All language subtitles for Desmonds s05e06 Fairy Tales

From the long walkway to the ocean
breeze, to the damp and to the rain of

city.

We come from the sun to live in the
cold, I'm in the room, I want my coconut

tree.

Let's keep the music sweet, wind up your
way to the feeling.

This is the first thing I ever did.

Still untitled.

Although, when I was putting it together
on my mum's fiction table, several

names were suggested for it.

I think at one point it was called...
Disgusting.

But it's free.

Well, I mean, Claw, have you seen how
much you're charging for that lump of

scrap metal?

That one of Alex's, you mean, Lee?

Oh, is that one of his as well?

It's nice.

Do you think Alex has sold anything yet,
Gloria?

Why don't you ask him yourself?

He's not a star yet, you know. Come with
me.

No, I'm okay here, standing on my own. I
get enough practice things. Oh, will

you stop it? I don't know what's up with
you at the moment. You're turning into

a real whinge bag.

Pardon me? You heard.

What's really going, Michael?

Oh, Gloria, glad to see you in a better
mood than you were the last time.

Hello, Ronnie. Hi, Michael.

Heard about your promotion.

Congratulations. Yes, well, you know,
bank manager today.

Fraud squad a week on Monday.

Mother tells me you had an interview
this morning.

Interview? You never told me.

Well, how did you get on?

Put it this way. I don't need to set my
alarm clock.

Oh, Michael.

My man, I'm glad you could make it.
Alex, how are you doing? Have you sold

anything yet? Oh, two down, eight to go.

Can I get you a drink? Sorry, I can't.
Got the five series outside.

Got the five series outside.

Alex, there you are.

Sorry to interrupt.

Oh, no problem, Fiona.

Hey, good news?

Could be.

I just overheard some favourable
murmurings from McKinley. Seems any

had about you have been quashed.

Success. Can't you smell it?

Is that what it is? And I thought
somebody was sick in the toilet.

Fiona, can I introduce my girlfriend,
Gloria?

All right.

How do you do?

Ronnie and Michael.

Fiona runs the West London Arts
Cooperative, amongst other things.

Are you in the arts as well, Gloria?

Oh, no.

I'm an unemployed, good -for -nothing
labourer, actually.

Yeah, with two A -levels and a wicked
sense of humour.

That's me.

Yeah, Gloria's been helping me get my
act together this past year. Yeah, she's

the source of my inspiration.

It's great, isn't it? I inspire him to
world one piece of rubbish to another.

Yes.

Alex, when you've got a moment, there's
someone I want to meet.

Excuse me.

Must go press the flesh.

What is it with you, Gloria? Oh, this
wine's nice.

Look, I bet you not.

You've been acting like this the whole
week.

Look, if there's something wrong, just
tell me.

Have you decided what you want to do for
your birthday?

Look, we could go out for a meal.

All right, then. Invite some of your
friends round and have a party at my

if you like. Oh, yeah. Bring a bottle,
your own food, crockery, cutlery. Why

don't I just tell everybody to meet us
at Sainsbury's?

Just do it yourself, man.

And if I don't see you tomorrow, happy
birthday.

You might have chosen something more
appropriate, Desmond.

To be honest, 20 years of age, and you
go and get her a card saying she's

She doesn't look that young.

It was all they had, besides if they
thought the cunts.

When Gloria sees this, she'll know that
we never gave it a moment's thought.

I don't know why you worry. It'll only
end up in the rubbish bin.

Listen, Mom, I've got to shoot.

Give this to Sister Grimm for me,
please.

I thought you said you didn't want any
presents this year.

Yeah, Desmond, you know what Gloria says
and what Gloria means are two different

things. If she says she's not hungry,
you know she's just about to eat up the

whole house.

Morning! Ah, the sleeping beauty awake.

Happy birthday, my princess.

Happy birthday, Gloria.

I ignored the ban and I bought you this
anyway.

Here. Thanks.

I'm eight!

Don't look at me if I'd have chosen.

Oh, I love it, really. Thanks, Dad.

What's this?

Knickers!

I bought you two bras as well.

Thanks, Mom. Just what I needed.

Good. Chance to get it.

Every black woman should know about
black men. Oh, can I read that when

finished?

