All language subtitles for Plebs 5x08 - The Wedding (English)

Hey, I think you have my parcel

cos I've got another "Sorry we missed you"
note from the postman.

Yeah, here it is.
Came this morning.

Great, thanks. I'm hoping they're
the scented candles for the toilet.

That's the third one this week.

I'm beginning to feel like
your own personal depot.

It's the lazy bloody postman.
He refuses to come down our stairs.

Much like your customers, then.

At least it gives us an excuse
to see each other, eh?

Perfect. Cos handing over bath supplies
is all I look for in a relationship.

I know, I'm sorry.
I've been really busy with work.

I will try to be more romantic from now on.
Oh, hang on.

- I don't want a toilet candle.
- You haven't even seen them yet.

Bloody packaging!

- Yeah, definitely don't want one.
- What?

Sync and corrections: minouhse
www.addic7ed.com

Scented candles have arrived.

There's post for you too, Jase.

What scent of candle did you go for?
Lavender? Bergamot?

They are for the toilets,
so I went for one called "Heavy Duty".

Oh, sweet!
It's a Save The Date.

The date?
What's it need saving from?

It's an annoying fad. People warn you about
their precious event so far in advance

- you can never wriggle out of it.
- I don't want to wriggle out of it,

- cos it's my brother's wedding!
- Congratulations on the wedding.

And also on having a brother.

Yes, quite.
What brother is this?

Darius. Daz.
Dazza.

The Razzle Dazzle!

- I must have mentioned Darius?
- Never.

- Not once.
- He's been in Sicily for a while.

But he's back now and he's getting
hitched to Phoebe on 14th June, venue TBC.

"TBC"? Where's that, then?
The Big Cave?

TBC is To Be Confirmed, you div.

It means... Oh, hang on.
It means they don't have a venue yet.

They should totally have the wedding here.

- Aw, cheers, Marcus, that's well generous.
- Not for free, though.

This is a huge opportunity for us.

We're talking food, drinks, venue hire.
All at 25% mark-up.

Okay, slightly less generous.

Well, at least get Dazza
to have a look at it.

I've changed my mind,
Save The Dates are bloody ideal.

I haven't seen Daz for ages.
We've got so much catching up to do.

Okay, well, you'll have to do it quickly

because I need to pitch the shit
out of this bar.

And I'll chip in with some of my
top wedding-y ideas as and when.

For instance, see how you like this,
super-sized finger food.

Is that not just the same
as regular-sized normal food?

It is, yeah.
But I've got tons more ideas in my locker.

Then let's keep them there,
locked away where they belong.

I've got this covered, thank you, Grumio.

- Baby bro!
- Oi-oi, the Daz Man!

Hi, welcome.

So, this is our wine bar-cum-fully
integrated function venue.

It used to be a toilet.

Not that you can tell.
One can really make the space one's own.

So have you done many weddings, then?

- Yeah, yeah, loads.
- Gutted.

She wants to do something
no-one's ever done before.

- Don't get married, then.
- Classic.

I want my mates to think,
"Fuck me, this absolutely shits on my bash."

Do you know what I mean?

- What a lovely ambition.
- So what do you think, Daz?

Yeah, yeah.
I've got used to the smell now.

Babes?

I don't know. It's dead gloomy.
Says more funeral than wedding to me.

- It will be for Dazza.
- Classic again.

Well, you'll be such a radiant bride,

you'll light up the place
with your glowing aura.

Yeah, maybe let's think about it.

- Sure thing, doll.
- I'm gonna have to step in here, I'm sorry.

Phoebe, love, you want summat fresh
and summat funky

and we can absolutely do that,

but you don't want to fight the gloom.
You want to embrace it.

- I want to embrace the gloom?
- Big time.

Don't think of this as a dingy toilet.

Think of it as an enchanted grotto.

And this one's full of shit.
We've not done a wedding here before,

but we'll bust a gut for you.

