All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s10e08 ou Cant Always Get What You Want

What'll I do when you are far

away and I am blue?

What'll I do when I'm alone?

I always have to get in the back.

Because it's fun watching you trying to
get out the car without flashing your

bargain bucket.

You've got a patent door.

What for?

The trolley. I've never been charged for
a trolley in Waitrose.

Because Waitrose customers don't throw
their trolleys in the canal.

Is this all there is?

I've seen more selection in my hotel
minibar.

Bree's not very right, is it? It will be
by the time it gets to your age, doll.

Why don't you try and take your shades
off? No, I don't.

If someone were to recognise me... No
-one you know would be seen dead in a

place like this.

Exactly.

Oh, now I'm happy.

Toothpaste in the dairy cabinet. It's
squeezy cheese.

Don't tell me you've never had the urge
to squirt five inches of ripe cheddar

onto your tongue.

Not in public, no.

Oh! Oh, it's garlic.

Oh!

You can't do that!

I just did.

Hello?

Yes? This is she.

I did?

Well, no.

No, it's not a matter of money.

That's right, Dore. You play hard to
get. Push your price up.

It's a daily mail.

It seems I mentioned in someone's
frauded memoir.

Why not the price?

Yeah, no, I can't hear you. I'm shopping
in Harrods Food Hall.

Yeah, I'll take it outside.

Don't forget, if you see any organic
guinea fowl or lion -caught tuna...

know we're in the wrong shop.

You can put that back.

It's on offer.

We can't afford Malibu.

It ain't. It's Zara -boo.

What's the difference?

Five quid.

Oh, come on, Trace. It's X Factor
tomorrow.

We can play emotional roulette.

You know, you have to down a shot every
time someone bursts into tears.

No, we're on a budget.

Oh. We could waste 75 quid buying Travis
a new pair of trainers.

He's my little boy.

And I'm your little sister.

Yes, well, his feet are still growing.
Yours are beyond help.

Now, put it back.

Trace, don't.

It fell from the display.

Narrow. Missing my head.

You shall be hearing from my lawyers.

Want a hand, love? That's a joke in very
dubious taste.

Aye. Arm, Trace, arm.

Just because I've had a stroke doesn't
make me the object of mirth, you know.

Sadie, they're just trying to help.

Thanks. That would be lovely.

It's affected her personality, the
stroke.

She was such a sunny little creature
before. I'm not deaf, Annie.

And did you put these in here when I
wasn't looking?

What's wrong?

I hate tortilla chips.

They remind me of Spain.

That's why I like them.

Did you used to go to Spain for your
holidays then? We lived there.

Whereabouts? Tossa.

I was only asking.

Toss a demand.

Oh.

But it was nice to get back, wasn't it,
Sadie? To take things easy.

Easy? And the council won't even
blooming pay for a stairlift?

Oh, be fair, Sadie.

We live in a bungalow.

You didn't have to tell the council
that.

I did.

It's my bungalow. Exactly.

Your bungalow. I know I'm only there
under sufferance, but you don't have to

keep reminding me.

£53 .47, please. What?

In Spain, that'd be about 30 euros.

Don't mind her, dear.

Thank you, girls.

They're sisters, then.

I spotted that.

I don't think we'll be like that in 20
years' time.

Bickering and bitching. Oh, don't have
to wait 20 years.

All I've got to do is try and buy myself
a bottle of booze.

I want to give what you call my side of
the story.

I've got a critical court case coming
up. The last thing I need is my

trashed.

Very sad.

Very, very sad.

Tell me about it. She really hates her
sister.

I wouldn't say hates.

More bitterly resents.

I mean, the nice sister's got her own
house and car and everything.

And the twisted sister's got nothing to
look forward to.

We're not going to end up like that, are
we, Sharon?

Of course not.

What do you reckon, Dore?

Dore?

I wonder what the

papers will say about Dorian.

Probably that she's a clapped -out old
sex maniac who shouldn't be let out

without a minder.

That's not news, though, is it?

All right? You're home early.

Well, there's nothing more they can
teach me, is there?

Oh, look at you, cocky.

You were joking, weren't you?

Not really.

You'd better be.

Oh, good timing, Dor.

Now we've put all the shopping away.

We? I've just been speaking to my
solicitor about that ghastly journalist.

And? He says I haven't got a leg to
stand on.

Shut it.

If a national newspaper is determined...
I don't mean to call me a man -eating

good -time girl.

Can't complain, because it's true.

Except the girl bit.

Oh, you two might find this amusing, but
my entire future depends on the court

believing that I'm a serious novelist.
But why are they writing about you at

all? No disrespect, Orby, you're not
exactly A -list.

