Original subtitles

Weekends in suburbia are a great time to wash the car, mow the lawn, or insult

your children.

Right, we'll only be a couple of hours. Try not to break anything.

Don't you want to take Benji?

We're going to eat grandad's grave, you moron. Why do we want to take that

shitty machine with us? He likes the fresh air. So do my bollocks.

Doesn't mean I take them out in graveyards.

Dickhead. With his parents gone, Jay did what pretty much every male human does

when they think they might get five minutes alone in the house.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't alone.

He had company.

Fucking hell, Benji!

Jay was into some pretty weird stuff, but even he drew the line at letting the

family pet stare at his penis.

Why don't you just shut him out of the room? Well, I tried that, but he goes

mental. Scratches at the door and howls. That's even more distracting.

Or you could take him to a dog training class.

I think traditionally they teach more sit, stay, beg, not stop watching me

wank, you're putting me off.

Why didn't you buy a PS3? Everyone knows that Wiis are for children and girls.

And gays.

Well, I'm just heading out. Oh, sorry, didn't realise you had friends around.

Hello, boys.

Hi, Mrs McKenzie. Hello. Hi.

I see you're enjoying Will's new WII. It's called a Wii.

It's pretty neat, isn't it? It's the only computer game I've ever been able

to play. Would you like a game now, Mrs McKenzie? Oh, no, I'm not very good.

Even Will can beat me.

You must be terrible.

Well, I'll give you some tips.

With this one, the trick is to bounce around a lot.

Is it?

Oh, yeah, you really need to bounce up and down.

OK, maybe I'll give it a quick game. No, you definitely won't.

Did you want something?

Oh, not really. I'm just going away for the weekend and wondered if there's

anything special you wanted from Waitrose. You're going away?

Where? To a friend's house in the Cotswolds.

You don't have any friends in the Cotswolds? Yes, I do.

Who? Fergus.

Sorry, who?

Fergus. We were friends at college and we've just recently caught up again on

Facebooks. You're going away with a Facebook stalker? Do you not watch the

news? Where's he taking you, a ditch off the A40?

I know you're upset, but try not to overreact.

Maybe we should talk about this later.

No, let's talk about it now, in front of everyone. I've got nothing to hide, have

you? Well, try and stay calm or you'll have an asthma attack, just like you did

that time when we lost Teddy.

OK, fine, yeah, we'll talk about it later.

For the record, it was an allergy. It wasn't Teddy's fault. But luckily, the

others didn't take the piss for too long, because they were obsessed with

the really big news of the day. With Will's mum on Facebook, that's tonight's

rank lined up. I doubt she's put anything too outrageous out there. As

long as it has the eyes, eyes is all I really need. Why is she going away to

get wrinkly old cock when she could just stay at home and have one massive young

pulp? It's a mystery to me. That is perhaps the greatest mystery of all

time. Oi, Neil.

Why do that?

It's just funny. And cool. But that's someone's garden. It's vandalism. Nah,

vandalism is like smashing in people's windows or something. This is just a

laugh. Give it a go, Si. Don't think so. What, in case you go to prison for

killing flowers?

Don't worry, Si. Don't hurt them. They ain't got feelings. Look.

I'll pass.

Good luck with the landscape gardening. I'll see you later.

What are you getting?

Golf. Got the Father-Son tournament at the weekend.

Golf? Golf is for fat wankers in their 40s. You know what golf stands for? No.

What?

Gay... outdoor lifestyle with fellas.

Brilliant. Well, it's not as entertaining as playing with flowers,

but I sort of don't care what you say, because it turns out I'm quite good at

it. We might actually win. Oh, win.

See you later, then. Oh, mate, that is too perfect.

Nice. Oh, what? Come on. Listen, Tiger Wuss, you should probably get off. You

won't like this.

Some flowers are about to get fucked up.

So while the other three were enjoying themselves, I was having a terrible

week. Finding out your mum is on Facebook is bad enough, but finding out

she's using it to look for cock is beyond the pale.

Am I overreacting?

I've never been introduced to even the notion of a boyfriend.

