All language subtitles for Fawlty.Towers.S01E05.720p.BluRay.x264-SHORTBREHD

Come on.

Is it so difficult for you to start?
It's so basic.

If you don't go,
there's little point in having you.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Just pull yourself together, all right?
Make an effort.

- Come on. Now, look.
- MANUEL: Mr Fawlty.

Mr Fawlty, Mr Fawlty.

- Telephone.
- What?

Telephone. Telephone.

Where's Sybil?

Qué?

Where's Sybil?

Where's the bill?

No, no, no. Not the bill,
I own the place, I don't pay bills.

Where's my wife?

- She not here.
- She is there!

Er...

Oh, never mind. Never mind.

Right, leave it to me, I'll do it.
I'll mend the car, I'll answer the telephone.

Then you can chain me up,
and I'll wash the windows.

- In here, in here.
- Yes, I know!

- This way.
- Yes, yes!

I know it's this way. I own the place.

Hello, Fawlty Towers.

Oh, André! Thank you for calling.

Kurt's marvellous.

We're absolutely delighted with him.
Really, André, he's wonderful!

This, Basil's wife. This, Basil.
This, smack on head.

- Just one moment, André. Basil?
- Yes, dear?

- Have you taken the car in yet?
- Yes, I'm dealing with it, dear.

You're not trying to do it yourself?

Oh, have you seen this mark, dear?

- Did you hear what I said?
- Yes, I did. Bit of a scratch.

Take it into the garage.

Yes, just having a look at it, dear.

Sorry, André. Where was I?

Yes, he's the best chef we've ever had.

We can't thank you enough
for finding him for us.

Look, can you come have dinner on Sunday?

There's something we want
to ask your advice about.

Okay, lovely. See you then, then.

- Hello, Polly.
- Can you come and have a drink, Mrs Fawlty?

- I've just sold a sketch.
- Really? I'd love to.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Kurt, André can come on Sunday.

- I thought you were taking the car in?
- Hmm?

- Are you at those again?
- I just took one, dear.

You've had enough of those, Basil.
Will you deal with the car, please?

- Good, Mr Fawlty?
- Superb, Kurt.

- For you, Mr Fawlty?
- Thank you, Polly.

- Are you going to do the car?
- In a moment, my little piranha fish.

- What's this for?
- I've just sold a sketch.

What, for money?

I bought it, Mr Fawlty.
She's very talented.

- Oh, no, Polly. I won't.
- Oh, come on.

No, thank you.

- I bought it to thank you.
- No, honestly.

- Don't you like it?
- Too much, but not when I'm working.

You drink it for me, Manuel.

Well, cheerio!

- Cheerio, Basil.
- Well, that smelt nice.

Here it is, Mr Fawlty.

She's really got something, you know.

- Really?
- Well worth 50p, anyway.

Yes, do you win a bun
if you guess what it is, or something?

- It's Manuel.
- What?

- It's me.
- Where?

Manuel is my friend.
We're good friends, eh?

Oh, sí.

Yes. Very modern, very socialist.
Something to remember him by when he goes.

You still here, Basil?

No, I went a couple of minutes ago, dear.
But I expect I'll be back shortly.

- Oh.
- No, no, Manuel! Look!

Like this.

Oh, I like that. Will you do me one?

Really? Of Manuel?

Yes. Look nice on Basil's bedside table.

Two in a day.
That's as many as Van Gogh sold in a lifetime.

But he didn't have Manuel as a model, eh?

This is wonderful.

I told you, he's one of the best.

He's almost as good as you, André.

It's absolutely divine, Basil.
Go on, have a bit.

- 'Tis good, isn't it?
- Oh, listen to him.

The only place I've ever seen him eat
is your restaurant, André.

Now he's stuffing it away like a hamster.

- Really, Sybil.
- We're going to buy him a great big wheel

to run around in when he's got a moment,
or he'll get like a big, bad-tempered tomato.

