All language subtitles for Peep.Show.S06E01.Jeremy.At.JLB.DVDRip.XviD-HAGGiS.English

# I'm not sick, but I'm not well

# And I'm so hot

# Cos I'm in hell. #

Now, look, Hans, I want you to
be careful taking it out.

Yeah. He's a big bastard,
I'll give you that.

Maybe I can break him down,
cut him down to size.

If you want, I could get the axe.

The axe?!

Just a hand axe, Mark,
not a felling axe.

No, Hans, no axes.

I can help for a little sweetener,
a fiver?

A fee? I suppose you never really
sat on that sofa much, did you?

Maybe just for about 100,000 hours.

And I suppose you won't sit on the
new sofa much, either.

I just need money, Mark.

Yes, well, I don't want to pay you
for domestic chores.

That's why I'm abusing
my management position

to get you challenging work at JLB.

I don't need to be challenged, Mark,

I just need something to do
in the mornings. Some purpose.

I'm tired of staring
at my own winkle all day.

And careful bringing the new one in.

Chipped paintwork and abrasion to the
upholstery will result in deductions.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Terms and conditions apply.

This energy drink may cause
anal discharge etc.

JEREMY: Hasn't got a girlfriend
so he buys a new sofa.

You can't fuck a sofa, mate.
Take it from me.

This suit.

It's sapping my vibe, my powers.
I can't think right.

Yeah, well,
why don't you get another job?

You could explore that
opening at the giant beanstalk,

catching the golden eggs as they fall
from the arse of the giant's chicken.

I mean, there weren't any jobs
when I didn't want a job.

And now I do want a job,
there are like, totally no jobs.

Not just like, there aren't any jobs,
but like, there are totally,

quite literally, no jobs.

You should just get a van. With a
van, it's like you've got an MBA.

But you've also got a fucking van.

You're not just a man any more.

You are a man with a van.

You get a van, Jez,
we could be men with ven.

This is a bunch of stuff,
got left on board.

Thought you could feast on this lot.

What is it?
Sex stuff? Booze? Drug gear?

Baby shit.

What?
Why did you bring that in here?

Well, you two are on
some baby tip, ain't ya?

One of you is the father of Sophie's
Jerry Springer baby.

- We're not doing baby.
- Plenty of time for the baby later.

The baby's too big. You can't look
at it, Hans, it's like the sun.

Yeah, that's the policy.
What's in there, anyway?

Baby shit.

So small.

No, no. No, thank you.
Put it under the bed, Jeremy.

OK, yeah. It's going under there.

Right, it's under there now.
It'll be safe under there.

OK. Keys, change, wallet, phone. OK.

Jesus, you are something else.

Thank you very much.

JEREMY: He took the insult
as a complimentl

Shit,
he could become invulnerable.

I'm just going to take off my
flatmate hat

and put on my much larger,
new JLB manager's hat.

- Have you not sorted this yet?
- (PHONE BEEPS)

Hi, Colin.

Listen, could you do me a favour
and take a punt on a grunt?

Yeah, farmyard fodder, a day player.

No overheads, no holiday, no contract.
Cut and shut. A phone pig.

Ha-ha! Exactly. Cool, bro. Thanks.

A phone pig?

You're not going to lord it over me,
are you, Mark?

Of course not.

MARK: Maybe I could make him
wear a little coloured hat

like they do with chimpanzees.

A comb with a propeller on top.

I might tell him it's
a first day tradition.

JEREMY: Wow, she is one hot tamale.

Did you hear the boiler in the night?
Were you hot?

Whatever.

I sleep naked,
head out of the window,

so when I wake up
it's just me and the universe.

But how? Your bed is on
the other side of the room.

Got a system.

JEREMY: The maestro, magically
made her think of me naked.

He didn't even clock her. Tragic.

MARK: Think she spotted it.

Just... Yeah.

That's right, sweetheart.
Ergonomic management keyboard.

