All language subtitles for How Not To Live Your Life s01e03 Fake Wake.eng

DON: Every night I go to sleep
next to Abby,

-the woman of my dreams.
-(SPRINGS SQUEAKING)

It's just a shame
there's a wall between us.

She's in her bed,
with her boyfriend.

Again.

Huh.

Just because
the bed's squeaking,

doesn't automatically mean
they're having sex.

(SQUEAKING CONTINUES)

It doesn't.

(SPRINGS SQUEAKING)

Ugh.

(SIGHS)

That should be me having
sexy intercourse with her.

Not her boyfriend.

(SQUEAKING INTENSIFIES)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

DON: I've often heard women
say men are bastards.

Well, I agree.

There are three men
in my life harassing me.

Hello?

(SIGHS) Oh, God.

Jesus Christ!

Hey, Don.

DON: This is the second man.

Eddie, you scared
the hell out of me.

Well,
when there was no answer, I just used my keys.

Yeah, but they're not actually
your keys, are they?

Yeah, they are.
They've got my name on them.

Look.

"Eddie Singh."

Oh, my father's
a sixteenth Indian.

DON: Actually, I'm getting
ahead of myself.

Let's go back ten minutes.

-Uh, Don, can I have a word?
-(WHISTLING)

Here's the first man, Karl.

We hate each other.

I was thinking, um,
maybe, uh... (SNIFFS)

...you and I should, um,
go out one night.

You know, for a drink?

DON: Recently, Abby keeps
forcing him to be nice to me.

I can't bear it.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm straight.

I think it's a bit insensitive
asking me out

in front of your "girlfriend".
(CHUCKLES)

I meant as friends.
(CLEARS THROAT)

It's clear you don't
really have any.

(STUTTERING) I don't?

What? Are you insane
in the mind?

Sorry, obviously hit a nerve.

But I have many,
many, many, many friends.

Did you see that
documentary last night

about the woman
with massive eyebrows?

That was brilliant,
I tell you.

Do you mind?
I'm just, uh, trying to have a pint.

-Yeah, it turned out
she had a moustache. -(ALL LAUGHING)

Listen, I'll see you
next week, yeah?

All right.

(SPEAKING IN HINDI)

You all right?

Look, I'd love to stick around
shooting the breeze all day,

but I desperately
need to wash my balls.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(SIGHS) It's like
East Croydon in here.

So, anyway, back to where
we were with Eddie.

Why do you still come here?

He turns up
every day, uninvited.

Donald, I'm not just
a carer by trade. It's in my blood.

Whoa.

Like being
a thirty-twoth Indian.

You need help.

A, remove your hands
from my thighs

before I remove them
from your arms.

And, B, I do not
need help, Eddie.

Not from you, not from anyone.

-Okay?
-Fine.

-Breakfast?
-Oh, yes, please. Yeah.

Now, um...

Oh, careful.

What? What? What is it?

It's my nan.

That's your nana?

What, you don't recognise her?
(CHUCKLES)

But she wanted to be
buried, not cremated.

Well, she's hardly
going to complain, is she?

(MIMICKING NANA'S VOICE)
"Oh, Don, I'm so cross with you for burning me."

Oh! Don, Don, Don,
Don, Don, Don!

(NORMAL VOICE) Do you know
how much funerals cost?

I'm telling you,
she must have hated me,

'cause all she
left me in her will was a string of debts.

And this lovely big house.

All right.
And this lovely big house.

Well, tell me you at least got
something nice to keep her in.

Oh, of course, yeah.

Yeah, I got her something
from Marks & Spencer's.

Oh, lovely. What?

The bag,
from Marks and Spencer's.

Are you blind?

Did you know you have to pay
to get someone burnt?

-You mean, cremated?
-Yeah.

Well, of course.
How else do you think it gets paid for?

I don't know.

-I thought it was on the NHS.
-(PHONE RINGING)

Oh.

Hello, Danbury residence.

One moment, please.
It's for you.

Really? Oh.
Oh, yeah, I live here.

