Original subtitles

Every year is the same, Mr. Croman.

When we come to re -see the greens, this flock of darlings appears like magic

and scoffs a lot. We really do need a scarecrow. How soon will you be

it? Oh, not for a day or two.

We have club competitions tomorrow, and members will be up in arms if there were

scarecrows on the greens. So whenever it suits you after then. I'll make a start

on it this afternoon.

Well, you'll have to make one. Especially, I mean, wouldn't any old

the job?

Oh, I'm not sure.

There's this one, but I really don't think he'd be suitable for your purpose.

I think I'd better make you one.

Oh, don't you think best, Mr. Crumman.

Morning, father.

Morning to you.

The father has the patience of a saint.

He needs it, too, to go round with the captain as often as he does.

Captain? Which captain might that be?

Why, the captain.

There's only one captain round these parts.

Well, you must have run across him. No, I don't believe I've had that pleasure.

Then you're lucky.

Captain Fergus Forsythe I'm speaking of. You must have heard of him.

No one else in the club dares to go on the greens with him, let alone play 18

holes.

And no one can beat him either.

Get out and shift it, Rooney. It's in my parking place.

I will, Captain. I'll do that.

What the blazes is it, anyway?

It's an ancient vehicle, Your Honor, with one of the, uh, chrome and

sitting in it.

Ugly -looking fella.

Is he a member?

I don't think so, Your Honor. Then what in Hades is he doing there? He's not

doing anything at all, Your Honor. He's just sort of sitting there all

scrunchied up.

Shift it, Roly. Get it out of the way. I will, Captain. I will at once.

You mean the scarecrow? I meant the vehicle.

Oh, never mind.

Get my bags out of the back.

Ray, I'm ready, Captain.

I'll be with you in the jiffy, Father, as soon as I've got the golf shoes on.

A hundred pips of earth.

Watch it, Rooney. That's a massive coffee packet.

Oh.

Oh. Oh.

It's a nice, warming -up walk.

Cook yourself, then, Master Gammon. Walk home. I have no time to go looking for

you.

Guarding?

That's a guarding and a half, that is.

There's birds everywhere.

Go on up it.

It's me day off.

What do you think he's playing at?

He's trying to eat them varmint birds.

It's that chance he's got with a titchy ball like that.

Not bad, Father, for a rabbit. Yeah, never touched him, mister.

Watch this if you want to see how to really punch him down this fairway.

Hey!

Bad luck, Captain.

You got it all wrong, mister. Clear off, dear, here. Clear off at once or I'll

set the green keepers on you.

All right, don't fuss yourself.

I'll go in.

But you don't know nothing about bird scaring, mister.

Give me another ball, really.

I shall deem that lout an unfair hazard and take another shot from the team.

You have no objection, father?

If you want to try giving them old birds a fright, you want to try chucking

potatoes at them.

Now, listen to me.

This is a private club. And if you're not out of my sight and off this course

15 seconds flat, I shall take a number two iron and play the living daylights

out of you. Is that clear?

Oh, that's clear enough. Shut off then.

Skedaddle. All right, I'll go in.

But you don't know nothing about bird scaring.

Take this. You can try standing around and waving your arms up and down at him.

That's what we does.

That's it, mister.

You've got the hang of it already.

Come back here, you blackguard.

Come back.

Come back.

That one perhaps.

Oh, that's not sporty enough.

Oh, too long.

Too fat.

Oh, now that has a certain gold fin look about it.

Sporting scarecrows to be, is it?

Very well.

My friend, now, what sort of...

Features shall you have.

Come back here, you blackguard!

Come back here and we'll see you here!

Come on!

You stupid scarecrow! Now look what you've done!

Hello, Aunt Sally.

You clumsy, clod -hopping ape!

What are you doing here anyway, Aunt Sally?

I should have thought that was extremely obvious, even for an uneducated apology

for a horse's dinner such as you.

Making sandpies, you ignoramuses.

Well, I can see who's making sandpies, Aunt Sally, and jolly good ones, he

Oh, only why force you making them here?

Because I'm on my holidays, Barnpot.

Holidays?

What, here, Aunt Sally?

Of course.

And why not?

If I had to take my holidays, Wessel Gummidge, it's of no concern to a flea

-ridden Iraq.

Of course not, Aunt Sally.

I thought at first I might take a Mediterranean cruise.

Perhaps on a boat, no less.

I even considered the possibility of a skiing holiday in the Egyptian Helps.

And I thought, no.

No, this year I'll take my holidays at home. I'll just go down to my own

beach.

Your private beach?

Of course.

Like what all the rich folks have.

so they don't have to mix with common riffraff such as you.

