All language subtitles for Fawlty Towers - 203 - Waldorf Salad.ENG

Oh, it's a lovely part
of the world, isn't it?

All those beautiful trees
and fields

and variety of birds.

Yes, that's true.

And you can just go there
and get away from it all,

away from the helter-skelter
of modern life.

Because we all do need

our solitude, don't we?

Yes, we do.

I mean, nowadays,
it's not easy to find the time to...

I don't know...
enjoy life.

Because there's always things to do.
It's all so hectic, isn't it?

All of us just rushing around,
letting things get on top of us.

And quite honestly,
what's the point?

- Have you finished?
- Um, yes.

Thank you.

I think those prawns
might be a bit off.

Oh, I don't think so.

- They do taste rather funny.
- No one else has complained.

Well, I really do
think they're off.

But you've eaten
half of them.

- Well, I didn't notice at the start.
- You didn't notice at the start?

Well, it was the sauce.
I wasn't sure.

So you ate half
to make sure?

My wife thinks
they're off.

Did you want another
first course?

- No, thank you.
- Are you sure?

- No, really. Just the main...
- We'll just cancel it.

Deduct it from the bill,
is that what you mean?

As it's inedible.

Only half of it is inedible,
apparently.

Well, deduct half now,

and if my wife brings the other half up
during the night,

we'll claim the balance
in the morning.

Now, we'd like
our lambs, please.

Well, three we know
have passed on this year,

all in their early 60s,

so I've cut out butter,
and I tell you...

Here.
Thank you.

No, really...
it's all right.

- But it's all gristle!
- No, honestly.

Oh, there's
a nice bit, see?

Oh, Doris, it's awful!

No, dear, it's not
as bad as that.

I've had worse.

I don't know how
they get away with it.

Everything all right?

- Yes, thank you.
- Thank you.

- Everything to your satisfaction?
- Oh, yes, thank you.

Thank you.

Why don't
you say something?

There's is no point, is there?
We just won't come here again.

Then I'll say something.

It won't do any good.
We're leaving tomorrow.

Well, I'm going to.

I mean, we've been
sitting here waiting

for nearly half an hour,
and it...

- What's this?
- Sí?

I ordered
the cold meat salad,

and I've been waiting
about half an hour for it.

- Salad?
- Yes.

You want change?

No, I don't want
to change...

- Okay.
- Where are you going?

I don't want this.

You say
you no want change.

I want the salad.

Honestly.
Go on.

- Oh, excuse me.
- Yes?

We've been waiting
for about half an hour now.

I mean, I gave the waiter
our order...

Oh, him.
He's hopeless, isn't he?

I don't wish to complain,

but when he does bring something,
he's got it wrong.

You think I don't know?
You only have to eat here.

We have to live with it.

I had to pay his fare
all the way from Barcelona,

but you can't get the staff, you see.
It's a nightmare.

You were supposed to be
complaining to him.

Ah.

- Sorry about that.
- Thank you.

Extraordinary!

- Excuse me.
- What?

Look!

Thank you so much.

Enjoy your meal.

- You haven't forgotten our lambs, have you?
- No, they're coming, they're coming!

Excuse me.

There's sugar
in the salt cellar.

Anything else?

I've put it
all over the plaice.

All over the place?
What were you doing with it?

All over the plaice!

Polly, would you ask Terry
not to finish yet?

We need another one of these.
There is sugar in it.

- What a sweet plaice.
- What?

I'll have it re-placed.

Why is there sugar in this salt cellar?
What do you think we pay you for?

My staying power?

The lambs?

Yes, I'm getting them,
I'm getting them.

- Uh, excuse me.
- Yes?

Do you think we could
cancel our fruit salads?

Well, it's a little tricky,
chef's just opened the tin.

- Oh.
- Never mind.

I'm sure it'll be very nice,
thank you.

- There we are.
- Oh, thank you.

Yes, I do like really
beautiful places...

Busy this evening,
isn't it?

I'll tell you one
of my favorites.

I said,
"It's busy this evening."

- I'm talking to Mr. Libson, Basil.
- Good, well, that's a help.

I'm sure you can cope.

Oh, yes, I can cope, dear.
Coping's easy.

