All language subtitles for Porridge Movie

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ON RADIO:
Please tell my husband Kevin,

tell him I love him and I can't wait
for the day when he comes home.

DJ:
How long is he going to be away?

WOMAN:
About two years.

DJ:
Kevin, Harry Nilsson sings
"Without You", just for you.

Excuse me! Eh?

Can I cadge a lift? No, you see...
Beal. I've just been posted here.
Oh! A brother officer!

Of course.
It'll save me the cab fare.
Aye... well, I'd still claim for it!

Thank you.

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What's laddo in for?
Oh, it's... er,
it's better not to ask.

In my experience, if you know what
a man's done, it may prejudice you
against him. Best to start clean.

Find out what he IS,
not what he was.

What you in for, son?
Two years.
I didn't mean time. I meant offence!

None taken.

We know HIS sort! See if he's still
smiling at the end of next week!

It's bleak at this time of year,
but in the summer
there are some lovely views.

Where's the nearest town?
There isn't one!

Huh!
Got something to say?

You're as much prisoners as we are!

# Well, I can't forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving

# But I guess
that's just the way the story goes

# You always smile
But in your eyes your sorrow shows

# Yes, it shows.

# I can't live

# If living is without you

# I can't live

# I can't give any more... #

SONG CONTINUES ON RADIO

One diary; Sellotape; one return
ticket, Covent Garden to Ongar.

That's one journey you won't
be making for a while! Ring.

That's my wedding ring.

Married, at your age? Daft!

DJ ON RADIO: Ah, nice one, Harry.

Today's weather. A maximum high
of minus 2. Sleet and hail.

But that won't bring us down!

IAN DURY SINGS:
# In the deserts of Sudan,

# And the gardens of Japan

# From Milan to Yucatan

# Every woman's every man

# Hit me with your rhythm stick

# Hit me, hit me!

# Je t'adore, ich liebe dich

# Hit me, hit me, hit me

# Hit me with your rhythm stick

# Hit me slowly, hit me quick

# Hit me! #

RADIO MUSIC CONTINUES

Pick that up, Ives!

What's YOUR name?
Rudge.

Mr McKay.
Mr McKay. There are only
two rules in this prison, Rudge.

One: you do not write on the walls.

Two: you obey all the rules.
All right?

Carry on.

# It's nice to be a lunatic!

# Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

# Hit me, hit me, HIT! #

# Do you see yon screw
With his looks so vain?

# With his brand new keys
On his brand new chain?

# With a face like a ferret
And a pea for a brain?

# And his hand on his whistle
In the morning #

Is that you, Fletcher?

Is that me what, sir?

Satirical singing. "John Peel"?
Traditional, sir. Second only to
my favourite, "Scotland The Brave"!

# Come where the 'ands are clapping
Come where the toes are tapping

# Come where the Jocks
are strapping... # Fletcher! Sir.

If you want to sing, I suggest
you form a Slade Prison Glee Club!

Glee?!

Got any snout?
What if I have?

If you have, all right.
If you hadn't, I'd offer you some.
Got me own!

Fair enough.

Lennie Godber.

Ooh, Fletch? I'm late.
Read me this letter from the wife.

How do you know who it's from?
It's got her scent.

Oh, dear! Does she work
in a tarpaulin factory?

Just read it.
I'll give you the highlights.

"Dearest Bunny, Blah, blah blah,

"blah blah, blah, blah...

"blah blah, blah...
Blah what? It's just trivia.

Her mother's catarrh,
she's retiled the lav,
the canary's got haemorrhoids...

(SIGHS) She's met a welder
and she might move in with him.

All right?
Must be off, can't hang about.

We haven't got a canary!

These men are gainfully employed in
the manufacture of prison uniforms.

I'm going to open a boutique (!)
That'll do, Armstrong!

We also make metal dustbins.

Then there's the electrical shop,
maintenance, laundry and farm...

Wearing make-up again, Whittaker?
It's only rouge, Mr Mackay!
Get it off!

Anyone got any cleansing cream?

Get a lot of that, sir?

Insubordination? Poofery.

Inevitable.
We put them all in G Wing,

or as we term it, Married Quarters!

I don't understand it myself, sir.
I never did.

Don't let that show, Mr Beal.

My attitude is that each man here
is as despicable as the next one.

Very fair-minded, sir.
I like to think so.

FLETCHER YAWNS NOISILY

Afternoon, Mr Barrowclough.
Busy, Fletcher? Oh, yes, sir!
Still, I never complain.

I can't actually see
what you're supposed to be doing.

The pigs, sir, they won't eat
without my reassuring presence.
Very highly strung, pigs.

Who's he? Oh... Rudge.

Newly assigned to the farm.
How'd he work that? Pardon?

First day inside? The farm?
Is he the Guv'nor's nephew? A first
offender. Admin thought it best.

Well, we need all the help we can
get. 'Ere, lad. What? Shovel it.

Shovel what? That. Where?
From here to there. Why?

Why? If only we knew, but we don't!

'Ours not to reason why,
ours but to clean the sty.'
Wordsworth.

Yes, well, you'd better do
as Fletcher says.

This job IS a privilege, you know.
For the pigs, yeah.

I want you to set that lad
an example.

Obviously, he's been foolish
to finish up inside here.

Show him that with a bit of graft
he can make a success of life.
Success? I know about success (!)

I had a pal came to London
28 years ago

without two ha'pennies
to rub together.

He managed to scrape up the money
for a handcart and he went round
collecting old newspapers.

Know what's he worth today? What?

Nothing! And he still owes
for the handcart!

The farm. Afternoon, Mr Mackay.
Mr Barrowclough.

The farm produces a modicum of what
the prison eats. We have livestock
and allotments for the older lags.

Ah, yes.

No guided tour of Slade Prison
would be complete without meeting
Fletcher, Norman Stanley.

Afternoon, Mr Mackay, Mr Beal.
How do you know my name?

It gets round. I expect you're
already a legend on some bog walls!

Typical recidivist. Been doing
porridge most of his life.

NEVER, I repeat never,
give him the benefit of the doubt.