Yeah, but I thought the beaches was at the seesaw.

Well? Well, this ain't the seesaw.

Is it?

Who says it ain't? You tell me who says it ain't and you see what it get.

I say it ain't.

Liar! I ain't no liar. Cos it's not and I can prove this ain't the seesaw

quicker nor fallen off a log.

Very well, prove it.

Where's the C?

Can't be no seesaw without no C.

That's the reason.

If there ain't no C, this ain't the seesaw.

You stupid, ignorant clod -upper. Of course there ain't no C.

And I shall tell you for why.

Why, Sally?

Because the tide's out!

Oh.

I never thought of that.

And I never did have much up top.

Comes of having a journey for an egg.

Aunt Sally.

What? Seeing as you're at the seesaw with your intended, what loves you most

the old wild world?

How about giving him a turn with your bucket in space?

Give me one good reason why I should give you a turn. Because if you don't,

knock your flipping wooden head off. That's why.

You'll do what, Wurzel Gummidge?

Nothing.

Ow!

If that hurt, you'd done it again.

It's for your own good, Wurzel.

Your honour, your honour. Thank you, Rooney.

You've sliced that one, Captain.

Straight for the bunker.

Are you all right, Aunt Sally?

Of course I'm all right. Why shouldn't I be all right?

Because that little titty boy just clung to you on the head.

Entirely my bit.

Blimey, Aunt Star, that's another one. Yeah, you know what? I reckon there's

someone nearabouts who knows that you're a genuine auntie Q, Aunt Sally, and is

chucking titchy balls at your aunt.

Clowns will always tell.

Yeah, yeah, I know that. But they shouldn't go around chucking balls willy

-nilly, you know. They might have clunk poor old Wurzel.

What the... You blazers!

It's my own ball!

That one's your one card.

I'll wait your end if you like it. That lunatic I had such trouble with on the

first. You unmitigated daunter, sir. I'm going to have words with you.

Here I'm, sir.

It's him again.

That cracked human who's always shouting and hollering and chasing after me.

Oh, Russell.

Ain't he handsome?

Handsome? He ain't handsome. How can he be handsome if he's off his jump?

He's a toff. Toff? He's a bomb pot. He's always going round trying to knock down

birds by hitting them with ditchy balls and a stick.

Idiot. He ain't trying to knock anything down.

He's a sporting gentleman.

What you were doing up, aren't thou?

Oh, Ruffer, the merest glimpse at a sporting gentleman.

Dear little heart, there's a bit of black fit to bust. Where's he going?

She's going to talk to him, of course. What about?

Just pass the time of day and such. Don't tell him I'm here.

As if I would.

Oh, good morning, ma 'am.

You haven't, I don't suppose, seen anything of an ugly, unkempt ruffian

around the green, have you?

Oh, sir, I was hoping and praying some kind gentleman would come along and save

me from his unwanted attention.

That's him hiding over there.

You blackguard, sir! See him off, Rooney.

Oh, thank you kindly, sir.

Think nothing of it, ma 'am.

But if you want my advice, let this be a lesson to you and give up hanging

around private golf club greens unescorted.

Oh, I will indeed, sir.

Well, call that one half, father, and proceed to the third.

Oh, excuse me.

I was wondering if I might accompany you around the course in case that

ignorant, smelly old scarecrow shows his horrible nose again.

I mean, that unwanted ruffian, what, looks like a ignorant, smelly scarecrow.

Oh, well, you can carry for me if you like, ma 'am.

Come on, Wizzle. We're off to the championship at the golf club. The

a big silver cup. Don't talk to me about no golfing cup.

My Aunt Sally was down there all yesterday.

of flittering and fluttering their pretty eyes at that there daft human

goes around whooping titchy balls at birds.

He means the captain.

He wins the championship every year.

Yeah, well, that means he does win every year. That means he ain't been up

against old Wurzel.

I could do it, yeah. I could win it and all.

Why don't you, then? Because I ain't got the right head to do it, that's why.

How many heads have you got?

I've got all manner of heads for all manner of occasions.

I reckon that I've got more heads than all you humans put together.

You must think he's as correct as he is.

Come on, Martin. We'll be late.

Hey, Wizzle.

I heard the crow man's making a sporting ski crow. Perhaps we could have an end

of that to beat the captain.

Oh, well, what, Captain?

19, wooly head.

Oh,

cow cocky head.

Yes, I made you laugh.

Winter, when old plumber Corherry got to gout and couldn't muster his dry stock.

What condition are you in?

Get out of that car, because your man's a mutt. I'll give you a boot up the

acre, so help me. Get in behind, you stinking mongrel.

Heel, heel. I said heel, you flea -winged little bit.

