Original subtitles

But Sunday morning, it's only for the blessed.

And the sacred moments of silliness are where I find

my heaven.

Major.

Martin, you're so witty. We are always laughing together.

Thanks.

You are.

I still can't believe you chose me out of all the girls in the bank.

You know, they're all wanting you.

Always they are saying how handsome you are.

Really? Yes, and how clever you are, and kind, and considerate.

Very nice of you to say so.

But most of all, you know, they are talking about how your penis is of huge

proportions.

Really?

It's the biggest they have ever seen or even heard about.

Renata, I can't believe that's true.

There is something I must tell you.

Yes? I love you, and I want to do the business with you right now.

What, the full Monty?

Yes.

I can't wait for you any longer.

No.

No, I will not go out with Tom Cruise.

I don't care if he's desperate. Just send him a signed photograph and get rid

him. I don't need a man to complete my life.

Oh. All right, go on then. I want a first -class flight.

I want my own executive bathroom.

And I want a bacon sandwich any time I fancy one.

Bacon sandwich.

Wow. And somebody else has to do the typing.

Wow.

You'd never think she was born in the gutter, would you?

Just shut up about that, all right?

You know, she used to wet the bed till she was 13.

No. Just shut up, all right?

And if you tell Tom Cruise that, I'll kill you.

Hello?

Hello,

Tom.

It was so brilliant in that last film you did, Mr Malone.

That one with Tom Cruise.

Really fantastic.

Which one was that?

Oh, you know, the one where he played Tom Cruise's brother.

And Tom Cruise got really jealous because Mr Malone's character was so

better looking than him.

Oh, I know. And Mr Malone got loads and loads of girlfriends.

And at the end was really rich.

And Tom Cruise had to work cleaning out toilets.

You look marvellous, darling. Come on, let's do it.

Does my novel look big enough?

Oh, huge, darling. You look absolutely fantastic.

Monday.

Well, actually, man... Don't tell me. Just finish and come out and let me in.

Thank you so much.

Matt, you are such a wanker.

I think it's the law, Amanda.

Your turn now.

Perfect.

Hello, who's on line one?

Hello. Hello, who are you, sweetie? Morning, Mark.

Morning, Matt. Going kirping? No. Oh.

Phil, going to that poxy bank?

Have to, Matt. It's called work.

Don't get witty with me, mate, or I'll break your arms.

I was watching that.

Can't stand that ugly ginger toss, though. He's right up his own arse.

It wasn't really, mate. He was standing quite normally.

Tea.

Yeah, right. In a minute, Matt.

Tea, Martin. Now, at once. It's urgent.

I said in a minute.

Yeah, all right.

Dull. Foreign.

Fat.

Gets off.

Cup of tea, man?

Oh, yeah, all right. Cup of tea for man, Mark.

You're looking really smart today, Mandy.

I've got to. I'm pimping at this new management consultant and all the

secretaries have got to look like Miss World.

Really?

So what were the other girlies like in your office, then?

Nicky and Belinda.

They're super and fabulous, actually. They spend all day talking about how fat

they are, although they only weigh about half an ounce each, and they say things

like, you bitch, your hair's nicer than mine.

Do they shag, do you think?

I should think so, Master, when the circumstances are propitious.

For what?

Oh, look it up.

How about asking them round here for a drink or something?

What for?

Well, so I can look them over.

Well, why don't you come to the Feather?

It's just on the corner by the office. We sometimes go there for a quick drink

after work. Bollocks to that.

What do you want me to say, then?

Look, girlies, how about coming round to my flat because my landlord thinks he

might want to pork you?

No, just ask him over for a drink.

Why don't you go out any more, Matthew?

Go to work, Mandy.

You used to go out and shag, girl. I shag, man. Don't you worry.

When do you? You never leave this flat.

Look, the point is, man, if I want it, I can get it, all right? No problemo.

How?

Rent. That is not what we're talking about. Rent, Mandy.

God, you're petty.

I'm late now.

You look nice, Mand.

She could suck me through a hosepipe wearing that dress any time.

Oh, God.

How did I end up living in this dump with two 12 -year -old schoolboys? It's

like being stuck in a lift with Beavis and Butthead.

Mandy's a really hot babe, isn't she?

A bit geriatric.

I suppose I might give her one if she begged and pleaded.

Yeah.

Martin. What? In the hand.

Oh, sorry, mate.

Or even if she just asked nicely.

Shouldn't you be at work, Martin?

Blubber man.

Tough.

Oh, dear.

Winona Ryder's moved to passing.

Excuse me?

My ball's fallen into your garden. I can't come and get it because, um...

Because, uh, I'm doing some undercover surveillance work.

And I didn't want to draw any attention to myself.

But, look, why don't you pop up for a shag? I mean a coffee.

