All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s10e02 Slave.eng

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Original subtitles

What'll I do when you are far

away and I am blue?

What'll I do when I'm alone?

No, it ain't Tracy. It's her sister.

Yeah, far away.

You what?

You dirty toe rag.

Yeah, yeah, I will tell her. And then I'll tell the old Bill.

You were sitting there three hours ago.

And you better not call back, you slimeball.

Who was that?

Some sleazebag going on about how much he'll pay you if you service his massive

pump.

Of the perv.

That's Mr Bolland, my best customer.

Bolland? I thought he said Belle. Sharon!

I told you I'm doing telly sales.

Yeah, I know.

But I didn't know it was phone sex.

Why don't you ever listen?

It's a plumbing supply company.

One of us has got to earn a living.

I've got a job. I thought you weren't going back to World Aquid.

I mean waiting on Dorian hand and foot.

For no money.

What do you mean no money? She's banging us 500 a week. No, she's banging you

500 a week.

I'm just an unpaid slave.

In fact, you are infringing my human rights.

I could take you to a tribunal.

Yes, but before you do that, you can take yourself down the shop.

I've got Dorian's ivory soap flakes.

What about me coffee?

You ain't got time for that.

I'll go on strike.

No -one would notice.

May I look at this one, please?

Oh.

It's £1 ,500.

We do have a few more affordable items at the back of the shop.

Allow me to explain.

I am an internationally acclaimed best -selling author. You work in a shop.

I have accounts on 5th Avenue, Bond Street and the Avenue Montaigne.

You've obviously been dressed by George of Asda.

While I would warn you appearances can be deceptive, you are exactly the snot

-nosed Essex princess I suspected you were when I came in.

D 'oh!

What were you doing in Chigwell's Poncius Bag Shop?

They charge you 100 quid just to look down their noses at you.

I like to go in there now and again, just to frighten the life out of them.

But you, lady, are on a strict budget until your copyright contract thingy's

been sorted out.

I am painfully aware of that, Sharon.

How the flighty have fallen.

wrong with a bit of prime army, though. So what did you get?

Do you mind?

Taxi! Oi!

You can't waste dosh on a cab.

We'll get a bus.

I have not been on a bus since I left the Barbra Streisand High School for go

-getting Jewish girls.

Well, it's time you got reacquainted, then.

I'll go to the newsagent, get you an oyster.

Newsagents sell seafood now.

You have no idea, have you?

Tracy, I need to speak to you. Now.

Now, what's so bleeding urgent?

One of my breakfast eggs was too runny and the other was hard. How does she do

that? It weren't easy.

I'll mention it to my staff.

Sharon, sort it.

Now, can you please leave me alone? I've got work to do.

That laundry is pure Italian silk. You are washing it with ivory soap flakes,

I asked. Of course.

I could get.

I should have known better than to trust my delicates to Chigua's answer to

Edward's sitter hands.

Right, rinse them out, hang them up, attend to my ironing, and then come and

clean my en suite.

You're having a laugh, aren't you?

Listen, lady.

When I agreed to pay Tracy a handsome rent to stay here instead of a hotel,

promised me civility and service.

Does what you're about to say fit in with that?

Thought not.

And that includes hand gestures.

I'm going to swing for her, Tracey.

She's only got me hand -washing her pants.

At least she's wearing them now.

She's taking liberties.

She's got me running, fetching, ironing. Come on. She's paying our rent. End of.

Now, let me get on with me telethon. Well, I'm warning you. If she calls me

the toilet and asks me to wipe her... Sharon!

You'll be the one pulling her face out of your bend.

Go on, Tracey. No!

It's a lovely day. Why don't you take Poppy to Legoland or something?

I mean, Nanny Tracy would take you, but she's too busy working.

I think it's fun, though.

We're broke.

Yeah? Maybe we should all think about getting a job, then. Way ahead of you,

Tracy. I'm getting my massage business up and running. And I've registered with

a catering agency. Once work gets round, I will be swamped.

Hey, I've got an idea.

Why don't I cook us all my speciality for lunch? Oh, yum!

Have you got any smoked pig cheeks?

Oh, no. What a shame.

Sharon just used the last of it in a fry -up.

I'll make us some beans on toast after I finish making these corns. Thanks, Mum.

Trice, are they supposed to be crotchless?

Or have I been rubbing too hard?

Ow!

Ow!

Ow!

Where did you learn to massage? Guantanamo Bay?

Don't expect a repeat booking.

Shame. I do a discount for how I pay it.

The bathroom is spotless.

You can see your face in that bidet.

Or anything else you might want to look at.

And why have you got four different types of make -up remover?

I just rub my face in the pillow.

This house is like Piccadilly Circus in a rush hour. Oh, tell me about it. And

would somebody please have a word with Poppy?

There was a pair of skates outside my door. If I had tripped on them, I could

have broken my neck.

It weren't Poppy who left them there.

Thing is, Dot, I'm not really earning and the bills are stacking up. Oh, spare

me the domestic drama.

