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What will I do when you are far
away and I am blue?
What will I do when I'm alone
with only dreams of you
that won't come true?
What will I do?
Ah!
You all right?
Yeah, yeah. I'll live.
Where did you get to?
Well, I waited nearly an hour. I mean, what happened to you? I didn't think
take that long.
Anyway, I had to get back to let the jacuzzi engineer in, didn't I?
How did you get on?
They just bunged in a couple of stitches with the rusty needle, gave me an anti
-tetanus jab and told me not to dig the garden in my bare feet again.
That's all right then, isn't it?
No, that's not all right then.
I had to wait nearly three hours.
The queue for an X -ray was so long, I thought they must have been flogging cut
final tickets.
with multiple fractures had set in strange positions by the time they were
I don't know what would happen if there was a disaster in Chigwell.
You know, something really big like a train crash or your jacuzzi going on the
blitz. Oh, you're always taking the wrong ways, aren't you? But you don't
using my jacuzzi or my pool or my Nautilus machine.
Anyway, leave the hospitals free. You should be grateful for whatever you get
there.
You'd soon change your tune if you needed emergency medical aid.
No, I wouldn't. I'd go private. I'm with PPP.
What's that stand for?
Piss off poor people.
It's a private patient's plan.
Look at you.
Look, it was Daryl's idea. I didn't even know he joined.
But he said that if he ever suffered an industrial injury, he wanted to be seen
the same day.
Industrial injury?
You mean like getting a bullet in your leg during a getaway?
Why didn't you tell us about this private medicine lark before I started
up all morning?
Because you're not in it. It's for me, Daryl and Garthy. Though Daryl ain't
getting his money's worth at the moment.
I'm really not in it, this scheme.
I'm beginning to wonder if I've outstayed my welcome, Trace.
Ah!
Do you want me to sling my hook?
No, but you have got a place of your own, ain't you?
Well, I can't go back there, can I? Why not?
It's depressing, and it's cold.
The windows don't fit, the lifts smell, and the people are right common, Trace.
You're still renting out to that spiv, ain't you?
No. Who do you mean?
You know, that fat Stan.
You're still letting him use your flat to wear out his moody gear.
Yeah. Hey, a bit.
Do you want me to leave, Trace?
No, I just wish you'd be a bit more... What?
Grateful.
Servile.
You've got a short memory, you haven't you?
I remember when we was outside the court just after the boys had been sent down.
And there you were with tears streaming down your face.
Oh. Please come and live with me, Sharon.
I'll be so lonely.
I don't think I can face the world on my own.
Do you remember?
No, I don't remember.
What I remember was you pleading.
I don't mind staying for a few days until you settle down.
My place is such a dump. A few days? That was 16 months ago.
Why don't you tell us the voting cards have come?
The voting party can.
Great.
I'll be down that polling station first thing next Thursday.
I'll show that mathy Tory he can't go waking me up at a crack of 10 .30 every
morning. I know you won't.
Look, Trace, you can't stop me voting Labour. I know that bloke's got about as
much chance as Neil Kinnock has of growing dreadlocks.
You ain't voting nothing because you ain't registered, remember?
No, why ain't I?
Because when the voting forms came, you said you were the visiting Cypriot
diplomat.
Yeah, well, otherwise they'd have told the poll tax Gestapo and I'd have been
Lambert. So it's your own fault you can't vote.
Who's the other card for, then?
Daryl, of course.
Daryl? Well, I paid his poll tax.
He can't vote, you egg.
He's in the nick.
He's deprived, isn't he? Yeah, and he ain't the only one.
I'm not talking about his conjugals. I mean his electorals. Like me.
Not seeing you pay for him, I'll have his vote.
Waste not, want not. Don't be so stupid.
It says Daryl Stubbs.
No.
Daryl's bifectual. No, he bloody ain't.
I mean the name.
Ain't you ever heard of that Daryl Enner?
No.
And he said, look, panda, furry animal, eats shoots and leaves.
That's filthy.
Yeah, I know, bloody funny though, isn't it? I tell you, it's been a riot in
here. It's the last minute since they put this Barry Lodge in with us.
What? Not Barry Lodge the comedian?
Yeah, he got dumped at tax evasion, remember?
He was in all the papers.
Lodges, dodges, front page of the scum. Oh, I used to like him. He used to host
that Wednesday night act, didn't he? Yeah.
I bet you'd like a Wednesday night out now, eh?
The thing is, Barry's always played the stock market, and he's given me this red
-hot tip.
As the bloke said when he dropped a fag end down his wife runs.
Another one of Barry's jokes? Yeah. He deserves looking up.
Didn't we put some money away for the rates bill?
Yeah. Well, then.
Well, then what?
We're on poll tax now, aren't we?
