All language subtitles for Only When I Laugh s01e06 Tangled

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am. He's H -A -P
-P -Y.

The ingratitude of employers.

15 years on a car assembly line, 15
years of unremitting toil and sacked in

minute's notice.

The employers of this country have got a
lot to answer for.

And what did he do?

Hit the foreman.

What do you expect? You can't go around
hitting the foreman. Who said he went

around hitting the foreman? That's a
typical Tory bias, that is. He did it

in 15 years.

Well, that's no excuse.

Supposing they all did it once every 15
years, he'd be getting punched more

times on the clock.

Not that they punch the clock anymore.
That's the trouble nowadays.

Not enough discipline.

Well, in this case, they're extenuating
circumstances.

What extenuating circumstances?

The foreman didn't make his request in a
reasonable or diplomatic manner. He

used a four -letter word.

What was it? Work?

No, it wasn't.

I was referring to bad language.

Don't be ridiculous.

He must have heard bad language before.
Well, maybe he was the sensitive type.

Sensitive? Oh!

I see. I suppose because he's working
class, he hasn't got any right to be

sensitive. As a matter of fact, it says
here he was deeply hurt.

So was the foreman.

Well, it was the foreman's fault.

He should have let him sleep it off.

Do you mean to say he was drunk? Of
course he wasn't drunk.

He'd had a few, but he wasn't drunk.

He said he was drunk in the Daily Mail.
Oh, did he? Well, according to the Daily

Mail, he was overtired. Why don't you
get the Morning Star? You'll probably

he came from his sickbed.

He was not drunk.

If he wasn't drunk, why did he fall
asleep?

Because he was worn out from running up
and down ladders.

I thought you said he worked on the
assembly line. Oh, that's at night. In

day, he's a window cleaner.

What was he doing two jobs for? Because
my innocent friend, he had a wife and

family to support, and the economy of
this country is based on two pay

Only because they want their holidays in
Benidorm.

I see. I suppose the working classes
aren't entitled to holidays abroad.

I suppose if you had your way, all
they'd get is a fortnight's op picking.

Look, if they want holidays abroad and
colour television, they'll just have to

work harder.

Instead of going on strike all the time.
Listen, everyone is entitled to strike.

That's the only weapon you've got. The
withdrawal of labour is your fundamental

right, otherwise you get exploitation.

Well, look at Clegg there.

Look at the human misery on that face.

How do you think he got that?

Probably asked him to lift something.

That's bureaucratic exploitation.

Hey, Clegg, come here and show him your
pay package.

I don't want a sense of pay packet.
That's all right, mate. Come on, Clegg,

him your pay packet. I don't want to.
There's no need to be ashamed, brother.

We're the ones who should be ashamed. Go
on, go on. Show him your pay packet.

What about that, then? That's not his
total deductions you're looking at, you

know. That's his wage.

That's not much. Not much? It's a
pittance. He can't live on that wage.

could always get another job.

He doesn't want another job. It's
vocational, isn't it, Clegg?

That's right.

Well, I'm sorry.

It's no good being sorry.

Craig, have you got a television?

No. We had to watch the cup final
through the co -op window.

Hear that, eh?

And where are you going for your
holidays this year? I can't afford to

holiday.

We'll be out in the garden again.

taking turns on the sun lounger. There
you are, eh? Talk about being

underprivileged. A family with only one
sun lounger, and he got that with

cornflake packets.

Look, I know it seems unjust, but
there's only so much to go round.

Let me see if I can explain it to you.

Clegg.

Now,

the most national product is like a
large cake.

Now, we all get a slice, but some people
get larger slices than others.

Now, you want a larger slice.

That means that somebody else is going
to get left. Then he'll want a larger

slice. Why can't we all have an equal
slice?

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Norman.

But why can't we? Because he's doing the
cutting. Because we're not all equal,

that's why.

No, you're talking to Mr Big Slice. Not
only does he get the largest share, he

knows where all the cherries are.

Come on, Clegg, we cannot stand around
here chewing the fat all day. We are

for lunch.

