Original subtitles

For a man with an internet history as exotic as Simon's, emergency family

meetings were never good news.

I've been waiting for you, Simon.

Sorry, I was busy. I have a life too, you know. And what's so important when

you have to have a meeting, like businessmen or something?

Well, I don't really know where to start.

My company are making a lot of people redundant.

I've managed to keep my job, but it means moving to Swansea. Where's that?

Is it far?

It's in Wales.

You must have heard of Swansea, Simon.

I haven't, and I'm not moving to fucking Wales.

Hey, mind your language. Simon, I know it's a lot to take in, but please try

and stay calm.

It's been an incredibly tough decision for us to make. I mean, I would have

been out of a job.

Oh, it's all about you, isn't it? What about me? What about my friends? My

other relationships?

What?

And my exams?

I mean, one minute you're all like, revise, revise, revise.

The next, you're moving me to Swansea. We've spoken to the examination board

and you'll be able to sit the same exams in Swansea. You'll just do them at a

local college.

I'm not going.

How's that set your fucking plans?

I'll get a flat with Jay. I'm 18, you can't stop me.

Me and Jay will get a flat and Andrew can come live with us.

My thanks.

Boys, I promise I'll make this work for us all.

I love you both so much.

Oh, that's all right then.

Well done!

Brilliant. You've effectively ended my life. In fact, why not go the whole hog

and just shoot me? Or better still, have me taken to the vets and secretly put

down, just like you did with Patch!

But after he'd slept on it, Simon was even more unreasonable.

He's a total selfish wanker. I don't understand why he doesn't just get

another job.

It's not like he's even well paid.

He's in his fucking 40s. His life is practically over.

What is Swansea? Is it an animal?

It's a place.

It don't sound near. It's in Wales.

Oh, mate, they say it's well grim up north.

Yes, they do, but Wales isn't up north, Jay.

Well, wherever it is, Michael fucking Palin, it's not round here, is it? No.

But on the plus side, I've heard Swansea's quite nice.

Really? Who from?

A friend of my gran's. Right, is that supposed to make me feel better? It's

all I've got, I'm afraid.

That's pretty much it for me and Carly, then.

Oh, I don't know. Maybe you can still not have a relationship long distance.

Yeah, good one.

So can we have a crack at her, then? No.

Oh, go on, don't be a dick. I'd love to have a go on that. Think about that

lovely snatch.

Fuck off, Neil! Just fuck off! I'm having a nightmare here!

All right, calm down. You're not the only one having problems.

Really? What problems do you have, Neil? Bent old man, wants to fuck home's

sister, mum did a legger. No, none of them.

I think I'm going to be a dad.

Neil, you have to fuck a girl for that to happen. I know. I did it with this

bird from Asda and now she's pregnant.

Congratulations.

Are you serious?

No fucking way.

So you're not a virgin anymore?

Don't think so.

Nice one, mate.

I knew you'd lose your feed plates for all these sad pricks.

Welcome to the Shaggers Club. Where only 50% of the members have had sex.

Let's back up 30 seconds. This is very serious.

I have a couple of questions, Neil. Yeah? Well, what does it feel like?

It's all right. All right.

Anything else?

No-one's expecting D.H. Lawrence, Neil, but did you think anything other than,

this is all right?

My legs ached. I give up. This is a big deal. How did it happen?

Well, we was both on a cheese counter and she was being, like, well saucy and

that. And then we went back to hers in our lunch break and did it and now she's

pregnant. How romantic.

Are you sure she's pregnant?

Yeah, she texted me. Look.

Did the test. It's positive. Thought you should know. Two dots and a diagonal

line. Worried smiley.

Dear God. Why didn't you use protection?

Well, she told me she couldn't have any more kids.

Any more?

Jesus Christ. How old is she, Neil? I don't know. Pretty old.

And have you told anyone else about this?

No, I mean, I can't really talk to my dad, can I? What, cos he's never seen a

woman's fanny?

Shut up, he's seen my mum's. Well, Dad don't care. Everyone's seen your mum's.

Fuck off!

Till she ran off. I think you need to talk to Gilbert about this. For all his

flaws, he's not a bad bloke. And his role as head of sixth is pastoral as

well as tutorial.

He's what?

It's his job.

