All language subtitles for Maid Marian s04e03 Raining Forks

English village life, eh? No wonder our
tourist industry's gone down the pan.

Bring out your bag!

Excuse me? Well, if all of you folk lie
round indoors, everyone else will catch

you, won't they?

Catch what, tobacco face?

Keep away, noble sirs. This house is
ridden with the plague.

So's this one, sir.

And that one, and that one. The whole
village is in its cursing grip.

Aye, it swept through works of like the
plague.

It is the plague, Gladys. I know.

It's swept through workshop like another
plague that isn't the one that's just

swept through workshop. One day, your
ride has rained and suddenly you've got

this terrible sore throat and your nose
is all bunged up and you have to have a

day off work and your waste paper bin
gets filled up with soggy tissues and

spill out all over the place. It's
horrible!

Snooker, it's called a cold.

No, it's the plague!

build a bonfire for tomorrow.

Oh, good.

You won't be needing your forks then,
will you? Good morning.

Is

that

the lot?

Yes, my lord. It's the recession, I'm
afraid.

People can't afford luxury items like
forks anymore.

What a miserable...

Lousy weather, stupid peasants, and I've
got this stinking cold.

You get me something to wipe my nose.

Certainly, my lord. How about a couple
of hundredweight of kitchen towel, or

maybe a vacuum cleaner up each nostril?

Looks like you need a break, Your
Majesty.

Shut up, Gary.

You're right, I do.

Somewhere nice, warm, sunny and exotic.

Nottingham, take me on holiday.

Your Majesty, we can't afford it. You
will take me on holiday, because if you

don't, I will crumple you up into a
little ball, stuff you up my nose and

you all the way to the Outer Hebrides.

And...

Let's catch a bus, eh?

Don't be stupid, Robin. Where are we
going to find a bus stop in the middle

Skegness Moor?

Yeah, but you know what these country
bus services are like.

One bus a week, and when it comes, it's
a fortnight late.

Hey, wow.

It'll take us all the way.

He'll give you a show. He's doing his
best. He's got half a dozen of his mates

helping him. Not to mention a batter
with extremely sharp claws.

Put some gloves on.

Hey, where's the bus gone?

Drove off.

Oh, bus drivers, eh? They're power mad.

We'll just have to wait for the next
one.

When's it due, man?

Um, 3rd of April, 1344.

That's 152 years' time.

Right, lads, shall we wait? or shall we
walk?

Yes, sir!

What are we going to do?

What are we going to do?

I don't understand, sire. We'll end up
having to take even more people on

holiday. Shut up and put these on.

Never fear, good people.

Dr. Nottingham's going to put you back
on your feet again.

I know your hair's a -raking and your
pants are full of ants and infestation.

Thank you very much.

Shake away your pains and take a listen
to this royal proclamation.

You can drop your grumpy faces.

Dust off your best suitcases. We're
going on vacation.

Yes, we're going on vacation.

Vacation. It's the poor always taxing
the poor and distributing the nation.

the day.

You got a dress in your holiday vest.

You're a summer sensation.

We are going far away.

Take my hand, hurry down to the sand.

Full of joy and delation.

Happy, happy holidays.

Your cold will soon be gone.

You'll surf all summer long.

You're going on vacation.

See, boys?

It's all falling into place rather
nicely.

Beach ball calls.

Why doesn't someone do us all a favour
and blow him up?

Right, you're all playing cricket with
me.

Where are the stumps? Over here, uncle.

This is fun, isn't it?

It's certainly clearing out my son, if
this is your worship. This is a lock.

Can I be the bail?

It's great to see your subjects looking
so happy, isn't it, my lord? Where am I

staying tonight?

Especially when you know that in 30
seconds they'll be as miserable as a

sharpener with a thick of dynamite
shoved up its hole.

It had better be somewhere decent.

Never fear, my lord. Your accommodation
will be first class.

Allow me to demonstrate.

Scum! Scum!

Over here, please.

Are you having a good time?

This comes cheap, do you? There's the
fresh air tax, the rock pool tax, the

dune, sand flea and sand in your
sandwich tax.

But we haven't got any money.

Oh, dear, what a pity.