You want some breakfast?

Oh, no.

I've got this.

That's not breakfast.

No, you're right, it's not.

It's a new beginning. You see this?

This pineapple was the start of a new
chapter in my life.

Oh, yes.

You're planning to get a job dressed
like Carmen Miranda?

No, it's a present to myself.

Look.

I knew you in just three days.

24 hours of self -pampering, clearing
the mind, cleansing the body.

Oh, perfect, Master.

Don't forget, you've got to sign on at
11.

Oh, I signed on last week.

But you were three days late then,
remember?

I can't even have one day. Just one day.

I didn't know you had to kill a
pineapple before you eat it.

I'm in a hurry.

No, not especially.

Just come to wish you a happy birthday,
you miserable old hag.

What are you up to?

I'm trying to find what I did with my
card.

Well, what does it look like?

Oh, yeah.

Rub it in, won't you, Ron? What does it
look like? You haven't ever seen one

close up, of course.

It's nothing choose to spend every other
week in a dog queue, you know. All

right, all right. Don't just snap my
head off.

When you said card, I thought you meant
a birthday card, not your UB40.

Yeah, well, it's around here somewhere.

Glor, you can't go on like this.

Well, don't say why not. Bother you,
does it?

I'm going to thump you in a minute. You?
Hit me?

Try it. You haven't forgotten that time
in the playground.

I know. So you've forgotten the time in
the toilet.

Ow!

You're what?

Alex was right. This is pure self
-indulgence.

So you and Alex been talking about me?
Yeah. And? I knew it. You're wanting for

yourself. Oh, yeah. That was the other
thing we discussed.

Your paranoia. Oh, shut up. Paranoid.
Shut up. Paranoid. Shut up. I could

a song about it.

Gloria Ambrose, self -indulgent,
paranoid old whinge -bag. You take that!

a whinge -bag! That's what I reckon you
look!

Hello, Mrs Ambrose.

Your father did buy you the right card,
after all. Well, she started it! I

never!

You've grown women.

This came for you.

Just tell me when it's halftime, and
I'll bring up the oranges.

Don't be like this, Ronnie.

I'm meant to be an independent woman of
the night. It's in charge of my own

life. Look, it says so here.

I've got to be beautiful, brainy,
loaded.

No excuse for failure.

I think you're being a bit hard on
yourself, love.

It's not your fault there aren't any
jobs.

Well, it's easy for you to say, cos
you've got a job.

All I am at the moment is Alex Reynolds'
girlfriend.

It's all lies, Ron, what they tell you.
What your parents tell you, our teachers

tell you. And these are the worst.

How to have your cake and eat it. Oh!

I'll just send them all back home and
get a refund. I must at least have 50

quid's worth. Well, why don't you?

What? I don't know what. Send the
magazine back.

Hmm.

Hurling a few of your magazines.

What do you think you're doing?

Backing shoes.

I'm giving them back.

The new era, the new woman, the new you.
There you go.

Now then, this is a publishing house,
not a recycling plant.

Oh, I could burn them. It's got a light.

George! It's all right, I'm going now.

You're not leaving that there.

George! Excuse me.

Gloria Ambrose, isn't it?

Fiona, isn't it?

This young lady's just dumped these
magazines.

And I'm not moving them. I'm making a
protest, you stupid woman.

Protest? Protest against what?

Well, amongst other things, hyper
-optimism, the indiscriminate use of the

perfect woman, too much gloss and not
enough undercoat.

Oh, dear.

It seems you have a disgruntled reader,
Erica.

Yes. And a friend of yours?

Yes. Gloria works with Alex Reynolds.

In between protests?

Yeah, well, I don't make a habit of it.

Can you spare half an hour, Gloria?

Depends what for.

Well, a chat, maybe a glass or two of
wine. You can tell me all about

And Alex Reynolds.

I don't deny I have an interest in the
arts, but I'd rather hear about you.

Clearly you have something to say.

Or haven't you?

Plenty.

Oh, Pye, I thought those chocolates were
for Gloria.

There were, but you told me she's on a
diet.

Well, I don't see the belly want me.

True. I'm sorry to hear Gloria's not
having a birthday party this year.

That's right. We can afford to pay our
telephone bill.