We'll give you such a banging wedding
that your friends will be physically sick.

I like the sound of that!

So are you the wedding planner?

That's really up to Marcus.

If that's what you'd like.

I never thought I'd say this, Grumio, but
well done for being so good with the bride.

- You're welcome.
- Oi, it weren't just him!

And well done to you too, Jason,
for being so related to the groom.

No worries. I think he might
even go through with this one.

Hang on. "This one"?
There have been other ones?

Three.
That's why he's been out of town.

He had to lie low after he ran out on Bianca.
Or was it Dora?

And you didn't think to mention
that the groom's a serial jilter?

I told you his nickname, Marry-us Darius.

No, you told us about 40 other nicknames,

none of which
had any bearing on our business.

It'll be fine.
He looks like he's ready to settle down now.

Your mail, madam.

Mr Postman.

- Hermes.
- Yes, mate?

I'm Marcus from The Crown And Toga.

You won't recognise me
cos you never hand me my parcels.

Maybe that's because you're never in.

No, no.
I am always in.

You would see that
if you came down the stairs.

We're not meant to do stairs, though.
We knock and you come up.

But I can't hear you
because I am down the stairs.

I left the parcel with your neighbour,
so what's the issue?

The issue is that my neighbour
is also my sort-of girlfriend,

and all this parcel passing is putting
a real strain on our relationship.

Okay, I'm sorry about that.

See, I don't think you are.

I don't think you're sorry
in the "sorry we missed you" notes either.

They're pre-written, so...

Just come down the stairs next time, please?

Okay, sure thing, mate.

- I mean, he won't, will?
- No. No chance.

May I start by congratulating you both
on your engagement?

- He thinks you're the groom, Grumio!
- No, no, no.

I'm far more important than that,
I'm the wedding planner.

My sincerest apologies.

And I'm planning on planning
the wedding of the year.

It's gotta be outrageous.
But not daft.

Think wacky, but not tacky,
if you know what I mean.

I understand completely.
Well, if it's outrageous you're after,

this range of napkins

features a rather daring stripe
across the edge.

Listen, lad,
we're tearing up the rulebook here,

so your stripy napkins aren't gonna cut it.

We want flora, we want fauna,

- we want a great big fuck-off wedding cake.
- That is our speciality.

We could always arrange a tasting
if you like?

Mm, now he's talking sense.

Looks like I might need
that napkin after all.

I was thinking of something like this
as the bride walks down the aisle.

Maybe even with a choral element.

No, fuck no!
No squeaky singing.

Your post and four bottles of plonk,
please, Aurelius.

- Hang on, what do you need them for?
- I'm taking Razzle Dazzle out.

- This is for the pre-lash at ours.
- Four bottles?!

- And that's not even the main lash?
- Yeah. Better make it eight.

No, as in we cannot have
Razzle Dazzle going out on the piss

- and spaffing up another wedding.
- Relax, nothing's gonna happen.

He's just having a last hurrah.

Right. Doesn't "last hurrah" usually
mean sleeping with someone else?

Not necessarilly.

- Pretty sure it does, actually.
- And given his track record,

would it not just be one more hurrah
in a long series of hurrahs?

Let's not call it a hurrah, then.
Let's call it a small wahoo.

Why have we got a bill
from the Emporium for two grand?

I know, and that's just the flora.

The fauna's having to come from
a different specialist supplier.

Please don't say landlord.

He were the only one who could source the
enchanted beasts for the grotto, mate.

And he's conducting the ceremony,
all for a mere three grand.

And did Phoebe lay down a deposit,
by any chance?

- She did use the bogs at the Emporium, yes.
- No, money!

Did she give you money up front as security?

No, but her dad's a fish paste tycoon
or summat, so he'll be stinking rich.

And stinking generally.

And me and Phoebs are bezzies,
so that's all the security you need.

Okay. There'll be no hurrahs,
wahoos, or even yippees.

No booze, no women, in fact, no going out.