Not pureeing your loved ones,
that's the difficult part.

Did you know, Bidiford Bridge

has all different sizes...

there's someone at Reception.
Should I get it?

- Yes.
- My turn, is it? Fine.

Oh, yes. So it is.

Funny, it's been my turn
for 15 years.

Still, when I'm dead,
it'll be your turn, dear.

You'll be it.

Excuse me.
There are two lambs here.

I'll have them removed
if they're bothering you.

What?

Yes?

Yes?

Good evening.

Are those ours?

Not yet.

Good evening.

I reserved a room
by telephone this morning.

Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton.

Indeed, yes,
I remember it well.

Ah, excellent.
Hamilton, yes.

That's right.

May I welcome you
to Fawlty Towers.

I trust your stay

will be an enjoyable
and a gracious one.

- Could we have those now?
- Oh, by all means.

- Finished with them, have you?
- Absolutely.

Bon appetit.

I recommend the self-service here.
It's excellent.

- That'll be all, thank you.
- What?

Your lambs will be getting cold,
Mr. Johnston.

Colder.

If you'd like them
warmed up...

Forget it!

You could get your wife
to sit on them.

I'm so sorry,
but the rubbish we get in here.

If you'd be so very kind
as to fill that form out.

Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton...

Ah, yes, we've put you
in room 12

which has a charming panoramic view
overlooking the lawn.

What a drive, huh?

Everything on the wrong side
of the road, the weather...

What do you get for living
in a climate like this,

Green Stamps?
It's terrible!

Sorry about this.

Took five hours from London,
couldn't find the freeway.

Had to take a little back street
called the M5.

Oh, I'm sorry if it wasn't
wide enough for you.

A lot of the English cars
have steering wheels.

They do, do they?

You wouldn't think there was
room for them inside.

See what I mean?

What?

Rub-bish.

May I introduce my husband?

All the rubbish we get in here.
Look at that.

- Basil.
- More rubbish, dear.

- What?
- More of that bloody rubbish.

Polly and Manuel
are going, Basil.

Just dealing with
Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton, dear.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Manuel!

Manuel will bring
your bags to your rooms.

I hope you enjoy
your stay and...

Thank you. Do we need
to reserve a table for dinner?

Dinner?

Yes. Problem?

- Well, it is after 9:00.
- So?

Well, we do actually
stop serving at 9:00.

9:00?

If you could go straight in...

We've driven
five hours to get here.

We'd like to freshen up,
have a drink first, you know?

You couldn't do
that afterwards?

Do what?

You mean have our drink-before-dinner
after dinner,

freshen up, and go to bed?

If you could, it would
make things easier for us.

Shall we go to bed now,
would that make it easier for you?

We're a little tired, fella.

We want to clean up,
be down in a few minutes.

Yes, but the chef does
actually stop at 9:00.

9:00!

9:00!

Humph!

So why does your chef
stop at 9:00, huh?

He got something
terminal?

No, but that's when he,
in fact, stops.

Uh-huh. Now, look,

we drove from London
to stay here, right?

Are you telling me

that you can't stay open
a few minutes longer

so that we can eat
properly?

Well, we can do you sandwiches.
Ham... cheese...

- We want something hot.
- Toasted sandwiches?

- You're joking?!
- Not really.

"Not really."
Can you believe this?

What the hell's wrong
with this country?

You can't get a drink after 3:00,
you can't eat after 9:00!

Is the war still on?

- No, but it's the staff, you see.
- Oh, it's the staff.

- We have to get the staff...
- How much?

How much of this
Mickey Mouse money do you want

to keep the chef on
for half an hour?

One, two, three... £20, huh?
That enough?

- I'll see what I can do.
- Thank you.

Uh, excuse me. Pardon! Pardon!
Excuse me, please!

This way! Por aquí.
This way, please.

Gosh, that does look
absolutely marvelous, doesn't it?

Oh, um, Terry,
I almost forgot.

Some guests have just arrived,
right at the last moment, as usual.

I'm sorry, but this puts us out
just as much as it puts you out.

- It don't put me out, Mr. Fawlty.
- No, but they want some dinner,

and they insist first
on scraping off some of the filth

that somehow got caked to them
cruising down the M5.