Then I pushed it in a bit, then out a bit, then in a bit, then my legs ached,

then out again, then back in, and then it went off and now she's pregnant.

OK, I think I get the picture, Sutherland. Cool.

Look, isn't this exactly the sort of thing that Twitter or MySpace were

invented for?

No, sir. I was thinking about writing to the Daily Star's problem page, you know,

the one with the photos, but it takes a week to find out the advice.

OK. And this encounter, did it take place on the school premises or with a

fellow pupil?

No.

Good.

Well, what I think you should do is turn round, get out of my office, and we'll

pretend this conversation never happened.

All right.

Cheers for that.

But, sir, what about your duty of care?

Listen, Mackenzie, the Sutherland's managed to pass his genes on. It may be

a looming disaster for mankind, but it is not my mess to clean up.

But what about the oath?

Sorry to disappoint, Mackenzie. Teachers don't start each day by swearing

allegiance to the education fairies under a photo of the Queen.

It's not so much a calling these days as a graveyard for the unlucky and the

unambitious.

Between you and me.

The only reason anyone teaches these days is because they've taken a more

relaxed view on police checks in recent years.

Goodbye, Mackenzie.

They say the art of teaching is aiding discovery, and Mr Gilbert had helped me

discover that he was a wanker. Simon.

God, my mum just told me about you moving away.

Oh, yeah, it's basically the end of my life. It's so weird, I can't imagine us

being that far apart.

Hmm. We're going to miss the bus.

Anyway, I've got to go. I'll see you soon. No, I'll come with you. I'm just

waiting for my change. It's £8.

Where's my change?

Manor's. I'll see you.

I suppose I just always thought that we might... You know, we might... We have

to go.

I've got to go. I'm sorry.

I'll see you soon, Simon.

What? We might what?

Say it! Come on!

Make love?

Was it make love?

Carly! Make love!

Fucking change!

Thank you!

So it had finally happened.

Carly had made Simon's brain explode.

That stupid, ugly bitch just ruined it for me with Carly. What, she's been

controlling your personality for the last 18 years? Brilliant, yeah, good

one. Anyway, Simon, I've been thinking. We should do something for you before

you leave. What, like give him a makeover, sort his hair out and that?

Could do. I was thinking more along the lines of a camping trip to the

countryside.

Pubs, long walks, no parents, no girls, just the four of us, the lads, a tent

and a load of beers.

Sounds like a bent version of Brokeback Mountain.

Which would be a heterosexual version.

Is this like a posh show's tradition?

Did your mates do the same thing for you when you left Hogwarts?

Um, no, they didn't. Oh, right.

Well, I'm up for it.

It'd do me a lot of good to get away for a bit, you know, out in the country, get

my head straight.

Should bring your old man along. See if you can get him straight as well. Fuck

off. I don't know, Will. I don't think I'll be much company.

Oh, come on, Si. It'd be a laugh.

Although last time I went to the country, I had a bit of bother. What,

from locals?

No, a cow.

It charged me, so I had to knock it out.

One punch.

Nice. I had to leg it, though, cos this mate saw what was going on. And no word

of a lie, they stood up on their hind legs and started firing milk at me from

their tits.

Udders? Yeah, there were loads of them. Right.

What do you reckon, Si? Fancy a weekend punching cattle?

No. No.

I've got two weeks left here and I'd rather spend them trying to finally get

together with Carly than hanging around with you lot talking shit about cows and

fucking camping.

I'll put you down as a maybe then.

That night at 2am, I was lucky enough to be woken by a call from a steaming drunk

Simon. Will, it's me, Simon.

Yes, I know.

Man, you were right.

I've got to make Carly believe in me.

Make the sort of gesture she'll never forget.

That doesn't sound like me.

Are you drunk?

I'm going in.

This might be my last chance to see her. To kiss her.

To maybe make love to her. Right, fine, I'm coming to get you as long as you

promise never to say make love again.

So like a superhero, I went off to Simon's rescue.

A superhero in slippers and a dressing gown.

Simon!

Simon! Please!

Oh, Christ.

Carly, it's me, Simon.

What was it you wanted to say?

Was it about making love?

No. Shh.

Sleep. What's happening?

He's just your little fucking mouth.

You're not my daddy.

Oh, fuck!