So this is it, Jeremy.
The field of screams.

Colin will be in in ten,
but I think this'll be your... area.

What, all of it?

- Er, yes.
- Cool.

Whoa, it's tippy!
I've got a tippy chair.

Yeah, so you'll just be following
the cold-calling script.

There's a script?
So I'll be, like, an actor?

Exactly, Jeremy.
You'll be just like an actor,

like Al Pacino or Jeremy Irons.

Just tell everyone you call,
"You've been specially selected

"as eligible for our exclusive
introductory interest rate."

Well, no, not everyone.

Because if it's exclusive, then...

Oh, my God.

It's wheels within wheels.

I've been invited inside with the
bean counters and the water boarders.

MARK: At some point he's going to
find out what goes in sausages.

MARK: Out with the artificial limb,
the salary man keyboard.

In with the Dominator,
the Death Star.

Yeah, Dobby. I'll summon her in later.

"Uh, Dobby, I seem to be
having a server problem.

"Could you have a fiddle?
I think the problem is in my pants. "

- Oh, Jeff!
- I'm busy, Mark.

Not too busy to check in with your boss.

You're not me boss, Mark.
Stop calling yourself me boss.

I'm head of a team
that contains people of your level.

I'm certainly your superior,
let's leave it at that.

I'm on your remuneration committee, so...

fingers crossed for that bonus, Jeff.

What's funnier - zero bonus or,
like, a humiliating � 103?

Both are very funny.

Hey, man, can't stop. Just to say,
it's all going super great down there.

You're not leaving.

You've got to stay until at least
five or it makes me look bad.

I've made four sales. I'm zinging.

Colin's put me the top
of the leaderboard.

I'm in line for Pizza Hut vouchers.

You're king of the farmyard?
You're in line for the free garlic bread?

- (ELECTRONIC BEEP)
- What's?

Fire alarm.

- Oh, God. Look at you.
- What?

Frightened little mouse.

It's a fire alarm, Jeremy.

Oh, yeah, right. Like there's a fire.

There's never a fire,
it just doesn't happen.

I mean, maybe in a film.

So there's never been a fire,
anywhere(?)

Not in an office in England.
God, you're pathetic.

"Ooh, fire, please don't burn me
or my possessions.

"I'm so important and flammable."

- Is this a test?
- No, not a test.

Come on, Mark.
Fucking hell, get your elbows in.

It's all gone Backdraft.

What's going on?

There's a rumour in that huddle
of third-floor Daleks that it's a test.

But the phone pigs are sure there
was a fire in the farmyard kitchen.

The maintenance man's
pulling his pud in the Portakabin.

Come on. You're management, Corrigan.
Get it sorted.

Right. Chance would be a fine thing.

MARK: That's a thing that people say,
isn't it? '

The reset code needs to be
authorised from Frankfurt -

if you can believe it.

Mark, can't you reset it?

Chance would be a fine thing, Lisa!

I know what we should do. A coffee run.

Corrigan, 200 lattes.

- (LAUGHTER)
- Good one, Jeff.

Chance would be a fine thing.

A fine thing, indeed.

Hm, saying that too often now.

Everything's under control.

We'll have it all sorted, as soon as.

Quick as.

Oh, thank God, Johnson.

The great helmsman
can march us to a grain depot

and we can bed down for the night.

Everyone! Listen.

So, listen up,
I just got in from Aberdeen.

I want to warn you
that you're probably going to be

hearing a lot of rumours,

but I can reassure you
that Steffan Strauss

and the rest in Frankfurt
are doing everything they can.

Talks are ongoing and everything
is looking promising.

But I need to inform you that
you're all officially unemployed.

ALL: What?!

Nol I've just started being a bossl

What about my Danish sofa,
what about my keyboard?

I didn't get to show
Dad a business card.

The doors are locked.

JLB Credit UK is no longer existent.

Thank you and goodnight, England.

