Original subtitles

♪ I'm not sick, but I'm not well

♪ And I'm so hot

♪ Cos I'm in hell... ♪

Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.

I'm loving the bathroom showroom.

Got these new soft-close toilet seats in.

It's like they're winking at you in slow motion.

Flirty little fuckers.

'Hans has sold out. A job and a suit

'and now we're burning all our band stuff.

'Even the contract we signed with God on mephedrone.'

Are we really going to do this? Yeah. This is it, man.

This is the day the music died.

This is the end of...

What were we called?

Dunno. 13 Bastards?

Hello, boys. Excuse me.

More, Mark?

It's a table for my printer.

You're not doing a barbecue again, are you? You know that doesn't work.

Could you please stop trying to kill me with flat packs?

I'm on my way. I'm going. I've gone.

Clearly you haven't gone. Basically I have.

You've stopped paying rent.

Or you've stopped being guilty about not paying rent.

There's always my place, Jez. I've got the bag. The bag's yours.

Cheers, man. 'Not the bag, never Hans's bag.'

And Mark, just so you know,

the guys at the showroom are looking for more hands on deck.

Money's tasty. And you get to work with toilets,

which is obviously funny. And showers, which are sexy.

OK, a job. Yeah. I'll put a word in.

Thanks for the job tip, Hans.

'Christ. Headhunted by Super Hans.

'He might be one of the few Western headhunters

'who would physically chop a head off.'

'Why didn't I get the job tip?

'We could have been the Chemical Toilet Brothers.'

'So great that Dobby's agreed to move in. Just got to close the deal.

'Get her into the flat and keep her locked down like Fritzl.

'No, not like Fritzl! Like a nice, normal, loving guy

'who knows where she is at all times. Which at no point

'would be locked in the cellar.'

Good time at Gerard's last night?

Yeah. We had a game of Connect 4.

Oh. Connect 4.

'God, he's so sickly. She never plays Connect 4 with me.

'I'd love to play Connect 4 with her...if it wasn't so boring.'

He's not in a great way. Poor guy can barely move.

Oh, really?

'I bet some parts of him can move very well.'

Looks like I've got a job interview lined up. Bathroom supplies.

Incredibly flat management structure, which is cool.

Amazing. 'Ah, lovely fake enthusiasm.'

Hey, Mark, can you open a tin of mushy peas?

'Hold on, what's that? What's that there?'

Oh, new tin-opener. Sweet.

'I've got a tin-opener. Why's she buying a new tin-opener?

'Fuck! She's not gonna move in.

'This is no pound-shop tin-opener, this is a luxury tin-opener.

'She's gonna use this to open her single tins, and then somehow get

'the sexual satisfaction from it I so obviously can't give her!'

Oh, er, Dobs, just cos I need to do a form,

when do you think you might be moving in?

Er, yeah, soon. The rent here's killing me, so, yeah.

When I can get the bloody deposit sorted and get my shit together.

Ah, cool. 'The getting together of the shit.

'Could take a night. Could take five years.'

Shit. Nuke this, will you?

'Need more information. The tin-opener isn't conclusive.

'Could ask her straight how she feels...'

Oh, hi, Gerard.

'Yeah, right!

'What if I broke the microwave?

'Test case. If she buys a new one, I'll know she's never moving in.

'Hmm. Can I?

'Yeah. Maybe a good old waggle in there. Take that, mechanism.

'You weren't built for the screwdriver, were you?

'You don't like that in there, do you?

- 'No macaroni for us tonight.' - Bye.

'Sorry, microwave.'

Oh, Dobs, looks like your bloody microwave's bust or something.

Still, I've got one at mine, so...

Oh! But I only do robot cooking. I can't do analogue.

Screw it. I'll grab something at Gerard's.

Gerard's? That was him just now.

He's feeling a lot worse. I said I'd go over for a bit. Is that cool?

Oh, sure.

'The sickly Casanova. Aiming for a bit more Connect 4-play.

'Well, I'm going to block your bright red cock

'with my multiple...discs of... yellow...cock.'

Hi, Dobs, thanks for coming over.

'Yes, Gerard, but there's a sting in the tail,

'a scorpion in the Kinder egg, a nail in the Toblerone, and 'tis I.'

Oh! Hi, Mark.

Yes. We were about to have a romantic Italian dinner for two

when you rang, so I thought I'd come along.

Oh, great. Great, yeah, great.

How are you doing, you big fuck-stick?

I feel awful.