Mummy!

Daddy!

Simon's intention was pure Romeo and Juliet.

Unfortunately, the execution was pure crime watch.

Yeah. Cheers, Steve.

No, there's no need to press charges.

Don't worry.

Sorry again.

You're not going to shout at me, are you, Dad?

My head really hurts. No, I'm not going to shout.

I think we need to have a talk, though.

I know this move's stressful for you, and you might feel a little crazy.

Yeah. But you can't go touching up children.

Not now, not ever. Not kiddies, Si.

Oh, God, no.

No, no, it wasn't that at all. I got the wrong bedroom.

I wanted to touch Carly. Really?

Yes, yes.

Oh, thank Christ.

Thank God.

I've been googling chemical castration all morning.

Well, I think you need to forget about her for a while. You go near that house,

her dad's going to fuck you up. His words, not mine.

Oh, God.

Maybe you got your nans for the weekend.

Will wanted to go camping.

Camping? Yeah.

Sounds good.

Healthy. Outdoors.

No children around.

Dad, I've loved her for ages.

I don't know what to do.

I totally understand, mate.

There was a girl I was crazy about once. Really?

Yeah. She was gorgeous. Funny.

My best friend in many ways.

But nothing ever happened.

As much as I wanted it to.

Because you never told her?

No, she was frigid.

Yeah, her knickers were about as wet as August in the Sahara. Oh.

Then your mother came along. She was a real tomcat, let me tell you.

Didn't take me long to forget about the ice queen with your mum around, if you

get me.

Yeah.

Get it all up, mate.

Simon's choices were simple.

Stay home and lose more of his stomach lining hearing about his mum's high sex

drive or take us camping.

As we're getting near, I thought I should run through the itinerary for the

weekend. What's an itinerary? It's Will's way of taking the fun out of

everything? No, it's just a schedule of what we'll get up to and when we'll be

doing it. Right, item one, get your shit off my side of the car.

It's not shit, it's essentials, and I bought it for everyone to make the trip

more enjoyable.

Oh, right, yeah, Monopoly.

That's going to make it a proper lad's weekend.

All we need is beer and johnnies, and I've got plenty of both.

Why have you bought a load of johnnies?

In case I get lucky.

We're camping by a lake near a wood. What are you hoping to pull, a fish or

an owl? Listen, all these country birds love a bit of big city cock.

You're not from the big city.

Anywhere with a train station and the Morrisons counts as the city to them.

Neil, look at the map, please. Where is it?

Um, it's around here somewhere, like next left or something.

And that's what Google Maps says, is it? The next left or something? Oh, sorry,

mate. My head's a mess.

What if I have to go to the birth? Can you imagine how grim that'll be,

watching that baby getting squeezed out of her arse? Right.

I've got some news, Neil.

Oh, here we are, Si. Turn in here.

Oh, Jesus Christ, it stinks.

Isn't there a pig farm, Neil?

No, sorry, mate, that was me. It just slipped out.

Oh, my fucking knee! I can't believe the smell of your arse! I can fucking see

it. It's like a brown mist.

Despite Neil's anxious bowels burning our eyes and choking our lungs, we'd

made it.

I'd researched this place online and it's certainly delivered.

Secluded, remote, beautiful.

So where do we shit?

What? When we need to do a shit, where do we shit?

Hang on, he's right.

Where are we going to shit?

Well, usually you place the trench at least 20 yards away from site.

Downstream, of course.

What trench? The toilet trench.

Where you put the toilets?

No, where you do a toilet.

I'm not shitting in a trench.

You've gone mental. I'm not going anywhere near a hole filled with your

shit. No, we each get our own trench. Oh, that's alright then. We're camping

surrounded by shit.

No, no one is shitting in a trench.

We'll have to drive to a pub or something. Shit there. Good idea.

Agreed. That's decided then. Write that down, Will. I am too.

Could do. Or you could remember to shit in the pub when we're there.

Right, let's get this tent up. I need to go now, though. What?

Just hold it in.

I can't. I get all emotional.

We only just got here, Neil. Camp first, poo second.

I don't think I can. I'm honestly getting teary. It feels like it's trying

to push its way back up into my stomach. Oh, I sort of need one now, too.

What about that service station we passed?

Oh, God, the snake's out of the cave.