Oh, come on, Mr Mackay, you know
I bide me time, keep me nose clean.

I'm no bother, am I?
Long to do? Long enough.
What you in for? Got caught.

Got the picture?

What sort of pie is this?

Fruit pie.
I realise that.
I wondered what sort of fruit?

I dunno. Comes out of tin
marked 'Fruit Pie Filling'.

So we have no clue to its origins?

No, it's NOT oranges.
More like...

plum or damson.

What's the hold-up? The defrocked
dentist's having a go at the cuisine

Move!

This food has no nutritional value!
Come on, Egon Ronay, shift yourself!

That's the matter with you! No-one
exercises their right to complain!

If you don't move on, my son,

I'll exercise my right forearm
down your throat.

That'll do.

Put your complaint in writing.
Would it do any good?
No.

Hello, Len. It's the laddo's
first day, do him a favour:
give him a small portion.

All you're doing, Banyard,
is getting up other people's noses.

We have certain rights!
We don't. We're in the nick.

I suppose you think you're
entitled to something better
because you went to public school?

No, Ives, I'm used to this food,
I went to Harrow!

That's a good advert
for the public school system, eh?

It's worse for him
'cos he has had further to drop.
Professional man. Dentist.

Tragic.
Tragic?! Tragic for that woman
he had under the laughing gas!

There's no need for that, Ives.
I'm paying for my peccadilloes.

You're paying? I'll have a large one

What's a peccadillo?
It's a South African bird
that flies backwards

to stop getting sand in its eyes.

No. I know what you mean, though.

It's an animal called the armadildo!

Armadillo (!)

No, that was King Arthur's codpiece!
I think that's what I'm eating (!)

TOILET FLUSHES

Don't worry, it may never 'appen.
It HAS. I'm here, ain't I!

Now, look. Whatever you're
in here for, you did it, didn't ya?

Yeah. Yeah. If we hadn't been caught,
we'd have been Jack the Lad, eh?

But we was collared. So don't bleat!

If you can't do the time, don't do
the crime. I ain't bleating! Good!

Prison is like life, you know.

You need something to believe in
in here, so you don't go under.

You can't buck the system.

But you CAN lift the heart
with an occasional little victory.

Well, nice talkin' to you, Rudge.

Oh, one more thing.

Don't hang about here. Ambush Alley
they call this. Not a safe place.

You get 'em all in here:
transvestites, homosexuals, addicts.

When someone just sits down
and gets on with it,
it's like a breath of fresh air!

Oi!

ON RADIO: Most areas of the home
counties are affected by power cuts.

Talks between the government
and the union were broken off after
the rejection of a 14% pay increase.

Shoes all right,
Mr Grout?

OK, on your way, Jacko.

THEME TUNE FOR 'THE ARCHERS'

I don't like the look of that
new 'un, what's his name, Beal?

Put me king back, Fletch.
What are you incinerating?

It's there. It was there!

Was it? Maybe I jogged the table.
Maybe the wind blew it.

That's why they're called draughts,
you know.

Go on, put it where you like
if winning's that important to you.
I'll have it where it was thanks.

I don't mind losing
so long as it's all fair and square.

Show me a man who laughs at defeat,
I'll show you a black chiropodist
with a sense of humour (!)

Almost lock-up, Mr Beal. Then I'll
buy you a jar. I wouldn't say no.

The prison officers have a club
known as the Prison Officers' Club
in the old coke store.

It's basic but they've worked
wonders with paint, horse brasses
and imagination. Look forward to it.

Oh... sorry, Mr Mackay.
What are you up to?

Listen, Mr Mackay!
You're always up to something.

This is Ives, Mr Beal.
Horrible Ives, aren't you?

Well, if you say so, sir.

Don't be cheeky, Ives!

BELL RINGS LOUDLY

What a shame. Just when
you was poised for victory.
We'll continue this tomorrow.

IF I'm free. I shall have
to consult my social diary.

"Well, that's all I have time for.

"There's the ironing to do
before Starsky and Hutch.

"I love you
and miss your loving..."

"Arms", I think it is.
Yeah, it would be.

Then there's lots of hugs
and kisses. Nice letter.

So there's nothin' in here
about a welder or a canary?

No, I would have noticed.

'Ey! What? There weren't
no welder or a canary!

And I never thought there were,
neither!

What's he on about? Search me.

Stir crazy, perhaps.

How did that kid, Rudge,
wangle the farm? Charm (!)

Since chow, he's just sat starin'
at the wall. Well, it's his first
experience of your cottage pie!

Best not to move about after that.

He's only a kid. Listen to HER!

I remember how I felt on my first
night when that door banged shut.

Go and have a word with him.
Why? Well, you perked ME up
when I first come inside.

Godber, you was forced
upon MY cell.

It was in my interest
not to have a manic depressive
in the bottom bunk!

Suit yourself. I will, I will.

Oh, dear. You owe me darning wool.
I gave you some!
Yes, in exchange for the orange.

Tangerine. Besides, that was
to pay me for the stamp. What stamp?

For your pools.
I paid that with toothpaste!
That was for the darning wool.

I'm not going to argue with you
all night! Have you got any?

Yeah. Well, are you gonna
give me some or ain't ya? Yeah.

What? Free, gratis and for nothing?
Yeah. Cobblers!

ALL AWAY!

Let's have them away now!

RESOUNDING SLAM
OF DOORS AND LOCKS

All away!

Let's have them away!

Evening, all.
IN UNISON: Mr Mackay.

What will you have, sir?
No, no, no, my shout.

Henry?
Oh... oh, no. I-I must be off soon.
Nonsense! He'll have the same again.

Mr Beal and I will have a pint
of your finest. I'll have a dram
on the side. Purely medicinal.

Snug in here, don't you think?

Very nice.

Any suggestions,
put them to the Committee,
of which I happen to be Chairman.

The Club gives the men a chance
to unwind at the end of the day,
have a few laughs. Right, Henry?

Oh... yes. It's... invaluable
in that respect.

A welcome sight! The first today.

Here's to you, Mr Beal.
Here's to you, Mr Mackay.

What you had to say
was very instructive, sir.