Oh, that's not the spirit. Mind over matter.

Your friend the Cyberman wouldn't be so defeatist,

nor would any of your other brilliant... dolls.

I'll get you a pie on.

Which do you want, grey matter pie or brown matter pie?

Grey matter would be lovely, thank you.

I know what you're doing, Gerard.

What's that, Mark? Being quite ill?

I've got my beady eye on you.

You're barking up the wrong tree.

She's not interested in romancing the stone, Gerard.

It's no dice for you and your sickly ways.

Yeah? We'll see about that.

I'm playing the long game.

Where's your inhaler, G-man?

Maybe in the spare room? Ken took the last of his stuff.

It feels funny to be all alone.

To be honest, if I could just find a pal,

I'd ask them to move in rent-free.

Don't worry, Mark. I'll take good care of her.

Very, very good care indeed.

'I can't compete with that! A free room at Gerard's

'versus 50 quid a week for Fritzl's cellar!'

'Time to say goodbye to Daddy and hand you over to Mummy.

'Mmm. Pretty sure he's parked a turd in there.

'Sophie can change that in the lift.'

Hi, Soph.

'Oh, great.'

All right, Mark? Jeff?

I'm here for Ian.

Didn't Soph tell you? We're back on.

I moved into Nana's cottage last month, so...

Oh, right.

'God. Should I...

'give the thing I love best to the man I hate most?'

Say bye-bye.

Bye-bye. See you later, Mark. Bye-bye.

Has he...?

Don't think so, mate.

'Maybe Ian won't remember I gave him away to another man.

'If he does, he'll be some kind of memory genius.

' "Yeah, my son hates me, but he can remember a full deck of cards

' "and that's why he lives in Vegas." '

Jeff? I think it's OK.

Or do you think there's any chance

he's trying to kill all my offspring?

Like Herod?

That's a lot of shopping, Jez. Yeah, stocking up.

Right. It's just Dobby might well have moved in

before we eat all these horrible lentils.

I've just got the feeling,

maybe, I'm going to get to finish these lentils.

She is moving in, you know. I'm getting a firm date.

Why have you got cat food?

To confuse them. Fucking Nectar inspectors.

That's why I got the denture cleaner, to throw them a weird one.

"Who are these guys?"

Great, so now they'll think we're a couple of guys with our booze

and our pizzas and a cat we starve and an old man we've kidnapped,

whose dentures we periodically deign to cleanse.

Mm-hmm.

Hey.

Margherita or pepperoni, Dobs?

Ooh, it's like Sophie's Choice.

If Meryl Streep had given birth to a pair of Chicago Town pizzas.

Oh, Jez, Mark told me about you burning the band. Are you OK?

Yeah, I'm too big to fail.

He doesn't know what that means.

I do know what that means.

'He doesn't know what that means.'

Anyway, it's cool. I've always got the 3-0 Walcott millions.

Jeremy's planning to sell the headline "3-0 Walcott"

to a tabloid newspaper when Theo Walcott turns 30

and we've agreed not to argue whether that's a good plan.

It is a good plan. I know.

Listen, my mate Alice is seeing a shit-hot therapist.

He's sorted her right out. Work, relationships,

her OCD about visiting every mainland Holland & Barrett, everything.

I'd love to do therapy.

Get someone's hands in my brain, have a root around.

I just can't afford it.

You know what, Jez, if you like, I could pay for you to have therapy.

It's not with electric, is it?

No. He's really amazing.

And it's only 500 for an intensive course.

Why don't I give you that? Your deposit, since you're moving on.

Really? Are you sure? What about the stain?

It's a goodbye gift. Fuck the stain.

Dude! I thought you were going to wheedle me for ages about the stain.

Spend it on a nut doctor to work out what's wrong with you.

I love you, Mark.

I like you too, Jez.

It's Gerard.

Oh, Dobs, you saw him last night

and the night before.

It's like you're turning into his personal bum-boy.

He's really ill, Mark.

I was really looking forward to spending the evening with you.

I could be there and back in under an hour. He might have got worse.

But... it looks like there's someone on The Apprentice

who I think we're both going to really loathe. A real specimen.

I've seen it. He is a shit-bag.

Look, Dobs, sometimes you need to draw a line.

Whoa! You manhandled my phone.

That's pretty Fifty Shades of fucking Grey.

You know you wanted me to.

Right, well, this bloke better be a solid gold twat.

'Right, therapy. What do I really want from therapy?

'A harsh, unremitting stare at the bare facts of my actual life.