I meant a coffee. Shit!

I don't think it's nice laughing.

You know, you don't like people laughing.

It's a crazy idea you're laughing at him.

Now, if you apologize like I know you're going to, I might convince him that you

really didn't mean it.

Trust on board.

I'm home.

About time.

Game on, Mark.

Could you run the rules by me just one more time?

Marty, the bloody pot plants know the rules by now.

The couch is the 30 -yard line, the table's the 20 -yard line, the lamp's

-yard line. When I say go, go. Go!

Nice try, Mark.

Nice try.

It's my turn now.

Bit control.

Go!

Touchdown!

Malone slices through the opposition like a hot knife through butter.

His strength and grace combine to make that dazzling flair unique to Matt

Malone.

Cheers, Mark. Good guy.

You're back early.

What's going on there? Just man stuff, Mandy.

Oh, is that how you make love, then?

It's sad, isn't it, Martin? A girl's got a mind like a sewer.

We're bonding, Mandy.

We're reaching out to the elemental man within ourselves. We're peeling away the

layers of bullshit and asserting the brute strength that is every man's

birthright. Oh, I see. Just beating Martin up again. Matthew, excuse me.

Would you get your arse off my face, please?

He never stops moaning, does he?

0 to 60, 6 .3.

And a genuine 172 miles per hour is achievable where conditions permit. Now,

that is the dog's bollocks.

If I had 68 grand to spare, that is what I'd have.

You'd have to learn to drive, of course.

Can I have the rent, please, Mandy?

I'll pay you next week, all right?

You're a bit behind, Mand.

Am I?

How much do I owe you, then?

2 ,000 quid.

I don't.

Six months, Mandy. Pay up or I'm afraid it's back to the gutter.

Look, I'm sorry I'm a bit behind with my rent. I mean, you know I'm still paying

off my student loan and my overdraft and all my credit cards are up to the

limit. I need the rent, Mandy. I mean, I keep getting jobs that pay peanuts for

shit work. It's not my problem.

And all the men I meet are so grim and all my friends are getting married.

You're not going to cry, are you?

No.

Sorry, I don't know what came over me.

Oh. God, where did I go wrong with my life? I mean, how did I end up here?

Well, firstly, man, as you say, you only seem to get jobs that are paid peanuts

for shit work.

Oh, thank you, Martin.

And then you've got this tendency to blow all your credit cards on clothes

you're upset, haven't you? Yes, all right, Martin.

You haven't really got any money at all, in fact.

I said, thank you, Martin.

And that means you haven't really got much choice where to live, have you,

No, I don't.

Well, I'm really glad you're here, keeping an eye on Matt and me.

Thank you.

Thank you so very much, Martin.

I mean, you've really helped me get perspective on that. I think if it

raining, I may just go and throw myself off Battersea Bridge, if that's all

right with you two boys.

I want that rent first, Mandy.

I told you, I can't afford it at the moment.

I told you, it's not my problem.

No.

No, your problem is that you're too frightened to leave this flat.

And the high point of your bad little life is sneaking into my room to play

my underwear while I'm at work. That's your problem.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move out.

Fine. I'd be delighted to move out. Good. Go on, then. I will.

Right. Good.

But you can't afford to leave, though, can you, Mandy?

Mandy, look.

There is one way I can help you out.

Instead of actually giving me the rent in cash...

I wouldn't mind if you just gave me a shag.

Or two.

All right, just one.

I can't say fair in that, can I? I bet even Cindy Crawford wouldn't get that

much if she went on the game. Not that you'd be on the... Anyway, what do you

reckon?

No, thank you, Matthew.

I'd rather shag Michael Winner.

I don't know why you're so fussy all of a sudden.

I mean, you've shagged every other bloke you've ever met.

But, Matthew...

You're my best friend's little brother's best friend.

You're taboo.

And more to the point, you're disgusting.

And I wouldn't do it with you if you were the last man on earth, all right?

So that's a no, then, is it?

Cheerio, then. Chaps, don't wait up. I may not be home tonight.

And I want you out by the weekend.

Skunk pussy.

Matt? What?

What is a skunk pussy?

Martin?

Taxi driver, man. Robert De Niro, you know. New York, the Bowery, garbage.

Skunk pussies.

Wake up, you sad bastard.

Yeah, but what is a skunk pussy?

Christ, you're stupid.

Sometimes I think you should get out a bit, Matt.

Find out what's going on in the real world.

Don't you worry about me, mate. I know what's going on in the real world. I've

got my finger on the pulse, all right?

I'm rooted in reality, me, right up to the bollock.

You'd better believe it, man.

Oh, s***. Shit, Mark, now look what she's gone and done. We've missed half

Sunset Beach.