Hurry, hurry, come on. No, no, no, wait
a minute, wait a minute. There's no need

to talk to him like that. He's not one
of your untouchables, you know.

No, no.

That's right.

What is this, Constance? What are you
talking about? I know you believe in the

caste system, but this man has got his
rights.

That's right.

I don't have to take orders from you.

I take orders from the cleaning
supervisor.

Right. All I'm saying is we're late for
lunch and we're wasting time. Now, come

on, Clegg.

Yeah, well, you just watch what you're
saying to me.

I know you're tight.

You've only been in the country five
minutes and you're driving your own

You can't stop doing it, can you? What?

Agitating, stirring things up.

You're a proper little Lenin. Just
because I remind people of their rights?

Times have changed, you know, Glover.
There's been a social revolution since

played with a gardener's boy.

I hope you're listening to all this,
Norman. You might learn something.

I think I'm getting through to you,
aren't I? You've got that worried frown

again. Is it the inequality of the class
system? Is it the unacceptable face of

capitalism? Is that what's distressing
you?

No. What is it, then, son?

Boiled fish and semolina.

What? We've got it again today.

Is that all you can think about? You've
got a chance to discuss all the major

political issues of the day and all you
can think about is boiled fish and

semolina? I don't like boiled fish and
semolina. Well, tell him you don't want

it. I'll do that. No, no, I'm the one
who has to do all the complaining round

here. If we've left the patients like
you, there'll never be any improvements.

They'd still be sore enough legs without
an anaesthetic.

Well, it's about time somebody
complained.

That boiled fish is diabolical. Well, he
won't complain. He hasn't got the

nerve. Why do you think they keep taking
all them X -rays?

They're still looking for his vertebrae.

I'm not afraid to complain.

All right, then. Go on. Go on.

Complain.

Oh, golly, what have we over here?

It is the excellent boiled fish, you
lucky fellow.

I wish I was stuck into that right now.

Can't I have a choice?

Of course. Of course you can have a
choice.

You can start at that end, or you can
start at this end.

Where do you think you are, in a five
-star hotel?

This is a hospital.

It's not run for the benefit of the
patients. I don't care. I don't like it,

I'm not eating it.

What's the matter, Gupta? You will not
eat its food, Mr. Thorpe.

Come along, Norman. Don't pout.

Oh, it smells delicious.

May I?

Just as I thought.

Delightful. As fine a piece of boiled
fish as you'll find anywhere. Well, you

can eat it, then.

Listen, we all have to eat this stuff,
you know. Why should you be an

You're lucky it's not the steak and
kidney pie. You need a pneumatic drill

that.

Now, get on with it. I can't eat it.

Well, do what we do.

Smother it in tomato sauce.

I shan't.

I want to make an official complaint.

If you think I'm going to complain to
Lucretia Borgia down there, you're

mistaken.

That woman's got the warm, kindly smile
of a prison wardress.

Instead, she does her own slaughtering.

Now, come on, get off. Oh, wait a
minute. You can't make him eat that.

Patients have rights, too, you know. Oh,
I see. I might have known you'd be

behind it. I'm just showing solidarity,
that's all. We are not going to eat this

rubbish. I'm afraid he's right, Mr
Thorpe. As you know, I'm not one to

But the cooking does lack a certain
variety.

Perhaps you could try something else.
What do you suggest?

Um, trout mania, coq au vin, beurk
bourguignon. A little wine does wonders

the jaded palate.

I'm not suggesting she cooks in wine.
She's barely mastered gravy.

Now, come along. Stop all this nonsense
and eat up. Come on, Norman.

No. Just a jade. I don't want it. Just
for me?

No.

I think I take your point, Norman.

Then it's either me or the radiator.

I think it's me.

It's probably a warning.

I can't go without food for very long.

I convert everything into energy.

I didn't know that.

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, I burn everything up.

Look at my palms. They're sweating.

I could go into a coma at any moment.

I know how you feel.

I don't know why I let Figgis talk me
into this.

You won't laugh, but I could even fancy
that boiled fish.

Who's laughing? I'd settle for a boiled
sweet.

I've got a bit of chocolate.

Where is it?