I believe we were discussing
the gourmet evening, dear.

Do you know, André,

- burst his zip this morning.
- Oh!

- What's the matter, darling?
- You're embarrassing André!

No, I'm embarrassing you. Look at that!

I'd better have a word with the guests.
Why don't you have another vat of wine, dear?

Good evening, Major. Enjoying your soup?

Tasted a bit off to me, Fawlty.

It's made with fresh mushrooms, Major.

Ah! That would explain it.

Good evening.
Everything to your satisfaction?

- Yes, thank...
- Well, er...

- I don't like the chips.
- Sorry?

The chips are awful.

Oh, dear. What's wrong with them, then?

They're the wrong shape,
and they're just awful.

He gets everything cooked
the way he likes it at home.

Ah, does he?

Yes, and it's better
than this pig's garbage.

Now, Ronald!

These eggs look like you laid them.

Ronald!

- Look here, old chap...
- Shut up! Leave him alone!

He's very clever, rather highly strung.

Yes, yes, he should be.

- Haven't you any proper chips?
- These are proper French fried potatoes.

The chef is Continental.

Couldn't you get an English one?

- Why don't you eat one or two, dear?
- They're the wrong shape.

What shape do you usually have?
Mickey Mouse shape? Smarties shape?

Amphibious landing craft shape?
Poke in the eye shape?

- God, you're dumb.
- Oh, now!

Is there something
we can get you instead, sonny?

I'd like some bread and salad cream.

To eat? Well, there's the bread,
and there's the mayonnaise.

I said "salad cream", stupid.

We don't have any salad cream.
The chef made this freshly this morning.

What a dump.

- This is very good.
- He likes salad cream.

- That's puke, that is.
- At least it's fresh puke.

- How dare you!
- Well, he said it.

May I ask why you don't have proper
salad cream? Most restaurants...

Well, the chef usually buys it
only on special occasions, you know.

Gourmet nights, and so on.

But when he's got a bottle, ah,
he's a genius with it.

He can unscrew the cap like Robert Carrier.
It's a treat to watch.

And then right on the plate!
Never on the walls! Magic!

Mind you, he's a wizard with the tin opener, too.
He's got a Pulitzer Prize for that.

He can have the stuff in the saucepan
before you can say "haute cuisine".

You name it, he'll heat it up
and scrape it off the pan for you.

Skill like that isn't picked up overnight.

Still, I'll tell him to
get some salad cream.

You never know when Henry Kissinger
is going to drop in, do you?

Oh, sorry!

Nice man.

No, no, seriously.
I think it's a very good idea.

- You do, really?
- I promise you.

People around here are getting
more and more keen on good food.

Well, so much for tonight's guests.
Ignorant rabble.

- There's always a few, Mr Fawlty.
- Not on gourmet night, there won't be.

- None of these proles.
- Basil!

Well!

- André thinks Thursday nights would be best.
- Thursdays?

I think so.

And on all the other nights
we'll just have a big trough of baked beans

and garnish it with a couple of dead dogs.

- That's settled then.
- Good.

I'm very pleased for Kurt, too.

It'll be good for him to have
something special to do.

- I'd like to have a word with him, do you mind?
- Of course not.

I'll get the menus printed on Monday.

- Polly can do the menus.
- No, she can't.

- Yes, she can.
- No, she can't.

- Yes, she can.
- No, she can't.

Yes, she can.

- No...
- She can.

You can write the advertisement
in the Echo.

Only, don't make it too toffee nosed, Basil.
We don't want to put people off.

I just want to keep the
riffraff away, dear.

Well, good luck, my friend.

It's good to have you down here.

- Thank you for, well, you know.
- Don't mention it.

Nice to have met you, Manuel.

He's my friend.

One night I cook you both paella.

Okay. And, Kurt, mmm...

You don't trust me?

- Ciao.
- Ciao!

Manuel, together you and I make
Fawlty Towers famous for its cooking.