Well, I got my class
tonight, Mr. Fawlty.

- I'm ready, Terry!
- Right-o, Poll.

No! Wait!

Did I say I will make it up to you?
Out of my own pocket.

It's not the money, Mr. Fawlty.
My karate means a lot to me.

Half an hour's overtime
and a taxi.

Mr. Fawlty,
if I miss a week,

next week I don't
get out in one piece.

An hour's overtime.

Sorry, Mr. Fawlty.

What am I going
to say to them?

Two hours.

- What?
- Two hours overtime.

I thought you said
it wasn't the money.

It ain't, but I can't think
what you're gonna say to your guests.

Terry, I'd pay you two hours overtime
if I could afford it!

Sorry, Mr. Fawlty.

An hour and a half.

- Cash?
- Cash.

An hour and a half,
but I go at half past 9:00,

- then I still get some of me class, right?
- And I do the washing up?

- You know how it is, Mr. Fawlty.
- Yes, I pay you for an hour and a half,

you clear off after half an hour,
that's how it is. That's socialism.

Oh, no, that's
the free market.

Come on, Terry.

Musn't keep
the lady waiting.

The lady?

She's from Finland, Mr. Fawlty,
and very pretty. Tall, blonde...

This Finnish floozy
is your karate teacher, is she?

Well, it's a sort
of karate, ain't it?

- Right, give me that.
- What?

I pay you overtime
to miss a class,

not to keep some bit
of crumpet hanging around.

No, it's all right! I'm washing up,
I'll do the cooking, too.

Go off and enjoy yourself.
Don't worry about me.

Go have a good time.
I'll be all right.

Go and have a bit of fun
with a Finn!

Come along, Manuel!

Where are you?
Polly? Where...

Hey, wait for me!

If you'd care
to sit over there.

Thank you.

Good evening.

- Evening.
- Good evening.

Is your room
to your liking?

- Yes, it's very nice.
- Very nice, thank you.

Oh, good.

I'll get you
tonight's menu.

Oh, would you care for a drink
before your meal?

Scotch and water
and a screwdriver, please.

And for you, madam?

The screwdriver's for me.

I see.

Would you like it now,
or after the meal?

Now, please.

There's nothing
I can put right?

- What?
- Absolutely.

So it's one scotch,
and a screwdriver.

I think I'll join you.
Make that two screwdrivers, would you?

You'd like a screwdriver,
as well?

You got it.

So, it's one scotch,
and you each need a screwdriver.

No. Forget the scotch.
Two screwdrivers.

I understand,
and you'll leave the drinks.

- What?
- Nothing to drink?

What do you mean,
"Nothing to drink"?

Well, you can't drink
your screwdrivers, can you?

What else would you suggest
that we do with them?

- Vodka and orange juice.
- Ah. Certainly, madam.

Make that two and forget
about the screwdrivers.

You sure?

We can manage
without them.

As you wish.

"Relax in the carefree atmosphere
of old English charm..."

- Shh!
- "When you're there..."

Shh!

Hope we're not intruding
on your dinner hour.

Oh, not at all, no.

You're American.

That's right.

Where are you from?

California.

How lovely.

You're English, though.

Yes, but I've been over there
10 years now.

10 years.
Do you ever get homesick?

Oh, yes, but
I love it there.

The climate's
so wonderful.

You can swim and sunbathe,
and then after lunch,

drive up into the mountains
and ski.

How wonderful.

I like England
and the English people,

but I sure couldn't
take this climate.

Harry finds it
too gloomy.

Oh, I don't find it too gloomy.
Do you, Sybil?

Yes, I do, Basil.

My wife finds it too gloomy.
I find it rather bracing.

What do you find bracing, Basil,

the damp,
the drizzle, the fog?

It's not always like this.
It changes.

My husband's like the climate.
He changes.

This morning he went on
for two hours

about the bloody weather.

Yes, it has been unusually damp
this week, in fact,

but normally we're
rather spoiled down here

on the English Riviera.

Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton were
telling me about California.

You can swim in the morning,
and then in the afternoon,

you can drive up
into the mountains and ski.

Must be rather tiring.

Well, one
has a choice.