Oh, now we are
out of cow's milk,

so I am going to go
and nip and get some.

-Okay?
-Yeah.

-Yes?
-IAN: Mr Danbury?

Ian Bitchman here,
your grandmother's solicitor.

DON: Which brings us
to the third and final man.

Ah, yes, Bitchman.
(SIGHS)

I hadn't heard
from you regarding

the arrangements
for her funeral.

Yeah, I was actually
just talking about that.

-I've decided
not to bother with one. -Really?

The will made some specific
requests for a funeral.

Really? Like what?

Well, for a start,
she wanted an open casket.

Ah...

Yeah, that, uh,
might be a problem.

Oh?

Well, she doesn't really
look very good.

Well, I'm sure the
funeral directors are prepared for that.

You know, they'll put
a bit of makeup on her, powder her face.

Hmm, she won't need powdering.

Hey, listen, why don't we
cremate her? Yeah?

Because she wanted
to be buried.

Look, I don't mean
to sound insensitive, but who cares?

You know, she's dead.
She's never gonna know. Yeah?

Could I remind you
that if you do not carry out her many dying wishes,

then we have the authority
to remove you from your...

Sorry, from her house.

What?

I'll be expecting
an invitation to the funeral in the next couple of days.

Thank you, Mr Danbury.

-Dickhead.
-(DIAL TONE)

(EXHALES)

(SCOFFS) You can wipe
that grin off your face.

Oh, God.

I was feeling
sorry for myself.

But I hadn't banked
on this helping me win Abby's affections.

Oh.

-Don, are you okay?
-No.

Why, what's wrong?

I've got to organise
a funeral for my nan, but I can't.

It's too much.

Oh! I'm not surprised
it's too much.

You've lost
your only relative.

Oh, you think
I mean emotionally?

Isn't that what you mean?

Yes.

(CHUCKLES)

(SOBBING)

Don, if there's anything
that I can do to make you feel better,

anything, then just ask.

Could you make me
a cup of tea?

Naked?

Would you give me
a prostate massage?

Oh!

You know what would
really cheer me up?

A massive pie.

You really wanna help?

Dump Karl.

You really wanna help?

Kill Karl.

Don.

Oh. Uh, yeah, yeah.

-I'm sure I'll think
of something. -(DOOR OPENS)

Hey, um, what's going on?

Um, now's not a very
good time, thingy.

Um, Don's a bit upset
about his nan.

Oh, yeah.

Sorry to hear
about that, old boy.

(SIGHS)

Actually, if you don't mind,

we were half way
through hugging.

You know, I've got
to be honest, Don.

I had no idea you were
such a sensitive soul.

-Hmm. It's very attractive,
isn't it? (CHUCKLING) -Oh, um.

It's all right, you don't
have to say anything in front of Craig.

It's Karl.

(SOBBING)

I really wanted Abby
to see how sensitive I am

by faking just how
sensitive I am.

And it suddenly dawned on me,
maybe hoaxing a funeral was a good idea.

I just needed help.

Your toes are very tense.

Are toes ever relaxed?

I resent putting on
a funeral for her.

You knew her,
she wasn't very nice.

Well, she was always
very nice to me.

She beat me with a shoe once.

All right, it was a slipper.

Well, actually, it was a sock.

But it really hurt.

Sometimes I'd lie
on her bed with her and we'd spoon.

What?

It's nothing, nothing.

She used to call me
names all the time.

She used to call me
names, too.

When we were spooning.

-Shut up about spooning.
-Sorry.

How am I meant
to give her an open casket?

I mean, she's dust.

I'm going to have
to use my balls

and think of a pretty
genius plan.

You get into her clothes,
climb into the coffin,

and then I'll draw her face
on your face.

You could kill
everyone she ever knew.

And then, so no one traces
the crimes back to me, take your own life.

I could glue her ashes
back together. Yeah?

And hope no-one notices
how burnt she looks.

These aren't
genius plans, Don.

My balls clearly
aren't working.

Anyway, I don't see
you helping.

Well, I didn't think
you wanted my help.