Well, one does one's best to be
helpful. Very helpful. Cheers.
Bottoms up. Oh... down the hatch.

No, it's not a glamour profession.
We're underpaid, understaffed
and overlooked.

Even though every time
we walk these landings
we put our lives on the line.

If you can't stand the heat,
get out of the kitchen. The public
only hears of us adversely,

when some namby-pamby politician
takes up the case of a psychopath
who claims we treat him roughly.

What do THEY know, sir! That's why
we're a pretty tight bunch here.
Unified!

Unified in the face of criminal
hostility and public indifference.

That's why this place
is important to us.

Where the hell IS everybody?!

(SHOUTS AND LOUD MOANS)

(SHOUTS CONTINUE)

(AGONISED MOANS AND CRIES)

You awake, Fletch?

No.

It's that bloke Atkinson. Mmm.

He keeps getting these
terrible nightmares. I know, yeah.

He told the shrink
but all he's given him is aspirin.

You have to feel compassion,
don't you? Yeah.

A human soul in such torment.

(A PIERCING YELL)

Belt up, Atkinson, you noisy scrote!

Let's be having you!

Morning, Atkinson. Sleeping better?
I slept like a top till some
stupid prannit started shouting!

What's the rush, son.
You should watch where you're going.
You watch where you're standing.

What's your name?
What's it to you?

There's no problem here,
Mr Lassiter.

N-name's R-rudge. Rudge.

My name's Harry Grout.
Don't think we've had the pleasure.

These are my friends,
Samson and Delilah.

Samson got his nickname
because of the muscles.

And she got hers because of her
striking resemblance to Hedy Lamarr.

Grouty, listen to this! What?
You know Robbie Patton
who works in the laundry?

Well, his wife wanted a divorce
so she goes to a solicitor.
He says she's got to have grounds.

First, there's insanity. Robbie's
dim but he's not certifiable, is he?

Then, there's desertion. Well,
he can't go nowhere in here!

Third, cruelty. He wouldn't
hurt a fly. Fourth, adultery.

"What's adultery?" she says.
He tells her. "Got him!" she says.
"He is not the father of my child!"

Good, innit?

Thought you'd like it! Can I have
laddo? We mustn't be late for work.

Come on, lad.

"Not the father of my child!"

Very funny!

(I don't get it!)
Never mind.

Who was that fellow on the landing?
Harry Grout. He runs this nick.

Ain't that the Governor's job?
Only officially.

Next time, bow, curtsey, or lick
his boots if that's what he wants.

Thanks.

ON RADIO:
Are you ready to do the sloosh -
The Listermint Sloosh!

JINGLE PLAYS

"Are you slooshing? Do you like it?"

Grout?

Yeah?

Ah... er... shouldn't you be
at your place of work by now?

Normally I would be, Mr Barrowclough
but I'm gonna see the MO.

Oh, I'm sorry.
Nothing serious, I hope?

Never been better.

Oh... er... do you want
to go next, Mr Grout?

I mean, I-I'm in no rush.

I'm afraid you'll all
have to clear off.

I need this room for a meeting.

On your way, lads.
I don't know what this is about
but I require urgent treatment!

My boil needs lancing.
If you don't hop it,
I'll have one of my lads do it.

We haven't met.

I'm Harry Grout.
Everybody knows THAT.

Bill Oakes.

I know your form, Oaksey.
You're no second rater.

You was moved 'ere from Wakefield...

where you obviously
kept your nose clean.

Half way through a 12-stretch
for armed robbery, innit?
That's right.

A big tickle, that last job of yours.

I hope the money's
safely tucked away.
Someone's been investing it for me.

Safe as prefabs, then!
That's why I want out.

I wish to unfreeze my assets
and take off to the sun.
I can see how you would!

Obviously there'll be appropriate
recompense to your good self.
Yeah...

I like the word recompense.

I was thinking in the region...
No, let me tell you MY thinking.

Five thousand -
three before, two after.

It's only fair the lion's share's
should come upfront.

Once people take off to the sun,

they can get careless about
tidying up their affairs.

Where do you want it put?
Hastings & Thanet
Building Society, Bexhill Branch.

How long will you need?
You'll have to give me
up to three months.

Supposing you don't spring me?
Then you get your money back, Oaksey.

Mind you, I keep the interest. Nine
and a quarter per cent, tax paid.

Next.

Where have they all gone?
They all got better, Doc.

You look down in the mouth,
Mr Barrowclough.

Nothing new. Same old story.
Domestic crisis, you know.

Oh, dear.
Has Mrs Barrowclough left you?

Unhappily...

..no, Fletcher.

KNOCK ON GATE

Wait.

Morning.

# She wheels her wheelbarrow

# Through streets broad and narrow
Crying 'Cockles...' #

Ooh! He loves all that, you know!

# ...and mussels,
Alive, alive-o!' #

I told you to wait in the car!

# She wheels her wheelbarrow

# Through Wealdstone and Harrow... #

Watch out for him. He's
the mad butcher! What did he do?
Fiddled the VAT on his sausages!

Where are you going with that?
Pig swill. What? Swill for the pigs.
Pig swill.

It's Fletcher, isn't it?

Yes, sir!
Settling in all right, are you?

Never mind if I am or if I'm not.

I wouldn't leave that bike there,
sir.

When I want your advice,
I'll ask for it.

Suit yourself, sir.
But there ARE thieves in here.

Whose side you on: ours or theirs?
Neither. Mine.

It lacks something, Lotterby.

Elizabeth David recommends coriander
bay leaves and a dash of pepper.

I said a DASH, Lotterby!

Aaagh! I've cut the top
of me finger off! Aaoww!

Show me!

No! It's really bad!
Stop making such a fuss!

What's going on?

Oh, shame.

This man has had an accident, sir.

Let's see, Cooper. What happened?
Carry on, the rest of you!

I-I thought I'd cut me finger off...
but it seems it's still there... sir.

Is that your bicycle, Mr Beal?
Yes, I took the precaution
of bringing it indoors.

Into this thieves' kitchen?!
Mr Beal, was that wise?

Er... what would they want with it,
sir?