I think I'm entitled to be reasonably defensive about him.

Neil, your parents have been divorced longer than mine. What was it like when

your mum had her first boyfriend?

It wasn't too bad. He was a bit like my dad. I suppose she's got a type.

Gaze, fuck off. It's still difficult, though, isn't it?

Yeah, no, I understand.

Do you think this is the first snob she's had since your dad?

Whoa, maybe we'll leave the heart to heart for now then, Neil. But we have

established that this Fergus bloke is boning her. They're just going to Bath

for the weekend.

Sightseeing. The major sight being her tits in his mouth.

I think it's the Roman baths, actually.

So, when's she coming round for the party?

Um... Never? Oh, come on, if your mum's going away, you've got to have a party.

No, I'm not going to be one of these idiots who advertise a small gathering

on Facebook, then 4,000 people turn up, the roof gets stolen, and the next

morning they're on the news saying, things just got out of hand.

Plus, your mum will probably find out now she's on Facebook.

Yeah, tell her she hasn't replied to my friend request yet. Please stop looking

at my mum on the internet, Neil. Did a lot more than look at her last night.

And that's an OK thing to say now, is it? All right, let's keep this party

simples. Just us, a crate of vodka... A jacuzzi full of clunge. No parties and

no imaginary orgies. That's the last thing I need. It's bad enough my mum's

now practically internet dating.

Mackenzie, did you just say your mother is internet dating?

Erm, sort of. Ah, interesting.

I'm single at the moment and she is very much my type.

OK. Maybe you could set me up with her and then who knows?

If things go well, you could end up calling me Daddy.

Is this what you wanted to see me about, sir?

No. My office.

Now.

Great. Now even the head of sixth form was doing jokes about my mum.

At least I hoped he was joking.

As I'm sure you're aware, there's been a spate of vandalism recently, culminating

in someone adapting the flower displayed by the main roads that it now reads, We

Come Tit Village.

Oh, you think that's funny to you, Mackenzie? Well, a bit. It doesn't even

make sense.

We come tit village?

What kind of morons would do that?

I think you know exactly who did it.

What?

I don't know, sir.

Honestly, I don't. Oh, come on, McKenty. You're the sort of busybody that knows

everything that's going on. You can't resist getting that beak of yours into

other people's business.

Beak? Yes, your beaky nose.

If you don't tell me who did it, in my role as your UCAS referee, I will fuck

your application up.

I honestly don't know who did it.

I don't.

I would have grasped. You know I would have grasped straight away.

Yes, that is true.

Well, you've got till Monday to find out, or it's goodbye first-rate

education. Hello, the University of Lincoln.

This was serious.

I'd been to Lincoln, and it's a shithole. But luckily, I was about to

take part in the shortest investigation ever.

What did Gilbert want, then? He thinks I know who vandalised the roundabout.

Maybe you do.

Oh, God. It was you two, wasn't it? I can't remember.

Was it us, Neil? I can't remember, Joe.

Yeah, it was us. Fucking brilliant.

Well done, you morons. Thanks. You going to grasp them up, then?

Yes, of course.

I will.

Fine. No, then.

Yeah, hilarious.

You vandalise something, I end up at the University of Lincoln.

I'll tell you what will be hilarious.

What's that?

When Gilbert fucks your mum, he will crush her.

No, a lovely big tits are cushioning him, I reckon. Yeah, if he's on top.

But what about from behind, Neil? Well, can you imagine the size of his

bollocks? It'd be like two massive wrecking balls smashing against their

arse. Lovely image. She's going to be a mess when he's finished with her. Oh,

maybe we'll go twos out with that Fergus bloke. What an enjoyable conversation

this is about my actual mother.

Yeah, I bet she's getting a load right now. Well, she isn't because she doesn't

leave till tomorrow.

Oh, Simon, do you want to stay over?

Oh, what? You said no-one was allowed round.

It's for security reasons.

You mean you're too scared to sleep in the house on your own?

No. I can't, sorry.

I've got the golf tournament at 8 on Sunday, so I promised my dad I wouldn't

be out late on Saturday.