In the pocket of my dressing gown. It's
been there for days.

It's got fluff on it. Leave it on. It'll
be more filling.

What about Figgis? He can find his own
chocolate.

He's told everybody we're on hunger
strike.

Just because we're on hunger strike
doesn't mean we've got to starve.

Come on, they'll never know.

Oh, rich, velvet, delicious chocolate.

We've got them worried.

They're holding meetings all over the
place.

A real light and a torch which could
ignite the whole health service.

Is something the matter?

I've been talking to them in the general
ward. Ask them to pledge support.

What do they say?

They're going to take a vote on it.
When? After they've had their supper.

they've had their supper? What about us?
For just a minute. You've got something

in your mouth.

Yes, you have.

You're eating chocolate.

Both of you.

Well, they'll never know, Figgis. That's
not the point. We'll know. You can't...

cheat on a thing like this. It's a
question of principles.

I'm getting sick of your principles.

Oh, getting through to you is a glover,
eh?

Getting you where you hurt, eh? I'm not
surprised. You're too soft, too

pampered. I suppose you'll be having IT
by this time, eh?

Muffins served on a silver salver.

Deviled kidneys and sweetbread. Shut up,
Piggis. Well, stop moaning.

You can go without food for 40 days.

We're not going to go without food for
40 days, are we? No, of course not.

All we want is an undertaking that the
food is going to improve.

And they'll give in.

They're too frightened of the publicity.

Supposing they don't give in, then we'll
just have to tighten our pyjama cords,

won't we?

Norman, I was just passing the corner
shop. I wonder if this might tempt your

appetite. It's fresh cream with
raspberry jam, I believe.

I thought you might like it for your
teeth. He doesn't want that, Doctor.

I? He'll treat that with contempt.

We'll see.

He's trying to bribe us, is he? Well,
we'll show him.

We'll just leave it there.

Yes.

Did he say fresh cream?

Yes, laced with raspberry jam and very,
very light meringue.

hung some bacon rind out for the birds.

Wish I was a blue tit.

I wish we'd had breakfast.

By the time we start eating, I won't
have the strength to swallow.

I can't stop thinking about food.

I dreamt last night I was eating a giant
marshmallow.

When I woke up, I couldn't find the
pillow.

Where was it?

At the bottom of the bed with teeth
marks in it.

I dreamt about food last night.

I was in this little country pub that I
know.

I ordered grilled Adriatic prawns with
top salad, followed by port provencal

a bottle of Puy L 'Oche 66.

And then I was going to have the
chocolate gâteau delicately laced with

and finish off with coffee and Napoleon
brandy. What happened?

I found someone had cemented my teeth
together.

Probably Figgis.

Hello, what's the matter with you two?
We can't go on, Figgis. We've got to

But we must go on.

I can't. I'm hallucinating. I keep
smelling bacon and eggs all the time.

I'm sorry to let you down, Figgis, but
we've decided. I'm sorry, Figgis. I can

hardly believe it. Black legs. Where's
your backbone?

Where is it? I'm surprised you can't see
it.

We've got to eat, Figgis. All right, if
that's the way you feel. I just didn't

realise I was sharing a room with a
couple of scabs, that's all. We're not

scabs. It's a democratic decision. Two
against one.

I see. Well, never let it be said that
Roy Figgis didn't go along with the

wishes of the majority.

I can't say I'm not disappointed.

I'm bitterly disappointed.

But, if that's the way you want it, at
least I've done my best.

At least we've made a protest. All
right, we'll eat.

Oh, thank heavens for that. All right,
Gupta, we're ready to eat now. You can

bring on the food. Sorry, no food today.

Everybody's on strike.

It's inhuman.

There are sick people in here.

My God!

They've turned back the bread van.

What about the patients? We've got our
rights, too, you know.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

What a disaster.

How very unfortunate.

I don't know how to say this, but I'm
afraid it is goodbye, my friend.

What? All the non -serious cases must
leave this hospital.

Isn't that terrible?

What is it they say?

Partying is such sweet... sorrow.

Get dressed, please.

What are you talking about?

I'm a serious case.