Only the first five minutes, Matt. Only the first five minutes. Listen, you

wanker. Now we don't know whether Oregon decided to go to the prom with Brett or

with Jay.

Sorry, Matt. We'll find out, though, won't we? I mean, when we get to the

scene, we'll see who she's with and then we'll... Shut up.

I'm trying to watch this.

Look at that.

He's only driving a Ferrari Testarossa.

15 -year -old sodding schoolgirl driving a Ferrari Testarossa.

Didn't even have an escort when I was 15.

You haven't got one now.

Couldn't even drive when I was 15.

We can't drive now.

Want a cuppa?

No, I've just met somebody at the party. I'm going to go and have dinner with

him. I just nipped back to get changed.

Where are you going?

The Savoy.

Blimey. He's staying there.

What, is he a film star or something?

Well, he said he is, but I've never heard of him. His name was, um, Harry...

Harrison Ford.

And he's only world -leading famous.

Right too, Matt, really. Just a bit of a stark, staring, mad bastard, but

nobody's perfect, are they?

Right, I've got to get changed quickly because he's waiting outside in the cab.

Oh, God, oh, God, what shall I wear?

Make the tea, then.

No, you make it.

What did you say?

Say, I am the king.

I am the king.

No, no.

Say, you are the king. That's what I said, I am the king.

No.

Say, say, I promise to make Lord Matthew... I promise to make Lord

Oh, are you two boys bonding again?

No, just beating Martin up.

That's a very fancy outfit for someone who's going to be living in Cardboard

City by the weekend.

Actually, I probably won't need this where I'm going. Just a few bikinis.

What are you on about?

Well, that guy waiting down there in the taxi only happens to be the chairman of

Intercontinental Resorts Incorporated in Bermuda.

He's only a multi -millionaire, Matthew.

Yeah, he looks rich.

Martin, how can you tell from looking at the top of a sodding taxi?

So he's a multi -millionaire, is he? Yeah, he is. And he wants me to be his

personal assistant in Bermuda. I'm escaping to Bermuda.

Hey, Mandy.

What? The taxi's gone.

What? Only joking.

Such a moron.

Bye, man. Have a lovely time.

Game on for her, eh, Matt?

Let's see.

You can't cheat fate, mate.

Thanks a lot.

And next Wednesday, our season of Steve McQueen films continues with the classic

Second World War film, The Great Escape.

But for now, we've come to the end of the evening's viewing.

So, goodnight.

When I was little, Steve McQueen was my hero.

I used to pretend I was him.

I especially liked him in The Great Escape.

That was my favourite film.

I don't think I ever saw that.

You sad butt. You must have seen it.

Everyone's seen it.

What's it about?

Well, Steve's the cooler king, right? And he sits there, throwing his ball

against the wall for ages.

Sounds good.

It's not just about that.

There's this brilliant bit at the end, on a motorbike, where everybody's

him, and he's jumping over fences on his bike, trying to escape.

I mean, Steve did all his own stunts.

Now, he would have been a cool flatmate to have.

Except he's dead.

Oh, yeah, I have seen it.

Yeah, he doesn't escape, though, does he, at the end? No, no, no, poor old...

Shit, what's his name?

In the film, I can't remember his name. I don't know.

Chris?

Chris.

Chris.

Chris is a sort of name a turd might have, if turds had names.

Yeah.

Silly me.

Chris.

Steve McQueen is Chris.

The Cooler King in The Great Escape.

All right, all right.

Right up there with Robert De Niro as Kim in Raging Bull.

Marlon Brando as Toby in The Godfather.

Nah, everyone knows he was called Don.

Don Corleone, remember?

Don't really, because Donald's not a traditionally Italian name, is he?

Just kidding, Matt, just kidding.

You haven't got much of a tan?

No.

Did you have a nice time, then?

No.

Mandy, why? What happened?

I don't know.

Mandy, you don't happen to remember the name of the character in The Great

Escape? Help!

Mine is.

Hiltz.

How did she do that?

How did she do that?

Magic.

Hello, Martin.

Mandy, are you all right?

I've just been sick into Matthew's trilby.

God, he'll kill you.

I'm not scared of that bastard.

I am.

What are you doing up? It's late, isn't it?

Oh, I don't know.

I was just lying in bed wondering why women loathe and despise me and suddenly

was wide awake.

Oh, God.

Are you all right?

Do you want to tell me what happened?

Well, he claimed he was the owner of a luxury famous hotel in Bermuda and that

he needed someone to help run it.

Actually, he seemed very sketchy on the day -to -day details of luxury hotel

life. He certainly had a lot of money, though.

I mean, at first he ordered a bottle of champagne that cost 102 quid.

And then he ordered a bottle of wine, but that only cost 78 quid. I think

bloody dear.

Well, it's a bloody dear place, the Savoy.