But you must have a big party next year
for 21st. So we'll have to remortgage

the shop.

When I was 21... You were a student?

Yes. How did you guess?

I remember your 24th book, right? You
do?

Yes.

We were just done that gig at the Silver
Springs Hotel.

An evening for lovers with the
Georgetown Dreamers.

With me, Desmond, Blossom Sinclair, and
her younger sister, Petunia.

Who were you with?

Our Popeye.

Lily's beach hut, and things were going
fine.

Yes, until some fool kick over the eye
lamp, and at least he had fire to the

place. I told him not to leave it by my
feet, and I was just starting to get

comfortable.

So, that's your idea of a hot date, eh,
poor guy?

And I hear Miss Lily's still looking for
the two of you.

To the young and on the run again.

Where is she?

Is she here?

Gloria? I thought she was with you.

No, she rang me about an hour ago, told
me to get my...

to meet her here.

Well, she must have some good news.

Maybe she backed a horse when it came
through.

Maybe she decided to study New Keynesian
economics.

Or maybe she decided to marry Michael
Jordan.

Don't be so stupid, Shirley.

Is he available?

I don't care what the news is, as long
as it's cheered her up.

Hi, all.

Well,

I'm here. He said to come. Did I?

Oh, yes. Oh, I did.

Well, Romney said you might have some
good news, Gloria.

Oh, that was nothing, really.

Just got myself a job.

A job?

Well, sort of a job. Temporary.

Any job is better than no job, Gloria.

Well, come on, tell us. What? Where? Who
with?

Would you believe?

VIP. VIP?

VIP. The magazine for today's women.

Oh. Anyway, they want me to write an
article for next month's issue.

My daughter.

A writer.

And their senior.

A hundred quid? Uh -uh. In advance, I
hope.

Tell them you want two hundred and
settle for one.

I did. You!

Just this morning, you were complaining
about all the junk they write in that

magazine. Then you go down the job
centre, and before you can say, what

principles, you're working for them.
Well, you were the one that said I

take a stand.

Did I?

Oh. Well, have you thought about what
you're going to write?

Well, Erica...

That's my editor.

He wants me to write something of a
South London flavour.

What about the barbershop? Exactly.

What about the barbershop? You should be
writing about me, a South London

lollipop man.

Is this a magazine to put people to
sleep?

I think a great writer ought to
experience all the wonderful myriad

life. The joy, the pain, the sorrow.

The barbershop.

Who's writing this article?

It's supposed to be about my hope, my
fears, my aspiration.

My, my.

Oh, I'm glad something good happened for
you, Gloria. I haven't seen your smile

for weeks.

Talking about?

Not last week, around half four. You
must have missed it.

Talking about smiles, this marble shop
is a very smiley place. Oh, Desmond. Not

now, Dad. I can feel an article coming
on.

Uh -oh.

Oh.

I'm going to bed now, Gloria.

Don't stay up too late.

And don't strain your eyes. And don't
forget to turn the light off.

Yes, Mother.

This is hopeless.

my act together.

My biggest achievement to date is
demolishing two packets of hobnobs

feeling sick.

You're useless.

Typical of me.

Failed before I've even started.

You're useless.

You make a mess of everything.

You're thick and you're ugly.

talking uncle p you

needn't look at me like that

where did you come from what are you
doing in that dress i'm your

fairy godmother must be putting
something in there mob knobs let me get

straight you're my fairy godmother yeah
man

started then. How many do I get?

Get? Yeah, wishes, you know. How many do
I get?

None.

I'm not that kind of fairy godmother.

I don't do wishes.

Now, are you sitting comfortably?

No. Then I'll begin.

Begin what?

Ah, sit down, shut up and listen.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there
was a beautiful princess who lived in a

sumptuous palace.

In the kingdom of Peckham.

Her name was Princess Haven't Got.

Haven't got a job.

Haven't got a car.

Haven't got a fax.

Haven't got a flat.

Haven't got the right figure to fit into
that.

Her parents, King Chatalot and Queen
Tutalot,

had recently been awarded the title Most
Patient Parents of Peckham.

Count of their unwavering support for
the self -obsessed princess.

But now even their halos were starting
to slip.

And so the king sought the advice of his
two sons.

Prince Earn a lot.