You can't send me back to an empty flat.
They'll break down the door next

Christmas and find a skeleton in a
dressing gown.

He's right. You can't do this to a
sculptor. We're sick men.

Happily for me, that will not be my
decision.

That responsibility lies with somebody
else. Oh, God, for that, who is it?

Clegg.

Clegg? He's the leader of the strike.

He will decide.

Oh, no, he won't. He's not holding a
union meeting over my lap or up to me.

Clegg tried to stop me driving into the
hospital.

My God, we certainly nursed a viper in
our bosom there.

Apparently he's been going slow for some
time and no one noticed.

Say he takes his orders direct from
Moscow.

Probably draws half his pay in rubles.

Do you know he's the nurse to give me
the clenched fist salute?

At least I think it was a clenched fist
salute.

And I was to discharge the patients.

Where was tea about that? Fetch me the
case notes, Gupta.

I'm afraid I cannot do that. Why?

I am on strike.

Et tu, Brute?

Pardon?

It doesn't matter.

Don't you see, this is our chance to get
rid of them. No more trouble, no more

complaints. Gupta, you're talking to a
doctor.

Do you think I've used my skills on
these men to have them discharged by

illiterate buffoon?

Mr. Thorpe?

Oh, hello, Clegg. I didn't see you
there.

I want a word with you.

You crossed the picket line.

Of course I crossed the picket line. I
want to get in. We were engaged in

peaceful picketing.

All we wanted was to put our kindness to
you in a reasonable manner, instead of

which you drove straight over my foot.

It's not my fault you shouldn't have
such big feet.

Don't worry. I'm proud of this foot. I
consider myself another victim of the

class struggle. Class struggle.

It's just a time for paying off old
scores.

You've never forgiven me for stopping
you wheeling your bike through the

operating theatre. I'm not here to bandy
words with you, Mr Thorpe. I'm here to

tell you that my members will only deal
with serious cases, and these are not

serious cases. Of course we're serious
cases. Listen, comrade, I'm with you,

know that. We all are, we're right
behind you. But you can't send me home,

in my condition.

My wife can't stand illness. I'm sure
you can make an exception.

No exceptions, brother.

The end justifies the means. The
revolution will only succeed over the

the workers. Who said that? You did.

I wasn't talking about my body, you
raving idiot.

Who are you calling a raving idiot?

What about the dignity of labour? You
can't do this to me. We've done it.

Up the workers.

Look at him. He's all ready to storm the
Winter Palace.

He used to be such a nice little fellow.

And his wonderful way of potting
begonias.

Now look at him.

I blame you for this, Figgis.

I discharge you, only I don't want to
bow to the mob.

I think we should get rid of them.

Gupta, I don't think you'll ever be
really happy till this hospital's

empty.

But I'll defend their right to be here
till the last breath in my body and the

last drop of my blood. I don't care if I
have to empty bedpans and roll

bandages. These boys are my sacred
trust.

Doctor, do you think you could get us
some food?

Get you some food? food? Certainly not.

I'm a doctor, not a waiter.

I was thinking about your stomach.

I can't go on much longer. I keep
thinking I hear the food trolley. Why

you go and watch a television? It'll
take your mind off it. I've tried that.

Well, I get a food commercials.

It's either two Arabs wrestling over
some Turkish delight or someone shinning

a rope with a box of milk tray.

I can't stand it.

I wish somebody would shin up here with
a box of milk tray.

I've been thinking, I wonder what
carnations are like. Well, if I could

of some salt, I'd tell you.

Are you a lot sillier?

I'd get out if I were you. The heat's
going off next.

Oh, I've got to hand it to you, Clegg.
You think of everything.

Yes, you've certainly done a good job on
that leg, too. You must be in

considerable pain. I can hardly put it
to the ground. Well, you want to watch

it, you know. I think we'd better take a
look at it. No, I haven't got time. You

can't neglect a thing like that. Come
on. Come on now, let's get this shoe

Here we go.

Now, come on.

Come on.

My God!

What's the matter? I've never seen
anything like it. You'll never get that

on again.