Alan, Alan, where do management go?

- Alan, let me in! Alan!
- (TYRES SCREECH)

The last Beemer out of Saigon.

I'm at the mercy of
the Vietnamese peasants.

Please don't
put me in a bamboo cage.

Wow! So everything's just gone tits up.

I mean, how mad is that?
Headfuck or what?

Yes, Jeremy. It is indeed a headfuck.

Exactly. Pete was just saying a bunch
might go down the Crown.

The Crown?

You know,
where everyone goes on a Friday?

Oh, right. Yeah, yeah, down the Crown.

Great, one morning
and he fits in better than me.

Gone. All the lovely power.

Might as well delete my spreadsheet
of her coffee-break times.

I cannot believe this. I can't.
They've really screwed us, man.

They've screwed me.
They've diddled you, at most.

It's like JLB never existed.

Puff! Just puff!

Gone. So sad.

Ooh.

MARK: Urgh. Sophie. Alcohol.

That can't be good for our baby.

It's not our baby.
Can you stop saying that?

Ouch. Another one.

You should give her a warning look, Mark.

Let's try and give her a warning look.

Is it OK, do you think, to get involved?

I guess a bit of
one of us is on board.

The baby is a bit like
our embassy on her territory.

Let's not have a
little pisshead, Mark.

MARK: The first of many pub visits
the baby's going to ruin.

Hi. We were just wondering...

- What?
- The wine, Soph.

- I've had one small glass.
- We both know that's not true,

so let's start with the facts,
shall we, and...

Cheers, Soph.

Oh. We thought that was...

One small spritzer, half a unit,
should I have got written permission?

Written permission! Listen to her,
she's exaggerating for comic effect.

It certainly has put me
well and truly in my place.

Hey, guess what?

You love me and you
want to move to Norway?

Pete heard we're in profit.
The German outfit's the one tanking,

but Strauss is closing up
the UK to save the mother ship.

Jesus! You're kidding, is that true?

Dunno, it might be one of those
rumours you get after disasters.

Like, did you know nobody
with an Apple Mac died on 9/11?

But we can't let them...
split up the team.

I mean, you and me and,
and, you know, Lisa.

It would be a tragedy...

If I couldn't see you any more.
We've got to fight back.

Yeah!

Hear, hear. It's too beautiful
a thing to let just go puff!

OK, gotta build a JLB life raft.
Haul Dobby out of the water.

"Come aboard, shipmate. Now let's
get you out of those wet clothes. "

I was thinking,
JLB Survivors' Campaign Group.

Right, yeah. A grassroots
campaign to get justice.

Grassroots, yeah.
But with me as the chair.

Or president. President or chair.
Which do you reckon?

Doesn't matter.
We'll campaign and I'll write a blog

and I'll write to my MP
and I might go on The One Show...

And I've got an idea for
a rather savage satirical cartoon.

We could do a benefit night
and I might do a skit.

You, in a skit? In front of people?

It just think it would be fun.
I might do a skit with Dobby.

Oh, right. I get it.
Yeah, the swish of the curtain,

the smell of the greasepaint.
The rub-job in the dressing room.

Oi, oi.

3:40pm. Back home. Slightly pissed.

Guess what? We both went to work
and it was brilliant,

but then the whole company
got shut down and it was mad shit.

We're both out of a job.

Oh, well. More work for the men with ven.

Recession.
Supper time for the vanners, dude.

All these big beasts going belly up,
we're just vanning their shit out.

Might give my contact a bell.

See what bits of the JLB corpse
there are to chow down on.

Hans, please. This is hard for us.

I feel that something's
died inside, don't you, Mark?

Uh-huh.

It's such a weird day
for all of us JLBers.

I mean, the whole thing's gone.
Just... puff!

- Can you please stop doing that?
- Why? I'm really depressed.

- You're not allowed to be depressed.
- Why not?