I'll tell you what, Briefcase. I need a night away from the dog, so if you're

going to be scared, I'll stay round. And I won't even charge.

I just need some baby lotion and access to your mum's knicker drawer. Well, it's

a lovely offer, but I think I'll pass.

Neil, are you around?

As long as I'll bring my PS3 so we don't have to play those shit Wii games.

Yeah, anything you like.

How come he can fucking stay in our car?

Well, mainly because he's not planning to ejaculate over my mother's underwear.

I ain't promising nothing.

The next day, and my mum was all set to go.

Now, I'm not one for making rash judgements, but to me, Fergus looked

like a massive ginger bellend with a stupid car, and I hated him. The fridge

is full, but if you need anything else, the Ocado account number's by the

computer. You're only going to be away for one night, aren't you?

Probably. I've left the heating on constant, just in case you get cold, and

don't forget, Mrs Springett's got a key, so she'll be popping in to check you're

OK. Well, look forward to an unscheduled appearance from her, then.

Oh, and Neil, Will's a little bit stressed at the moment. Me not being a

brown might bring on one of his migraines. If that does happen, there

are special suppositories in the bathroom cabinet.

Mum? It's the only thing that works. He's just a bit sick. Can't keep

painkillers down.

Just need to pop two in.

In where?

Well, they are suppositories, so in his bottom. Mum!

For a joke?

No, to stop his headache.

Bipedal.

Well, that is not happening.

Seriously, I don't care if you're dying. I'm going nowhere near your arsehole.

No, sure.

Fair enough.

OK, so they've gone, then. That's actually happened.

Fine, come on then, Neil. Let's run through a few house rules. Nothing too

crazy, just... Shotgun in your mum's bed.

Right.

As Neil made himself very much at home, Jay had come up with a plan to put some

distance between his sexual organs and the dog.

He'd temporarily lose Benji, run home and do what he had to do, do what he had

to do again, and once more if it wasn't too painful, then head out with some

photocopied lost dog signs and a £20 reward.

Unfortunately, Benji, a dog, was too smart for him.

Fucking hell, Benji.

Back at mine, I was fighting a losing battle to house train my new pet.

Do you eat this much toast at home?

Will, what's this pesto? Is it for humans?

No, it's for extraterrestrials. That's why I keep it in the fridge. Of course

it's for fucking humans.

Can you have it on toast?

Please use a plate.

Hi, guys.

How did you get in?

The front door was open.

Neil, did you leave the front door open?

A lot ago. I'll do us some toast, Neil. All right.

Sorry, is there a sign outside by the permanently open front door saying, this

way to the toast bar?

Look, you're not even watching the TV.

All right, can't hang home alone. It's just full sababit. Why are you even

here? I needed to get away from my place. The door's driving me fucking

mad. Because it stares at you while you masturbate?

Exactly. How long have you had him now?

About eight years.

Has he always done it?

No, of course he hasn't. I wasn't wanking a lot when I was ten, was I?

I thought you got laid when you was nine, with a fit babysitter.

Well, yes, I did kneel, and that was why I wasn't wanking so much. Something must

have started him off. I think he might have chewed on the tissue under my bed

and now he's got a taste for it.

Jesus, that's some acquired taste. Dry Kleenex and you're ejaculate.

Here you are, Jake.

Cheers. Can you try a bit tidier, please?

Doing what won't be tidy?

Your mum's tits. I bet Fergus is covering him in spooge right now.

Can we not talk about this?

Chuck's the drink, Neil. Um, no one is chucking anything. If you want a drink,

then pour yourself a glass. The glasses are up there. God, it's like staying at

the Ritz.

Famous, of course, for its no-chucking drinks or toast passes.

Well, there's no fucking glasses.

Try the dishwasher.

Oh, for God's sake!

Right, we're going out.

Out where? I don't care. Outside. Out of here.

Fucking hell, I'll buy you a new glass if you're going to get so menstrual

about it. It's not about the glass. You're like a plague of toast-eating

locusts. Right, fine.