The Lord alone knows. Rob now,
think later, that's their motto!

What's on the menu today, Godber?
Creme Dubarry, sir, and curry.
Curried what? Er... meat, sir.

What meat? I don't know.
It just says 'Tinned Meat'
on the tin, like.

Ladle.

He thinks he's a curry expert
on account of where he was stationed
in the army. India? Bradford.

Very fair, Godber, very fair.

Perhaps... Perhaps just
a dash more curry powder?

Oh, right, sir. Erm...
Lotterby, curry powder.

SMASHING CROCKERY

Try a hankie, sir.

Blow! I can't breathe! The doctor...
The MO...? GET THE DOCTOR!

Hello, Len...
FLETCHER RINGS BICYCLE BELL

So you got that! It's hardly been
used. What will YOU use it for?

I dunno. Why'd you nick it?
Well, he'd got one and I hadn't!

I wonder why Mackay hasn't come
down on us like a ton of bricks?

He lost something in the kitchen,
that's why. What, pride? No. Shift
over. Why? It's in your mattress.

So if we get a search,
I get blamed! Oh, yes.
You think of everything. I try.

Have a look outside.
See if anyone's about.

OK. Shut your eyes.

Open up.

Teeth! Yeah, Jaws Three! Look...

Get off! How'd you get 'em?
Mackay sneezed 'em into the curry.

I'm not sleeping on THEM. Half a set
can't bite you! They're hot. He'll
turn the nick over looking for them!

He'll negotiate first. Bit risky.

'Nothing dentured, nothing gained!'

Fletcher!

Ives, knock before you come in here!

Who is it? Ives!

Clear off! Fletcher!
Grouty wants to see you.

ROY PLOMLEY ON RADIO: How well
do you think you could look after
yourself on this island?

WOMAN'S VOICE:
Yes, I'm a fairly. practical person.
I do my share round the house.

How's the diet going, all right?

ROY PLOMLEY:
This is the recording you've chosen.

GROUTY:
Desert Island Discs.

An ambition of mine, to be
on that programme. Nice threads,
Grouty. Yeah, feel that.

Hundred per cent cashmere. Lovely.

He's doing me one in barathea for
the warm weather. IF it comes. Yeah.

On your way, Tenk.

SWITCHES RADIO OFF

Now then. Er... yeah.
Er, if it's about the teeth...

What? Of course, you are entitled
to first refusal.

Are you referring to Mackay's
missing molars? I presume
that's why I was sent for.

Oh, no, Fletch. If you've got 'em,
that's YOUR tickle. Oh, good!

Oh, no. I wanted to talk to you
about something else.

Oh, dear. I had this notion...

of a football match.

Showbiz celebrities: come up 'ere,
give the lads a boost.
Good for morale.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Lovely, Grouty.

I know a bloke in the Smoke
who could organise it. First,
I need the Guv'nor's blessing.

The Guv'nor would do anything
for you! Yeah.

YOU suggest it, Fletch.

Why ME? Because you can be trusted
and I know you'd do it subtle.

Oh, yeah! And if anything
went wrong, it would all
come back on ME. That's right!

Don't know why I didn't think it up
myself!

I'll do it, sir, but I'm not happy
that we should kowtow
to these people.

If we do this kind of thing, isn't
there a danger of a loss of face?

Dat's noding compared
to my loss of teeth!

ON RADIO:
And the outlook for the weekend
is little change.

RADIO:
If you're thinking of going out,
my advice is 'Don't!'

What's that?
A Spitfire. Saved our skins
in the war, them and the Hurricanes.

That's what I'd like
to have been - a fighter pilot.

Up over the white cliffs of Dover,
a quick dogfight with the Luftwaffe,

then back to the mess
for bacon and eggs and a sing-song.

Er... could I have a word, Fletcher?

I'm busy, Mr Barrowclough,
do you mind!

RADIO: All these and more. See the
National Express coach advertisement

If you insist, sir.
Call it a draw, Hedley.

In private, if you don't mind.

Oh? Delicate matter.
Oh! Step in the office.

I'm here at the request of Mr Ma...
er, one of my senior colleagues.

Well, I-I think you know that...

I know that you know... what I know.

Do I? The grapevine says
you could put your hand
on what he hasn't got.

If he hasn't got it,
how could I put me hand on it?

And if he HAS, I'm not sure I want
to! Don't be obtuse, Fletcher!

We both know what we're on about!
And I want you to know,
I heartily disapprove.

Oh, so do I, sir! So do I!

But we are just the go-betweens,
here to maintain the status quo.

Unless we come to an arrangement,
they go in the auction Sunday.
Ah... yes.

My function is to ensure
that the item in question
is restored to its rightful place.

To wit, his mouth.

I think we see eye to eye.
Yeah! 'An eye for an eye
and a tooth for a mouth!'

Clear off!

I have been authorised to go up to
a fiver. The quicker, the better!

Hang it all, I would like to make
a token gesture towards bargaining!
Sorry, sir, sorry. Bargain away.

3.50? A fiver!

Done. You certainly have been!

It was a 50-50 ball
and he bottled out!

I'll have you for that.

WHISTLE

Afternoon, Mr Beal.
Afternoon, Fletcher.

Football fan, are you?
I love the game, sir.

It's good for the lads.
Teaches 'em things in life,
give an' take, fair play...

Put the boot in, E Wing!

I used to play a bit, in goal.

Yeah, I can see you as custodian.
Not much would get past you, eh,
Mr Beal?

Come on, somebody!

I WAS fairly useful. Essex
Methodist League, runners up '69.

Oh, my word, sir.

What the lads really need
is more motivation. Hm?

It's a pity someone in authority
don't get one of them showbiz teams
up here.

Show business? Yeah.
I know a bloke in the Smoke
who runs that sort of thing.

Really? Yeah.

Nice talkin' to you, Mr Beal.

Yes, on your way, Fletcher.

Another lager and lime.
Oh, my round, sir. Thirsty work, eh?

Top that up. It keeps me in trim,
though. Yes, I can see that, sir.

A lot of talent in the men but...
they lack motivation. Well, they can
hardly join a league, Mr Beal.