I don't think it would suit me.
I like it down here.

It's very mild all year round.
We have palm trees here in Torquay.

Do you have palm trees
in California?

Burt Lancaster had one, they say.
But I don't believe them.

What the hell is that?

Vodka and orange juice.

Orange juice?

I'm afraid
it's not fresh.

- Isn't it?
- No.

We've just opened
the bottle.

Fresh means it comes out
of an orange, not a bottle.

You'd like freshly squeezed
orange juice.

As opposed to freshly
unscrewed orange juice.

Leave it to me.
I'll get chef onto it straightaway.

Sorry about that.
A lot of English people

are used to the flavor
of the bottle.

It's all right.
It's just that back home,

fresh orange juice comes
like running water.

Does it really?

It's so good for your skin,
isn't it?

I'd love to go
to California someday.

Looks so exciting.

"Never Love a Stranger."
Do you like it?

I love all Harold Robbins.
I've read this one three times.

"The Pirates"
is his best, I think.

I read them
when Harry's away.

I don't seem to have the time
when he's home.

Who needs Harold Robbins
when you got the real thing?

How long have you
been married, Mrs. Fawlty?

Oh, since 1485.

There we are.
Fresh orange juice.

Thank you.

But seriously, though,
his men are all so interesting.

Ruthless and sexy
and powerful.

Who's this then, dear?
Proust? E.M. Forster?

- Harold Robbins.
- Oh, yes, of course.

My wife likes
Harold Robbins.

After a hard day
slaving under the hair dryer,

she needs to unwind
with a few aimless thrills.

Basil!

Have you ever read any?

It really is
the most awful American...

well, not American...
Transatlantic tripe.

A sort of pornographic muzak.

Still, it keeps my wife
off the streets.

We both like him.

Oh, oh, R-Rob-bins?!

- What?
- Harold Rob-bins?!

I thought you meant
that awful man...

what's his name?
Ah... Harold Robinson!

Have you read any Harold Robinson?
Ah! Painful!

How about Waldorf salad?

Was that one?
You're absolutely right.

That was a shocker!

Could you make me
a Waldorf salad?

Waldorf salad.

I think we're
just out of Waldorfs.

- I don't believe this.
- It's not very well known here, Harry.

May I recommend tonight...

I'm sure your chef knows
how to fix me a Waldorf salad.

I wouldn't be too sure...

- He's a chef, isn't he?
- You wouldn't prefer...

Find out! Go see if he knows
how to fix me a Waldorf salad!

Of course, yes.

He's not positive... he's almost got it.
It's lettuce and tomato...

No, no! It's celery,
apples, walnuts, grapes!

In a mayonnaise sauce.

Incidentally,
he did ask me to say

that he does especially recommend
the paté tonight.

- I don't want paté.
- Or the grapefruit?

The grapefruit?
How's it done?

Well, it's halved,
with a cherry in the...

center.

Look! I haven't
paid you £20

to have some guy cut
a grapefruit in half

and stick a cherry
in the center!

Exactly.

I want
a Waldorf salad!

Absolutely.
One Waldorf salad.

- And a green salad for me.
- And one green salad.

And if we can't manage
the Waldorf salad?

I want a Waldorf salad!
And to follow, a couple of filet mignons!

Steaks!

Steaks! Done rare!
Not out of a bottle!

Not out of a bottle,
right.

Would you care
to see the wine list?

Thank you.

May I ask, did you say
you paid £20?

Yes. But it's,
uh... not the money.

My wife and I,
we wanted dinner and...

This can't be right.
There's no reason chef couldn't stay.

I'm awfully sorry.
He's forgotten already.

Uh, walnuts, cheese...?

No!
No cheese!

It's celery, apples,
walnuts, grapes!

- Right!
- In mayonnaise!

Right!
Now, come on!

Uh...

would you excuse me
one moment?

Uh, excuse me.
Bottle of Volnay, please.

Of course.
Thank you.

What's this
about £20, Basil?

There's no celery!
Would you believe it?

I'll find the celery.
What about this £20?

He gave me £20 to keep
the kitchen open.

Chef wouldn't tell me...
where does he put things?

- If you'd just look.
- I have looked!