'Oh, fuck that, he's eating a Twix! I can't take him seriously.'

Mr Usbourne?

Sorry, I'm Mr Smith, wrong house, I'm not coming back. Goodbye.

Grayson's the kind of guy who'll respect you more

if you stand up to him.

'Interview advice from the disordered mind of the crackhead.'

Right.

You should be like, "No, mate.

"Let me stop you there. This interview's gone on long enough.

"I need a shit and a glass of water. I'll be back in five."

Then march out, stroll round the block, back in, he'll love all that.

A shit and a glass of water?

Yeah, whatever. "I've got a headache, need a baguette."

'OK, here goes. At least I'm the first one in.

'Hi, Robert Grayson. I'm Mark Corrigan.

'Hi, Robert Grayson. Pleased to meet you.

'Hi, Mr Grayson. Pleased to meet you.

Mr Grayson's ready for you. Thank you.

'Hi, Mr Grayson. Pleased to meet you.'

Hi, I'm Robert Grayson. Pleased to meet you.

No, I'm Robert Grayson.

No, s-sure.

Are you Robert Grayson?

No, I'm sorry. You are.

You are, I'm not. I'm very sorry.

'Mmm. I have a sudden overpowering desire

'for a glass of water and a baguette.

'Wow. I can't believe I got a second interview!

'If I can only remember my own name at the next one,

'I might be in with a chance.

'Hang on, this is prime therapy time.

'Oh, I get it. The lady doth eat bhaji too much, methinks.

'I've seen behind the curtain. Ahoy there, moral high ground.

'He's wasting 500 of my pounds!

'And it feels fantastic.'

Hi, Jez. How was your session?

Oh, good, yeah. Amazing. Reckon I'll be cured soon.

"Cured?" Did they use that phrase?

I don't really want to go into it,

but we hit upon a lot of key issues...

'Me and Dr Bhaji.'

Well, they certainly cost a pretty penny,

so they must know what they're talking about.

I guess you won't have had the chance to get anything to eat.

Oh, er, no, that's right.

I thought so.

So I've got us both a lovely big curry as a treat.

Oh! Good.

Come on, sit down.

Tuck in. There's bhajis.

'Is he fucking me? How would he know?

'Unless he drives around in a Jeremy detector van.'

Chicken tikka masala, balti tiger prawn...

vegetable korma.

I thought I'd really push the boat out.

There's a naan and a half each.

Lovely.

So, are they any particular school, your therapists, Jez?

I'm interested.

Oh, you know, a...

mixture.

A mixture? That is interesting.

Have some of the lamb pasanda. It's incredibly rich and creamy.

You're such a bastard.

I've bought you a lovely curry. What's wrong with that?

You know, don't you? You know exactly what's wrong with it.

No.

Just tell me.

Just say it, and it'll all be fine.

No more curry, no more problem.

I'm not saying it.

Then eat up.

All right, I didn't go to the therapist.

I had onion bhajis instead.

You're the king, I'm a piece of shit.

I pissed it up the wall, like I piss everything up the wall. Happy now?

Yes, I am happy now.

I'm a shithead. I need help. I need therapy.

Hey, great news! I got called back for a second interview

at Baths, Bathrooms & Fittings.

Congratulations.

Gerard's dead.

What?

- He's dead. He died. - When?

Last night, a couple of hours after he called.

Oh, Jesus!

'Fucking hell, Gerard, there was no need to die.

'God, I only disliked you a bit, I didn't want you to...

'Fuck. Oh, bloody hell.'

Things took a turn for the worse.

He got taken to hospital, but it was too late.

Blimey. What did he die of?

Flu.

He died of flu?

Hey, Jeremy, Gerard's died of flu!

Bullshit.

Seriously.

Bloody hell.

That is so Gerard.

I know!

He had a weak immune system, Mark.

Mmm. He had a weak everything, to be fair, Dobs.

'Oh, my goodness. Dead.

'He's actually dead, he's gone. He's never coming back.'

He left a message. D'you want to hear it?

Oh, God, er...

'Hi, Dobs. Not feeling great.

'Don't trouble yourself.

'Er, I just wanted to say hi but, er, I guess I'll just say bye.'

I can't believe you cancelled his call so we could have a frozen pizza

and watch The Apprentice.

In a way, though, don't you think that's what he would have wanted?

No.

I just wish I could have said goodbye to him.

Sure. Me too.

I wish he was OK, I really do.

