just ask you something.

As a more experienced person in the
bedroom department, when you've been

have you also ever been completely...

crotchless. Oh, Bobby, we must tell you
about the laugh we had yesterday.

That sounds hilarious, but don't feel
you have to.

Dorothy went to the lady's barber's in
which she got home and said it would

have been funny if the lady barber had
picked up all the other hair on the shop

floor and sellotaped it to Dorothy's
wonderful head.

And if Dorothy had come home with her
hair on sellotape to her head, all the

colours would have jumbled up.

I wouldn't have to call her.

The red Dorothy sellotape head.

It gets funnier every time you tell it.

Really? Oh, look at him. Eyes like
diamond.

Buttocks to die for.

And the best joke -telling brought a
fairy.

The what?

I've had the jackpot with this one.

Well, I'm glad you two find it funny,
but I'm afraid it's left Frank's

performance in the van deeply lacking.

Well, maybe if Frank was properly paid,
his performance would be better.

I'm sorry? If Frankie received a livable
wage, he'd be more on the ball.

Frankie would be more on the ball if he
weren't up there tilling his head with

duff. We engage in consensual, non
-taboo sexual playtime.

You shouldn't be doing that stuff to
Frankie. It's only we.

I enjoy it, Bob.

I enjoy it.

Hugely. You're not ready, Frank.

I am ready, Bob.

I am ready and I am willing.

Why don't you two tell me how you met?

School. Well, we lived together.

How did that work?

When I was ten years old, my father said
he was going out for a pint of milk.

That was it.

Oh, dear.

By the time he got back with the milk,
my mum had run off with the bin man.

Dad said that Broughty Ferry had too
many memories.

He emigrated to Fife.

I went to live with Frank and his
family.

Best day of my life.

From that night onward, I slept in
Frank's bed.

Well, I just slept on the floor, but it
was absolutely fine.

And when I started the burger van, there
was only one person I wanted for the

director of Sauce's apprenticeship.

Well, maybe Frank's finished his
apprenticeship.

Maybe he has.

Well, I suppose I just thought that the
skirt stuff would happen for me first.

I understand.

See, Dorothy, if I'm completely honest,

I've never swung from a ceiling.

Not in that way.

Oh, Bob.

I'm sure there's women all over Broughty
Ferry would like to put you in their

sixth cradle. That's very kind.

And undoubtedly true.

Bob, it appears the council may have
dropped a ball.

And I suspect the ball might bounce up
and strike them in the genitalia. Oh,

thank you.

What are you saying?

What I'm saying is, we're back.