Oh, that, Travis, is a matter of
opinion.

It isn't.

writing about me because last month Lord
Shorthwell died while out fox hunting.

Serves him right.

And as he's dead, they're serialising
his scandalous memoirs. What, and you're

mentioned? Oh, not just mentioned.

Featured.

So you were strumping a peer of the
realm and you kept it to yourself?

But I didn't know.

Why, has it gone numb?

I didn't know he was a lord. He told me
he was a car dealer called Clive.

Which at least partly explains his
leather fetish.

So what did you actually get up to with
this Lord Bangalot?

Suffice to say, he kept a tank full of
snapping turtles.

Oh, chapter six.

Chapter six.

Hold on, though.

Look, if it all happened, they've got
nothing to sue you about.

It can't be plagiarism.

Of course.

You're right.

Travis, you are brilliant.

I might just sack my lawyer and hire
you. Oh, Travis, I could kiss you.

Can you tell the court, Mrs Green, how
you happened upon the nom de plume of

Foxy Cohen?

It's a bit of a joke, really, you know.

It's what's called finding your porn
star name.

I'm afraid I'm none the wiser.

Well, you have to combine the name of
your first pet with your mother's maiden

name. Well, that would make me Fru Fru
Cuddles the Third Ingram Jones QC.

Not. Terribly erotic.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

I think we may be drifting away from the
matter at hand.

Thank you, milady.

Sir Mrs. Green, having, so to speak,
disguised yourself with a pen name, or,

should I say, pet name, you

then felt free to plagiarise a pre

-existing bestseller of his.

Fifty -six. No, no, let me explain.

I admit I mimicked the title, but of
course titles are not copyright.

I do not need you to instruct me in a
point of law.

Bit rude, innit?

Sorry, love.

You used the term experiences, but did
you not simply steal your ideas from

other works of fiction?

No, no, these things happen to me all
the time.

We do.

Sadly for you, though, Mrs Green, there
doesn't seem to be anyone prepared to

corroborate your claim.

Except Lord Shoreswell.

Do you mean the late Lord Shoreswell?

I hardly imagine he'll be hurrying to
the witness box.

No.

But his scandalous autobiography will
soon be in the Daily Mail. And

I feature quite heavily on pages 35, 47
and 69.

And I think you'll find that his
recollections and my confessions

perfectly.

So to speak.

I always knew that justice would
prevail.

It's been a long, hard struggle and I
would not have survived without the

support of my publisher, my legal team
and two very loyal friends who took me

when I was virtually homeless.

Oh, that's nice.

to the Catinian Hotel to celebrate my
triumph!

A

selfish

mare.

After all we've done for her, she leaves
us on the pavement like a couple of bin

bags. I didn't want to go to no posh
ponty party at the West End anyway.

I flippin' did.

Gabby! In here, Mum.

Oh, Garfield, what are you doing here?

Helping Travis cook dinner.

I thought it would be nice for you to
come back to something up. Oi, that was

idea. Oh, that's lovely, isn't it,
Shell?

Well, let's eat it before we make a
judgement, eh?

So, how was the trial, then? She won.

Oh, a nice one. No, it's not.

What's the problem, then? The problem is
that ungrateful cow buggered off to her

party without us.

It's a bit out of order, isn't it?

Tell me about it.

At least Dorian's out of your hair now.

Yeah, there is that.

Wait, can I have my own sweet back? Of
course you can, love.

Hang on a minute, what about me? You can
go back in the guest room.

Oh, so I'm a guest now, am I?

Don't start, Cheryl. I told you, you can
stay here as long as you like.

Or until you decide to sell the house.

And why would I want to sell my house?

Mum, I promised Marcy I'd get back
before the evening rush, so I'd better

yeah? No, you stay here, you. You need
to hear this.

Sooner or later, you're going to have to
sell the house.

If you want to help your boys get on the
property ladder, no -one can afford a

house in London any more.

Unless you're a lottery winner or a
Russian... Ollie...

What's name, thingy?

Garg. Yep.

No, mate.

Olly Garg.

Chelsea.

Chelsea who?

And where does that leave me, eh?

Homeless and potless.

Like that sad old biddy in the
supermarket, moaning and feeling sorry

meself. Oh, you've had plenty of
practice, that it?

And you can play at being the master.
Cos you've had plenty of practice at

Oh, give it a rest, shall.

No -one can see the future.

You might meet a nice bloke, get a
little place of your own.

Life's full of surprises.

Mine ain't.

Anyone order a Bentley?

Get your feet off the seat.

Oh, please, we're here. Oh, isn't it
lovely?

Oh, my God.