I'll have to kill you then, won't I?

I suppose that's only fair.

Wait a minute.

Wait a life -restoring minute. Why don't
you get yourselves a holiday job?

Earn yourselves a few bob.

But where are we going to find one, sir?

There's only one job been advertised in
the whole of England in the last five

years, and that was to be the man in
charge of closing down the job centres.

Well, blow me down. Look at this.

Jobs available building the brand -new
Gegnet holiday camp and leisure complex

apply the Sheriff of Nottingham. Ha!

What a coincidence!

used to come here. Me and the rest of
the 14 Scarborough South brownie pack.

was fantastic.

Dropping jellyfish down each other's
knickers.

Burying brown owl in the sand.

She must be still under here somewhere.

It's always been a very special place
for me.

The emptiness.

The beauty.

The holiday camp?

The what?

Look, they just put one up over there.

shakes and tacky candy floss.

Come on, I'll race you to the sea. Last
one in's as, as weedy as Bill and Ben's

girlfriend.

Careful of the tower.

Anyone fancy a thick shake?

Oh, me, please.

I hate those really intelligent ones. I
never know what to say to them.

Hidey -hide, Gary.

Howdy -ho, Greg.

At least His Majesty's happy now he's
got his own chalet, 24 -hour bingo, and

tonight's a big event.

I'm just off to get some more wood for
the bonfire. Oh, it's going to be great.

I'll make a fortune.

Can we go on now? No, get back to work.

What do you think this is, a flipping
holiday camp?

Oh, I'd like a candy, Gloss.

Oh, wouldn't it be like eating your face
on a stick?

Halt!

If you want to come in, you'll have to
cough up first.

Right, I'll just stick my fingers down
his throat.

One silver piece each, please. We can't
afford that. This is all we've got for

the whole week.

You get a free big mag.

Oh, wow.

What are we waiting for? Come on.

Ah, missed.

Oh, missed.

Ah, I got him. I won a present.

I think this mag's a bit too big. Oh,
look over here. You throw a goldfish,

if you get it in a jar, you win a ping
-pong ball.

Hey, guys.

A bonfire.

Go away.

It spoke us alive.

Push off.

Blimey, a bush with a squeaky voice.

Your name's not Kate, is it? No.

I'm not the bush. I'm me. And you're not
having my bonfire, so there.

What's he on a bonfire for?

Tonight, of course. Eh?

Oh, come on. You know what's happening
tonight, didn't you? What?

Yeah, you must, man.

A hundred years ago.

today in the royal castle there was an
angry man crept

through the silent night and in his hand
was a

big brown paper parcel and in the parcel
were some sticks

of

they didn't know that underneath them
was a tunnel

and a little man

and it's every 27th of April.

You know the poem, Rabies. Remember,
remember the 27th of April. Yes, and we

light bonfires and throw our forks in
the air and we get all these little

of dynamite and our mummies and daddies
tell us not to hold them, but we do

anyway, and we all end up in casualty
with third -degree burns. It's ever so

much fun.

Are you going to come?

Holiday of a lifetime?

I don't think anyone with any sense
would rather have a fortnight's camping

holiday on the slopes of Mount Etna.

Hey, Marion, can we stay here? It's
brilliant.

And the chip. Look, we've won some
fabulous prizes.

Yeah, little Ron's got a troll.

It's not a troll. It's a life -size
model of my little Jack.

And I've got a brand -new pack of 51
playing cards.

Yeah, great prizes. How many goes did it
take to win them? Marion, stop.

Come back here.

Quick, there's someone coming.

revolting old bag of stoke droppings.
Now get back inside.

I can't. I've got to get the
Tershrafidis to top us all.

I've got to watch on my instep as big
and fairy as a three -month -old kitten.

Don't pussyfoot with me, you old hag.

Get back inside before I remove your
wart from the knee downwards.

You work for me now, and you stay
working for me till you're old and...

until you're old and dead.

Come on!

Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Help!

Did you hear that?

How absolutely unspeakably foul.

I know. Those warts can be contagious.

I'm going after her, boys.

Barrington, how much is the entrance
fee?

Come on, cough up.

We've spent it all.

Oh, great.