It's got to be a lot cheaper than what the rates were. I mean... Tories made
sure of that. They got our interests at heart. Oh, don't you start with the
politics. I'm getting enough of that off of Sharon.
Oh, look. What was our rates bill last time out? A couple of grand?
If you say so.
And what's the poll tax?
350 and eight.
Right. So we're 1 ,650 notes up on the game.
Well, not exactly.
I paid for the two of us.
What do you mean?
You haven't paid Sharon's poll tax, have you? No. I paid yours.
What? I don't believe it. Cons don't pay poll tax.
The only people in here who pay poll taxes are the people who are in here for
not paying it.
I'm sorry, Daryl. It's just that when the voting bonds came, I couldn't bring
myself to write that you were in prison.
Ah, what a waste of 350 smackers.
Well, the thing is, there's a by -election coming up and... Right.
Oh, I'll escape, vote and get back in before I'm missed.
Daryl.
I'm sorry, Sugar. What do you expect me to say?
Well, can Sharon have it?
I thought she was having it, regularly.
Try and get a new cellmate before my next visit, eh?
I mean, can Sharon have your vote?
Why, where's hers?
Well, she ain't got one.
She didn't pay her poll tax.
It's criminal.
Here, tell her she can have it, as long as she pays for it.
Well, what did he say?
Oh, he said you can have it. Oh, what am I, as long as you pay for it?
The lousy minge bag.
And I agree with him. If you don't pay for it, I'm not having you lean out of
windows, abusing the candidates and disturbing my neighbours.
My, my, me, me.
I live here as well, you know. Which is why you should pay your taxes. Oh, my,
Daryl. All right, I will.
Good.
So how much is this vote going to cost me, then?
350 quid.
What?
Where am I going to get that sort of money from?
Come here, if you are. First little obstacle and you pack it in. That's not
true. No?
Then prove me wrong.
All right, I will.
I'll bet. I mean it. We'll see.
350 quid.
Look, it's a second -hand phone. It's never been used.
I'll give you a tenner for it and I'll watch Love Story with you again.
A tenner?
All right, a score.
And I'll hold the Kleenex.
50 quid and that's Daryl's final offer.
You traitor.
You don't want me to have a vote, do you?
You're a class traitor.
Look, you said Labour don't stand an earthly. I don't know what you're
so wound up about.
I'm getting wound up because you're winding me up.
If you're going to vote Tory, then someone's got to cancel you out.
Our mum are turning her grave.
Our mum voted Tory all her life.
What?
She never said nothing to me.
Well, of course not. Because you nearly had a cardiac when she told you about
the tooth fairies.
LAUGHTER What
is that?
That, Trace, is my poll tax.
Or it will be after a couple of days door -to -door in good old more -money
-than -cents Chigwell.
Where's it from?
Dan Stans, Sitcoast Man.
I don't want his moody giving my... Thank you very much. Oh, you hypocrite.
whole house is built on the profits of crime.
I'm talking of bonking.
I'm fine.
I will now. Look who's here.
Here, door.
Do you want a radio alarm clock? Only ยฃ7 .50.
Make sure you don't oversleep in someone else's bed.
Highly amusing, Sharon.
Now, I am here to talk elections.
Sharon, how are you going to vote?
Well... I thought I'd put a little cross in the box next to the person's name.
Presumably your labour, Sharon.
Take my advice, Tracy.
Don't let her put up any posters of Neil Kinnock in the windows. The house
prices will plummet.
And you, Tracy, will you stay true to your working -class origins?
Oh, you must be joking.
Daryl's a Tory, so Tracy's got conviction politics.
Same politics as the convicted.
Oh, then I was... Oh, in Tory?
Oh. What then, Tracey?
I ain't decided yet. You're a floater.
Oh, Tracey.
You're a bud.
A blossom waiting to ripen on the political tree of love.
Oh, my God, it's gardener's question time.
I don't know if I can be bothered to vote at all. What?
You must vote. Women died to give us that right.
You've got to vote Labour, Trace. You can't betray your roots.
Of course I can.
I'll betray him every time I have my streets put in. And so do you.
It's all right, Tracy.
Total political ignorance is nothing to be ashamed of.
But look, do you care about the sort of world your Garth will grow up in?
Of course I'll go.
Then it's easy. Vote Green.
Since when did you join the Greens, Dorian? Since she saw that the Green
candidate was six foot three and she thought, is that a cucumber in his
or is he just pleased to see me?
Not everything in my life revolves around sex, Sharon.
No, but you're working on it, aren't you?
My politics for one thing and my marriage for another.
No, I shall vote green because I am deeply concerned about global warming,
destruction of the rainforest, the threat to the ozone layer and the
pollution. Right.