Anyway, he had this really odd way of drinking.

Every time he took a drink, he sort of got his mouth ready about five minutes

early, like... Well, neither I'm not as peculiar as that.

He must have spilt at least 42 quids worth of wine down his blazer.

He had on this blazer with shiny buttons and a badge with a little kangaroo on

the breast pocket.

Did you ask him about the job?

Yeah, I did.

He said they have VIP parties every week where he's the host and I'd be the

hostess, so I'd sort of be like a proxy wife for him. Proxy wife?

That's a bit much, isn't it? No, Martin.

Proxy wife.

Proxy.

Anyway...

He started smoking this big fat cigar and he dropped it on the carpet and when

he bent to pick it up, he fell off his chair and the waitress had to come and

pick him up. I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

Finally, I got him out of the restaurant and he was weaving and stumbling in the

foyer and then he said he loved me and asked me up to his room for a drink.

Well, what did you say?

I said yes.

I don't know.

I'm a disaster, aren't I?

I think I sort of felt sorry for him. What happened?

Well, of course, when we got up to his room, he wanted to have sex

with me.

Well,

he couldn't get his trousers off.

I mean, he got them down to his ankles and then he just...

The funny thing was, he didn't seem to realise he was lying on the floor. He

just kept on about how much he loved me. Oh, and then he said, would I mind if

we didn't have sex? Because he was very tired after long days wheeling and

dealing. And I said, no, I didn't mind at all if we didn't have sex. Well,

that's something, I suppose.

Oh, I'm so ashamed, Martin.

I mean, why can't I cope?

Other people don't get themselves into these ridiculous situations.

Well, I don't get into any situations.

I just sit in the bank and fester.

Well, aren't there any nice girls at the bank, Martin?

Well, yeah, there is one.

Renata, her name is.

She's German.

She's very dark.

You know, dark.

Well, she's really European.

She's got these little dark hairs on her forearms.

She sounds lovely.

Yeah, but, you know, she's two grades above me and she's really old. I mean,

she's 25 at least.

Do you know what she said to me today?

Mr Fuller had been ripping the piss out of me as usual and she said, never mind,

Martin, I think you're really cute.

And I said, hey, thanks, you want to go out with me tonight then? Just, you

know, joking.

She said, yeah, OK, why not?

Strange.

So what happened then?

Oh, I just sort of laughed, you know, and we both got on with our work.

Martin! But she probably meant it!

Oh, Martin.

I'm a hopeless loser, aren't I?

Oh, come on. Come here, come on. Cheer up. Give us the cuddle.

Oh, dear.

It's ironic, isn't it?

I'm desperate for it and I can't find anyone.

You shag like a rattlesnake. You don't even enjoy it half the time.

Martin, I don't shag like a rattlesnake.

No, well, you know. No offence, man.

I thought so.

You wait until I've gone to bed.

You get up again, and you meet up in here behind my back to tell each other

secrets, and have cups of tea without me, and have jokes at my expense, and

probably have sex as well, you pair of vicious bastards.

Oh, for God's sake, Matthew. Ooh, ooh, Martin, do it to me, please.

Wouldn't Matthew be amazed if he came in and caught us at it? Well, I have

caught you at it.

And no, I am not amazed, because... because I knew everything all the time.

I thought you were going to laugh at me behind my back. Matthew!

Well, laugh this off, wankers.

I'm kicking both of you out now.

No more Mr Nice Guy.

You can lurk off and starve in the gutter along with the rest of London's

losers. See how clever you feel then, right?

Sleeping in wheelie bins, peddling your fresh young bodies off to an old man's

lust for 40p. I don't care. I'm sorry.

Life's tough. I shan't shed a tear.

Go on, then.

But not tomorrow, now.

Go on, out in the street, out in the gutter. Right, I've had just about as

as I can stand. Are you coming, Martin?

Come on.

I suppose there's nothing else for it, really.

Well, um... Cheers, then, mate.

That's it, is it?

After all these years.

Cheers, then, mate.

You do this.

You do this.

What are you waiting for? Come on, let's leave, Martin.

Don't go.

That fooled you, didn't it? Go on, get out of here. The period.

Go on.

Don't you worry about me. I'm not a suicidal type. I can get by on my own.

Look, mate.

All right, yeah, OK.

What can I say, man? You talked me into it. Come on.

I'm too big a guy to see you perish. Come on, sit down. Me too?

Yeah, yeah, go and make us a cup of tea and we'll forget all about it, all

right? Like it never happened, yeah? OK, how's that? I can't say better than

that.

You make the tea.

Me make the tea? I don't make tea.

OK, why not? I like it. It's a wacky idea.

Why don't I make the tea?

Just for a laugh.

That's the kind of guy I am. A master of the unexpected gesture.

Why does he have to do this every Monday night?