Original subtitles

This programme contains strong language and adult humour.

# I'm not sick, but I'm not well And I'm so hot

♪ Cos I'm in hell. ♪

'Gorgeous Joe. I want to crawl inside your lovely pink mouth.'

Jez, I need to get to work.

Oh, yeah, of course. Me, too. Busy, busy, busy.

'Storage Wars, Walnut Whip, wank into a flannel.'

Like, who's the most famous person you've life-coached?

I would probably have to say... 'Think of someone famous'

...the Queen. 'Interesting choice.'

The Queen? Yeah, it was either the Queen or Jenson Button,

but in the end I'd probably have to say the Queen.

You've life-coached the Queen?

It wasn't just me. A small cadre of life coaches were airlifted into Highgrove.

What was she like? She is...

outlandish.

She's funny, she's saucy, and she's got the filthiest laugh.

Kind of...

Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh...

Wow. No offence, Jez,

I just thought your life-coaching was maybe a part-time thing,

cos you do it out of your bedroom.

HE LAUGHS Oh, Joe.

I have an office, obvs.

Whereabouts? It's...

You know the office block on the corner of, er, Cowper Street?

Yeah. 'Oh.' You do? Great.

Yeah, well, I have a place there.

I'll have to pay you a visit sometime. Yep. You do that.

'This is just another small, insignificant lie I'll have to maintain

'until the day I die.

'Mark still thinks I know what the public sector is.'

'Right, I want to beat Angus but fuck April.

'Freudian mixed doubles.' Jeremy, can you hold your racket up?

Oh, this is just one thing after a-bloody-nother.

Face forward, please, Jeremy.

Actually, I'm probably going to go. You can't go. This is match point.

Ooh, are we going to win the match? What if we lose the match?

The match, the match, the match!

Can we just finish the game and do this afterwards, please?

Fine. If it comes at me again, I'm not hitting it.

Unlucky, Angus. 'Welcome to hell, old man!'

Shot, Mark!

Can I go now, cos I am only here so you can fuck the historian,

and I really don't see that happening.

It's Angus. They've made up and now he's everywhere.

I invite her to the library, he offers to give us a lift.

Tennis...he makes it doubles.

I mean, just look at him, hogging his wife.

The big, brainy, wife-hogging shit.

'Fuck tennis. It's basically bullshit ping pong for giants.'

I'll bring the car round. OK.

'Now, Mark.

'Steal his wife while he fetches the Vectra.'

So, April, there's a...there's a talk on at the British Academy on Friday.

Andrew Roberts doing a jam on World War I trench letters.

'Love amongst the mustard gas.'

There's literally only two tickets left, sadly.

Cos I bought the last eight and burned the other six.'

So I was wondering if you'd... Oh, Mark, I'd love to, but...

It's kind of embarrassing, but I'm going to have my moles mapped.

Oh? Yeah, I can get a little bit jumpy...

mole-wise. Freckle on my kneecap... "That wasn't there yesterday!"

Next thing I'm picking at it with a craft knife,

trying to cauterise the wound with one of those creme brulee torches.

'Oh, April and your charming neuroses!'

I've been looking for a half-decent mole-mapping place for ages.

By no means am I excessively moley, it's not like I'm riddled.

I'd just like a full body ordnance survey.

Well, that's amazing, cos not everybody is up for, you know,

having their genitals photographed.

No, I... I am. I'm bang up for that.

Well, be nice to have some company. It's a date.

A weird, kind of creepy, dermatological kind of date.

'They all count, April! They all count.'

How are you feeling today?

Like a piece of shit.

Why is that, do you think?

Because you fucked my boyfriend and then you stole my boyfriend. Interesting.

I fucking hate you, Jeremy.

You are unmanly. And you are basically uninteresting.

And you hide behind this mask of, like, slacker bullshit,

like the fact you've never done anything with your life

is some kind of Gen X lifestyle choice when really...

it's just because you're a small, talentless worm.

'Hunker down, Jeremy, into the brain bunker.'

