All language subtitles for Snuff Box - Episode 1 - Rich s Mother

Matt, Matt, wait up.
Hey, Matt, sorry l'm late. Are we early?

- No idea, I've lost my watch.
- Wow, you never do that sort of thing.

I know. My mind's elsewhere,

what with Irene and her Spanish cousin
and everything.

Irene's hot. Man, I envy you.

You can take girls anywhere.
I haven't got a bean.

I haven't got a bean
But my shoes are clean

- What the hell's that?
- Oh, it's just an old song.

Anyhoo, not having cash,
it sucks like a fuckity-suck.

It's not about cash, you fool,
it's about manners.

What do you mean?

Well, a man's got to
watch his mouth these days.

The ladies don't like the effing
and the jeffing that you're so fond of.

- The what?
- Cursing.

Well, what about that girl
you took me to see in Soho?

I mean, all you did was eff and Jeff.

- That was different.
- Why?

- She was a prostitute.
- Oh,yeah.

What the hump was
the name of that club, anyway?

Oh, God, yeah.
On the corner of Berwick Street.

Rick, what's the name of that tom shop
on the corner of Berwick Street?

- Oh, fuck. The Purple...
- No, the Blue Leopard.

- What did you just say?
- The Blue Leopard.

That's it. The Blue Leopard.

Hey, he just effed.

Of course I did.
I'm a fucking priest, ain't I?

Oh, Christ.

I can't be in love in this plastic

To live on my own just seems tragic

But we'll raise ourselves high
when our day comes

We thought it was gold
but it was bronze

So get here in time when our day comes

You thought it was gold
but it was bronze

- Hey, do you wanna play pool after this?
- No.

- Why not?
- Because I've got "poolsey".

Hmm.

Hey, how come that dude
looks exactly like you?

Because that dude is
Sir Charles Berry, you idiot.

A great-uncle
and founder member of this club.

And more importantly, he's the reason
why we get to sit here

-and sip whisky all day. Say cheers.
- Cheers, Chuck.

Your mail, gentlemen.

Of course we're male gentlemen.
Are there any other kind?

- Very good, sir.
- You're the best, Ken.

Sweet! Another royalty cheque
from my mom's estate.

Thanks, Mom. She's dead, you know.

A royalty cheque, you say?
So you must be in money.

- You fancy a game of darts?
- Sure.

- For cash?
- Sure. Is it complicated?

It's a piece of piss.

Hey, is this all you have to do?
This is fucking easy.

I could do this all day.

Well done.

So, who the hell was your mother?

Ricky from the office reckons
she was some kind of famous singer.

Yet you always insist on keeping mum,
if you'll pardon the pun.

Hey, how'd you do that?

Wait, my mom's dead, alright?
Let's just leave it at that.

Karen Carpenter.
It's gotta be Karen Carpenter.

No. Do I look like Karen Carpenter?

- Go on, Matt!
- Roseanne Barr.

She's alive, ass-dick.
Could you just drop it, please?

- Absolutely. Janis Joplin.
- Fuck you.

I win. $1,000, which happens to be

the exact same amount that's written
on this royalty cheque.

Sorry, Momma.

I know l'm not supposed to say this
on the first date, but...

I really, really like you.

I know l'm not supposed
to say this, either,

-but I really, really like you, too.
- That's great.

'Cause I didn't know, you know.
I thought...

In fact, I like you so much,
I don't think we should even kiss

until we get married,
which should be tonight.

We could check into a youth hostel,

because I don't have any money,
I lost it all in a darts game,

and we could make wild, passionate love.

Blindfolded, of course, because I have
full-blown shingles growing up my ass.

And then I could quit my job.

And then I could steal a pig
and kill it with a stick.

And you could cook it.
I don't know if you cook or not.

- That's optional..
- Okay. Did you see what you did there?

You started out great
when you said, "I like you."

Do you remember what you did after that?

Not really, it was kind of a haze.

Yeah, you mentioned the full-blown
shingles and killing the pig.

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah. That's not good.

Oh, is that paté?

- Yeah, knock yourself out.
- Mmm.

Hi. I was wondering
if a girl called Natasha worked here.

I phoned about some silver cowboy boots.

I could be wrong, it may be
the shop across the street,

- thinking about it.
- I can only really answer questions

relating to items I have on order
or here in the shop.

Yeah, but you could quickly tell me

if a girl called Natasha has or has not
ever worked here, surely.

Like I've just tried
to make clear to you,

I can only help with matters regarding

current or forthcoming stock
available in this shop.

Do you know what, mate? Forget it.
You're obviously rushed off your feet,

and I should've had more manners than
to have bothered you in the first place.

- Don't mention it.
- Excellent.

Another day, another dick.