There's no celery,
there's no grapes.

Walnuts! That's a laugh!
Easier to find a packet

of sliced hippopotamus
in suitcase sauce

than a walnut
in this bloody kitchen!

- We've got apples.
- Terrific! We'll celebrate.

We'll have an apple party.
Everybody brings an apple

and stuffs it down
somebody's throat!

Basil, I will find everything.
Just go and get a bottle of Volnay.

What's a Waldorf, anyway?
A walnut that's gone off?

It's the hotel, Basil.

The Waldorf Hotel
in New York.

Wait!

Wait.

Basil!

Everything all right?

Yes, thank you.

Never been better.

Oh, good.
And by the way, I wonder,

have you by any chance
ever tried a Ritz salad?

Ritz salad?

It's a traditional
Olde English thing.

It's apples, grapefruit,

and potatoes
in a mayonnaise sauce.

No, I don't think
I ever tried that.

Don't think
I ever will, either.

That's probably
pretty sound.

About this Waldorf salad
of yours...

Yes?

Been having a bit of
a tete-a-tete with chef.

We're all right on the apples,

absolutely no problem
with them at all.

Now, on the celery front,
uh... perhaps I should explain,

we normally get our celery
delivered on a Wednesday,

along with our cabbages,
onions, walnuts, grapes...

- But this week, the driver...
- Mr. Fawlty...

- He was putting...
- I'm not interested.

He slipped forward, and the van door
caught his arm and may have fractured it.

- You don't have any.
- They did the x-rays,

and we'll know tomorrow
if they'll have to operate,

and to cut a long story short,
we don't have any, no.

But, um...

so, makes you think
how lucky you are!

Doesn't it?
I mean, here we all are,

with all our limbs functioning.
Quite frankly,

if you've got your health,
what else matters?

What a bunch of crap!

Oh, do you think so?
I always feel...

What the hell's
going on here?!

It says "Hotel" outside!
Now, is this a hotel or isn't it?

Well, within reason.

You know something, fella?

If this was back in the States,
I wouldn't board my dog here.

Fussy is he?
Poodle?

Poodle?

I'm not getting through
to you, am I?

I stay in hotels
all over the world.

This is the first time I've had to bribe
a chef to cook me a meal,

then find out he doesn't even have
the basic goddamn ingredients!

Holy cow, can't you see
what a crummy dump this is?

- You listening to this, are you...
- I'm talking to you!

- Terry, you can get out...
- Shut up and listen to me!

- Can't you see this ain't good enough?
- I see what you mean.

Then you give me some half-assed story
about some delivery guy busting his arm.

Look, Fawlty, if your chef
couldn't find the ingredients from that guy,

why didn't he get them
from somebody else?

- Exactly. Hopeless.
- What?

- Completely hopeless.
- Right.

You're the manager, aren't you?
You're responsible.

So what are you
going to do about it?

I'll have a word
with him.

Have a word
with him?

Man, you gotta tell him,
lay it on the line!

Lay it on the line.

Tell him if he doesn't get on the ball,
you're gonna bust his ass!

- Bust his...?
- I'll tell him!

No, I'll tell him!
Leave it to me!

I've got it. I've got it.

- Bust his...?
- Ass!

Oh, that!

And two green salads.

Here we are.

One green salad,

and one Waldorf salad.

But I thought, uh...

Yes?

Would you excuse me
one moment?

It's not good enough!

Do you hear me?
It's not good enough!

But Mr. Robinson
hurt his arm!

That's a bunch of ass!

It's fine.

Why can't you make
a Waldorf salad?

- Waldorf salad?
- Yeah.

Tomorrow you get the ingredients
for a Waldorf salad,

or I'm going to break your bottom!

Oh, no! You can't!

No, I mean it!

- Everything all right?
- Yes, thank you.

- Everything all right?
- Yes, thank you.

You're sure
there's nothing...?

No, it's very good.

Oh, good.

Oh, um...

- your chef.
- Yes?

Has he been
with you long?

About six months.
He used to work at Dorchester.

At the Dorchester?

No. In Dorchester,
about 14 miles away.

Here we are.
Two green salads.

Basil.

Yes, dear?