Nothing that can in any way
jeopardise this wedding.

"Sorry we missed you" again!
That lazy bastard postman twat!

- Just give me two bottles.
- No, do not give him anything.

Salve, Gloria.
Surprise!

Thank you.
They are amazing.

What?
You haven't even seen them yet.

Yeah, I have.
They were delivered this afternoon.

- Barney signed for them while I was out.
- Ah, wow...

This is like a creepy stalker amount
of flowers.

This must have cost a shit-load.

A couple of shit-loads to be fair.

Oh, my Jove.
Not more?

Yep.
Just a few more.

To really fill in the gaps...

You are a nutcase.

A romantic one, but a nutcase all the same.

You what? What do you mean
we're not going to Boob Alley?

- Is this a wind-up?
- No.

I thought I'd take you
somewhere even better,

on a trip down memory lane.

Where's that?
That sounds shit?

No, it's not a place, it's our past.

In a shoebox. Mum gave it to me
when she was having a clear out.

A shoebox?
Is there even any booze in there?

No, it's more like letters
and school reports.

- I want to go out!
- No, Daz, you can't, please.

Not this time.
I'm sorry.

Just give the box a chance, for me.

Skanky Bear!

Look, Daz, it's Skanky Bear!

"But Darius's ability to learn
algebra will be much improved"

"if he wasn't always trying
to take his top off in lessons."

These abs will not be contained!

Look at this, my jacks!

We used to stay up
all night playing with these.

This was a great idea, bro.

"My darling Darius..."

Oh, here we go!
This is the good stuff. Who's Mel?

Melissa Russo.
My first ever girlfriend.

Yeah, I remember.
With the bunches!

"When you nicked one of my chips
at lunch, my heart exploded."

Melissa Russo.
Haven't thought about her for yonks.

Look! It's the wonky cup you made.
You gave this to Mum for her birthday.

- Daz.
- Hang on a minute, bro.

This letter's quite intense.
Got any more of these?

Here you are.

I had him tucked up in bed by midnight,
sober and completely alone.

Okay, great.

Now if we just steer clear of the
tiny fusspot, we might be all right.

Where's my unicorn?
You promised me a unicorn.

Yeah, they're not as real
as I thought, sadly.

You could always glue a cone
on one of the weasels.

I'm not glueing cones on dead weasels, mate.

What fauna have we got that's alive?

The doves are alive, I reckon.

Yeah, they're alive.

And I'm still waiting on about
two grands' worth of flora.

Ah, yes.
You might be waiting a while.

You what?
Why's that?

- Because I reallocated them.
- Jove on high!

I'm trying to organise
the wedding of the year here

and you lot are shitting all over it!

Pheebs?
What are you doing here?

You're meant to be getting
a mani-pedi before the big day.

There's not gonna be a big day.
Darius called it off!

He's still in love with his ex-girlfriend!

Oh, okay.
I see what's happened here.

I guess reading letters from his ex must
have, like, triggered certain feelings.

Well, why was he reading letters
from his ex, at all?

Because they were in
this old memory box that I dug out.

I was trying to do what you said.

You know, distract him from booze and birds.

Oh, cool.
Great stuff.

Cos that worked really well, didn't it.

Steady on, I wasn't the one
pushing for him to have the wedding

in this dingy shit-hole, was I?

Hang about, mate.
Don't blame the dinge.

This were gonna be a luminous grotto
for the stoats and weasels.

Which will need paying for.
Wedding or no wedding.

This is why you get a deposit,
you luminous twat,

cos it doesn't really matter if the
bride's bezzies with the wedding planner,

if she's not all that close to the groom.

- Maybe, he's just having a wobble.
- So, stop him wobbling, then.

Sit on him.
Tie him to a tree, whatever it takes.

And, Grumio, you're taking
those flowers back to the Emporium.

I thought they'd been reallocated.

Well, there'll just have to be
re-reallocated.