I do, Eddie.
Forget what I said this morning.

I need your help. Help me.

Think of something. Think.

Hmm. Nah.

Ooh. No.

That could... Nah.

Eddie, think aloud.

Oh, how about this?

We go to the old people's home
where I work at weekends.

We find an old lady
who looks like your nana.

And then we persuade her,

using various pound coins,
to pretend to be her.

That's actually not bad.

Clever balls.

Although, you're
absolutely certain

you don't want
to kill everyone, and then yourself?

It would be easier.
For me.

DON: So after days
of Eddie turning up,

doing stuff for me,
he finally became useful.

And so we need one of
you lot to pretend to be a dead nan.

-What?
-What?

I think we're going
to Debenhams.

DON: No, old timer.

Not Debenhams.

Dead nan!

And we will pay
whoever gets the part, five whole pounds.

BOTH: Ooh.

I thought you'd be grateful.

It's going to get you out
of this graveyard for the day.

Can you take me
to the toilet, please?

No way, Jose.

Right, who's up first?

You, you look a bit like her.

Come on, up you pop.

Quicker.

Chop, chop.

-She smells dead.
-Good.

So, do you have any
theatrical experience?

Oh, I saw Cats
in the West End.

Okay, give me five minutes
being dead. Go.

This is like the X-Factor.

If it helps, think of me
as Simon Cowell.

Only I'm not in the closet.

Oh, you're out of the closet.

-No, no, I was...
-Bisexual?

No, I was saying that I'm...

-Bi-curious?
-Right, next.

* Who let the dog out?
Who, who?

* Who let the dog out?
Who, who?

* Who let the dog out?
Who, who? *

This is hopeless.

How hard is it
to pretend to be dead?

I mean, they all look dead.

You would have thought
it'd be easy.

Hey, I really liked Teresa.

-You mean, the black woman?
-Yeah.

But she's black.

So?

This is the 21st century.

The nan character doesn't have
to be white, does she?

Of course the nan
character has to be white.

What am I talking about?

She's not a character,
she's my nan.

I didn't realise
you cared so much.

Of course I care, Eddie.

I don't want to lose
that massive free house.

(EXHALES)

-EDDIE: Hello?
-Is she dead?

If she is,
she's got the job, right?

You know, she actually looks
a lot like my nan.

I want to spoon her.

Did I get the part?

Jesus, woman.

And so endeth the audition!

-You mean?
-Edith Hampshire is my name.

My CV.

You'll see I have
30 years' experience on the boards.

-You're a diver?
-Oh, I could hardly believe it when you arrived.

The chance to act again.

To breathe life
into a new character.

Hmm, technically,
you won't be breathing life.

But, hey, I love
your enthusiasm.

Are you sure
you want to do this?

When John Nettles
and I were...

Yeah, shush your mouth now.

Just promise me
you won't let us down.

Of course!

(DOG BARKING)

* The shareef doesn't like it

* Oh, rock the Casbah

* Rock the Casbah

* Shareef doesn't like it

-Don? (CHUCKLING)
-Abigail.

You seem pretty happy.

Oh, well, I'm feeling
much more confident about the funeral.

Oh, good,
because I was worried

that you might be feeling down
and needing some company.

Oh, well, actually,
I am feeling really blue.

And I don't mean rude.

You didn't sound blue.

-But this...
-Hmm.

No, this is a, um,
heart-wrenching song for my nana.

-Yeah.
-Right. Well, I'll leave you to it.

You don't have to go.

Well, I do,
'cause Karl's here, so...

Right. (CHUCKLES)

-Bollocks!
-Sorry?

Uh...

* Bollocks is what I thought
when you died Grandma *

It's one of the lyrics.
(CHUCKLES)

Oh. By the way,
you did get a suit

sorted for tomorrow,
didn't you?

-Uh... Yeah.
-Okay.

Shit. What am I gonna wear?

Well, I think
it's extremely appropriate.

Why? Why did she have to go?

(HONKS)

Why did she have
to go? Come on.

Why did she have to go?