- What did you just say?
- Well, unless I've contracted malaria

and gone deaf, I believe you heard
every word I said.

Shit!

- Okay, you wanna jazz-dance, prick?
- Yeah.

- You got your tap shoes on?
- Yeah.

- You want some more?
- No.

I'm a rapper with a baby

With a baby

I got a little bitty
motherfucking baby

Don't say maybe

He's got a baby

He got it 'cause he did it with a lady

I rap with my baby in the coffee shop

I rap with my baby in the parking lot

I'm rapping with my baby
in a cocaine den

I rap all day with my baby
And I'd do it again

Don't say maybe

We got some babies

We got 'em 'cause we did it
with some ladies

Don't say maybe

We got some babies

We got 'em 'cause we did it
with some ladies

Listen to this.

"A fellow walks into a labour exchange
to look for work.

"The man behind the counter asks him
if he can make a cup of tea.

"Yes", the fellow says.
"Can you drive a forklift truck?"

"A forklift truck?
Well, how big's the fucking teapot?"

- That's a bit strong for a broadsheet.
- Yeah. Hoo-ha.

- What the hell's the matter with you?
- Look, I think we're in the shit, man.

I can't stop thinking about that couple
at the Blue Leopard last night.

I can't sleep, it's so terrible.

I need someone I can talk to.

Thanks a lot, man. I gotta piss.

Not that one, it's out of order!
Use the other door.

You're so brazen,
you really are. I love it.

Who the hell are you?

Who the fuck are you?
And where's the john?

Alright, old boy, it's alright.

My name is Sir Charles Berry,

and this rough and ready diamond
is my man servant Wormwood.

- And you are, sir?
- I'm Rich.

It's been a pleasure, but I gotta piss
and get back to my pie.

Hey, you look like the guy
in the painting in the club.

And you look like Ken.

- I think it might have worked, sir.
- I think you may be right.

I think you may be right!
Now, Mr Rich, I don't mean to alarm you,

but I think you may have been
sent back in time.

I'm imagining by my great-great-nephew
Matt, would I be correct?

No, I was just talking to Matt.
I was telling him how I was in the shit

and that I gotta piss,
and he told me to go through this door.

And to tell you the truth,
that's where I am right now.

I feel like the biggest dick in London.

Hey, are we on the Ghost Channel? Fuck!

Mr Rich, tell me something.

Does everybody curse
with such vigour in your times,

or are you suffering
from some kind of malady?

Like I said, I'm in the shit.

I did something real bad
and I can't tell anybody about it.

Well, you're amongst friends here, sir.

Well, you see, it's really disgusting.

Oh. Very well Wormwood, would you be
so kind as to secure some refreshments

- for our good selves and Mr Rich?
- My pleasure, sir.

Thanking you. So, Mr Rich,
what caused this depression?

In your own time.

Okay. Well, it all happened last night.

Matt and I were on Berwick Street,
and he wanted to go to the Blue Leopard,

- which is this brothel
- Yes, I know it.

So he wanted to pay
to watch these two couples...

And he had a real cock stand...

And he went...
...and then he started to shoot...

He shoved it into her mouth,
and she was going...

Hyaa! Hyaa!

...eat my way out
like any other finger buffet.

Say, what gives?

I'd like to say I'd heard worse,
Mr Rich,

but that would be a bold-faced lie.

I think I can help with this.
Do as I do.

- Still feel depressed, Mr Rich?
- No. I feel great.

Excellent!

Ah, Wormwood. The refreshments
have arrived! Fine choice.

- Thank you, sir.
- Now, Mr Rich,

you said you wanted to
dash off to eat a pie.

Could I not tempt you with one of mine?

You know, I think I'll try
one of yours, if that's cool

- Hello, darling.
- Get stuck in.

I'm as stiff as a board,
so let's go upstairs.

I'm from the future,
but I still like boobies.

Fuck, yeah.

Welcome to lesson one.

Try and think of a piece of good music
that doesn't feature the guitar.

I bet you can't. So you want to
learn the guitar. Why not?

Without the guitar, there would be
no pop music, dancing or magazines.

Could you imagine Eric Clapton's Layla
played on the organ?

No, neither could I.

In the first programme, I'm going to
teach you three simple chords

with which you will write a song.

Any song that gets
anywhere near the top 20

features the D major chord.

As you can see,
all of my fingers are on a string.

The second most important chord
for the hit parade

is C major neutral

Heaven help us.
Praise be!

As you can see,

all of the correct fingers are
on the correct string.

Now, the last chord,
but by no means least,

is the G major neutral zero.

So if we play those three major chords
we learnt in sequence,

we should hear a song coming together.

Wow, this song kicks raw ass.
Well, here we are.

Thanks. I had a really good time.

Never been to a hanging before.

Yeah, you were pretty cool
You only threw up once.