Mr. Hamilton has
his Waldorf salad, dear.

No, chef couldn't make it.
He didn't have the ingredients.

I just smashed
his backside about it.

But there it is.

What?

There's the Waldorf salad.
Chef found the ingredients.

It's fine.

Well, if he found the ingredients,
why didn't he tell me?

Has he been
struck dumb?

Has somebody torn his tongue out
in the last two minutes?

Maybe Robinson's arm
got better.

I'm sorry about this.

It's all right.

- No, it isn't.
- It doesn't matter.

- It matters to me.
- I got my Waldorf salad.

- Excuse me.
- For God's sake!

- Chef, what's this?
- Bring that back immediately!

I'm so sorry.
I'll get it back for you.

Sorry?
I'll give you sorry!

- Get off your knees!
- Basil!

I haven't finished
with chef yet, Sybil.

Why didn't you tell me
you had found them,

you stupid cow?!

Eh, chef? I haven't finished!
You can have it in a...

Oof!

Sorry about
that little confusion.

Chef hasn't been
with us very long.

We've just reorganized
the kitchen.

Thank you.

Oh, you haven't got
your wine yet.

Basil!

Won't be a moment!
Basil!

Yes, my sweet?

Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton
haven't got their wine.

- Fine.
- And, Basil?

Has chef put
the steaks on yet?

I'll tell him.

Is your husband
all right?

Oh, yes. He's just had
rather a long day.

There's just the two
of you here, right?

We haven't had a proper
holiday for eight years.

Eight years?

Yes. I have to get away occasionally
just for a few hours.

Even if it's just down
to the hairdresser,

or a round of golf,

or a bridge evening
with some of the girls,

drive in the country
sometimes,

just on my own.

Pop down to Cornwall
for the day sometimes.

It's beautiful there.

Your Volnay, sir.

You must visit Cornwall
while you're here.

Incidentally,
I've been talking to chef,

and we've sorted out
what happened.

Um, apparently
he thought that he'd, uh...

That's very nice.
Thank you.

...got two orders
for Waldorf salad,

and in fact,
he had the ingredients,

until he made one,

he realized that he didn't
have enough for the second.

Don't let it bother you.

This will explain
everything.

- What's that?
- A letter.

- A letter?
- A letter from the chef.

It explains everything.

- A letter from the chef?
- He wanted to apologize personally,

but I didn't want him
wasting your time...

Look, just forget about it,
will you?

- I'll read it for you.
- I want my steak!

Won't be a moment.
"Dear Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton,

I hope you are well.

This is just a brief note to say
that I take full responsibility

for the dreadful
mess-ups tonight.

If I'd only listened
to Mr. Fawlty,

none of this fiasco
would have occurred.

I'd just like to tell you
that such a cock-up

has never occurred
in my career before,

and that now everything
has been sorted out,

I'll be back
to my very best form.

Signed, Terr..."

What are you doing?!

What do you mean,
you've burned it?

I've had just about
enough of this.

Harry...

How could you
forget about it?

I was making another Waldorf...

Making another Waldorf salad?!

What are you making
another Waldorf salad for?!

Careful, I'm only a little bloke!

What do you think
Mr. And Mrs. Hamilton must think...

Mr. Hamilton,
may I introduce Terry...

Where did he go?

Where's he gone?
Did you see him?

Maybe he went
to get something to eat.

- Come on, honey.
- What is it, Harry?

- We're leaving.
- What's happened?

I'll tell you later.

Yes, your steak will
be ready in a moment.

He must have heard
you coming,

panicked, and run out
into the yard.

You know, after all
the problems we've...

Humph!

How big a butterball
do you take me for?!

Butterb...?

You think I don't know
what's been going on out there?!

Oh, bit of a debacle,
I'm afraid.

I'm talking about you
taking £20 off me

to keep the chef on,
letting him go,

cooking the meal yourself,
then pretending he's still out there!

- Oh, that.
- Yes, that!

And I'd be interested to know
what you've got to say about it.

- Good evening.
- I asked you a question.

I'm sorry that your meal
has not been satisfactory this evening.

Huh!
What I am suggesting

is that this place
is the crummiest, shoddiest,

worst-run hotel
in the whole of Western Europe!