Marius Darius strikes again.

Are you trying for some sort of record?

I've only got you to thank
for this one, bro.

Not exactly what I was aiming for.

You cracking open that shoebox
was like the universe's way of saying,

"Daz, you are making a huge mistake."

"You should be with Mel."

Or was it the universe's way of saying,

"That stuff's in the past, Daz,
leave it there, you stupid prick"?

What I mean is,
what do you really know about Mel?

I mean, she could be old and haggard by now.

She's not gonna have got older than me,
that wouldn't work, would it?

Yeah, but maybe she hasn't kept up
with your amazing skincare regime?

Or she could've popped out a few sprogs.

I'll just raise them as my own.
The more the merrier.

What if she just doesn't love you any more?

Well, she'll just have to say that
to my face. When I track her down.

And, I mean, is there any way
you could marry Phoebe,

then track her down? You know, just to
cover yourself, and your bro, and his bar.

Sorry, bro, me and Mel
are gonna be together forever.

I just know it.
Sixth time lucky.

What, I thought you were number four?

- There are a couple in Sicily, yeah.
- Oh, for God's sake.

I'm just gonna come clean.

Admit there was a mix-up with the flowers
and apologise profusely.

Honesty really is the best policy.

Gloria!

Is there anybody in?

So, what's the second best policy?

So, I've spoken to my manager
and I'm afraid we can't accept these.

What?
Why not?

Our returns policy doesn't allow perishables.

Ah, they might be perishable,
but they haven't perished.

These are bloody sprightly, mate.

Well, nevertheless, they can't be returned,
nor can the cake you ordered.

- We've not even received that, yet.
- Yes, but it's fully baked.

And topped with the names,
Phoebe and Darius,

so you'll be receiving another
invoice from us for 200 denarii...

200?
For a cake?!

That's 200 per tier, sir.

Oh, no.
Oh, please, God.

- How many tiers is it?
- Well, I had wanted 12,

but I had to settle on eight
for safety reasons.

On the plus side,
we do get an absolutely huge cake.

All right, bro?
Didn't expect you back.

Yeah, listen, I've got some really
big news, so you better sit down.

I'm already lying down.

So, sit up, then.

Right, so,
I was putting away that old shoebox

and I found another letter from Mel
from a year ago, when you was away.

- Mum must have slipped it in with the others.
- Well, what does it say?

"Dearest, Darius,
I've got some well dark news."

"I've only gone and caught
a bloody wasting disease."

"I've got just a few weeks to live,"

"so I'm writing to say goodbye, forever."

"You must find happiness
and marry someone else ASAP."

"Love Mel-issa."

That is dark.

I am so sorry, bro.

- Maybe she recovered?
- No way.

She only had a few weeks to live
and that was a year ago.

She's probably a skeleton by now.

Well, let's see, shall we?
Mel?!

Can you come here a sec, my brother's here.

Oh, hiya, Jason.
Sorry, I was just in the bog.

Hi, Mel, you look well.

You've not had a wasting disease,
have you, babe?

I wish!
This diet's doing F-all.

Leave it out, you're gorge.

How did you track her down so fast?

She left her address
on the envelopes, you doughnut!

The ones she wrote,
not that crap you knocked up.

Classic!

I think this time he's ready
to settle down, I'm afraid.

Right, and I can't interest them in an
enchanted grotto-themed wedding, can I?

They're moving to Spain together
for a fresh start.

It's quite sweet, actually.

Oh, how lovely.

Forgive me if I don't jump for joy,
now that we are royally fucked.

Oh, come on, it's not that bad.

Get Phoebe to pay for it, anyway.
Her dad's loaded, right?

- All right, Marcus?
- Gloria! Hey, how's it going?

Yeah, fine, thanks,
apart from being burgled earlier, that is.

What?! Burgled?
No...

Weirdly, the thieves only stole
the flowers you bought me.

- That is weird.
- Yeah, they made quite a mess.

