All language subtitles for Press Gang s01e06 Interface

Male. No, female since you asked.

Why are you always such a wise guy in
the morning? Wise gal, since you ask.

Ah, the lovely Giselle.

I keep telling her never to write me at
the office, but... Spike, shall I tell

you just exactly how jealous that makes
me?

Well, sure, you've got the time.

Okay, listen.

Well, they thought it'd be good if she'd
got to take a run -up.

Tiddler!

Spike.

Look at this, just look at it. Came in
the post.

Wow, a photocopied piece of a newspaper.

Look at the ringed advert.

Creative writing competition.

The Roxburgh Award.

And? Well, look at the price.

A computer and printer.

That's just what we need, Spike, a
computer.

Look at this place, it's crawling with
writers.

Real writers, talented writers,
dedicated writers.

These kids even speak in punctuation.

Remind me to get someone else for less
juicy fries.

And remind me to get someone else to
remind me.

We're on the home straight.

What? The competition. Sarah's on the
shortlist.

They've published a shortlist before the
closing date?

It's unofficial. It's inside
information.

Linda, I can almost taste this computer
in megabytes.

We haven't got it yet, Colin.

Maybe not. But this is the clincher.

The early years of Sarah Jackson.

You're sending them this?

I'm going for the sympathy angle.

Alcoholic parents.

No formal education.

Only recently learned English.

Colin, no.

OK, I'll tone it down a bit.

But if we lose because you're playing
fair, then you're going to feel really

guilty.

Tiddler. Tiddler!

Where are the letters?

Behind you.

Where?

Behind.

Hey,

let me see that.

Let me see.

Well?

Sarah, well done.

But no big deal or anything.

No handing over ceremony.

Yeah, next month sometime.

It won't be me that's had it.

The Roxburgh Award goes this year to
Colin Matthews for his moving story, The

Early Years of Sarah Jackson.

What? I sent it as a letter, but they
thought it was fiction. Colin, it was.

Well, anyway, well done, both of you.
Well done, everyone.

And I'll catch up with the new baby
later, all right?

Kenny's business.

Problems. Kurt says even if we put the
headline in quotes, we could... You

somehow that all just seemed too easy.

What do you mean?

Doesn't matter.

Come on, start.

Ready? Ready.

OK, here goes.

Here goes.

CHEERING Because it's strange, that's
why.

Roxburgh are an office supply firm. What
have they got to do with creative

writing? And if it's just for publicity,
where is the publicity?

I haven't seen any.

Kenny, there's something weird about
this.

What's this supposed to be?

Is someone having a joke?

I wish I could see your face.

Spike!

Sarah's off to Roxburgh's tomorrow after
school. She's doing an interview.

Are we leaving that thing on?

What's the point in having it if we
don't? Well, who's got a computer and

that's going to be sending us messages
tonight?

Your dad's got the equipment.

And you still haven't given me that
homework article, have you?

Great art doesn't happen overnight.

Now it can.

Come on, Kenny, it's 20 past. We should
have been out by ten.

Don't you ever get hiccups, please?

Nope.

Came in on the computer last night.

Remember that television review column
you wanted?

I think this could be it.

It's excellent, but short. We need about
the same again.

But the really weird thing is, it's
anonymous.

It'll be one of the news team. They'll
just have forgotten to put their name

that's all.

Are there a lot on the news team who
forget their names?

Look, just find out who it was and get
them to double the length.

I don't even recognise the style, do
you?

Don't make a mystery of it, Kenny.

Well, who on the news team's got a
computer and modem anyway?

Kenny!

Do you know what office supplies are
about?

Words.

Making words, recording words, storing
words, sending words.

Without words, we're nothing.

So, what better than a creative writing
competition?

Well, how about publicity?

I didn't see much.

In fact, I didn't see any except for
photocopied adverts sent to the office.

Do you know how much publicity we had,
Miss Jackson?

Enough. Now, if you don't mind.

No, not at all, Mr Homer. I think I've
got all I need.

Hope it wasn't too boring for you.

You come here straight from school?

Yeah. It's the trouble with school. It
always gets in the way of work.

Bye. Bye -bye.

Sorry, Mr Homer, I forgot my... bag.

You'd honestly have thought it was only
up there for my benefit.

Weird, isn't it?

Kind of, I suppose.

Speaking of weird, I've asked everyone
else.

Did you write this?

No.

Why? It came through on the computer.

Someone on the news team's gone
anonymous.

And I'm not happy about it.

Now, this is good.

It's snappy, it's witty. And if it can
be brought up to length, it's going in.

But not without a name.

And the name belongs to someone standing
around this table.

And in case anyone thinks I'm jumping to
conclusions, think about this.

Who knows we've got a computer with a
modem link, and knows how to write this

stuff, and knows I was looking for a
television column in the first place?