(BLARES)

Why did she have to go?

It's so embarrassing
when you turn up

and someone's wearing
exactly the same thing as you.

Fortunately, my nan never got
rid of my granddad's clothes.

He must've had a black suit
or something.

Ah, bingo.

So, the day
of the funeral.

I'd prepared a speech
and I'd got myself a suit.

-What you doing?
-I got some flowers.

Abby thought it would
make a nice gesture.

Don't know why
she's bothering.

She never met your nan.

(CHUCKLING)

What?

Like flowers, do you?
(CHUCKLES)

Yes, I do,
as it happens.

-Flowers are...
-A bit gay?

A, that's homophobic.

B, women like men
who know a thing or two about flowers.

Well, C, had I said
flowers are a bit gay,

therefore they should
be killed,

then maybe that would've
been homophobic.

And,
four, what's all this about women liking floral men?

It's true.

You know, they like
men in touch with their feminine side.

Yeah, I've wooed a few fillies
with flowers and cooking. -(CHUCKLES)

They like it
when you cry, too.

Convincingly.

Oh, they look lovely, Don.
Are those the ones Karl got?

No, no. No, I got these.

-Really?
-Yeah.

-Wow.
-Thanks.

-What are these?
-Uh, they're flowers.

Yes, I know that, you idiot.
What type?

Oh, right, (CHUCKLING)

These are...

Daff-a-lily-lions.

-Daffalilylions?
-Daffalilylions.

They're kind of a rare,
mongrel flower. Very expensive.

Anyway, what do you think?

-It's nice.
-Yeah?

-Mmm.
-Wait till you see this.

-Hmm.
-No, no. Haven't finished.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Ta-da!

-Possibly too much.
-Really?

-Too much?
-Yeah. (CHUCKLES)

-It's black.
-(DOORBELL RINGS)

-Ah, that'll be
my dead nan. -Okay.

-Right, uh, why don't
you go upstairs. -Yeah?

What, just go upstairs?

Yeah. Yeah, just go upstairs.

Yeah, yeah,
I'd rather be on my own when they bring her in.

-Right, well, shout me
when you're ready. -Okay.

-Come on.
-Right, show me to my dressing room.

I want lavender tea
and some scones with the raisins taken out.

Shush. Right,
go through there, old timer.

-Don.
-What?

You didn't tell me
it was going to be a fancy dress funeral.

It's not.

Right. So...

It's a black suit, isn't it?

It's my granddad's.
I thought my nan would like it.

Oh, no.

-Oh, no. This will never do.
-What's wrong?

There's a corner
digging into my flank.

Well, never mind
about your flank.

Go to sleep. Come on.

* Hushabye granny
on the tree top *

(DOORBELL RINGS)

All right.
People are starting to arrive.

Come on, quicker.

Okay. Just be dead. Be still.

-Don't let me down.
-Of course.

-When John Thaw and I...
-No time.

Okay. Who am I?

What is my motivation?

Mmm, rigour mortis?

Good.

Edith?

Edith? Edith!

I'm acting, you imbecile.

-Sorry. You're actually
pretty good, aren't you? -(DOORBELL RINGING)

John Thaw must've loved you.

Right.

I can't believe
we're doing this.

I couldn't believe
we were doing this.

But how hard can it be
to fake a wake?

Thank you all for coming.

Apologies for
the lack of church,

vicar forward-stroke priest.

Whoever knows
which is which, hey?

The lack of hymns
and graveyard or...

Coffin.

What is that if it isn't
a coffin, Mr Bitchman?

Cardboard box?

That is a
biodegradable coffin.

But we can't even
see her face clearly.

Now, she did request...

(MIMICKING IAN BITCHMAN)
She did request. She did request.

(NORMAL VOICE) You're not
at work now, Mr Bitchman.

Have some consideration
for these mourners.

Right, as for talk
of the baby Lord Jesus,

or him up there,
or The Bible.

(MIMICKING YAWNING)

Won't be doing that,
it's not one of those...