They can't play 'away' matches (!)

Er... I know a chap in London
who organises charity matches.
Show business, that sort of thing.

He might be willing to bring a team
up here. Show business? It'd work
wonders for morale, sir. Morale, eh?

Morale.

Morale, Mr Mackay? Could work
wonders, sir. A team from outside,
a sprinkling of celebrities.

Put Slade on the map, sir.
Local press, that kind of thing.

This idea hasn't come from
the prisoners, has it? Oh, no, no!
Off the top of my head...

Yes... well... I'll give it
some thought. Very good, sir.

It's on. I heard.
Well done, Fletch. Any time, Grouty.

Now we need someone reliable
as trainer.

Not me! I'm disenchanted with
the game. 20 years of supporting
Orient does that to a man!

I insist. Oh. In that case,
it is my privilege.

LENNIE:
Come on, Oaksey. You're flagging!

I heard Rod Stewart was coming?
Unlikely, he's a tax exile!

Who gives a monkey's,
we're getting double rations!

Come on, Oaksey! Shift yourself!

Well done, lads, well done.

Listen, early night tonight.

No creeping off down the pub,
all right?

Oh, hello, Mr Mackay.
I didn't see you there, sir.

A strange choice for trainer. Well,
it's the lads what decreed it, sir.

They took a vote, know what I mean?
I heard.

Yet you have always despised
physical activity. Not in others.

We got plenty of strength at the
back. We're not short of stoppers.

What we need now
is creative midfield flair.

How about Rudge? Revelation, eh?
Says he had a trial for Brentford,

before his trial for shoplifting.
I can believe it.

Have you... uh... Have you chosen
the final team, like? Not yet, no.

Want a bit of Kit-Kat? What? Oh, ta!

You must have a rough idea, though.
A nucleus, like.
Well, taking shape, taking shape.

Have you got any socks need darning?
Yeah, I have. Look at that.

I thought I played quite well today.
Did ya? Well, I thought so.

I scored one. That was Urquhart's
shot? It hit your ear as it went in.

No, that was a cunning deflection.
Oh, one of them, yeah?

Oh, gawd!

So... er, how d'you rate my chances,
then, Fletch? Chances? Of what?
Making the team!

Slim.

Darn your own naffin' socks!

Oaksey! You're in for armed robbery
so try and and steal the ball!

In the spirit of things, Fletcher?
Afternoon, Mr Treadaway. What are
our chances? Difficult to tell, sir.

Have you heard any more about who's
coming? They seem rather vague.

There IS talk of David "Diddy"
Hamilton and one of The Goodies.

That'll be a novelty
amongst these baddies!

Is that all? No,
but these people have commitments.
It's hard to pin them down.

Your head's going down, Godber!

Michael Parkinson wrote to us.
Is HE coming? He says that he would
have come, but he isn't.

But we have the letter on file.

Didn't you mention
that comedian chap?
What's his name - Jimmy Tarbrush?

Buck, sir. Yes, Buck Tarbrush.

Well, unhappily,
he's indisposed, sir.

Oh, dear.

Buck Tarbrush (!) We'll be lucky
to get BASIL Brush!

Sir.

(Look out. Mother Superior.)

This'll be the visitors' changing
room, Our lot will change next door.
Are we painting that, too? Oh, no!

And any valuables? To be left
in the coach. Who are these two?
Whittaker and Whalley.

I picked them
for their artistic bent.

Well, we ARE bent!
Mmm, I know.

Carry on.

Get that eyeshadow off, Whittaker!

Afterwards, we could have a little
reception in the Officers' Club.

Such an inhospitable place.
But sir, you haven't been there

since we brightened it up
with some horse brasses!

And the MO's wife donated a stag's
head! I still think they'd me more
comfortable in the Plough and Sail.

'Scuse me, I'd like to go through.
They're all engaged.

I have certain rights!
I'm desperate for a pee!

^ This is blatant intimidation!
It's time you people realised...

Hello, Fletch.

Hello, Grouty.

BANYARD:
I am going through that door and
no one's going to stop me... Aaagh!

So?

Let's hear the team, then!

Yeah... er, Ronnie Simkin
in goal. Lesser of two evils.

Tom Armstrong; Callaghan;
McLaren; Nifty Small; Mini Cooper;
young Rudge, of course...

FLETCH COUGHS
Wellings and McMillan...

Doug Hayward; Urquhart; Godber.
Subs are Bunny Warren, Adams
and Jacko in case it gets ugly.

Sounds a fairly well-balanced side.
Yeah, we've got youth, experience,
flair and brutality.

Only thing was... I didn't hear
Oaksey's name in there.

No, I think Oaksey would admit that
he is not a footballer. Yes, I am.
Well, a footballer, maybe.

But I mean, you're not as fit
as the younger lads. Yes, I AM.

Er... I was basing it on the fact

that he cannot tackle,
pass, trap or dribble!

He throws in well, mind.
He's playin'. He's not!

Yes, I AM!

Is he?

Oh, yes.

Oh, your name IS down here, Oaksey!
It's just that I've spelt it
McMillan.

Come on, Fletcher! You're late.
All right.

DOOR SLAMS SHUT

I've had it with you!

What? You've got up my goat
these last two weeks! Wrong!

I GET your goat,
I don't GET UP your goat!

I get UP your nose or ON your wick!

Just lately, you've done all three!

You never miss an edge, you!
Running around like Napoleon,
drunk with power.

I've degraded myself, darning your
socks just to make your naffing team

We've been cellies a long time now!

If you made the team automatic,
it would look like favouritism!
You had to prove yourself. I did!

I did more laps, more press-ups...
But I will NOT lace up
everyone else's boots!

You're in! Everyone's wetting
their knickers just because
of a few celebrities!

Don't you want to play, then?
What? You're in the team!
Straight up? Centre back. Oh, ta!

You're changeable, ain't ya?
Who else is in?

Armstrong, Simkin, Rudge, Oakes...?!

Look, you're in the team
so don't quibble!

Everything you say, Coach!
Who's captain? Why? I wondered
whether I was a contender.