Put me down for green.
You can't do that. You haven't heard the other arguments.
Well, I like that argument.
All right, stop glowing, Dorian. You'll melt the polar ice cap.
Look, what about Labour, eh?
What about the NSDP?
I mean, the LPDS.
Oh, the orange ones.
Hare Krishna!
I ain't voting for them.
No, Sharon, it is right, Tracey. You should hear all the arguments. Look.
There's the list of all the candidates.
Look, I'm dreaming of a white Chigwell.
Ah, that's the National Front fringe.
Look,
I'm meeting all these candidates at Marcus's round table.
Suppose I try and persuade the main ones to come and talk to you. Politicians
love floaters.
You must vote.
After all, democracy is the second best idea a man ever had.
Mum bedding?
No.
Oh, great.
From Madonna's new type. Of course you do. ยฃ2 .50, eh? What else you got?
Can of balls. Wet, wet, wet.
Barry Manilow.
Barry Manilow?
Yeah, well, that was in case your mum answered the door. She's not complete,
Wally.
That's fair.
Labour Party badges.
Yeah, I've been doing a bit of canvassing.
How much?
How much?
Yeah, a quid.
Yeah, you're all right, then.
Great.
Yeah? Are you into labour, then?
Give me a chance. I've only just got into sex.
No. Just because my dad has so much to do with Puckerman.
Give me five.
Badgers.
Yeah?
Now beat it. My dad sees you with them, he'll set the Rottweiler on you.
He's a fascist. Mum's a neo -fascist.
I'm Rapunzel. Bye.
Come in.
But I'd better tell you, I'm in the mood.
Don't worry, Mrs. Thompson. Nobody's in the mood for the Labour Party in
Chigwell. In fact, our whole campaign is a disaster.
A complete and utter nightmare.
This is the first time this week I haven't been told to use the tradesman's
entrance.
I shouldn't be surprised if I lose my deposit.
What? You've had to cancel your holiday?
sort of deposit, you doppo?
Turn my campaign into a horror movie.
Nightmare on Chigwell High Street.
You want me to vote for him?
Oh, it can't be that bad.
It's horrendous. It's made worse by the obvious fact that I went to public
school. The whiz kids at Party HQ think that puts me in with a chance, but
actually it just labels me class traitor.
Oh, isn't he wicked, Sharon?
Betraying his roots.
But having no chance gives me one extraordinary political advantage.
I can tell the absolute truth.
So what would you like to know?
Do you reckon Mrs T have read it off?
Well, there's two theories current. One, the sexist view is that if only she
did, she might be left, you know.
And two, the very sexist one is that she does and that's why she's... Crazy.
Why should I vote Labour?
Because the one thing we Brits have some reason to flag wave about is the
National Health Service.
Hear, hear.
It's our greatest achievement as a nation, and it could only have come from
Labour Party.
Free health care for all.
Well, except David Owen, of course.
Yeah, Dad?
Yeah, they went great.
Flubbed a lot.
Trouble is, I've still got to raise another 100 quid, so what else you got?
Nothing!
But deliver as late as you like, eh?
I'll get a mega ear -bashing from Mother Teresa.
Um... Two boiled rice, then half a dozen poppadoms, please.
So,
you haven't made your mind up yet, then?
Not really.
Good.
Good, Tracey.
Have you moved in?
I am about to introduce Tracey to the green candidate.
Hiya. A tenner says he's a winner of a David Icke look -alike competition.
Done.
You can get it if you like, Sharon.
Who's David Ike? Who's David Ike? The gorgeous Sid.
He's that gorgeous hunk who used to present Fortnite.
I thought that was David Coleman.
If you think David Coleman's a gorgeous hunk, you've been without a man for too
long.
Jill, this is Trainly, our floater.
Hi.
Thank you.
Well, where shall we start?
CFCs, deforestation, catalytic converters.
I was catalytic the other night.
Sharon, be quiet. The grown -ups are talking.
All right, then. Why should I vote green?
Because we must all be deeply concerned about global warming, about the
destruction of the rainforest, the threat to the ozone layer and the
pollution.
I never saw your lips move once, Dorian.
That'll be my agent.
I'll go.
No, I'll go.
Here's my ass, Dorian. Her ass.
Her knocker. Her doorknob.
I bet this one's a David Icke lookalike.
Hadn't really noticed.
Oh, hello.
You must be the Jolly Green Giant.
Hi.
Hi, Jill.
Hi, Dorian.
Been talking shop?
Yeah, she's just about to recycle a tenner.
Sharon, come here now.
I'm here, I'm here.
I want my kitchen back.
What are they?
They're teddy bears.
I can see that. I don't care what they are. Get rid of them now.
Picnic in here.
Why? Well, help me load the car, then.