Because you're freeloading on my trauma.
You're a grief thief.

Bollocks. I really felt
I was finding my niche.

You can't find your niche
between 9 and 11:30.

Since when did you set
the niche-finding times?

Look, the only reason you're romanticising
this job is you'll never get do it again.

Oi, oi, oi! Byatt, Drabble.

Relax. Come and have a look at this.

MARK: Jesus. Look at it.

I wonder who the Prime Minister will
be when I've finished the repayments.

An unborn Miliband?

The depression is here and my
new sofa is a white elephant.

It's a creamy elephant.

Please don't call it
the creamy elephant.

I think I'm going to be sick.

Jez, listen. If you're at a loose end,
I might need a couple of guys,

do a job, cash-in-hand.

Oh! The high quality upholstery
is like a knife in my back.

All we need is another guy.

Any guy with hands and arms and legs

who might be around to just jump in
the van and earn a few quid.

Hm. A guy...

A guy who needs a bit of
cash, a guy, a guy, a guy...

Where can we find just
a regular guy, any guy?

I'm trying to think,
but I can't think.

(MARK COUGHS)

How did this happen?
I woke up Branson,

end the day humping shit
cash-in-hand for Super Hans.

Where do I go?

You're riding bitch
on the bitch rack.

God, Hans is my boss.

Jeremy is probably my line manager.

Sorry for the delay.

While I was waiting for the food,

I actually sketched out
a potential invite

for the JLB survivors' fundraiser.

It's just a satirical sideswipe
at the corporate culture.

Star Wars? "If you stroke my down
I shall become more purrful

"than you can possibly imagine."

Yeah.

Isn't down for a duck, not a cat?

Yes, but it's got to be cat
because of "purrful."

- Does it?
- Yes.

- But, "If you stroke my down..."
- Yes.

...it's definitely got to be a duck.

You're over-analysing.
People will be laughing so hard

they won't be thinking about
what it does or doesn't mean, Jeremy.

Where's my fucking nuggets?

I've dropped about six social classes
since this morning.

And where's my onion rings?

This is, this is...

You fucked this order
right up, haven't you? Eh?

Haven't you?

Eh? Answer me!

Yes.

Right, I'm having your chicken wrap.
Jez, you can have the chips.

You... can have this
little bit of matter.

Eurghl For once in my life I've done
enough physical labour

to merit a high-carb meal

and all I'm left with is an
indeterminate puck of gristle.

Boss of the JLB survivors.
Yesl probably a lot

of organisations got started
to bag pussy for their leaders.

Charles Manson and his family,
Henry VIII and the Church of England.

I've been doing vodka shots
with the phone pigs.

It's great to see all the old faces,
isn't it?

Yes, Jeremy, I invited everyone,
even Steffan Strauss from Frankfurt,

though I doubt he'll be showing
his face, not after my cartoon.

- You saw the cartoon, Soph?
- Yeah.

- Did you like it?
- Yeah.

Oh, brilliant. What did you like about it?

It was a sort of joke, wasn't it?

Yeah, that's right, Soph, exactly.

Yeah, I'm not gonna squeeze too much
praise out of that dry old stone.

Probably went straight over her head.

- Dobbs, hey there.
- Hi, Mark.

Did you get a chance to have a
look at my speech? Was it OK?

Oh, yeah, amazing.
Martin Luther Corrigan.

And do you think I should call
head office "avaricious profit cannibals",

- or "mendacious bonus junkies"?
- Well, you're the boss, you decide.

Exactly, I'm the boss.

I am the boss again.

I'd better go, make sure Skunky Pete
knows how to crank up the volume.

- Tell him to turn it up to 11.
- (LAUGHS)

- That's a Spinal Tap joke.
- I know.

(APPLAUSE AND CHEERING)

MARK: Look at them all,
nervous now, that's natural.

This is how Frost felt before
the first That Was The Week,

or Through The Keyhole.
How do I look? Do I look all right?