Only the people I'm looking at right
now.

Now, it's as simple as this.

I want the review doubled in length, and
I want the name of the writer.

Linda, I think you'd better get over
here.

Spike, this is a meeting.

It's a friend again.

What? Well, that's neat. That eliminates
everyone on the newspaper.

Who's doing this?

Who could?

They're more to the point. Do we use it?

We've got two hours to make up our
minds.

Kenny, it's too good not to use.

Who do we say wrote it?

The mystery writer?

Virtue of a necessity.

It was Colin's idea when we told him we
didn't know the name.

If you haven't got it, flaunt it.

So, you're now getting mysterious
messages on the computer you

in a competition whose publicity can
only be described as mysterious.

Yeah.

Mysterious, isn't it?

Tell me honestly, Linda.

Is it a gimmick, or do you really not
know who it is?

A gimmick?

To sell papers, you mean? If it is,
could be a good one.

What kind of person would make use of a
situation like this just to sell papers?

Who is the mystery writer? Are rumours
of a royal connection true?

Only you can decide with a competitively
priced copy of the Junior Mystery

Gazette. Can you see through the mask to
them? Did this make your skin crawl?

Come on, Linda, look what he's done for
publicity. We're really selling this

week. Yeah, how sold. Can you discover
the true identity of the mystery writer?

Get a copy now while it's still a
mystery. All right, money.

Money, money, money, money, money,
money.

It's me.

What? I'm the mystery, um, the writer. I
knew it was a long word. Yeah, still

come in. Thank you.

Far old, drunk kid. And I saw your
advert asking for any information about

mystery writer, so I thought I'd better
come forward.

So it's you, is it? Oh, it's not me. I'm
simply the medium through which he has

communicated from the other side.

Oh, the other side.

Oh, he's dead, is he? He has passed
over.

Anyone we know? Your mystery writer is
none other than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

What did I tell you?

Mozart.

I've got to get some fresh air.

Sure.

OK, then.

Mozart.

Hey, Linda.

I was just on my way in to see you. He's
here.

Who? The mystery writer.

Round you come.

This is Linda Day, the editor. Linda,
this is the man himself, the mystery

writer. Let me guess.

He wants to get paid and you're here to
handle the finances.

I told you she'd understand.

You bet I understand.

Do you understand, Fred?

My God, Linda is Fred.

Do you know something, mystery writer?

You're ruining my life.

I'm surrounded by people who only ever
talk about you.

Who you are, why you're doing this,
whether or not you're Mozart.

But I'll say one thing for you.

I can talk to you.

Oh, I know it's not much of a
relationship.

I mean, all you ever do is write
television reviews at me.

But I'll tell you, you're about the
sanest person around here at the moment.

Are you finished for the night, is it?

Another witty little masterpiece?

You're thinking about it, aren't you?

Aren't you?

Damn! It's the same pattern always.

The moment I get close to asking for a
name, goodbye.

But in a way, he or she invites the
question.

I just don't understand it. Who could be
doing this?

Someone who's trying very hard to hide
from you and is very frightened they

might succeed.

You mean whoever it is wants to be
found.

Are there ever any clues left for you?
Any hints?

No.

Funny.

It doesn't fit the psychology for there
not to be clues.

Anyway, Linda... Can't we talk a bit
more?

Linda... I know you're busy, but you're
the only person I can talk to.

Everyone at the office has gone mad on
this thing.

Well, almost everyone.

Oh, come on. It's the guy with the
beard.

How many times has this been on? You
still don't know that?

Oh, that's right. Send her down the
corridor on her own. She's bound to be

I should be in this film.

I know it backwards.

Oh, hi, Dad.

It's that film again.

Oh, the plate's over there.

Can't you look at that guy? He's looking
so shifty. Just take a look at him.

He should have read the script.

Oh, Dad, I need some clean underwear.

It's your turn to do the washing.
There's a pile of dirty stuff here.

I can't tell you how much this means to
me.

Hi. Hi.

Well, fancy meeting you here.

And I do.

I want to talk, Spike.

You want to talk, Spike? Okay.

Well, I was born in New York.

Two parents, one of each. You know how
it is. About the mystery writer.

Okay.

Let's talk about the mystery writer.

Right.

Right.

I got something here. I think it's going
to help you move over the conversation.

I knew this was a mistake.

Hey, where are you going?

A game of Trivial Pursuits.

You play Trivial Pursuits? Well, usually
on my own.

It's easier to cheat.

What's your best category?

Hot stuff on sports.

I'll blow you out of the water on art
and literature.

Try.

So why talk to me?

I like to know I'm the smartest person
in the conversation.

I'll bet you say that to all the guys.

Pink.

Do you know what's really strange about
the mystery writer?