Soil on the floor, pollen on the sofa.

In fact, it was about the least
romantic gesture I can imagine.

Oh, I'm sorry, genuinely.

But the flowers were never meant
to be the gesture.

- The little pink ones were, but...
- Do you know what, Marcus?

I'm too old and too busy

to deal with this
playground bullshit, all right?

I think we should just call it a day.

No, no, please.
Look, I know I've been useless and flaky,

but cards on the table, Gloria,
I really, really like you.

And I really want this to work.

No more games or lies, I promise.
Just give me a chance to show you

that I can be sincere, and straightforward

and very, very romantic.

Well, go on, then.

Not now, though, I've just got to squeeze
some money from a jilted bride, first.

Oh, it's pathetic, I can't stop crying.

You let it all out, love.

I can't believe it's over, Grumio.

What a bastard.
Good riddance, I say.

Oh, I'm not talking about Darius.
Who cares about him?

She means the wedding, dickhead.

My mates were gonna be fuming,

now they'll all have smug grins
on their stupid faces.

Well, I'm sure you'll bounce back, find
other ways to make your friends miserable.

Oh, thanks.

So nice of you to come round
and cheer us up, lads.

That's not the only reason
we've popped by, though, Phoebs.

There's also the small matter of these bills

for the flora and the fauna, and the cake.

- But the wedding's been cancelled.
- No, I know, and that is such a shame.

I got dumped.
Look at me, I'm a mess!

But so are we, is the thing, if we don't
get this money, our bar will go under.

Oh, well, I'm sure you'll bounce back.

Can I speak to your father about it,
perhaps?

Explain the situation, find a compromise?

I wouldn't, he doesn't do them.

Or beg?
I'm happy to beg.

Listen, lad, the only way my dad will pay,

is if he sees his daughter
walking down the aisle,

and that's not gonna happen, is it?

As your wedding planner,

I might have had one final, outrageous idea.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here
to join this man and woman

in the sacred institution of marriage.

Please place the ring on the finger
of the bride and repeat after me.

I, Marcus Phillipus Valerius Gallo.

I, Marcus Phillipus Valerius Gallo.

Take thee, Phoebe Helen Populiana.

Take thee, Phoebe Helen Populiana.

To be my lawful wedded wife.

To be my...

Lawful wedded wife.

- Lawful wedded wife.
- Lawful wedded, yes, wife.

Lovely.
Now, your turn, my darling. I...

It's okay, I learnt it.
I, Phoebe Helen Populiana,

take thee, Marcus Phillipus Valerius Gallo,

to be my lawful wedded husband.
I do!

Then, by the power vested in me,

by the honourable Guild of Roman Landlords,

I pronounce you man and wife.

Go on, give her a kiss.

- It's not what it looks like!
- I take it back, Marcus,

That was the least romantic gesture
that I can imagine.

I had no choice!
I was going to lose the bar.

It's actually quite convenient.

I was coming down to dump you.
I don't have to now you're married.

Oh, come on, we can get through this.

I've got a date tonight, anyway.

You move fast.

Who is the date with?
Out of interest.

Have you met Hermes?

What?!
Him! The bad postman!

Yeah. Thanks to all your parcels,
I've been seeing a fair bit of him.

So that's why
you never came down the stairs?

You were just trying to steal my girlfriend.

Yes and no.
We are genuinely not meant to do stairs.

Well, I hope the two of you
are very happy together.

Likewise.

Now, ladies and gents,
gather round for the cutting of the cake.

You know we're getting divorced as
soon as you're back from the honeymoon.

Fine by me.
Where are we going, by the way?

You're not going anywhere.
Me and Grumio are off to Sardinia.

Release the doves, please!

- Are those definitely doves?
- Doves, pigeons, same difference.

Fuck, one of them shat in my eye!

Let's have a bloody dance, mate!

Ah, that's ace.

Sync and corrections: minouhse
www.addic7ed.com