We'll go out.

Neil, I think it's time we took Will on a pussy patrol.

So I was taken along on the pussy patrol, and it was pretty much

everything I dreamed it would be.

This is the pussy

patrol, is it? Driving your mum's car very slowly around the estate?

Sometimes we go down to shops.

Have you even got your licence?

Provisional. So all the time you've been driving, it's been illegal.

Great. It's fine. If we get stopped, we just say I'm giving him a lesson. But

you're allowed to give lessons till you've been driving for three years.

You just say disabled, then it's allowed.

Who's disabled?

You or him? One of us. You say it's a mental disablement. Yeah, I do a really

good voice.

Oh, well, I look forward to that, then.

Watch that squirrel, Jay.

Oh, ships, they'll jump out of the way. They always do.

Ah! He left! You just lost a game of chicken with a rodent. He's still there.

He's mugging you off, mate. Yeah, we'll see who's the chicken.

Oh, my God, he's jumped out of the way. He's made you look all right, Mug. Oh,

fuck this.

Right.

Oh, God.

Why did you do that?

Not so clever now, is he? Now who's the fucking mug?

I don't think he was trying to make you look a mug, Jay.

Fucking little piss-taker. I'll get a spade, we'll bury him. Nah, fuck him!

His eyes look sad.

Great. So, so far in Jay and Neil's war against Mother Nature, the death toll

stood at 52 flowers and one piss-taking squirrel.

With the blood of a defenceless animal on our hands, and on Jay's wheel arches,

we headed back to mine.

Right, where have you been? Jesus Christ, Simon, you scared the shit out

of me. How did you get in here? That door was open. Neil!

Oh yeah, sorry.

Mate, what the fuck are you wearing?

It's a polo shirt and chinos. You looked like my cousin when he went for a job

interview. Oh, is he a golf pro?

No, he's got Down syndrome.

This is just what everyone wears for golf.

Can I make some toast, Will? Pop one in for us, Simon. Just get the shit out of

Pooh, yeah?

Use the downstairs toilet and open a window!

Who's that?

Hello. This is for Polly Milf, Kenzie.

If this was my dickish friend's way of taking my mind off what Fergus was doing

to my mum, it wasn't working.

Who ordered these?

I know, I'm a genius.

Your mum left her card details on a post-it on the laptop.

That's for emergencies only!

Well, it was an emergency!

Your house is fucking boring!

Now we can get totally wankered. No, I'm getting it refunded. I don't want to get

wankered. I want everything to be the same as it was before she went away.

What?

Nothing. We haven't done anything, have we, Si? No, we haven't been anywhere

near your Facebook page. Oh, for fuck's sake, what have you done?

Oh, you've changed my profile pic to a fat naked man and you've changed my

status to Will is fingering his cat.

Presumably you've changed the password too? Yeah.

Do you like the picture?

I mean, the knob's a bit big, but other than that, it's definitely you.

Seriously, you've got to tell me the password. What if my mum sees this? She

won't. I don't think Fergus can get Facebook on the end of his cock.

Look, if you don't tell me the password, I'm contacting the site administrator

and reporting you. Oh, look out, Si. He's going to get the Facebook police

onto us. Oh, no, I don't want to get told off by the nerds who run Facebook.

Please, I'm begging you.

OK, you can have the password if I can stay over.

I thought it was boring here.

Well, it is. But you don't have a dog, and I have certain needs to fulfil.

Oh, Christ.

All right, you can fucking stay. Now, what's the password?

I heart.

I heart. My mum's vagina.

Brilliant.

And that's not even it!

Jay! Briefcase wanker.

Pricks.

So I'm no longer fingering a cat, but now I can't return the lager. Thanks,

Jay. You're welcome. Si? I can't really. I've got the tournament tomorrow.

Oh, just one.

Oh, fuck. I can probably have one, can't I? Toilet's blocked.

What do you mean, toilet's blocked?

It's blocked.

So what you actually mean is you've blocked the toilet?

Maybe. I don't know. I'm not a plumber.

Oh, I think I can smell it from here.