No!
No! I won't have that!

There's a place
in Eastbourne...

What's its name?

And that you are the British Tourist Board's
answer to Donald Duck!

Look, I know things have
gone wrong this evening,

but you must remember that we have had
thousands of satisfied customers...

All right,
let's ask them, eh?

- What?
- Let's ask them.

Are you all satisfied?
You... are you satisfied?

Major, are you satisfied?
You've been here seven years.

Oh, yes.
I love it here...

- Ladies, are you satisfied?
- Yes, thank you, Mr. Fawlty.

- Thank you for asking.
- Not at all.

- Mr. Arrad, are you satisfied?
- Well, yes.

- Mrs. Gurke, you?
- Very nice, yes.

You see?
Satisfied customers.

Of course, if this little hotel
is not to your taste,

then you are free to say so,
that is your privilege.

And I shall of course
refund your money.

I know how important
it is to you Americans.

But you must remember
that here in Britain,

there are things
that we value more,

things that perhaps in America
you've rather forgotten about,

but which to we British
are far, far more important...

I'm not satisfied.

Wh-what?

I'm not satisfied!

No, we're not satisfied!

Well, people like you
never are, are you?

What?

There's nothing I could do
to please a pair like you

short of putting straw
in the rooms.

I think you're the rudest man
I've ever met!

I haven't started yet.

And you're not going to.

You're going to stand here
nice and quiet

while these people say
whether or not they're satisfied.

You move off that spot, Fawlty,
and I'm going to bust your ass!

Everything's bottoms,
isn't it?

Yes, sir?

I think this is probably the worst hotel
we've ever stayed in.

Yes, it is. The service here
is an absolute disgrace!

- I agree.
- You do?

Yes. We had to wait
nearly half an hour

for our main course,

and when it arrived,
it was wrong.

When I complained, he fobbed me off
with some rubbish about...

My prawns were off.

When I told him,
there was an argument.

And her meat
was awfully poor.

And I asked you to fix
my radiator three times,

and nothing's been done!

Satisfied customers, huh?

Hot dog.

This is...

typical.

Absolutely typical.

The kind of...

ass...

I've had to put up with
from you people!

You ponce in here expecting to be
hand-waited on hand and foot!

I'm trying to run
a hotel here!

Have you any idea
of how much there is to do?

Do you ever
think of that?

Of course not!
You're too busy

sticking your noses
into every corner,

poking about for things
to complain about, aren't you?

Well, let me tell
you something!

This is exactly
how Nazi Germany started!

A lot of layabouts
with nothing better to do

than to cause trouble!

I've had 15 years
of pandering to the likes of you,

and I've had enough!
I've had it!

Come on, pack your bags
and get out!

They're packed.

Order 10 taxis, will you?
I'll pay for 'em.

- Come on!
- What?!

Out! Everybody out!
Come on, upstairs!

Pack your bags!
Adios! Out!

But it's raining!

You should have thought
of that before.

Too late now!
Come on, out!

Raus, raus, raus!

Basil!

What are you doing?

Well, let me explain,
my little work horse.

The guests and I have been having
a bit of an old chin wag.

And the upshot of it all is,
they're off.

Off?

Let me put it this way:
Either they go, or I go.

Right! Right!
Come on back, everybody!

My wife's had a better idea.
I'm going instead!

Well, goodbye, dear.
It's been an interesting 15 years,

but all good things
must come to an end.

I hope you enjoy your new work here,
helping to run a hotel.

Goodbye, Major.
Goodbye, ladies.

Give my regards to Polly
and Manuel. Bye, dear.

You've forgotten
your keys, Basil.

So I have, dear.
Goodbye to the rest of you.

I hope you enjoy
your stay here.

Don't forget: Any complaints,
don't hesitate to tell my wife.

Any hour of the day or night,
just shout.

Bye!

10 minutes?
That'll be fine.

Hello, dear,
I'm back.

What do you want,
Basil?

A room, please.
Number 12 is free, I think.

Now, I'd like breakfast in bed
at half past 10:00 in the morning.

That's eggs, bacon,
sausage, and tomato

with a Waldorf salad.
All washed down

with lashings
of hot screwdriver...