A captain has to possess attributes
which set him aside from his team.

I've chosen Lightfingered Larry...
Urquhart? What attributes?!

Half an ounce of snout which
he's now given to me! All right?!

I must say, Mr Bainbridge,
that's very disappointing.
The thing is, that, er...

Not many of the chaps in tonight.
There never are.

It's a desperate place, is this!

The only reason I come here -
it's either this or going home.

I'm single, myself. I WAS married,
divorced now. Oh, really?

Better to have loved and lost...

than to spend
your whole ruddy life with her!

Ach!

Same again, Chalky.

That was Mr Bainbridge,
their team Captain.
We've lost David "Diddy" Hamilton.

Oh, dear.

We still have the Goodie, have we?
Well, he didn't say we hadn't.

It's been good for the prison.
They talk about little else.

And there's been a noticeable
dropping off of violence -
apart from Banyard's nose.

Yes, it was a commendable idea.

Thank you! Thank you!

Ah!

Welcome, gentlemen. Our pitch is
round the back. Shall we drive on?

Here's the netball team,
where's the flaming football team?

Which one's the Goodie?
I don't recognise any of them!

Fletcher.

This is... er... Come along...

Mr Bainbridge organised
the Showbiz XI. How do?
Actually, we're only ten.

Tony Macauley should have been here.
He's a songwriter. Do you know him?

No.

Oh.

Well... he didn't turn up. We'd best
get on. We have no floodlights,

not in the right places, anyway.

Mr Barrowclough will see you in.

Could we borrow someone?
One of your subs, Fletcher?

Yeah, but what about Mr Beal, sir?
He's as keen as mustard, he is.

Ye-e-s... I'll have a word with him.

Thanks! Thanks a lot.

Forgive me, sir,
but who the hell ARE they?

We understood there'd be
a sprinkling of celebrities!
Chap with red hair?

Does the weather on Anglia TV.

A pair of scriptwriters
for somebody quite famous!

And Mr Bainbridge was in pantomime
at the Alhambra... Swansea!

Oh, I'll tell the lads.
They'll be right chuffed (!)

Who are they, Fletch? A weatherman,
eight small parts and Widow Twanky!
Now, get changed.

(ALL GROAN AND MUTTER COMPLAINTS)

Excuse me. Is there a garage nearby?
I've got to top up the bus. The lads
won't want to stop on the way back.

Half a mile down the road, in
the village, Esso station. Just...

Good. I'll nip down later.

Right! I'd better get changed.

ON TANNOY:
...will commence in FIVE minutes.
Autograph hunting is not permitted.

You all right, Oaksey?
Yeah, yeah. I'm all right.

Right, lads, pay attention!
I know you're all disappointed
that they're nobodies.

But the fact remains, they did come
all this way to give us a game. So,
let's GIVE 'em a game and show 'em!

No rough stuff! What about Mr Beal?
Oh, you can kick HIM
to kingdom come! But be subtle.

Oh, never mind. Go on, off you go!
Don't forget what I've taught you!

Don't let them panic you
into playing football!

SPECTATORS CHEER

I don't recognise ANY of them!

LOUD CHEERS AND APPLAUSE

CHEERING CONTINUES

What am I doing benched
with that pillock Oakes on the park?

You'll get on, son!
'Ere, have a snort of liniment!

Let's have a good clean contest!
It's not a boxing match!
That's what I'm anxious to prevent.

Call!
Heads.

Right then. We'll stay as we are.
Urquhart?

Afternoon, Mr Treadaway.
Fletcher. How's it going? It's hard
to tell ten seconds into the game.

Good dog. All right, dog. Good dog.

Which of them's the Goodie?
He didn't come but a weatherman did!
He says it'll rain.

Oh, well played, Slade!
Er... who is that? Armstrong, sir.
Class player, he is.

Yes, he's out next month.
Pity, for our next fixture.
Yeah, he'll be right choked.

More games on the agenda, sir?
If this one goes
without a hitch.

Good for morale.
What's that noise?

Just your dog peeing
against my bucket.

Bad dog! COME ON, Oaksey! Move!

Are you blind?
That came off HIM!

Oh...
I never touched it!

I think it's a message in semaphore!

I happen to be honest!
Are you saying I'm not?
That's why you're HERE!

Yes, that's it. Look:
'Sink the Bismarck'!

HANDEL'S "MESSIAH" ON RADIO

Yes, Ives?
Oh... er...

Just to let you know, Mr Grout,
Slade 1 - Showbiz XI 0.

Really (?)

Callaghan takes a free kick.
Rudge volleys, hits Godber's cheek
and bang! Straight in! No chance!

You did ask to be kept informed,
Mr Grout.

Better get off out there, then.

Have you been bribed, Simkin?
No, I haven't!
Show an example, Fletcher!

I saw that! What?

I'm going to book you!
What's your name, Cooper?

Cooper!

Ooh, Jesus!

Cooper?

Oh, God.

Where does it hurt? My ribs... aagh!
Just there. Hurts there, Mr Mackay.

Er... is there somewhere
I can take a leak?
Try the changing room.

WHISTLE

BOOS & JEERS

All right?
I don't know yet!

Oh, gawd, I've only just sat down!

I hope it's nothing trivial,
I might get a game!

What is it, Oaksey?
Cartilage. I've had it before.

Get him off. Come on.

OK, Mac, set 'em alight!

I never touched him.
I know, mate. Don't worry.

Careful.

I'd best fetch the MO.
No! You're in pain, ain't ya?

He knows naff all
about orthopaedics.
I'll have the early bath.

Come on, Fletch.
The lads need your strategy.
All right, son.

WHISTLE

CHEERS & APPLAUSE

Our ball! Corner kick! Come on!

Where are they?

How many fingers am I holding up,
Godber?

You can't fool me, sir! Er... five!

The lad's concussed. Someone go down
to the Plough and Sail for the MO.

I'll go! Don't be daft!

Right, let's get on! Corner!

It's a goal kick!
Any more of that, Urquhart,
and I'll have you for dissension.

Not too tight?
No, it's all right.

'Ere, don't forget the specs!
Oh, yeah.