Yeah, it was a bad one, to be honest. Like all the leftovers from Christmas

dinner all in one go. Oh, God.

So as you'd expect, not a clean break.

And I ran out of toilet roll, so I had to use a wet towel.

Jesus Christ.

Well, I'm sorry, but from now on, all toilets are out of bounds to guests.

Oh, what?

Well, hang on. What if I need to go?

Could use a garden. I'm not a dog, Neil.

Okay, I'd assumed it was a given, but I'll make it clear now just in case. No

one is to shit in my back garden.

That's it?

What? I'll tell my dad that Benji did a shit in the house. Did he?

Well, no, but if I say he did, we'll have to keep him outside.

Then I can wank freely without him judging me.

Your dad?

The dog.

I don't know what they had for Christmas dinner around Neil's house, but it

smelled like turkey stuffed with rotten eggs and pedigree chub. Well, he's

right. It's definitely blocked.

What's going on? Watch this.

What the fuck are you doing? This golf bat is perfect. It's exactly what we've

been looking for.

Oh, sorry, was that not clear?

Stop fucking vandalising my garden.

Oh, come on, Will. I thought that at first, but have a go. It's fun. Not for

me, it's not.

They're only daffodils. Fuck your little show-offs. Oh, look at me. I'm out

first. I'm all yellow.

Have you gone mental?

Just have a go. It's fun.

They go miles.

No. What are you going to do next? Tag up my bedroom?

Piss through my letterbox?

Can we?

No. Right, come on. We're going out again.

Come on.

Babysitting these three was exhausting, so I did what all good babysitters do.

Hit the drink and let them get on with it. Oh, Christ, I've got to sober up.

What am I going to tell my dad?

To leave your mum. She's a dog.

Fuck off.

Oh, yes. Nice.

I thought we did all easy overnight.

Nah, they grow back every day, don't they?

Or the bloke has replanted them at some effort and cost.

Nah, they're in pretty much the same place. They must have grown back.

Someone's replanted them, Neil.

I doubt it. They're flowers.

They grow. That's what they do. That's why no-one minds us smashing them up.

You know a lot about gardening.

You know, my dad used to shag dealer Smith, didn't he?

And plus, this is public ground anyway, so we can do what we like. No, it isn't.

This is someone's front garden.

Where's the fence then?

Nice. This isn't right. You shouldn't be doing this.

Oh, shut up for once. No-one cares, Will. Everyone does it. By the way, they

definitely don't. In your whole life, have you ever just done something

because it was a fucking laugh?

Look at you, hanging around the estate, drinking, smashing up people's gardens.

You're just a teenage pregnancy away from an ASBO.

Oh, sorry, neighbourhood watch.

Oh, come on, Will, it is a laugh. What would my mum say if she found out I was

involved? I know what she's saying at the moment. Do you?

Yep. Oh, Fergus, oh, Fergus, fuck me harder.

In the mouth, now quickly, get it in my arse, Fergus.

Fine, give it here, then.

By Jake, Dick Baldo.

See?

To be fair, that was brilliant.

Might go. No, one more.

Oi! Stay there, or I'm calling the police!

Run! Fuck off, you fat old chicks!

Well, that's not helping.

So I had become what I hated, but thanks to the beauty of alcohol, I couldn't

care less.

Here, what do you reckon this one'll do to a daffodil then, Si? I reckon it'll

smash the fuck out of it, Neil.

Nice. I might have to borrow it and head over to that bloke's place when the

flowers are grown back.

Oh, come on, Neil. Give the fat old shit one day off.

Yeah, or he'll call the police.

Ha! That was amazing, wasn't it? I mean, did you think for one second that would

scare me? Fucking daft-loving idiot.

Yes! Found it.

Will's mum's vibrator.

That's a rolling pin.

Oh, I've still got the smell.

It's a rolling pin. Right.

I've got some unfinished business to attend to.

Business pulling my cock with no dogs around.

Not in my mum's bed.

No, of course not.

Put that something.

No, Neil's going to be wanking in there. Yeah, found these in the wash basket.