Who actually buys into
all that hocus-pocus anyway? (CHUCKLING)

Your grandmother did.
She was very religious.

Yeah, well,
with all due respect,

today isn't all
about her, is it?

Right.

Some words
about the deceased.

When I think of my nan,

I think of her...

I think of her...

(CLICKING TONGUE)

Hmm...

What's wrong with him?

So, would anyone else
like to say something about my nana?

Ah, yes. Treacher.

Uh-ah.
No, you say it sat down.

I knew Elsie
for almost 20 years.

She was like
a sister to me, she was.

-(BREAKER TRIPS)
-Oh.

ALL: Oh...

This is ridiculous.

Your gran will be
spinning in her grave.

Uh, no, she won't.

-She hasn't been buried yet.
-KARL: Right, that's it.

-I'm going.
-Karl?

No, I'm going to put money
on this stupid key thingy.

Yeah. Yeah, good idea, Kelly.

I mean, I would
do it myself,

but I've got
all this going on.

I'll be back shortly.

-There we go.
-(DOOR CLOSES)

It's nice, isn't it?
Yeah?

Romantic.

This is meant to be a funeral.
Not a date.

Well, there's nothing wrong
with sexing it up a little.

Uh, you're so conventional,
aren't you?

Take the blinkers off, man.

So? What now?

Why don't you
play us your song?

-Uh, song?
-Yeah.

The one you were working on
last night, for your nana.

Oh, that. (CHUCKLES)

Mmm, I don't think
that's appropriate.

Of course it is.
You wrote it for your nana.

But the guitar...

I just don't
think I'll be able to find it in the dark, you know.

Here.

Hmm. Thanks, Eddie.

You're sure
you wanna hear it?

Yeah.

(CLEARS THROAT) Right.

Um...

* Bollocks, Grandma's dead

* Bollocks, Elsie's
kicked the bucket, yeah

* Bollocks, bollocks

* Bollocks, yeah

* Even though
you used to hit me with a shoe

* Might have been a slipper
Might have been a sock

* Still putting on
a funeral for you

* So that must make me

* A nice, sensitive,
caring guy

* I certainly deserve
to live in this house *

Thank you.

-(APPLAUSE)
-Thanks.

You can find that on my
MySpace page as of tonight.

Hey.
Guess who's got the power?

TREACHER: Well done, Kelly.

Well, it's had its ups
and downs, and bumps.

But I think it's been
a pretty radical wake.

Oh, there we go.

(SCREAMING)

(GASPING)

Nan?

Is it not finished?

Oh, darling, I'm sorry.

When I saw the blackout,

I thought that was
the end of the play.

It's not looking very good
is it, Mr Danbury?

* Bollocks, bollocks,
bollocks *

I'll be honest.
I really didn't think it went that bad.

Mr Bitchman did though,
and he was threatening to get me evicted.

You did your best.

Oh, thanks, Eddie.

I was talking to Edith.

Don, please can I have a word?

Mr Bitchman has said
that he will consider not repossessing the house.

-Really?
-This lovely lady tells me

you've actually taken
your grandmother's death very badly.

He keeps wearing
her dressing gown.

No, no that's just
because I can't afford

the emotional repercussions of
completely letting go.

(SOBS) I miss her so bad.

Oh, why?
Why did you have to go?

I'll think about it.

Thank you so much,
Mr Bitchman.

Ah, well, I'd better go.

-It's nice to have
met you, Abby. -And you, too.

-Thanks.
-Um, Don.

-Mmm?
-You are all right, aren't you?

Yeah, great. It's all sorted.

I mean, mentally?

Yeah, of course.

Okay. Well, listen,
if you ever want to have a chat

-or someone to go out
for a drink with... -Yeah?

...then just ask Karl,
because he really won't mind.

All right.

Yeah. Sure thing.

(CHUCKLE)

Okay.

DON: I might have just about
kept hold of the house,

but I was a million miles away
from having Abby.

Do you wanna join in?

We could throon.

Throon?

It's when three people spoon.

I call it throoning.

Hmm. Yeah, all right.

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