- Great. You're going to be great, man.
- Thanks. I just need...

The moustache?

Yeah. I'm having a mini wobble on
the moustache. What do you think?

I just feel... I'm not trying to
associate JLB HQ with the Nazis,

that would be reductive. I just want
to hint at certain similarities

in terms of the unquestioning
approach both power structures

want their underlings to adopt.
Do you think people will get that?

Yeah.

Maybe an Erich Honecker,

a Bismarck, something
a little more tasty?

Mark, you've got to get
the shit-munchers onside.

Adolf is a guaranteed hooter.

Hitler me, Jez.

I'm becoming the F�hrer -
the F�hrer of laughs.

(GERMAN ACCENT) So, what have we here?
An ailing patient,

but one who's delivering
consistent profits, except for 2003.

What on earth happened here?

DOBBY: Barbara spunked a grand
on the Christmas do.

Should have kept line for myself.
She doesn't know who Barbara is.

So, let the surgery begin.

Bloody hell, this is greatl

I've single-handedly
re-launched the satire boom.

(LAUGHTER)

Oh, my God. They loved it!

They didn't seem to go crazy
for the outsourcing IT material.

Maybe they just spunked their wad
on the farmyard kettle shit.

I know, that was massive!

I'm drinking champagne,
I've written and directed a hit play

it's the bohemian dream.

Man, that was so funny. Some of the guys
said it could be on TV.

Oh, God,
what a ridiculous idea, that on TV!

No, not without a lot of editing.

It really is a crazy idea
at its current duration.

And Steffan Strauss made it after all.

I'm sorry?

Hello, uh, Mark.

Oh, hi, Steffan.

We got your invite and we wanted
to show everyone's appreciation

from the Frankfurt end for the UK
operation's good work over the years.

Did you see the skit?

Yes, I saw the skit.

Oh, right. Good.

I've gone too far. Permanent marker.

I'm Russell Brand. Steffan's lovely
Andrew Sachs. Has it gone?

No, and obviously there
must be a lot of anxiety

over bonus and salary issues,
but JLB is doing all it can to help.

That's great.

Maybe we can chat further when
you've taken off your costume?

I'm really sorry about the moustache.

No, no, it's fine.
It's a difficult time.

To me, Germany is Goethe
and Thomas Mann

and Boris Becker, but it's difficult
to do a Goethe moustache.

Did Goethe have a moustache,
out of interest?

I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe.

Really? That's fascinating. I'd like
to talk with you more about Goethe.

I really am no expert.

Oh, you're too modest.

Look, come and have a chat next door
when you're ready.

Oh, into the interrogation
room with the Gestapo.

Not Gestapol

Just normal German
federal or state police.

So, what did you, um?

Steffan wanted to have a chat
with you about some issues,

about your JLB survivors' group.
It doesn't look good,

some of the accusations flying around.

We don't like friction.

Their thing is... if the campaign
were to quieten down,

maybe there'd be
a few more resources for redundancy.

You might even get your bonus.

They'll give us what we want?!

No. But they can give you
what you want.

On a one-off basis, if all this
unpleasantness was to go away.

They want to stuff my mouth
with gold. Lovely, chewy gold.

I could pay-off the sofa,
I could buy the matching chair.

I told Steffan you might not
have the arsehole for this, Mark.

You need a brass ringpiece to handle this.

The question is,
can you put a lid on the squid?

DOBBY: Listen up, mofos,

cos it's the right honourable
Mr Mark Corrigan.

(CHEERING)

MAN: Speak for England, Arthur.

MARK: Oh, that's good,
he must have Googled that.

Heil, Mark.

(HE MOUTHS)

Thank you, thank you, and it's great
that you could all come today.

It's been a great afternoon
and we've had a lot of laughs,

and I'd just like to say
about the JLB survivors' group,

and the final salary payout battle,

well, it's been a week now
and I think the time has come

for us to stand up and say,
"We tried, we failed and we're moving on."