- Qué?
- Excellent, tip-top, famoso!

Oh, you're are so cute.

Manuel.

Oh!

Get a clean one.

Is clean now.

Is dirty now.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Do you like the menu, Mr Fawlty?
- No, I don't.

- Oh, good.
- What?

Thank you. Thank you so much.

Give it to me. Give it to me.

Thank you.

Well, Basil, guess who just called
to cancel at 12 minutes past seven.

- Who?
- The Coosters.

- What, all four?
- Marvellous, isn't it?

Ach! What did they say?

One of them's ill.

Well, let's hope it's nothing trivial.

Do you realise there are four people
at our grand opening dinner?

- Never mind.
- Never mind?

There's four people, Basil.
Shall we feed them in the kitchen?

But think who those four are.
Colonel and Mrs Hall, both JPs,

and Lionel Twitchen,
one of Torquay's leading Rotarians.

- That'll put us on the map.
- He's this year's treasurer, dear.

I should have never let you write that advert.
Fancy putting, "No riffraff".

When you're presenting haute cuisine,

you don't want the working class
sticking its nose in it.

Everything all right? Where's Kurt?

He and Manuel are getting the wine
from the cellar.

Ah, this is what it's all about.

You two, you're supposed to be in your rooms!
You're not allowed down here tonight.

- Remember?
- Ooh, doesn't it look pretty?

What are you cooking?

I'll send you up a menu
with your bread and cheese. Now get out!

- Basil, they're here.
- What?

The Halls are here.

- Go to your rooms!
- The Halls!

Mr Fawlty! Mr Fawlty!

I very upset!

Not now, Manuel. Later!

Well, when I went for my jog this morning,
I thought it was going to be pretty warm.

But in the event, of course,
it turned out to be pretty cool, really.

Er, then it began to cloud up this afternoon,
quite contrary to the weather forecast, naturally.

And I shouldn't be a bit surprised
if we get a spot of rain tonight.

Still, it's been a lovely
summer, hasn't it?

- Oh, yes.
- Ah, Colonel! How delightful to see you again.

- Sorry?
- How delightful to see you again.

We met last year at the golf club
dinner dance, you may remember.

No, I don't.

Ah, fine, we didn't talk for long.
Just, "Good evening," really, you know.

A blink of the eye and you would've missed it.
As indeed you did.

Quite understandably.

Sorry? What? Hmm?

Well, er, how's that
lovely daughter of yours?

She's dead.

I like your suit, isn't that super,
the way those stripes go up and down?

It's really super!
How much did that cost, then?

Who are you?
I mean, I don't know your name!

- What is it?
- What?

My name.

Oh, this is my husband, Basil Fawlty.

- That's it!
- What?

- Ah! How do you do?
- How do you do?

- And may I introduce my wife?
- She just introduced you.

- Oh, what a coincidence.
- Yes.

Well, I don't believe you know my wife.

- Dead?
- Yes.

May I introduce Mrs Hall?

Oh, sorry! Didn't see you down there.
Don't get up.

What would you like to
drink, Mrs Small... Hall!

Yes, a short, or...

Sherry! How about a sherry?

- A sherry, lovely.
- Oh, good.

Large, or not quite so large?

Two, small and dry.

- Oh, I wouldn't say that.
- What?

- I don't know.
- Two small, dry sherries.

Oh, I see what you mean. I'm sorry!

(BELL RINGING)

Ah, Mr and Mrs Twitchen, good evening.

- Welcome to Fawlty Towers.
- Good evening.

How very au fait of you to come
to our little culinary soiree this evening.

Only too glad to support something new
in Torquay.

Such an unusual idea.
I do hope it works out.

- Well, we have our hopes.
- Mr Fawlty?

Ah, Polly!
Would you take Mrs Twitchen's coat, please?

- Yes, of course.
- Thank you so much.

- Now, would you care to...
- Mr Fawlty?