Fine, everyone back in the car.

So our camping trip was delayed while Neil left what he described as King

Kong's finger in the welcome break toilets.

Neil genuinely felt better about life after unloading a massive poo.

And now the car was unloaded, so did I. Right, first we need to clear the

ground, make sure the site is safe, and then put up our tent.

Oh, fuck that. Let's just crack open the beers and build a fucking massive fire.

You can't just build a fire. It takes preparation.

I mean, have we even asked the landowner's permission?

Will. I didn't come here for a refresher course in the countryside code. I just

want to get pissed and have a laugh. I won't be able to do any of this in

Wales. What, because there's no field?

No, because I won't have any mates.

Oh, you won't need mates.

Welsh birds are total filth. Are they? Yeah.

Pretty much all British porn stars are Welsh. And most of them don't even get

paid. They just do it for cock.

Oh, OK, made-up sluts. Now I'm glad I'm going to Swansea.

Oh, fucking hell, Swansea.

Fine, Simon, look.

If you really want, I'll build you a fire now. You lot put the tent up, I'll

go and find some suitable wood and kindling. All right, R. Kaler.

But remember, fire is an element.

It must be respected.

Camping is all about self-reliance and teamwork, and I knew I could rely on

myself to create the perfect camp, and my team to fuck it up.

What the fuck have you done?! I will.

Fancy a sausage?

Calm down, I just got it going. I didn't even need a fire gaze badge.

No, just some petrol. You put petrol on it?

Wait a minute, is that my fold-up table on the fire?

That's my picnic basket!

I thought you said look for stuff to burn.

What? Burn fucking wood, not my stuff!

Oh, fucking hell, why have you done that?

Look, someone had to take charge of this weekend. It was going to be all Monopoly

and shitting in trenches.

Look, come on, sit down, have a beer, have a sausage, just chill.

I'll chill when you stop burning my fucking possessions.

Oh, I thought they were for everyone.

Yes, for everyone to use, not to burn.

What are you doing?

The fire's going down.

Stop burning my things.

Oh, right, I forgot.

Cheers. We were barely an hour from home, but somehow that meant that

burning my possessions was not only okay, but hilarious.

Oh, come on, we're sorry.

It was just a joke.

We'll do whatever you want to cheer you up. Anything you like.

Game of Monopoly?

Oh, fuck off.

Apart from that. Look, if you want to play a game, I've got a proper game. Not

a shit one.

No, thinking about it, you lot might be too pussy to play.

It's not that game you used to play with your weird neighbour in his shed, is it?

Well, that never happened. Yeah, you told me about it years ago, just after

he moved away.

No, I never. Shut up, you knob.

Right, to start with, you all have to swap phones.

Now what?

Now you text someone in their phone book. So, like, you've got Will's phone,

yeah? So when you text someone, they'll think it's from him.

So does that mean I have to write it all posh and, like, all hurdy-wurdy-durdy?

Nah, the only rule is that you can write whatever you like and no-one can stop

you. I just want to say, for the record, there's no way anything good can come

out of this. Ready, go.

I've only got five numbers on my phone and three of them are you lot, so do

your worst.

Well, as long as one of the others is your mum, you're still in trouble. Neil,

come on. That's too much.

I think that is literally the point of the game. Oh, fuck.

Right, guys, finished?

That's it, send them.

Right, so I wrote from Simon's phone to Carly, Carly, I love you from the bottom

of my cock.

Oh. The thought of leaving you is making me cry.

Better. And I'm using those tears as lube to wank with.

Right. Don't worry, Si. I texted Jay's dad and wrote, Dad, I'm just thinking

about you.

Oh, that's all right. I'm in the bath and I'm hard.

Fucking hell.

Neil, fairly standard to Will's mum. Mum, it's been 17 years, but I'd love to

have another go on your big old tits. Oh, no.

Then I'd like to smash in your back door's brackets anus.

So it'll come up that I sent her a text, she'll think, oh good, he's just let me

know he got there safely, and then she'll read that?

Yep. Right then, Si, what did you send to, I presume, Neil's dad?

You presume wrong.

I've gone for a slightly different flavour.

I've written to the soon-to-be mother of his child.

Oh, what?

At least that's who I guess Saucy Asda Karen is.