And you don't deserve Joe, cos I've been with him, and he fucks like a dinosaur.

You fuck like a little child.

Like an eight-year-old that's just been told off for sucking its thumb.

OK, that's all we've got time for today. No, it isn't.

We've still got 48 minutes left.

Unless you don't want me to pay you for the full session?

Let's just dive back in, shall we?

'Back into the cesspool.'

I'm going to make you cry, Jeremy.

I'm going to make you cry delicious tears,

and then I'm going to collect those tears in a little silver bowl

and I'm going to drink them all up.

Yeah?

'Walnut Whip. Little cry. Wank into a flannel.'

I got the slot immediately after April!

We're going mole mapping!

God, that's romantic, Mark(!)

What next? Take her up in a hot-air balloon, get your anuses bleached?

It's a date, and no-one can prove otherwise.

Mark, can I ask you something? And I want you to be honest.

Am I a shit?

Absolutely you're a shit.

Milk's gone.

So I am? I'm a shit?

Oh, you're a shit, Jeremy. You are the shit on my shoe.

I'm a total shit?

A giant, walking, talking, anthropomorphised shit on stilts.

A shit for all seasons.

The shit man of Europe.

What a total, total shit!

Well, I've enjoyed this, Jeremy.

It's pepped me up, it really has.

I need to get my act together, Mark.

Yes, well, I may have mentioned something about this, Jeremy.

I'm just a waster, floating through life, jazzing into the flannel.

And Joe, he's like this great guy, and cool job...

Sorry, you jazz into the flannel?

Oh, don't be so fucking parochial, Mark.

I'm laying it out there, the inner churn, the workings of man,

and you're hung up on whose jizz ends up on what bit of cloth.

Which flannel, Jeremy? I don't know!

I can't be expected to remember where it all goes.

Right!

Which flannel have you jazzed on?

Answer the fucking question!

Jesus Christ, Jeremy!

That is beyond the...pale!

You know what, you're right, I've gone too far this time, Mark.

Well, I am turning a corner.

I'm growing up and getting an actual office

and I'm going to stop just flinging my jizz around hither and yon.

How very reassuring(!) Now, excuse me while I boil-wash my face!

So, where's this gastro pub, then, Hans?

Just up here. They've got a fruity.

I call it the Isa, cos it's basically my pension plan.

Go in there twice a week and bleed it like a radiator.

Mind you, I've got cramp in my hand from hitting the £10 repeater so many times.

DESCENDING BEEPS

No, it's turned, it's fucking turned on me.

Doesn't look very gastro, Hans.

There's a man over there eating Quavers out of an ashtray.

Oi, oi, choirboy! Fancy seeing you here.

Jez, this is Wadey, mate of mine from Halfords days. All right?

Actually, Jez, it's lucky you're here,

cos young Mr Wade here has been off working at a Center Parcs,

isn't that right, Wadey? Yeah, that's right, Hans.

I've been working at a Center Parcs.

Yeah. But he's been made redundant, sadly.

And I'm thinking maybe you could have a little chat with him.

Oh, is this about your self-esteem? Yeah?

Cos I always think self-esteem is a lot like actual steam.

You can't see it, but it definitely exists.

No, what I wanted to ask you was...

You know your mate Mark?

Can you get me his swipe card for the bank?

What's that, sorry?

His swipe card that gets him in the back of the bank. Can you get it for me?

Super Hans, quick natter? Mmm.

Wadey, just give us a minute, will you? All right.

Is he a fucking bank robber?

Behave!

He's not a bank robber, Jeremy.

He's a burglar.

I'm joking! Lighten up!

I've been burned before, Hans.

Never trust the pub man.

Things between me and Molly, they've gone a bit rancid.

You've just got back from your honeymoon.

I know, mate, that's what's so surprising.

It is one hot, toxic mess.

And...

well, I just need some bunce for a bit of a love bombing

- you know, sexy Dresden.

And if Wadey could just borrow Mark's swipe card, we'd both be quids in.