My car, you cheeky mare?
Hey, please, don't throw it. Why not?
They're not just teddy bears.
They're, um, what do you call them?
They're nicks, aren't they?
You get these out of my ass now.
Dorian's on her way round with the Tory.
I'll look like a thing.
You give me Daryl's vote, I wouldn't have to do all this. Oh, oh, I see. So
my fault, is it?
Well, everything else in this house seems to be yours.
This is Lawrence Clark, your conservator. Good morning, Tracy.
What a lovely pair of bears.
Thank you.
Excuse me one tiny moment, please.
Sharon, take these bloody bears.
Excuse my French.
Give me the key ring, dear. Eh? The ring. Give me the ring.
The ring.
What's this? The Tommy chap?
Marvellous. Security bears, eh?
Marvellous.
They're perfect little crime fighters, aren't they? First class.
Sharon. Oh, Lawrence.
I could be right in assuming that you hope for a certain amount of
entrepreneurial success with these, then.
Oh, flog them, you mean?
Yeah, flog them, quite.
Uh, yeah.
Well, you know, how much are they?
Uh, score each, or, uh, five for a tonne. Well, I'll take a tonne. I'll
tonnes right now. Right, you're on.
I love these. I think we could do a lot of business in future.
Oh, uh, tell you what.
Here.
The right to security of our property is a prime tenet of a free society.
We conservatives are, have been, and ever shall be the party of law and
Personally, Tracy, when returned, I shall be pressing for the most serious
reforms of our wishy -washy prison system to make sure that the criminal
are off the streets sooner and for a damn slight longer.
Lots of money. He bought the whole lot for a Tory car boot sale.
Now, I've got enough money to buy Daryl's vote and vote Labour.
Wicked, eh?
No, just par for the call.
You know, I quite liked him.
Well, vote for him, then.
I'm tempted.
But then you'll be doing that, won't you? Oh, will I? Won't you?
You are a burk, Sharon. You know nothing, you just assume everything.
Like what?
Like you assume I'll vote Tory.
And like you assume, I don't mind listening to your assumptions.
Well, I do. I mind a lot.
Oh, you trying to kid.
You're Tory through and through, you are.
Like a stick of Chigwell rock.
Yeah, and you call yourself a socialist so you flog knocked off gear to Tories
because you cheated on your poll tax.
Pathetic. Excuse me?
Which bank raid paid for this kitchen, eh?
All right, so I use your things.
But you know what I've put back?
Life.
I hold you up, Tracy Stubbs.
Without me, you'd be in sackcloth and ashes wailing till 1997 like the
Ayatollah's mum.
I can cope without you.
voting card right?
pine chairs.
Mr. Tables.
Love them.
Where's me bed?
A blatant photon.
Kill him.
I have to sleep on the couch.
Oh, where's me couch?
He can't do this to me.
Drink, Tracy.
No.
Oh.
Thinking about Daryl?
No.
Nice and quiet, though, isn't it?
No.
Oh, don't worry, Tracy. She'll be dead in a minute.
Hello? Hello, Trace.
No, I'm sorry.
Yeah, I'll miss you and all.
You stay put, I'll get a taxi.
Bye.
What are you looking at?
I'm sorry, Trace. You were right.
It is your hair.
No, I'm sorry.
It's theirs.
No, it's yours.
Are we sure? Oh, don't start.
Here's Daryl's voting card.
And here's the 350 quid.
Minus the taxi fare.
You'll never get away with it. It's a 350 quid, I think.
Mr Darrell Stubbs?
Yes. You seem rather well endowed.
Actually, it's a bit embarrassing, but it's all part of the process, you see.
Process?
Yes. I have to live a whole year as a woman before I can have the final
operation, you know.
Snip, snip.
Bob's your auntie.
Have a look. Oh, no, no, no.
And we'll be going over to Julian to get the result.
Oh, I'd like to get a result with Julian. It's the shirt, I think. Oh, no,
my... Oh, look at this smile to die for.
Good evening from Chigwell Town Hall. Is it the Town Hall? Come on.
Behave yourself, Dorian. Normally, there isn't anything for Labour supporters to
get excited about in this conservative stronghold, but tonight... Yes?
Tonight is an exception.
Even Chigwell was the revolution!
Of course, Labour haven't won.
Oh.
But at least this time round, they've saved their deposit.
Hooray!
and saved it by an incredible margin of just one vote.
That was me! That was me! Excuse me, that was me!
Well, I couldn't vote Tory after what he said about the prison.
Actually, it was me.
Bloody two -timing greens.
Trust us to give you more of what you need after the break with a good old
in the form of more birds of a feather.
And trust is an issue for Tracy and Daryl as he suspects their therapist is
cracking on to her.
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