I think it's turning blue. I think
you're right. I think it's only a

Only a sprain? Do me a favour. Are you
trying to frighten me? No, if you prefer

to think it's a sprain. If you want to
lead a strike with Berger's disease,

that's all right with me.

Berger's disease? Well, that's what it
looks like to me. What do you think?

Well, he's certainly showing all the
symptoms. What is Berger's disease?

Well, to put it simply, it's when all
the veins and arteries in the foot...

Close up? Oh, don't worry. The pain
won't last long. It'll go dead.

Unless the clock begins to move. The
clock? Then your leg will be all right.

you'll be dead. What am I going to do?

You've got to keep your weight off that
foot. Come on, Norman. Yeah, give me a

hand. Come on. Get him out of his bed.

There you go.

Hadn't you better get a doctor? A
doctor? Do me a favour. There's a strike

You've closed the hospital, remember?

Now, we'll do the best we can for you,
but you must excuse us if our methods

seem a little primitive. What are you
going to do? Bleed you. What?

A couple of leeches. No, they don't use
their leeches anymore. We'll have to cut

him and then drain his blood into this
bowl.

I'll bleed to death. Now you won't.
We'll stick some cobwebs on it. That'll

the bleeding. I'll get blood poisoning.

That's a point.

I know what we could do. Hang an onion
over the bed. They say that's very

effective against blood poisoning. Oh,
no, you're not here.

It's Clegg's leg, Doctor. I think
there's complications.

Would you like to take a look at it?

Oh, no, I don't think I could do that,
figures.

Don't want to be accused of strike
-breaking.

It's serious, Doctor. They say I've got
Berger's disease.

Berger's disease?

Well, it was just a wild guess, Doctor.

Oh, well, it is a possibility, I
suppose.

May I have a look?

Oh, dear.

Those radials do make a mess, don't
they? Well, what?

What?

What are you going to do about it?

Not much I can do about it. I'd like to
x -ray this, but the x -ray department's

clear that the strike can't click.

Well, I didn't say it was going to go on
forever, did I?

Now we've made our protest, shown our
political muscle, we are prepared to

return to the negotiating table and seek
a last new settlement.

You mean you're going to pack it in?
That's right.

No hard feelings, Doctor?

No, of course not.

Now... Let's see if we can manipulate
this foot.

Please, Mr. Thorpe, this is no way to
negotiate.

Now let's get around the table.

It's coming.

It's coming. Yes, and you can depend on
one thing. There'll be some improvements

from now on, eh? Now eat in here. You'll
see.

It's the poor that gives to the poor.

Oh, there'll be some lovely, delicious
little things coming through here now.

Watch the supper, Goofy.

You're in luck, gentlemen.

Boiled fish and semolina.

What a mouth -watering repast. Not
again.

After all we've been through, we're not
standing for this, are we? Shut up,

Figgis. You don't know what it is. I'm
starving.

Not like you, a palatable heir.

But it's rubbish.

Well, let's eat it first and then
complain.

I want a word with you lot.

I understand somebody's been complaining
about me cooking.

Turning up their nose over me boiled
fish. Fish.

Well, who is it?

Have you been making derogatory remarks
about me, Mullet?

Me? Good heavens, no.

I think it's a triumph.

I think that the way you hide the
natural taste of the fish under this

white sauce is, um... Well, only you
could have done it.

I didn't think it was you. You're too
much of a gentleman.

Was it you?

No. I like it. It's one of my
favourites. I can't get enough of it.

delicious. Well, I'll see who gets it
regular, then.

I can always find a little bit extra for
those who appreciate it, so there are

no complaints.

Yes.

I don't like boiled fish.

I'm not interested in what you like.

brought us out, you said we'd have to be
prepared to suffer pain and hardship.

But as soon as your leg starts to ache,
you bring us back in again, don't you?

Stan!

Right. So there are no complaints.

Why don't you ask Figgins? I'm sure he's
got something to say.

I don't have to ask him.

I know he likes my cooking.

The way he came down and scoffed that
Cornish pasty last night.

You did enjoy it, didn't you, Joe?

Black legs, Dad!

I know I am. I'm sure I am.

Only when I lie.