Would you like an advance on your rent?

Please, if you could get them to transfer it over now.

No offence, I love having you all here, but it's just... Get it, Tracey? It's

fine. Yes, hello, Dorian Green.

Date of birth?

1876.

Is she paying you for a massage?

Damn straight she is.

Bet she tries to rook me, though. She moaned all the way through it, that it

like being manhandled by the Turkish wrestling squad.

And she'd know.

It wasn't no walk in the park for me.

She's all skin and gristle.

It's like putting your hands on a half -dab chicken.

That can't be right.

Let me speak to someone in authority, immediately.

Come on, there must be more than that in there.

Well, what about my other account?

Foxy going one brackets, handbags and fox clothes brackets.

Oh, I see.

Did they transfer the money okay?

Not yet. Computer glitch.

So why has all the colour drained from your face?

Maybe one of her facelifts is leaking.

Look, they're just saying that there isn't as much in there as I thought, but

it's wrong.

You're a skint, ain't you? No, I'm not.

It's a mistake.

Let's all go out for lunch. My treat.

She's in denial.

Shall I slap her? That's when someone's hysterical. You say tomato. No!

You'll pay me £500 a week.

I thought I could. And now it turns out my solicitor's keeping it all as a

retainer. Ah, that's left me right up the creek.

How am I supposed to pay the bills? Let me slap her. Oh!

Oh, what is going to become of me?

Oh, my God, I'll have to go on benefits.

You'll be out of luck, love.

The golden years have gone.

You've got to have half a lung and 14 dependents before you can even get a

token now.

He kept telling you not to spend, but you carried on buying new clothes.

Yeah, well, it's only time up.

Well, I don't know what you bought in there, but it weren't this.

Celebrity McCartney.

Oh, my God, how many clothes have you got?

Unbelievable.

Designer.

Designer.

Designer.

It's a compulsion.

Nice things validate me.

I'll validate you in a minute.

Look, if you can't afford to stay here, then you're not staying here. No,

please, Tracy, don't throw me out. Sharon, get the bin bags.

Ooh, cheer up, door.

You've got a face like Wayne Rooney chewing a thistle.

There must be another way.

We can't sell all my beautiful clothes.

Have you found a couple of grand stuffed in your knickers?

Of course I haven't. Then they're going.

Where exactly are we headed?

Chelsea?

Camden Market?

I mean, you told her.

Told me what?

Here we go.

No!

What's happening?

Dealers. Just trying to get their hands on your goods store.

It's been a long time since anyone said that.

Get away.

Get away.

Get away.

Get away.

Grab them while you can, girls.

This is a one -off liquidation sale due to a very old concern facing financial

ruin.

That's a Donna Karan exclusive. Have you washed your hands?

Excuse me?

He's an ex -drag queen. He's flogging all his gear and he's finding it hard to

let go.

How much is this?

£250.

£40. And I'll throw in a scarf.

That's from Liberties!

I thought I could put that on my dog.

You have no idea how appropriate that is.

Thanks, lovely cheese.

These people are philistines.

They wouldn't know a clath of it crawled in their ear and shouted Chanel.

Do you think this will suit me?

No, you'll look like a pig in bally pumps. Put them down.

Stop putting the punters off or I'll lock you in the car.

They're not... Have you my Stella McCartney? If you don't want to end up

Boots' doorway, wrapped in cardboard, then go and sit over there and shut your

gob.

Mum,

is that sort of Towie?

It's not a sort.

She's a girl.

It shall.

It's that sort of Towie.

Yeah!

Excuse me, you're, uh... You're you, aren't you?

Yeah, but keep it quiet. I'm trying to keep the low profile around here.

Yeah, yeah, of course.

But you're blending right in.

Oh, we love these D &D knockoffs.

How dare you? They are genuine and original.

Yeah, of course they are, babe.

Oh, my God. I love those shoes.

What, these?

No.

These? No.

Those. No!

These are my favourite Manolo Blahniks.

Hold her down, Trace.

All my lovely clothes.

Gone.

Well, look on the bright side.

Got a new pair of trainers out of it.

Well, they're new to you, anyway.

I tell you what, it did go like hotcakes.

Your herpes handbags.

Hermes.

Whatever. So, how much did we make?

Nearly £1 ,287.

Yeah, well, we could have made double that if we'd sold them through a

specialist outlet.

I haven't got time for all that, Pilar, but I've got bills to pay.

Right, I've worked out that you owe me £1 ,150, which means that I owe you £136

.90. There you go.

Give me that.

I tell you what, girls, when it gets dark, you get a different sort of bloke

comes here with his car.

You come back there and you could double that.

All right, door?

Fine.

Want a cup of tea?

Yeah, that would be lovely.

That'd be £1 .50.

Well, you don't want to run up debts you can't pay for.

I'm joking, door.

I'll put the kettle on, eh? I am so glad my mother isn't here to see me like

this.

Be upset, would she? No, she'd be delighted.