I don't like it.

It smells of crime.

You'll be well compensated. Money up front.

I'm talking five figures. Five figures?

Well, there's a decimal place after the first three figures.

So three figures? Five figures total.

Three figures actual.

Look, he's harmless, Wadey.

Sorry, Hans, I'm out.

I'm getting my shit together.

Huh...

Yep. They all let you down eventually.

DESCENDING BEEPS

Fruities, wives...

mates.

They all let you d...

Oh, hello. TAPS MACHINE

Three golden eggs! And I'm up the beanstalk.

So, what was your final tally?

What's the scores on the doors?

Including warts and skin tags? Including warts and skin tags.

Drumroll... Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh...

32.

41! I win.

'What do I win? Most physically defective male?'

Can I ask you something? Sure.

Does Angus seem OK to you?

Well, I thought his service game seemed a little off, but I didn't like to crow.

A few years back he became totally obsessed with

writing a book about the Byzantine Church, but for the general reader.

It had to be for the general reader. He was really very insistent about that.

How interesting.

'Do I detect a mental defect?'

Next thing I know, he's gone off to Turkey for five months.

Checked himself into a hostel in Marmaris.

He cut these kind of tramlines into his hair.

He'd written the Nicene Creed all over his legs.

April, that's...that's awful.

'I smell it, the sweet stench of weakness.'

Maybe he's going back to that. I don't know, maybe I'm losing him again.

'All aboard the Coconut Express. Next stop, Loony Town!'

Yeah. I need quite a lot of storage space for my personal effects

when hiring an office.

Cos I've ordered a briefcase off Amazon.

It's coming from Holland.

What's...?

Oh, my God, there's a socket in the floor!

Unbelievable!

Um, do you monitor the things I look at on the internet?

No. Great.

I love this office.

It's £400 per calendar month.

Four? 400?

Fuck my mouth!

This is nice, isn't it?

A goodly stroll. 'Invite him out for a walk,

'lure him into a Greek Orthodox Church,

'precipitate an insanity spiral.

'My plan certainly has become quite Byzantine!'

Mark, I understand you went mole mapping with my wife?

Oh...yeah, we went for a little checkup.

The old mole patrol.

I was wondering... 'Is this a walloping?'

...if you'd like to come for a colonoscopy.

Right.

I've been putting it off for months and I thought,

"Seems like it might be in Mark's wheelhouse."

You know, guys looking out for each other? Yeah, no, sounds great.

We could go for a pint after. You know, get the cancery bit out of the way

and then pop into the Whistle for a pint of IPA.

'Rectal exams with the love rival?'

And thanks...

for taking April. She needed that.

She needs...an outlet.

Some nights she's like, "Let's take drugs and go crazy."

And I'm thinking Herodotus and a bowl of muesli.

It's just not me.

'Tell me your wife's secret desires. They'll be safe with me!'

Say, that's an interesting church.

Is it Russian?

Yes, a Russian Orthodox Church.

How fascinating.

Er, I believe it's Greek, Mark.

OK, well, I propose a wager, good sir. Loser buys the ploughman's?

'Oh, I'll buy you a ploughman's, Angus,

'but it'll be the last ploughman's you eat as a sane man.'

In terms of praxis, the difference between Russian and Greek

just comes down to order of service.

'Put on the tap shoes, quick dance on his grave.'

And is there a comprehensive history of the Byzantine Church

you could recommend, you know, for the general reader?

OK, I'm going to surprise you here, Mark, and say no, there isn't,

unless you include John Julius Norwich's so-called History Of Byzantium,

and I don't.

Right. Cos you've got Simon Baker on Rome

and Karen Armstrong on the Western Christian tradition,

but nothing on the Byzantine Church?

Doesn't that just seem insane?

It does seem a little nutty.

'This isn't horrible. I'm just encouraging him.

'Follow your dream, Angus, all the way into the big mind mincer.'