He's opening the door for us.

Oh, cheers. Thank you very much.

I could get used to this.

You'll have to sleep with the chauffeur,
then.

Of course, I never thought I'd make it
back to Florida, but now... But isn't

Florida rather passe?

Yes, today it is Madagascar or nothing.

Those cute little lemurs are to die for.

I must have a lemur fur coat.

Although, of course, they are an
endangered species.

Exactly. No time to lose.

Oi, oi!

Dorian!

Talking of endangered species, who let
the dogs out?

Where did you get to?

Where did we get to? Where did you get
to? You went off with your entourage.

In fact, so much as they've pissed me,
aren't they?

Excuse me.

Oh, hang on, mate. Hang on, hang on.
Thank you.

Cheers.

Serves you right.

Hang on, mate.

Someone's pushed the boat out.

My publisher's so relieved.

He's already talking about 90 Shades of
Purple.

So you don't have any smutty stories
left?

Oh. Haven't even scratched the surface.

So, who are all these people, then?

Right, now, that's my publisher, Julian.

That's his PA, Sasha.

That's my agent.

That's my hairdresser.

That's my agent's hairdresser. And
that's not a clue.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I can take a
moment. I just wanted to say how did...

How delighted.

We all are with the wonderful outcome
today.

Before I hand over the door in to say a
few words, we have a special surprise

for you from one of Foxy's multitude of
celebrity admirers.

Hi there, love. I'm so pleased that you
won your court case and I loved your

book. It's great to know there's still
one woman our age who's getting it

regularly. I'm so sorry I can't be with
you in person, Doreen, but

congratulations on your triumph today.

You really deserve it.

That was touching, wasn't it? Didn't
even get her name right.

Any more bubbly?

Sorry, it's all gone.

Thank you, Julian.

That was lovely.

Oh, what an amazing day.

Now, Foxy Cohen would like to say a few
words.

Before I began to embark on a career...
No, wait.

Wait, I haven't finished.

I'll call you tomorrow, darling.

I'm on the meter.

That'll be done.

What just happened?

The boon's run out.

Swiftly followed by all your mates.

Run that. These are all our friends'
cobblers. Buy us again.

Don't kick her when she's down, Trace.

That's my job.

Oh, my God.

I have never been so humiliated.

What about Chapter 19?

Not even then.

Come on, doll.

There's a virgin bottle of Zarabuto.

It's got your name on it.

Oh, this is the worst thing I've ever
tasted.

Second worst thing I've ever tasted.

Well, it definitely smells of coconut.

So does my shampoo.

So you won't want to top up, then?
Whatever gave you that idea?

You're going to miss all this
intellectual banter when you're back on

celebrity merry -go -round.

She'll be off on some spa weekend with
her new best friend, Lorraine Kelly.

She's not my best friend, but we are
very close.

Then how come she didn't remember your
name?

Well, I think maybe I'll winter in
Miami, then next spring I'll look for an

apartment in London or Paris.

Although New York has its attractions,
galleries, Broadway, the Hamptons.

New York blokes are well endowed then,
are they?

I've brought your cases down. The taxi
won't be a minute. Oh.

Thank you, Travis.

Where will you go then, Dor? Well, I
haven't decided.

I think I'll Google in the taxi.

You'll go blind.

Here, Dor. You know you're all over
YouTube.

Vertical or horizontal?

Why? Your victory speech outside the
courtroom.

One of your fans must have uploaded it.
Of course.

My lovely, lovely fans.

It was me, actually.

I thought it'd cheer you up.

It did.

Momentarily.

That'll be your taxi door.

Well, thank you for everything.

You've been wonderful, both of you.

Even you, Sharon.

Hope our paths cross again.

Well, that's not going to happen now, is
it? Now that you're back on the A -list

and I'm back on benefit.

I'll put your bags in the taxi then,
shall I?

I'll never forget you or what you did
for me.

I never thought I'd say this, but I've
grown to envy you.

Your closeness, you know, loyalty, the
meaning of family.

That's nice, isn't it, Trace?

Quite touching, really.

See you then, Dor.

That meter will be clocking up.

Hi.

Bye. Bye.

Oh, Dor?

Yes? Can you give Travis your key on
your way out, love?

We would see you out, but Corrie's
starting in a sec.

Where's the remote, Trace?

You had it last.

You're probably sitting on it.

No, I ain't.

I'd have noticed.

You never noticed when you sat on my
hamster.

How long should we give her, then?

Five, four, three... I wonder who
that...

can be.

I wonder.

Night show.

Night chase.

Night door. Night door. Good night,
girls.

Sharon, there's a kebab in my bed.