Listen, I know this is
kind of a rough neighbourhood,

so I'll wait here and make sure
you get inside safely.

Thanks. You're a real gentleman.

Call me.

Take care. See you.

Hey!

Bye.

Okay, did you see what you did there?

You started out great
when you offered to wait for her,

but then do you remember
what happened next?

- She got attacked.
- Yeah, she got attacked,

so you should have helped her
after she got attacked.

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah. That wasn't good.

Is that one of those Scottish eggs?

Oh, yeah. There's one left.
Do you want one?

Mmm, num city. Mmm.

Oh!

Good afternoon, maggot people. Welcome
to the amazingly brutal world of art.

I'm your tour guide, Senior Master
Junior Sergeant Rex Potre.

Before we view the art,

there are a few ground rules
we're going to have to cover.

Rule number uno,
do not touch the paintings.

If I so much as hear you thinking
about touching the paintings,

and I do have this power,

it's Chung Tao to Mao, chuka-tow VC,
you're out of here.

Am I making clear talk?
I can't hear you!

Sir, yes, sir!

Good, because I do have
an explosive device strapped to my leg

and I will use it!

Rule number dos.
A lot of you maggot people are gonna see

some things that
you're not used to seeing.

I'm talking about nudies.
Yeah, that's right.

Botticeli may show a titty or two,

and Michelangelo may show
a man's wilie-dong-long-pong,

but you are not, I repeat,
you are not to titter! Capisce?

Sir, yes, sir!

Because I will not let them laugh
at you, my sweet ballerina babies.

I love you! You drive me crazy
with those little ballerina boobies.

Rule number trois. Now, there's
a standard operating procedure, or SOP,

to view the art.

I want you to look
at the painting and move.

Look at the painting and move.
Am I acting like a jerk?

- Sir, no, sir!
- Yes.

This first masterpiece is Van Gogh,
also pronounced Van Ga-ca-ca.

Two lazy guys underneath the haystack.
Good on you, Mr One Ear!

Okay, let's look
at the painting and move.

- Fucking idiot.
- Look and move!

Rich!

That guy is a prick.
You have to touch the paintings,

otherwise what's the point
of coming here?

- Yeah, ditto.
- Look, that guy's pissed his trousers.

Wow.

Le piss.

Le poo?

Le piss et Le poo.
Fashion that smells as good as it looks.

I've got it. Joan Rivers.
You even look like her.

Listen, I'm not telling you.

Besides, she's not even
a fucking singer, goddamn it.

- Joan Baez.
- Fuck.

- I really need to piss.
- So?

So can I have the keys
to your private room?

Absolutely not.

Come on, that one's out of order,
and that one scares me.

Rich, this time you can borrow the keys,
but if you ever take them

without my permission,
I shall be red with anger.

In fact, I've changed my mind.
You can't borrow them...

Where is that goddamn cheque?

Cheque, chequer, Czechoslovakia...

Ew, gross.

How to kill an American. Shit.

How to kill Rich.

How to kill an American
with Poison Darts.

The Murder of Rich... Shit nuts...

Hey, what's this?

Matt's Diary

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

- I mean, do you think Rich'll mind?
- Of course not, he's an idiot.

Anyway, we often sup from the same font.

You know, it gives him
something to talk about.

And what doesn't kill you
makes you stronger.

So this is my room.
I've got a stuffed owl and some whisky.

Take your hat off. And your boots.

No, thanks.

I rap with my baby..

How the hell did this shit
get to number one? Good God.

That's better. More my tempo.

All the leaves are brown
All the leaves are brown

And the sky is Grey
And the sky is Grey

I've been for a walk
I've been for a walk

On a winter's day
On a winter's day...

Mama Cass! Ha ha!
Well, I'll be buggered black.

- Who's Mama Cass?
- My meal ticket, that's who.

- Anyway, where were we?
- Page 71.

Ah, the congress of the pigeon.

Oh, yes, my favourite.

Oh, yes. Just the job.

- Oh, God, you're good.
- Oh, yes.

You like that?
Oh, yes, your father taught me that one.

Must get royalty cheque.

- Just out of reach. Oh, you shit.
- Oh, yes.

- Are you there yet, my dear?
- God damn it. You jerk!

I can't be in love if it's plastic

To live on my own just seems tragic

But we'll raise ourselves high
when our day comes

You thought it was gold
but it was bronze

So get me in time when our day comes

You thought it was gold
but it was bronze

Get me in time when our day comes

You thought it was gold
but it was bronze

In the Snuff Box next time...

- Guns...
- Give me my fucking diaries.

...ladies,

whisky and pleasure.

Wow, can I have olive oil on that?

So if I should die of smallpox

Put my remains in my snuff box

So if I should die of smallpox

Put my remains in my snuff box