Me? I'd forgotten what colourful leg words you have. I'd better put you back

a cold storage till you mature a bit. Tell me.

He's counting his heads.

I'll have to be as quiet as a little mouse.

Keep quiet.

Must be possums.

Ah, rugby head.

Yes, that's right.

Housewife head. We know all about you.

Oh.

It's not one of my better efforts.

And... Oh, grand opera head.

Yes, haven't heard from you for some time. Let's see how well you're eating

those top notes.

Oh, here.

Just as I thought. Try rot.

Get out of here!

What is going on out there?

Possum. Down that hole.

What are you doing up chasing possums?

Why are you wearing them dead things round your neck? Keep your voice down

I'll tell you.

I'm a poacher.

Poacher? What's a poacher when he's at home?

You got it wrong, see.

When he's at home, he isn't poaching.

It's only when he's about his unlawful activities that he can be called a

poacher.

Here.

Don't I recognize this furry coat?

Yeah, that's a friend of mine.

It's a rabbit what lives down in Farbert's Tidmarsh's Field. What's it

hanging off your belt?

You might say I've borrowed it on permanent loan.

I think it's fair to say he won't be coming back for it.

That possum doesn't seem to want to come out.

Come on, furry fella.

Ah! The plodder bit me, so he did. Ah!

Yeah, what serves you right.

Serves you right for taking furry coats off ticky animals without asking

permission first.

That's the very essence of poaching.

Taking what's not yours without asking for it. That's your job, is it?

Well, if that's your job, there's a little something you can do for me.

There's a sporting egg that needs poaching from this little big house

Well, you don't ask him to crowman.

That wouldn't be poaching. That'd be stealing. No, it ain't stealing.

It's only for borrowing.

In any case, I don't think much of you poaching. You can't poach so much as a

sporting head. Do you mind what you're saying? You know what I reckon? I reckon

you's a cowardly, cowardly cussed head.

You's yeller.

All talking, no do.

All right, I'll get that head of yours. And when I get it, I'll be expecting an

apology. Nobody calls me yeller.

So it's an expert you want to see in action, is it?

Yes, Mr. Rooney, are you wanting something?

Mr. Corman!

Well, um... I've got a stomach cramp.

Something indigestion, most likely, from all those poor animals you've killed

and consumed.

I don't like poachers, Mr. Rooney, and I like them even less when I see them on

my property. Be off with you!

No, you don't understand me!

Is that the expert poaching? I reckon it's hard to hit the scarecrow way.

around here somewhere.

Right,

that's the old stock accounted for.

Now, 311.

Fruity head.

Hunting head.

Sporting head.

Quiet, Stanley.

318.

The hot water cupboard, if I'm not mistaken.

Shaking off the sniffles of the cold.

Go

on,

get on out. I'll go home.

That's the lot. Now, final check. There should be eight.

Oh, good gracious.

I'd better get cracking. I'll miss the start.

I sometimes wonder, Mr. Secretary, if the captain was set down amongst us to

test our faith.

I see you've lost your caddying job, really. Why pay me when so major it'll

it for nothing?

You mark my words. Our day will come. The good Lord will set down a new

among us.

Hey, hey, you all right?

Hey, you stay there, eh?

Oi!

Here, plenty of tugs in here, all right?

And titchy balls and sticks to belt them with.

Ladies and

gentlemen,

as you're all aware, the captain completed the course this afternoon.

Once more unopposed.

Nowhere the challenger having appeared to throw down the gauntlet, or should I

say golf club.

It therefore gives me great pleasure to declare Captain Fergus Forsyth champion

of Timberwell Golf Club for the seventh year running.

Now to present this grand trophy.

Aye!

No worthy challenger, eh?

I'll challenge him.

You wanted a sporting head, didn't you, Ursula?

Why did you choose the wrong one?

Wurzel. You've no one to blame but yourself.

But why didn't your magic work, your Iron Might, didn't it?

My magic did work, Wurzel. My magic always works. I'm the Crow Man.

This head was never intended for that scarecrow.

I haven't even begun work on his head.

This head is intended for a new scarecrow that I'm constructing to

turf of the Piwaka Waka Football Club.

Football, Wurzel, not golf.

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear, oh, dearie me.

I've made a right fool of myself, Mr. Cromant.

And in front of me, Aunt Sally and all.

A right proper fool.

No, Wurzel.

You made a fool of yourself because of Aunt Sally.

I don't know what you think of me, Mr. Cromant.

There's no need to worry on that account, Wurzel.

Aunt Sally, I'm sure, as always, will be thinking of only one thing.

What's that, Your Worship?

Herself, Wurzel.

Herself.

Bye.

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0