It is.

Good, because I've written, Karen, I love you, and love that you are to be

the mother of my child.

Marry me?

Fucking hell.

Brilliant. I only met her a month ago. She smells of cheese most of the time.

What, because of all the knobs she's had?

Oh, God, I thought coming out here would take me mind off it. But the

countryside's really boring, isn't it? It's just a load of fields and rivers

and that, and they don't do nothing. They just sit there. It's not like

London Dungeons where people jump out at you. He's right, it is boring.

Shall we go back?

Oh, no, come on.

We could go for a swim. Skinny dipping?

Yeah, you're right. I'd probably be a bit gay.

Yeah. Well, there's always Monopoly.

Fucking hell, fine.

As long as I can be the dog.

Why?

Reminds me of Benji.

This was great.

Camping, playing board games around the fire as the sun went down. It was like I

was back in Cub Scouts, but without the unpleasantness.

Ha! Park Lane with a hotel.

That's 1,500 quid, you only top hat.

Can I pay you after I pass go? I'm nearly there. Nope. Well, will you take

one of my properties then?

Oh, this is impossible. I can barely see.

I've not been able to see anything for fucking hours.

Let's just stop. Okay, we'll call it a draw.

Fuck off! Just because I'm winning and all you've got is stations.

I'm happy to call it a draw.

Of course you are! Because you were out four hours ago anyway, you fucking

idiot. You don't think I'm dumb, but I've got street smarts. You've got a

woman from Asda pregnant in your lunch hour. I'll build another fire.

It's too dark to collect wood and you've burned everything I own. Well, fine,

I'll... I'll get Si's car and shine the lights over here.

Here you are, then.

This was embarrassing. I hadn't lost a game of Monopoly since I was seven, and

yet I was about to be beaten by Jay, a man who took pride in the fact he

couldn't count to 100.

He really wants to win, doesn't he? I never knew he was so competitive.

I can't get enough of these sausages.

I love them raw in the middle.

Right, sorted.

Now, you owe me 1,500 quid. Jay, my fucking car!

I'm raped! Oh, shit, yeah.

Stop it!

Jay, help!

All right, all right.

It's locked.

Jay, throw me the keys.

I gave them to you. No, you didn't. Yeah, I did.

No, you fucking didn't. Oh, brilliant. Well, someone's gone and lost their

fucking keys then. Yes, you.

You've lost them. You must have locked them in the car.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

We'll have to smash a window. Fucking hell, Jay, you're paying for that.

It's not my fault.

It's entirely your fault.

I always like my car like that. Yours must be different. It's shitter for one.

Thanks, Neil. My old man was here. He'd be able to get into it in two seconds

flat. He used to jack Ferraris for the Mafia. How is that total bullshit

helpful? OK, you two hold it. We'll go and find something to smash a window

with. Oi, why do me and Neil have to hold the fucking car?

Well, obviously, because you two are the strongest.

It's true, we are. Fucking hell, why are there no rocks? It's the countryside!

Why aren't there any fucking rocks?

What are we going to smash the window with?

Jay's face?

Oh, my arm's hurt.

I don't know why they're bothering to get that rock.

The way I look at it, it's inevitable that the car's going to go into the

lake. I suppose it's nature. You can't fight nature.

Exactly.

It's going in anyway. My arm's hurt. We might as well just let go.

Do you think Simon will be annoyed? How can he be? It's logical.

We can't stop it. We are stopping it a bit now.

It's inevitable, Neil. Trust me.

We'll let go after three, all right?

Gotcha.

One, two... No!

Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!

Why did you do that?

You said smash a window.

No!

You wankers!

It's alright, Si. We'll just wait for the morning and rescue it when the

tide's out. It's so fucking late, Neil, the tide isn't going out!

I've wasted my life hanging around with you fucking morons! I can't wait to move

to Swansea! I fucking hate you! Fuck off!

Fuck off!

Come on, Si.

Come out of the water and dry off. I'm sure I'll think of something.

You never think of anything!

You've just got an accent that makes us think you're clever, but you're not!

You're just as much of a fucking idiot as these two!

A bit harsh.

You wankers!

Total, total wankers! Oh, God!

Oh, God! God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Do you want a lager, Si?

Yes.

Shit, I did have the keys.