Get on the pitch, Jacko!
Let Warren go on!
I want your strength upfront!

LENNIE: Corner!
All right, Len, get in here.

Sit down. I'll get water
to bathe your face.

No, you won't, Fletcher.

Oh, gawd! Look, we've seen nothin',
have we, Len? Seen what?
I don't want nothing to do with this

Are you going to pretend
you didn't notice HIM?!

Notice what?
Take them with you!

You've got no choice, have you?

Oaksey, I'm not going anywhere!
You'll do as you're told.

Oh, bleedin' hell!

In. In! Come on, Godber.

It's our ball, Mr Mackay. Corner!

He don't know nothin'. Got amnesia!

Come on! Get on with it.

Shift!

Yeah, all right. All right.

Right, in!
You're joking, Oaksey!
I'm warning you! Get IN!

C'mon, Slade! Take no prisoners!

WHISTLE

Hold it, driver!

Penalty being taken.

Go left!

Out you go! Mr Cox, open the gates!

ON RADIO:
# Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! #

# Hallelujah! #

Everything all right?
Who's the bird?
My sister-in-law.

A couple touring looks more natural.

THIS time of year? Hang on a minute.
Don't say you brought a suitcase?!

Don't be so stupid!
Come on, Fletcher.

I wasn't told about this!
Come on!

I wasn't told about this!
Who are THEY?
Don't look at ME!

Fletch, a woman!
All right. Get in there.

ENGINE STARTS

HALF-TIME WHISTLE

What's the hurry?
I'm dying for a Jimmy Riddle!

Hop it, Simkins!

Don't look at me, lads,
there's 11 in the team!
Only one of us
let the ball through his legs.

Where's Fletch?
It's not like Fletch
to miss his orange.

Your chaps were unlucky
not to equalise!

Not MY chaps. I'm impartial.

Young Budge played well.
Rudge, sir.
That's what I said.

Any word on the walking wounded?

Mr Mackay... Just a moment, Henry.

But... I'm talking to the Governor,
Mr Barrowclough!

But... there's something
I think you ought to know.

Cheer up, Fletch! I've done you
a favour, son. We're free and clear!

You think they haven't
blocked the roads?

We're going North, to Scotland.
They'll never figure on that, eh?
Not on Dumfries.

Dumfries.
Queen o' the South, their team.

Scottish League Division B, as was.
Dumfries 0 - Hamilton Academicals 1.

Is he all right?
He banged his head on the post.

At least he's oblivious
to this fiasco! St Johnstone 2,
Stenhousemuir O. Leave it out.

What do you mean, fiasco?
Sweet as a nut, this!

You may have good reason for doing
this but I've got under a year to go
and the lad even less!

I haven't got the money for plastic
surgery and a ticket to Acapulco.

I do not relish winter in Dumfries!

I'm upset you feel that way.
Yeah (?) But I had to bring you.

You don't have to bring us further.
Dump us right here!

You know about Dumfries.
I don't know nothin'.
It's still them and us, remember?

On your way, then.
Yeah, see you, Oaksey.

I hope NOT!

We're out!? Yeah, I know, son.

Come on.

Yes, yes... I'll wait.

Ah! Everything's in hand, sir.
They won't get far. Checks on
all major roads south and east.

The local police are looking for
the coach and our men are helping.

And I'M ringing the Home Office. Oh.

Oh, indeed, Mr Mackay!
This match was YOUR suggestion!

Mine, sir? Oh, no, sir!
No, no, let us be fair.
The idea came from Mr Beal.

Did it?

Sorry, but without the coach,
how can I get my chaps back London?

Er... Oh, hello?

Would you mind, sir?

Treadaway, Slade.

COCK CROWS & DOG BARKS

All right, Len? I think so.
Good, 'cos we need clear heads
to get out of this mess!

'Ere, stick some of these
in your pockets.

What for? Sustenance, son. We might
be out all night in this, you know!

He's really dropped us in it!

It weren't our fault. Wasn't us who
went over the wall. The screws don't
know that! They'll have a conflab.

'The match was Fletcher's idea.'
They'll put two and two together
and make three. Three? Three years.

We can't let 'em catch us.
Let's give ourselves up to the law.

They wouldn't let us get a word in.
Some local bobby won't want to
miss the chance of capturing us!

A commendation!
Another notch on his truncheon!

What are we going to do? Actually,
I've got the perfect solution. What?

We're going to break back in.

Yeah, I know, I know (!) Come on.

Hey, why don't we nick a chicken?
On a Wednesday afternoon?! Where'd
we get sage and onion stuffing?

COW MOOS

DOG BARKS

^ Oi! Come back here!

POLICE SIREN

PRISONERS SING:
# Nymphs and shepherds gone away
Gone away! #

QUIET!

QUIET!

# Gone, gone, gone, gone away! #

Hey, Fletch? What? How d'you know
we're going the right way?

By the sun(!)

ORGAN MUSIC

Excuse me! Can YOU tell me what's
going on? We'll miss our train
if we don't leave soon.

Oh... the police want statements
from all of you.

This whole job could have been
worked out in advance.

If we'd brought the Goodies, would
you have held them for questioning?
Probably not.

But of course, you didn't, did you?

Oh, dear. I told you
it would be dodgy!

Come on, don't flag!

Jab! Jab!

It's the big one next week, sir!

HORSE NEIGHS

Who was that?
Couple of escaped convicts.
Oh.

Fletch, leave the bell alone!
I s'pose you're right.

Old habits die hard.

Might as well give this back
an' all.

You just won't admit it.

We're lost!

There's gonna be a frost tonight.
All right for some of us. Some of us
have long trousers! Shh! What is it?

I heard something.

BREAKS TWIG LOUDLY

Thank you, Hiawatha (!)

Hiawatha didn't wear football boots,
did she? He! (Sssh! Get down!)

What is it?

Cops.

Copse? Like a wooded glade? Yeah.

A wooded glade
crawling with bleedin' cops!

Mackay, Slade Prison.
Any developments? No.
They're long gone by now.

Checked for tyre tracks
of a getaway vehicle?
We never thought of that (!)