And Prince Swat a lot.

It is driving me in your mother's neck,
said the king.

We have to do something.

In truth, my lord, I do agree, because I
can't take no more of this.

Personally, me thinks the girl needs to
chew out.

A couple of nights in the spare tower
should sort her out.

Nice.

Not until she gets married.

Nay, mother.

Me thinks the princeling refers to the
starry, starry type of night.

Ah, me thinks we have it.

Pray tell me, my good queen.

Does our daughter have any suitors?

She's got plenty.

She just never wears them.

This debate continued into the early
hours.

I haven't got a limo. I haven't got a
letter.

Have you got the time?

I haven't got a Rolex.

I haven't got a Rembrandt.

Until suddenly Prince Ernelott hit on an
idea.

I know.

Why don't we marry her off?

Prince Ernelott?

What a brilliant idea.

I've been saying that for the last three
hours.

And so the news went out across the
realm.

Princess Haven't -Got was up for grabs.

The palace waited with bated breath to
see who would come and whisk the

away. But alas, none of the young
princes wanted to...

Oh dear, oh dear. One day, two young

princes arrived at the palace eager to
win the hand of the princess.

Prince Lot a lot.

And Prince Dean a lot.

I've got a 16 -valve, 5 -liter L -Rage
Ferrari outside.

And I have the patience of ten saints
and will put up with your violent moods

for all eternity.

More fool you, Prince Lot the Lot.

You to me are everything. The sweetest
song that I can sing. Oh, baby.

Oh, baby.

And so the two were wed amidst a lot of
partying and paying and paying.

Then the prince turned to the princess,
haven't got, and said, You're a pallet

or mine.

And they both lived happily ever after.

Oh, that's not the idea I've got in my
book.

I'm your fairy godmother.

No, I could pull pies, my fairy
godmother. You see?

Well, you're not doing a very good job
of it.

There's an old fairy saying.

If you want something doing, it's best
to do it yourself.

That's not an old fairy saying.

Yes, it is. I'm an old fairy and I'm
saying it.

Don't you have an appointment with a
tooth fairy?

Yes, but I... Goodbye.

This is where we get real at this, eh?

Let us go back a bit, shall we?

To the day of the great debate.

Just look at her.

It is more than I and she mother up in
beer.

Don't look at me. I'm not responsible.

There's nothing wrong in selling people
dreams.

Life is what you make it, honey.

Surely she will come through this, and
we'll see our real daughter again.

Nah, man.

The girl's too far gone. I reckon she
should be banished.

Banished? Haven't got a suitcase.

Yes, well, you can accept that.

Banished it is.

All those in favour say aye.

Aye.

And so, Princess Havingott was banished
forever to the land of doldrums. A

place where neither sun nor moon did
shine.

A dark and lonely place.

where she sat and stared out into the
darkness beyond.

I haven't got any friends.

I haven't got any friends.

I haven't got any friends.

Success. I can smell it. Yeah, it's the
ink drying on his chest.

You see, we told you you could do it. I
know, but two weeks ago I wasn't in the

mood to listen to anything.

I needed to believe in myself.

And do you now?

Yeah, you bet, Mum. I never felt better.
Couldn't have gone much worse.

But then one day I woke up and realised
that I had a choice.

Well, I must say, Gloria, I'm very
impressed.

I will be too if Matthew would let me
finish.

I could either wait for my fairy
godmother to come complete with three

get real, get a plan and go for it.

It sounds like me.

I'm really proud of you, Gloria.

About the article, Gloria, just a couple
of points. I've made notes.

Oh, yay, oh, yay, oh, yay!

Ambrose wins Nobel Prize for literature.

It was well done, little sis. I quite
liked incisive.

Nice quirky style. Something I would
have written myself, actually.

Yeah. Had you been a 20 -year -old girl
with a grudge against the glosses, yeah.

Right, everyone.

I would like to propose a toast.

To Peckham's newest authoress and my
daughter.

Your daughter? What's this, DIY?

It should be me making a toast,
actually, ma 'am.

Listen, this toast is to all of you who
have put up with me in my finest of

moods and generally supported me even
though I've been a complete cow.

So this toast is for all of you. Family
and friends.

Family and friends.

And fairy godmothers.