How on earth am I supposed to get in?

Excuse me, young man. Can I just measure
that? Chip, please.

Just as I thought.

Three millimetres too long.

They'll have to go, I'm afraid.

Who are you?

Here's my identification.

The Chief Inspector for the Ministry of
Food, Skegness Branch.

Well, you've turned up just at the right
moment, hasn't he, boy?

you works about as exciting as being
stuck in a lift with a modern railway

enthusiast. Please, sire, can we have a
bonfire too?

Certainly you can, snooker. Here, take
this twig, and the moment the fork

flying, light it and warm yourselves by
its friendly glow.

Thank you. No, thank you, sire. Thank
you from the bottom of my beard.

Some people say you're a selfish swine.

Yes.

Nothing. I was just telling you. Excuse
me, young man. Can I measure your

sausage, please?

Yeah, just as I thought.

Seven centimetres too short.

It'll have to go, I'm afraid.

And the bun.

Who exactly are you?

Here's my identification.

The Chief Inspector for the Ministry of
Food Skegness Branch. Go away!

Is this your holiday camp?

Yes. Then you'll be needing a licence.

Licence? I'm not some stupid dog.

Some people say you are, so I'll shut
up.

I'll have to be checking your food
preparation, your toiletries, make sure

your comestibles are being stored in a
totally disease -free environment.

All right, all right, bureaucrat saying.
There's more red tape here than in a

Chinese video shop.

You, come with me. I'll be needing a
look at your u -bends.

They're not very good, sir. I slipped at
this playing football for the over

-75s. Now, Snooker, don't be alarmed,
but I've got something to show you which

think you'll find rather interesting.

Look. Now, that is interesting, sir.
That must make things like snogging and

drinking minestrone so much easier.

No, it's me, Marion.

My name's not Marion.

Listen, and listen carefully. In a few
hours' time, it'll be high forks night.

And if you want to escape, this is what
you'll have to do.

Stupid ritual.

Look at all these forks going to waste.

I could have tortured half a dozen
dungeons full of prisoners with that

lot. Didn't you think that food
inspector was a bit fishy, sire? Not

particularly. Probably been up to his
armpits in halibut all day. No, it was

moustache. Droopy, you mean?

Sleepy, more like.

What?

Well, when he went out the front gate,
he took it off and tucked it up for the

night in a matchbox, bless its little
heart.

Did he?

Did he indeed?

Here's some little dynamite sticks,
sire.

Aren't they tingey and sweet?

For goodness sake, keep them away from
those torches.

One spark in the wrong place and you'll
be blasted so high and wide they'll be

picking up your bits and pieces in Rio
de Janeiro.

False moustache, eh?

Here's the royal party, sire. All ready
for the fork tossing. Yes, come on,

Nottingham. I have... We haven't had a
good toss since we chucked the Duchess

Norfolk's garden furniture into her
ornamental lake.

Certainly, my lord. Already, my lord.

Your Royal Highness, gentlemen, His
Majesty King John I will now open the

proceedings with the traditional tossing
of the garden fork.

I like this bit. Remember last year when
it went through the greenhouse?

Pitchy about the gardener, though.

One, two, three, and...

Probably just a little allergy. Just
something they ate.

Something they ate?

Excuse me, young man. Can I measure your
pimples, please?

Wait a highly suspicious minute. Let me
have a look at one of those pimples.

Certainly, sir.

Just as I thought.

Fake spots.

Play -Doh, if I'm not mistaken, with a
soft centre manufactured from...

..bird's custard.

So, who exactly are you?

Here's my identification.

Identification? Identification?

Do you think I'm a complete sickie? Some
folk do, sire. This identification

isn't worth the parchment it's
illuminated on. This is what I think of

identification.

Now... Let's see who you really are.

Marion! God! I don't think you should
have done that, sire. You might...

Set off the dynamite!

Great, isn't it?

Let's have a party.

Well, I would, but quite honestly, I'm
not feeling all that great.

Neither am I.

I'm sweating buckets.

And I'm sweating washing up bowls. And
it's rather nice warming pan here.

You don't think there really is such a
thing as a multicoloured pimple plague,

do you?

Hi,

did I hear the word party?