I didn't mean... If you did
your job, they wouldn't be out!

This is NOT an everyday occurrence!

You expect the odd one to tunnel out
or go over the wall...

But THREE of them?
Driving out... in a bus?!

All right, lads, we're through here
What about the coach?

It's all yours.
We're finished with it.

HONK

Mr Collinson, return to the prison.
I will drive the coach
with Mr Miller.

Er... are you sure
you can drive this thing, sir?

This?!

No bother at all!

Right, come on.

ENGINE STALLS

Clutch!

Straight back as you are.

That's it. Come on.

Keep coming, Mr Mackay. Come on!

Bit more.

All right, you're clear there!

Mr Mackay! Yes, me, laddie!
If you'd been awake earlier,
this would never have happened! Sir!

It's cold. If they're in the open,
it'll freeze their brass monkeys off.

I hope so, Mr Miller. I HOPE so!

(It's just like the wooden horse!)

(What wooden horse?)

The Greeks and the Trojans.
That's how the Greeks got into Troy.

Save the history lesson till we
get back to our flowery dell. How?

Have I ever let you down? No.

Well, I might now.

Come on.

(Ssh. Freeze!)
I'm freezin' already!

What's this? C'mon, give us a hand.

(Come on.)

(Oww!)

But it's half-past eight.
The club should be open!

Under the circumstances,
I thought nobody would be here.

In the circumstances, I need
a drink more than most evenings!

Mr Barrowclough? Something to keep
out the cold. Yes, it's bitter out.

It's bitter IN (!)
Make those two large ones.

You know, I'm surprised
at Fletcher and Godber going over.

Surprised and disappointed. You
will never learn, Mr Barrowclough.

You can't judge these people
by OUR standards.

They are the dregs of society!

(MOANS)

What was that? Ssh, ssh.

(MOAN)

It's coming from the store room!

^ Help...

It's locked! Of course. That's where
I keep the booze. Give me the keys!

Help!

Oh, thank God, Mr Mackay!
Saved at last!

Where are we? Who is it? Don't
worry, Len. Our ordeal is over.

(HICCUPS)

You say that Oakes forced you
down the delivery hatch?!
At gun point! He had to, sir.

To stop us blowing the whistle
on him. We'd have seen Mr Mackay -
who had the whistle at the time!

It's no laughing matter! The man's
been drinking, sir! I had to, sir.
It was perishing down there!

The audacity! Prisoners
in a Prison Officers' Club!
A shrewd move on Oakes's part.

I don't follow you.

He knew it was one place
you'd never find a prison officer.

There'll be a few red faces in
the Governor's office this morning!

King.

They put it out on BBC last night:
'Three prisoners escape from Slade.'

This morning they said:
'Sorry, we meant one.'

Makes 'em look
as if they can't count!

Fletcher!

Oh, Mr Grouty, sir.

There'll be something
in your Christmas stocking.
I'll look forward to that, sir.

Carry on!

What did he mean? I got him
some millet for their lovebirds.

Samson and Delilah don't eat millet!
The CAGE birds, you stupid nerk!

BELL RINGS
Oh, dear.

I don't know why you kowtow to him!
I know you don't. That's why
your nose looks like it does.

'Ere, Fletch. What?
All right, you are. Am I?

You used your head. All you got
in here. I'm learnin' that. Good.

DJ ON RADIO:
OK, today's horoscope for Taurus.

Romantic inclinations may pull you
but cool common sense will...

Everybody's been askin' me today
what really happened. Oh, yeah?

You'd be amazed
at some of the theories.

YOU'RE all right. It all adds fuel
to the Fletcher legend (!)
What's up with you?

We're here while Oakes
is Hardy Kruger! Hardy Kruger?

"The One That Got Away".

A film, starring Hardy Kruger.
Don't worry about it. Before long,
he'll be Googie Withers again!

Googie Withers?
"Within These Walls".

Maybe he got abroad. He'll hate it.
They always do. You can't sit in
the sun for the rest of your life!

Before long, he'll get homesick
for Halifax or wherever he lives.

He'll miss kippers, or custard,
wildcat strikes.

Maybe.

Look, Len, bide your time. I mean,
you'll soon be out, free and clear.

And you won't be lookin' over your
shoulder all the time, listenin'
for every creak on the stair.

Yeah. I wasn't thinkin' straight.
The fresh air must have
gone to me head. Schtum.

Evening, Mr Mackay.

I won't buy it, Fletcher.

Just as well 'cos it ain't for sale.

You know to what I am referring.

The Governor may believe your story
but the Governor does not walk
these floors.

I was in the village today.
Some peculiar reports -
sightings, even.

UFOs you mean, sir? Oh, yes.

Unidentified FLEEING Objects (!)

A boxer in shorts with his trainer.
a sexton's missing bicycle;

a farmer sees two thieves running
from his apple store. I can't prove
you were out, Fletcher,... Godber.

But mark my words!

MY day will come.

NOISILY CHOMP APPLES

# Made a wrong turn at seventeen

# Took me down a one-way street

# I should have listened to my head
And turned right round

# Instead I just followed my feet

# I thought I was headin'
in the right direction

# But it was downhill all the way

# Oh, sooner or later
The man's gonna take ya

# Turn o' the key and lock you away

# But it's gonna be all right

# It's comin' out good

# It's gonna be all right

# I'm changin' my ways
and turnin' the tide

# There's a piece of me
that no-one can take

# And it's locked up in my head

# And I've got the key
and it keeps me free inside

# Inside

# There's a piece of me
that no-one can take

# And it's locked up in my head

# And I'm feeling free inside

# I never gave you
no hard-luck stories

# Never gave you no alibis

# If your hand's in the hat

# And you pull out a ticket

# Don't mean you take the prize

# I know I was headin'
in the wrong direction

# But a man can change his ways

# Oh, sooner or later
time's gonna make you

# Count up the cost
and count up the days

# But it's gonna be all right

# It's comin' out good

# It's gonna be all right

# I'm changin' my ways
and turnin' the tide

# There's a piece of me
that no-one can take... #

# And it's locked up in my head... #

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