- (THEY MURMUR)
- What do you mean?

Look, JLB is a big multinational
and it's served us all

a great big shit sandwich,
but what we've got to do

is we've just got to eat it down.

So let's go forward,
conserve our energy,

let bygones be bygones, turn the music up
and have a great time!

Over to you, Mr DJ!

MARK: Oh, great(l) The chopper's
leaving Saigon without me again.

Just get to the buffet -
the safety of the buffet.

If I can stuff my mouth with
enough salami, I won't be able to answer

any difficult questions.
- What the hell was that?

Yeah, great party.
Have you tried the baba ghanoush?

- What about our money?
- When are we gonna get our money?

You worked at JLB
for less than three hours.

I'll give you your bloody money!

There's your money! �14.50!
Are you happy now?

A bit, yes.

Did they nobble you, Mark,
in the back room?

Are you kidding?! I kicked off!

I really want to hurt those bastards!
I think the cartoon rocked them.

Let me have a think
about another savage pun.

Oh, bollocks, Mark! Words and speeches
and ideas never change anything.

- Let's do something.
- MAN: Yeah!

Who's up for a raiding party?

MARK: Got to get Dobby back onside.
The doors will definitely be locked.

Time for a futile gesture.

Let's do this thing!

- I can't believe they left the door open.
- MARK: Thank God for that.

- Super Hans?
- What are you doing here?

We're going up there, to fuck shit up.

No way.

Oh, right, fair enough.
I suppose we'd better all just...

- What?!
- Sorry, man. I've got keys.

MARK: Of course he's got keysl
He's carving up the JLB corpse.

We're just gonna take what's ours.

Make your protest through
the agreed grievance procedure -

- that's a good procedure.
- Riot!

- Put it back, bitch! That's JLB's.
- MARK: It's the pass at Thermopylae.

We're the Spartans...
Nol Hans is the Spartans.

- Come on, Mark!
- Hold on, am I a Spartan or a Persian?

Fuck it, I'll work it out later.

OK, what's the minimum criminal damage
I can get away with?

Take that!
Our work here is done! Let's go!

Snow storm!

MARK: OK, there is a nuclear reaction
under way. But I can be a cooling rod.

They're the hard spirits,
I'm the carbonated mixer.

How can I distract the savages?

Keyboardl Apparent crusade for justice,
reduced risk of RSI at home.

Double bubble.
I've got it! I've got the keyboard!

Mission accomplished, guys! Let's roll.

MARK: Why has he got his shirt off?

Any excuse and he'll take his shirt off.

Come on, Mark!

Oh, Godl Got to respond.

She's got a cock.
Need to get a cock of my own.

Suck on this!

Take it, foam face!

Dobby's hard-on's coming all over me.
This is my dream, my nightmarel

Eat my foam, eat it up!

Never foam alone!

(LAUGHING) Foam home, foam home!

Oh, this is better than sexl

It's easier than sex. Oh, my Godl
That wasn't my main photocopier,

but it was a trusty steed
when the main one was busy.

Screw itl Who needs photocopiers
when you've got a woman

and a high-resolution printer that scans?

Shall we?

Yeah, I mean,
I've copied a lot of shit on this copier,

but who the hell even cares?

- (ALL LAUGH)
- STEFFAN: Mark?

- (LAUGHTER STOPS)
- Hello, Steffan. What are you?

We're shredding, Mark. What's going on?

Nothing. Well, I mean,
obviously we're fucking everything up,

and the fact
that you're probably insured for all this

doesn't make a blind bit of difference
to us.

- Yeah.
- Yeah, so suck it up, you douche bag!

MARK: Well, got Dobby,
but there goes the Nazi gold.

Back into the vault
with all the Rembrandts.

# I'm not sick, but I'm not well

# And I'm so hot

# Cos I'm in hell. #