'Hi, Dobs.

'Not feeling great. Don't trouble yourself.

'Er, I just wanted to say hi but, er, I guess I'll just say bye.'

'The reproachful, but still quite irritating voice

'from beyond the grave.'

His sister wants me to help organise the funeral. Her head's in pieces.

Their mum and dad are both gone, so...

Do you know what, Dobs?

We're going to make this the best darn funeral ever.

Nice chapel, eulogies,

the wake somewhere lovely.

I can get a wake cake.

'Ooh, he's gone over the edge there.'

'Jesus, life...spinning past.

'Every second. Every single fleeting moment.

'Till we're gone.

'I'm taking a look at my phone tariff.

'I've got a very strong feeling I'm being fucked in the arse.'

'Third place we've been to.

'Feels like she's still seeing more of him than me.

'Funeral parlour. Massage parlour.

'Those are the main parlours, aren't they? What's the link?

'Both lying down? Except, pizza parlour?'

Hey, guys. This one... feel right?

I think so, yeah. Don't you, Dobby?

I think it does.

Oh, great, that is nice.

It looks, if this doesn't sound weird,

like his sort of place.

'Mm, definitely does sound weird.'

Do you know what I mean?

I do know what you mean, yeah.

Dry, understated, but warm.

Gerard.

Yeah...

Gerard.

'The guy's really come into his own since he's been dead.'

Yeah, and they can get the chapel Katy wanted at the time she wanted.

Friday at 11.

But is that the best time?

Is that a good time?

It's a very popular time.

It's just, it's stupid really,

but I have actually got called back for a second interview,

and I wondered, because that's set,

whether maybe we should consider...

Mark!

Forget I said anything.

Forget the interview.

But never, repeat never...

forget Gerard.

'Interview, then funeral. The ultimate combo.

'Minicab waiting,

'same outfit for both.' Ah, Mark,

come on in.

OK, so, for the second stage,

we thought we'd take a different approach.

A joint interview.

Test your group decision making and personnel skills.

Good?

Great. Survival of the slickest.

Hmm. Exactly.

So, you should all have had time

to look at the task. Yeah, it's a great task.

But I think we should really try and...

think outside the box on this one.

'Just leave that to hang like the bad fart it is.'

If I may, perhaps we should pool our skill sets

by subdividing into working groups.

How about you guys look at the logo and web strategy,

while Hugh has a think about the rebrand?

OK.

'Fucking my rival with the dildo of the impossible rebrand.'

And, if you like, I can link us all together and do the boring stuff.

'He said, self-effacingly, as he definitely secured the job.'

'Mmm, he looks OK. Wonder what's wrong with him.

'Mistook his wife for a hat?

'Mistook his hat for a child called It?'

Mr Bendicks will be with you in five minutes.

'"Mr Bendicks?" Is that a joke? Maybe it's a test.

'If you tell him his name makes you think of bendy dicks,

'he knows that you need the electric?

Relax, just take it quick and easy.

'Whip through a couple of my issues, drugs, career, women,

'the way I can't go to sleep unless I'm wearing a woolly hat.

'And he'll be like, "Dude, you're cool.

"Everyone does the woolly hat thing."

"We are the Lord's..." Hey, hey, hey.

This place is great! What a find.

You're very fucking chipper, Mark.

Sorry, it's just, it went pretty well at the interview.

At the funeral, not so much.

No, sure. Obviously.

"For it is written..."

Still, this looks like a great funeral.

'God, I feel so upbeat!'

Yeah, well, he was a nice guy.

'This is a megafuneral. It was a mega interview.

'Hugh was the only real rival.

'But look what's happened to Gerard. This is what I do to rivals.

'I put my rivals in the ground.'

Alan Johnson.

Hi, guys.

My first memory of this great little guy in the... big old box here

was when Gerard's cheeky little face poked round my door at JLB.

He was sniffing around for a raise that,

given what I don't think anyone will mind me saying,

were his very limited attributes, was bloody outrageous.

Look. Nothing can make today all right.

But maybe we can take some comfort from the brutal reality

that the weak must make way for the strong.

Evolution marches on. The scythe is remorseless.

I hope the scythe's remorseless swing

can bring some comfort to you all.

- OK. - Thank you very much, Alan,

for those inspiring yet challenging words.

'A third interview, in half an hour?

'Say no? Hugh won't say no.

'Could I? Out in five, cab over in 20?'

Now Gerard's close friend, Mark Corrigan.