Is that the question? Can you answer it?

I'll tell you what's strange.

If a guy wants to remain anonymous, why
did you have to wait until we got a

computer? I mean, what's wrong with an
unsigned letter?

I haven't thought of that.

Good answer. Throw again.

And I'll tell you what else is strange.

A competition that nobody's heard of but
us.

Sarah had a theory it had all been done
for our benefit.

Well, why not?

If they wanted to make sure we had a
computer, why not?

I don't have any good answers to that.

Must be my turn, then.

While you're on a winning streak...

Kurt said this guy wants to be found.

Yeah, sounds right to me.

He says there'll be little clues left
for us.

Have you looked?

At everything that's been sent to us.

Every review the mystery writer's done.

Nothing.

Linda, if that competition was a phony,
we've been sent more than just reviews.

It's obviously a real page from the
newspaper.

It's just been messed about with on the
photocopier. Yeah, it's not telling me

anything.

Despite the page number, look.

26. I'm shocked. I'm stunned.

Don't you see?

This is a photocopy of the right -hand
half of a double page.

You can see the centrefold at the side
there and the edge of the paper there.

So? All newspapers are made up with a
double sheet. The right -hand half of

one just happens to be 26.

But 26 is an even number.

The right -hand half of a double page is
always odd.

Look.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

So this has been deliberately changed.

To tell us what?

26. And a dress, maybe?

So what do you suggest? We go and knock
on the door of every 26 around here,

huh? The rest will be here somewhere.

Linda, look.

Coming soon to the Capitol Cinema.

Laurel Avenue.

Well, doesn't look like a mystery
writer's house.

Are you sure you don't want me to come?

This guy likes hiding.

Two could be a crowd.

Okay, if you're sure.

See you back at the cab. Good luck.

I saw you in the drive.

Come in.

In there.

Wait a minute.

You'll understand if I don't get up.

And then you'd use the modem and send it
straight back to the newsroom.

That's why you need to have a computer.

Are you totally... From the neck down on
history.

That must be awful.

You don't know what an itchy nose means.

That was a joke. I do joke, you know.

From a neck up, I'm a running, jumping,
crazy kid.

Just can't get the rest of me to agree.

Well, whatever else you are, Billy,
you're a fine writer.

And I'm the mystery writer.

I like that.

And you're sure you want to keep it like
that?

I like people wondering.

I like them not to know what kind of a
wreck I am. If Dad hadn't left those

stupid clues in, even you would never
have known.

Billy, is there nothing I can do?

Of course there is.

Close the door.

It is closed.

Behind you.

Competition ideas are neat.

I hope I had it with my boss first.

What's one computer to Roxbury's?

Your son's very brave, Mr Homer.

Hmm.

I wish he was braver.

I wish we could get him down to that
newsroom of yours.

Get him meeting people, living again.

You're not using enough of this. The
plates are still greasy.

I don't like a lot of suds.

But the plates are still greasy.

No, try them harder.

Just like I was told.

Doesn't understand the meaning of no
unless she's saying it.

Of course.

You must have inside contact on the
paper.

Who is it?

You'd be surprised.

I know all about you kids.

Colin, the moneymaker.

Fraz, the nutcase.

That hoovlum Spike.

Spike's all right.

In fact, he's rather sweet.

I can't tell you how much this means to
me.

A word before I go, Billy.

No more mystery writer.

If you want to stick with the paper,
from now on you show your face.

Are you listening to me, Billy?

You better be, because I don't like
writers on my team who hide.

And I don't like writers who want
special deals just for them, clear?

There's a meeting tomorrow night at 8 o
'clock. Be there, or just forget about

the Junior Gazette altogether.

Linda. What?

Even if he is just late, I think we
should get started.

Yeah, I know.

I've just got to get something.

You've known him a long time.

Do you think he'll come?

Well, I only really knew him before the
accident.

Now, I don't know.

I can't delay this meeting any longer,
Spike.

Then start it. If he doesn't come, he
doesn't come.

Okay, everyone.

The first item of business tonight.

Linda!

Who's in a minute?

Billy Homer.

Late.

Kenny, will you stop grinning at me?

Was I grinning?

Sorry, I must have thought of something
funny.

Kenny? Oops.

Grinning again. Must be very funny,
whatever I'm thinking of.

Look, I just happened to be walking
along Spike Street, OK?

Of course.

And I happened to notice his house.

Right. But I wasn't sure if it was his
house, so I went to check the number.

Yeah? I was at the door. I couldn't just
walk away.

Oh, of course not.

So I rang the doorbell and his dad
answered.

And naturally you had to go upstairs,
sit on Spike's bed and play Trivial

Pursuits for two hours.

Well, obviously.

There's nothing going on, Kenny.

Absolutely nothing.

You stop grinning at me.