Oh, yes, they still got that lovely arsey smell.

Game of Pro Evo and Shots for the Loser? What about your golf?

Oh, I'm a natural. Everyone says it. A couple more drinks won't make any

difference. Ah, the drink driver's charter.

Cheers.

The next morning, we were woken by a terrible banging. Either Jay was having

the most aggressive wank ever, or something even more worrying was

happening.

What's that?

Fucking hell, my head is killing me.

What's that noise?

I think there's someone at the front door.

It's a bit early, isn't it?

It's not that early.

What the fuck?

Shit! It's past nine o'clock. I should have been at golf an hour ago.

Well, I wouldn't leave just yet.

What do you mean? I'm already late.

Well, shall we find out who's trying to smash the door down while you head

outside?

Oh, fuck.

Who is it?

It's the bloke whose garden we destroyed.

What, the fat old shit?

Yes, except he's not fat. He looks fucking hard. I've got to get to golf.

I've got seven missed calls. My dad's going to go mental.

Fuck! Hide!

Has he gone? Oh, shit.

He's going to try the back door. So?

What if Neil's left it open again?

Oh, shit!

Morning. Neil, back door!

I locked it.

Neil, get down!

What? Oi!

Yep, that should afford him. He looks well angry. Shit, another missed call

from my dad.

What are we going to do? I know you're in there! Let's go back in the living

room. How's that gonna help? I just farted in here.

Oh, God, Neil, I'm in his wake.

It's like you're carrying it in your pants. The fuck's all the noise? We're

under attack from the daffodil bloke. What? He's basically correct. We're

being threatened.

Come out here like a man!

Does he know I'm here? I don't see how he could.

Good. I'm going back to bed, then.

Hey! I heard a banging.

Fucking Mrs Springett!

I know you're in there!

I saw your mate!

Come on, do some vandalism now, then. See? I told you it was vandalism. Oh, my

God, my dad is going to kill me. I think this guy might kill you first.

I know your mum.

Oh, shit, he knows your mum.

Everyone knows your mum. Not now, Neil.

I know you're in there.

I can see your feet.

Neil, I was getting cramped. Please, Will, you say something to him. See if

he'll just let me out. Are you insane?

Listen to him.

Please, mate, for my dad. This dog thing is massive for him. Go on, Will, what's

the worst he could do?

Hit me really hard. He won't do that. He won't. Please, mate.

God. Fine.

Now, sir. Come out here, you coward!

I think we should all take a breath, try and calm down.

You're telling me to calm down?

Calm down?

I'll smash the shit out of your garden and see how you like it! OK, I've got a

really bad hangover.

So if you aren't willing to have a sensible conversation, I'm just going to

shut the curtains.

Are you taking the moral fucking high ground?

Is that what you're doing? Okay, as I say, I'm going to close these now. You

think that's going to stop me? I'm closing them now. You think I give a

fuck? About to close.

You're a bunch of fucking vandals, and I call the police, but I want to deal with

you myself. And they're closed.

He's gone. I'll deal with a lot of you.

Nice one. That's your solution.

Do you have a better one? Oh, God. Oh, God. My dad is never, ever going to

forgive me. Anyone want any toast?

Um, yeah, all right.

You alright, mate?

What's up?

Just got a text from my dad.

He's had Benji put down.

He said once they start shitting indoors, it's basically the end anyway.

Kindest thing to do.

What have I done?

I'll never wank again!

Come on, mate, you will.

That'll prove to be the police.

Oh, shit.

Is it, then? It's worse than that.

It's my mum.

It had been an interesting few days.

I'd squashed my first squirrel, found out that I had a beak, and seen evidence

that Jay and Neil were surprisingly creative.

The only good news was that having spent the weekend being fucked by a ginger

stranger, my mum was dumped immediately because, and I quote, he couldn't be

dealing with a problem child.

Fucking Mrs Sprint!

You keep living sad, it's more than just lies You're ever so cruel, and I'll be

your fool if you love me I'm ever so shy, you're ever so

shy, we're ever so shy