'Yeah. Listerine in the cab, swill the backwash into my Volvic,

'spurt of Lynx. It's the busy man's shower.

'OK, the edit. The brutal edit.'

Er, OK. Hi.

So, there's... there's so much to say about Gerard.

That can all go. That goes.

In a way, whatever I say will end up feeling incomplete.

Covered myself there. So, why don't I just sum up?

My first day, I thought, "What a great guy."

I liked him as soon as I met him.

This is going to take forever.

Yes, I mean, why don't I just give you the stories, the highlights?

Aberdeen, the Finnemore numbers, tube up the nose!

But so... noble.

World Of Warcraft, huge for him,

JLB, obviously, which I think Alan hit.

Sum up, time to sum up.

Look, I don't want to warble on when we probably all want to be out,

grieving and crying in a more well-catered environment.

Sarnies, God, he loved a sandwich.

Seriously. 'That's enough.' So, I just feel very sad.

That's the take-home message which I want you all to go away with.

'Think I got away with that. Yeah.

'If you've got any complaints, tell 'em to Gerard.'

'OK, Mr Bendicks, bring it on.'

Want some Curly Wurly?

'Yeah, you weren't expecting that, were you?'

Nothing, OK.

I've heard about this. Harsh Freudian.

I suppose you want me to sit here, yeah?

Well, how about if I go and stand over here instead?

Do you think you can handle that? Mm?

So I suppose I can say anything in here. That's the whole idea, right?

I can call you a dickhead if I want. Yeah, got a big dick for your head.

'Is he going to get me sectioned?

'I hope he doesn't have a secret sectioning button under there.'

So what do you want me to do? Pull down my pants and fertilise the plants? Oh, you'd love that.

Yeah. Then you'd have a real "patient" on your hands.

More "mental millions" for your high-interest account

or ISA or share portfolio

or to spend on your wife or your boyfriend,

chowing down on an Aberdeen Angus steak from your Volkswagen Passat.

That's right, kimosabe, I've got your number.

Yeah. Doesn't feel very nice when the searchlight

is turned on the searchlight operator.

Hmm? Yeah, pal?

How about if I just pulled my knob out and started wanking? Yeah?

Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?

My gonads out, one ball dangling in front of each eye.

That's your dream, yeah?

Well, I'm not going to!

Would you like a glass of water?

Yes, please.

Where the hell have you been, Mark?

Me? Oh, nightmare. Getting hold of the wake cake.

Wake cake?

Gotta have a wake cake.

Ta-dah! Specially made.

I don't think so. This is a football cake.

No! Gerard loved the... the Reds,

the... red team.

You've made something up and then scrimped on it.

'Oh, come on! There were three shelves of cakes cheaper than this.'

Hey, Mark, how was the funeral?

Great, I got the job!

That's amazing! That's amazing news.

Are you... OK?

Mark, I love therapy.

OK, good.

You should have therapy.

He should have therapy. Everybody should have therapy.

OK, good. What did he say?

Therapy, therapy, therapy.

Yeah, is it just saying "therapy" that you're into now?

Mark, today is the day I worked out

I am not currently a very successful musician.

I know, yes.

Yeah, I know you know. But now I know.

And now I know what I'm going to do with my life.

'Sell it on eBay?'

I'm going to become a therapist.

'Of course.'

I could therapise you.

You really need therapy.

Mark, can you give me a hand microwaving these chicken bites?

On my way. 'The microwave test. The moment of truth.

'Will she stay or will she go? If she stays there will be trouble.

'If she goes, I'll get a cuddle.'

So what are you thinking on the microwave, then, Dobs?

Are you gonna just wait and use mine when you...?

Oh, I've fixed the microwave.

You've... fixed it?

It makes it think the door's closed,

so it still goes, even though it shouldn't!

Great! You've tricked the microwave into releasing its dangerous rays.

It's fine.

My ear is getting hot. Is your ear hot?

Dobby, are you going to move in with me soon, do you reckon?

Cos all this horrible death is making me really keen to start my life.

Well, you've been married and had a baby.

Yeah, but not really.

I thought we were waiting for Jez to move out.

Yeah, but he won't move out till you move in.

And it's so expensive for you here on your own.

Actually, I'm cool about the money,

because, you heard about this little bit Gerard left me?

Fucking good bloke, eh?

I feel very free. You know?

'She's never gonna move in. Well played, Gerard.

'You couldn't beat me on earth so you're shitting on me from heaven.

'Like a dead, jealous pigeon.'

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