Probably wouldn't mention it. So Simon's shitty yellow Fiat was gone forever.

But on the bright side, at least Jay didn't beat me at Monopoly.

Which do you think burns better, Si? My rucksack or my sleeping bag? Nice try,

but this is now officially the worst weekend ever.

Let's just go home. How?

Call your dad, Si.

If you think about it, it's sort of his fault we're here.

Can't face it. He's going to go ballistic about the car.

What about your old man, Jay?

Nah, he's out.

Private poker tournament with Danny Dyer and the Krays. Aren't the Krays dead?

No, that's just a cover story because they've done a bunk from prison.

They rolled up in one of my dad's warehouses.

Of course.

Oh, looks like your dad's taken a break from that made-up poker tournament, Jay.

He's just texted you back. Oh, shit, what does he say?

Um, you're sick, son.

Your mum was right about sending you to that shrink.

What's he on about, a fucking wanker?

Talking bollocks as usual.

You've got a text too, Neil.

It's in your burb, maybe you should read it.

Oh, thank you, God, thank you.

She said yes to the marriage proposal, then. Much better. It says, you dopey

prick, not pregnant, tested positive for... What's that say, Will?

Chlamydia. Yes, get in!

What's chlamydia?

Well, how shall I put this, Neil? You no longer have a child on the way, but you

do have an STD.

I've got an STD!

Yes, an STD!

Woo!

Go on then, check mine.

Oh, it's from Carly. Let's have a little look then.

No!

Well?

Brilliant.

Shall we go to bed then?

What did it say?

Simon was never this cagey. When it came to Carly, he normally wore his heart on

his sleeve and his boner in his pants.

Maybe he had other things on his mind.

So we had a light all along then?

Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot about that one.

So my car went in the lake.

For no reason.

I'm upset too, Si. I got my first handjob in that car. Who's going to want

to give me an handjob when I'm a dad?

Your dad?

You're not going to be a dad, remember, Neil?

Oh, yeah.

He'll probably still give you one anyway.

Look, even if we did get it out, mate, I doubt it would work anyway.

I think the engine's flooded.

Is that supposed to be funny, Jay?

You'll get it on the insurance, I reckon.

Yeah, I've got a third-party fire and your mate's throwing it into a lake, so

it should be fine.

How was the trench?

I had to wipe my arse with leaves.

Jesus. And I think there were some ants in there, so I now literally have ants

in my pants.

And soil.

And some earwigs.

Hey, do you remember that first time we slept in a tent in my back garden?

Yeah, we had to come in the house about midnight because Jay got scared. Yeah, I

was scared that Neil's dad was going to come out and bum us. And on that

familiar note, it's goodnight.

Sorry about your car, Si.

Doesn't matter, it was a shit car anyway.

Thanks for the send-off.

I suppose when I'm away from you lot. Jesus, that stinks, Neil. Is that a

fart? Nah, burp. It ain't great, though. I think it's them sausages.

Whatever, goodnight.

Well, I'll get the fucking light then, shall I?

Night, gay lords.

Sorry, I was wondering, when you're gone... Yeah?

..what do you want us to do with Will? Like, look after him and stuff?

I'm not a stray cat, Neil.

Yeah, but you do shit in a hole in the ground.

Brilliant. I just worry about you, that's all. I think I'll be fine.

Goodnight.

Thanks, though, Neil.

Oh, fucking hell!

It's in my hair!

I think it's the sausage.

I've got to get out. I've got to get out. Oh, God, the smell. Oh, it always

makes you puke. Don't puke in here. Oh, no.

Oh, you have.

I feel well.

The smell.

Oh, God, the double puke. Get the fucking tent open, Jay!

I can't find the tip! I can't find the tip! Oh, no!

Great.

Oh, my mum's texted me back. She up for some backdoor action, then?

No, it said, I love you too.

It's a template.

Well, if she is up for it, Neil should get a bummer, because it was his text

that got her frothy.

True.

Obviously she's not up for it.

How do you know?

Yeah, does it say that specifically?

Specifically. Are you saying she only likes it in her axe wound? Seriously,

we've got a long walk ahead of us. I'm covered in puke.

Can we just drop the mum stuff?

I'd like to drop your mum stuff.

Oh, we can't.

What?