She always said I'd end up with nothing, and she just loved being right.

Well, if you're looking down, Mother, or more likely up, congratulations.

Cheer up, Dor.

You just have to get yourself into a different mindset.

Say goodbye, Dolce & Gabbana, and hello, shoplifting.

I know you mean well, Sharon, but you really have no idea how I feel.

My wardrobe has been so severely decimated that I'm reduced to wearing

season's Donna Karan with a Dior skirt circa 2010.

Oh, poor you.

And tomorrow's headlines will say, Pensioner found strangled with her own

belt.

And not this year's Gucci belt.

Tom, Marcy, lounge now. What's going on? I'm putting my foot down.

Sit.

You are all living in my house, and I'm the only one with a job. While it's very

nice having you here, I ain't a branch of help the homeless.

So you all need to get out and get some money, lively.

Well, I've got £130 from the car boot sale.

You owe me for that massage.

I'm earning truth.

And Gus, I've got a job. What? Jamie Oliver got in touch.

Not exactly.

Well, the French one on the corner, Raymond Le Roux. Michel Leblanc.

No, C .D.

McCrusty's. You know, that sandwich chain.

It's temporary, all right?

It's just till work gets round. Oh, never mind, love.

From little acorns, big mountains do grow.

Well done.

Right, that just leaves you two.

Well, I suppose I could always go back to World of Quidd. I thought you chucked

it in. Well, I haven't left officially.

They probably just think I'm round the back having a crafty fag.

Anyway, I'm writing my new book.

Oh, that'll take ages to come out and it'll be a load of old codswallop when

does. I've never become a literary agent, Tracy.

I'm talking about a proper job.

But me, what?

Well, let's think about what qualities you've got.

You're manipulative.

You're selfish. You're cunning.

Maybe something in public relations.

You've never done a proper day's work in your life.

There's only one place that'd employ you.

Welcome to the world of quid.

Harrods for poor people.

Sharon? Let's not make eye contact with a punter's door. They're all a bit

rough.

Most mornings, even after, like Pippa Middleton.

My, you.

You want to see the rubbish they get through the doors at 99p heaven.

What's that?

That's Winnie.

She pops in for a cuppa since the council closed down the gay centre.

Obviously, we don't have a dress code.

This is a nightmare.

No, Dor, this is the real world.

You're Kirsty Allsop, arts and bread, Harvey Nicks lifestyle, that's the

illusion. Well, it's not a world I want to stay in for a second longer.

Sorry, I don't want to work here. No wonder.

But like you, we don't have an option.

The general manager's waiting in the office.

Word of warning, flushing your gutter out won't do you no favours.

He's married to a dentist called Cyril.

Go on.

You

don't

want one of them.

A woman brought one back yesterday.

She said when she lit it, it went up like a Roman candle.

Took her eyebrows off.

Did you take them off the shelf then?

I just work here.

Look, how long's this interview going to take? I need to know whether she's

earning, so I know whether I can go to Lidl or Waitrose.

I really hope she gets it.

Then she'll be the newbie.

It'll be my chance to make her life a misery for a change.

Don't you think she knows that? She'll gnaw the interview up on purpose.

Well, if she does, you chuck her out the en suite, right?

Definitely.

What are you grinning at? You're not having it, I am. You can share the box

with Dorian.

Trace? I'd rather eat vegetables.

Here she comes and she's smiling, which means she didn't get it.

Well, we got on like a house on fire.

Apparently we went to the same university.

50 years apart.

So you got the job then?

No. I knew it.

When I told him about my degree, he said I was far too overqualified.

Oh, did you have to mention your degree?

Couldn't you just have made out you was a penniless old codger desperate for a

job? Oh.

Hang on a minute. That's the truth, isn't it?

Oh, don't worry.

Iceland are looking for cleaners. If I could finish, we talked about my degree,

we talked about the two -year business study, of course, I took in night

and he was very impressed by the fact that I have a detailed knowledge of

balance sheets and company accounts.

Have you?

I was married for 27 years to an accountant with erectile dysfunction.

What else do you think we got up to in bed?

I don't like how this is shaping up. I bet you don't. The bad news is, your

store manager has been let go due to gross incompetence.

Apparently hiring you was the last straw.

The good news is, they've offered his job to me.

But you turned it down, right?

Because you don't really want to work here, remember?

Not as a till -operating, shelf -stacking drone like you.

But as an executive, charged with whipping this store and its staff into

that's a challenge I couldn't resist.

I'll answer me notice.

Oh, yeah, you do, and you can find yourself somewhere else to live.

So, Sharon, you can start by getting rid of Winnie. This isn't a branch of Age

UK.

Then you can sweep up the garden section.

Oh, and then you can clean out whatever it is that's blocking up the staff

toilet. It looks suspiciously like one of yours.

This is going to be such fun.

Fair enough, Dore.

And to welcome you to World of Quidd, I'd like to present you with this

candle.

Think of me when you light it.

in here or anything.

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