- Yes?
- Can I have a word with you?

Uh, yes. Oh, this is Polly.
She will be serving you later this evening.

- Er...
- Well?

- It's Kurt.
- Yes?

He's potted...

- the shrimps.
- What?

- He's potted the shrimps.
- "Shrimps"?

We're not having shrimps tonight, Polly.

- Now...
- He's sauced...

- the herrings.
- What are you on about?

He's pickled the onions,
and he's smashed the eggs in his cups!

- Under the table.
- Excuse me.

- Have you been drinking?
- No, not me!

Will you behave yourself!

I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

Er, would you care for a...
Will you stop that? Please pull yourself together.

Now may I offer you a
little apéritif before...

(POLLY EXCLAIMING)

Sorry, a bit of cotton.

May I offer you a little apéritif while you
make up your mind what you'd like for dinner?

- That's very kind of you. Lotte?
- A tomato juice, please.

- Mr Twitchen?
- Tomato juice for me, thank you.

Ah, good! Oh, Colonel.
Colonel and Mrs Hall.

May I introduce Mr and Mrs...

- Have you met?
- No, no, we haven't.

- Have you?
- No.

- Oh, good. What would you like to drink then?
- What?

To drink.

- I didn't catch the name.
- Oh, you didn't catch it.

- What a rotten bit of luck.
- Well?

Fine, thank you. And you?

No, no, we still don't know the name.

Oh, Fawlty, Basil Fawlty.

No, no, theirs!

Oh, theirs! So sorry!
I thought you meant yours!

My, it's quite warm, isn't it?
I could do with a drink, too.

- So, another sherry?
- Aren't you going to introduce us?

- Didn't I?
- No!

Oh, sorry. This is Mr and Mrs...

(MUMBLING)

- What?
- Er, Mr and Mrs...

Sorry, I fainted.

Well, I feel better now.
I'll just get you your tomato juices.

- Twitchen, actually.
- Hall.

- Would you care to join us?
- Thank you so much.

Here we are.

- That's it.
- Would you like to see the menu?

- Yes, what is it?
- Please, put the bottle down.

- What do you want?
- Please, put the bottle down!

What is it?

Kurt is drunk.

(BOTTLE SHATTERING)

Sorry! Sorry.

- Drunk?
- Almost unconscious.

Right.

(SHRIEKING)

Sorry! Sorry!

- How?
- I don't know. It happened so quickly.

- He had a row with Manuel.
- Manuel?

- He's got a crush on him.
- A what?

A crush. You know, in love.

Sorry. Er,
would you excuse me just one moment?

I won't be one moment.

I knew it! I should have
never hired a Frenchman.

- He's Greek, Mr Fawlty.
- Greek?

Well, that's even worse.
I mean, they invented it.

Right! Give that to me, Kurt.

- Give me that bottle.
- No, go away! Leave me alone.

- Come on. Give it to me.
- Manuel!

- Come on, Kurt.
- Manuel! He doesn't love me!

- Well, you have to give these things time.
- I want Manuel!

I'm sure we can arrange something.
Now can I have the bottle?

- He's so sweet.
- Yes, he is sweet.

- He's wonderful!
- Yes! I know!

Damn you!

Kurt? Come on. Come on!

- Get some black coffee, quick!
- He can't drink it. He's out.

No, he isn't. He's only drunk half a bottle!
Come on.

Come on, Kurt! Come on!
Come on, Kurt! Come on.

MANUEL: Now listen to me, Kurty!

I come in now, but no cuddle.
You hear me? Ah!

Look at what you've done.

- Dead?
- To the world.

- He's only drunk, Manuel.
- This is your fault!

- Qué?
- You only had to be civil to him.

- "Civil"?
- Nice!

You no understand. Is not enough.
He want to kiss me.

- Oh, what's one little...
- Mr Fawlty!

Call André. He can do the cooking.

He's open tonight!
He's open on a Thursday, you cloth-eared bint!

But he can do it there.
You can pick it up in the car.

Oh...

Brilliant! Brilliant!

- Yuck.
- Right!

- I can't resist lobster.
- No.

- Tournedos for me every time.
- Would you care for another drink?

No, I don't think we will.
We're nearly ready to order.

I'll be back in a moment.

So, you can't do the lobster?

Right, right, I see, but,
André, the tournedos.

Yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

- Basil!
- Shh! Shh!

Yes, of course I want the duck, that's marvellous,
but can you do one or two sauces?

Wonderful! That's it! Thank you, André!

- Why are you talking to André?
- What is it? What is it?

- They're ready to order, Basil.
- Stall them.

- What?
- Stall them, you stupid woman!

- Tell them some lie.
- What's happening?

- Shh!
- Will you just tell me what you're doing?

- We've got to change the menu.
- Why?

Why? Why?

Listen, he's out there! He's flat out!

- So, André's...
- Who is?

- What?
- Who is "out"?

Kurt! Who did you think, Henry Kissinger?

- What do you mean out?
- He's drunk!

- "Drunk"?
- Drunk! Soused, potted, inebriated, got it?

- I don't believe it.
- Neither do I.

Perhaps it's a dream.

No, it's not a dream.
We're stuck with it. Right!

André's doing the cooking,
I'll collect it in the car.

- What's he cooking?
- Duck!

- Duck?
- Duck!

- Duck?
- You know, duck.

(QUACKING)

I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

Well, we'd like to order now.

Uh, yes, quite.

- My wife would like the lobster as her main...
- Yes, excuse me.

There is one small thing.

I'm afraid you were given the wrong menus.
Er, this is tonight's menu.

- What?
- Er, yes...

I'm afraid the chef changed his mind
and forgot to tell us. He's like that.

Brilliant, but temperamental.

- He's changed everything?
- I'm afraid so.

It wasn't good enough,
so he just chucked it away.

- He's such a perfectionist.
- The lobster?

Lobster, tournedos,
you name it, it's in the bin.

- How extraordinary.
- Lucky old bin, I say.

- This is your new menu.
- Duck with orange.

Duck with cherries.

Duck surprise?

- What's duck surprise?
- Uh, that's duck without orange or cherries.

Is this all there is? Duck?

Um, yes. Done, of course,
the three extremely different ways.

And what do you do if you don't like duck?

If you don't like duck,

er, you're rather stuck.

Well, fortunately, I love it!

Oh, good, so that's four ducks, is it?

You were right.

Ooh.

Now, he's getting this duck from André.

Yes, but I don't know what
vegetables he's put on.

Three salmon mousses, Polly,
and one mullet with mustard sauce for Mrs Hall.

- Where's the mullet?
- There!

Oh, right.

- What are you doing about vegetables, Basil?
- Same as the other menu, dear.

- André's not doing any?
- No, no! You and Polly!

- Er, mustard sauce!
- Mustard sauce, here.

When I'm out in the car,
you get them ready, right?

Right.

- Ready, Polly?
- Ready.

- Manuel?
- Sí?

Two of those for table nine, and one of those,
and that's for table four. Come on!

- There you are. There you go.
- No, the other way around.

- Qué?
- The other way around.

Oh. Please!

No, no, no! The plates!

Change the plates.

- Oh, is dirty. I change.
- No, come here!

- Change the plates.
- Change the plates.

Pardon.

Sí, I tell them.

Sorry. Sorry. Is wrong.

(MANUEL YELPING)

I'm so sorry, he's from Barcelona.
Do forgive me.

I don't know what he sees in you!

Do you think we could have a drink, dear?

- May I see the wine list, please, Fawlty?
- Certainly, Major.

Colonel!

Everything all right?

- Yes, I expect so.
- Oh, good. Mrs Twitchen?

- Yes, it's fine, Mr Fawlty.
- Good. Good.

He's got it in his hair.

- How is it, dear?
- Rather good, surprisingly.

- Well, there's the wine list.
- Thank you very much.

(SCREAMING)

What is it, Petal? What's the matter?

Is everything all right?

- Oh, I think I'm going to be sick!
- It is an unusual taste, isn't it?

It's not cooked, you ignoramus!

What are you trying to do to us, Fawlty?
Do you mean that's raw?

- Oh, would you prefer a cooked one?
- Of course she'd prefer a cooked one!

- I'll get you a cooked one then. It'll be even nicer!
- No! No!

This is raw! This mullet is raw!
What do we do to it?

Kurt! Kurt! Kurt, listen.

What do we do with this, hmm?
Do we grill it?

If we grill it, just go, "uh".

All right, do we fry it? Just go, "uh".

(KURT VOMITING)

- Going well, isn't it?
- Basil, will you just get out?

Right!

- Wine!
- What?

The colonel wants some wine.
No, you go, Polly. He won't hit a woman.

Have you, er... Have you chosen yet, Major?

Colonel! Have you chosen your wine?

Oh, yes. Chablis, please.

Thank you.

- Waitress?
- Yes.

There's a hair in my mousse.

Well, don't talk too loud.
Everybody will want one.

What?

Sorry.

Oh, get out of the way. Get out.

I'm so sorry about that.

The mullet's on its way.

- André.
- Ah, monsieur Fawlty. There you are.

A beautiful duck for you.
It should be, mmm, delicious. Top!

He's always asleep. There you are.
Don't forget the sauces. There.

- Thank you.
- All right.

- Oh, marvellous.
- I hope it all goes very well for you.

Good luck.

(ENGINE SPUTTERING)

Come on!

- What, no good?
- No, it's very good.

Here it is, Polly.

Right, I'll carve it on the trolley.

Well, then, well done, everybody.

Ah, Manuel, get the trolley ready.
Right, right, let's go.

Basil!

(SHRIEKING)

Look what you've done,
you stupid great tart!

Wait a minute. I think it'll be all right.

Yes. Yes, you're right!

Look! Look at it!

I mean, look at that!

- Can I help, dear?
- Yes! Go and kill yourself!

No, talk to André first!

Tell him we need another one!
Oh, go talk to them.

- What?
- Entertain them, or something.

André, Sybil Fawlty.

Well, I'm afraid it got trodden on.

(MANUEL SINGING)

Sorry, so wrong. I try again.

- André! Where is it?
- Don't worry. It's all under control.

- Isn't it beautiful?
- Fantastic.

- Okay.
- Wait a minute!

- What?
- The most important.

- More sauces.
- I don't need...

Sorry, I don't need them.

- That's all right.
- You're all right?

Come on!

Come on!

Olé!

♪ I'm just a girl who can't say no

♪ I'm in a terrible fix... ♪

Come...

(ENGINE SPUTTERING)

Start!

Start, you vicious bastard! Come on!

Oh, my God! I'm warning you!

If you don't start...

I'll count to three.

One. Two. Three. Right!

That's it! I've had enough!
You've tried it on just once too often! Right!

Well, don't say I haven't warned you!
I've laid it on the line to you time and time again!

Right! Well, this is it!

I'm gonna give you a damn good thrashing!

♪ Can't be prissy and quaint

♪ How can I be what I ain't?

♪ I can't say no ♪

- Is wonderful!
- Very, very good.

Thank you.

Er, any sign of the duck?

Oh, it's just coming.

So, Uncle Ted comes in
with his crate of brown ale,

and Mother says,
"Oh, Ted, look who's here,"

and he says...

- Okay, Polly!
- Okay!

- Got the sauces?
- Got them.

Right!

Ladies and gentlemen,

so sorry to have kept you waiting.

Well, er, who's for trifle?

- What?
- Trifle for you, Mrs Hall?

What about the duck, Fawlty?

Duck's off, sorry.