..and the only first-hand account we have is, as you'll know,

Martin of Opava's Chronicon Pontificum Et Imperatorum,

and, frankly, it's a pamphlet.

It's so limited in scope as to be almost worthless.

'God, this really is interesting.

'No, don't get sucked in! Otherwise it's going to be me and Angus

'sleeping in a Turkish hostel, reading Scripture and getting rectal exams.'

'Cup of tea and a Twirl.

'Finally get a proper look at my arse.

'Yep, there he is, that's my arse all right.

'The dark side of the moon.'

So, Mark, I got your letter.

That's not from me, Jeremy, that's from the bank.

It's a standard loan statement.

Do you have any idea of the monthly repayments on that fucking thing?

Yes, Jeremy. Yes, I do.

So that's it? Office gone. There's no way I can afford it any more.

All my hopes and dreams, everything I've been working for

for the last 39 years flushed down the toilet.

You've wanted this office since yesterday.

You never should have sold me that loan, Mark. You were exploiting me.

Well, guess what, I've got one word for you.

Ombudsman.

Ha! I'm going to the ombudsman.

So if there's a bang at the door and you answer it

and there's a man in a stovepipe hat with a long, hooky stick, that's him.

The ombudsman.

The ombudsman isn't a person, Jeremy.

It's a toothless regulatory body

made up of junior and often very obliging civil servants.

One eye open, Mark.

SINGS: # The ombudsman's coming to get you... #

You know, Angus would have been more than welcome to...

Yeah, he...didn't fancy it.

I caught him reading the Nicene Creed on the toilet.

Oh, April...

you are joking?! 'Ting!'

He said you went to a Byzantine church?

Look, I...

I didn't want to dob him in, but we went for a stroll and...

It was like he couldn't help himself.

I mean, we went for a ploughman's afterwards,

but the mood was pretty sombre.

'So I ate both his pickled onions!'

You know, April, it's at times like this when I just want to throw my hands up

and say, "Let's take drugs and go crazy."

Hm!

'Oh, God, help me.'

I haven't done this since uni. Am I doing it right?

Yeah, no, that's great.

Some lovely fat lines of...chang.

Do you always have coke lying around, you big druggie?

It's leftovers from Super Hans' stag.

But it's good shit, it's real top-quality, Taste the Difference shit.

Let the Great British Snort Off begin.

'Eye of the tiger. Fuck you, everyone. Fuck you, Dad.'

HE SNORTS

Ah... Mmm!

Delicious. As always.

Mein compliments to the chef.

'Christ, it's gone all the way up my nose and into my throat!

'Doesn't taste very nice. What if it's off?

'What if my head swells up like a melon and I never sleep again?'

I feel completely normal. But also...

a bit like I want to karate-chop my hand through a very high stack of poppadoms.

You could hold up a keema naan and I could punch my fist through it.

Kung food!

HE LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY

'I have never been this intensely funny.'

Angus would never do this.

Unless we'd talked about it and tabled it with our therapist

and dissected it to death.

Oh, tedious. I mean, I don't even want another line.

The last thing I feel like is another line.

'Well, that's it. I'm an addict.'

But that was actually probably my favourite line of the two.

Cos I found this cruise, OK? Three months in the Med, just what we need.

'God, she's trying to patch things up with Angus.

'God, my teeth are dry!'

Cocktails, six meals a day, bad karaoke.

He said no.

April, if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times.

'First time I've ever said it.'

You've got to live in the moment, cos right now I feel like

staying up all night, or running to Thornton Heath,

or throwing my iPad out the window.

Go on, then. Yeah?

I mean, which? Cos I'll do it.

iPad. Yeah, cos...it's just an iPad.

I mean, what is it, really? Just some very thin microchips.

Go on. I'm going to do it.

Don't you think I should do it? I'm totally doing it. Should I do it?

You should totally do it. I'm totally doing it.

'Regretting act of spontaneity before I've completed act of spontaneity.'

Bye-bye!

Fuck you, iPad!

I can't believe you just did that. I know.

You're like the Incredible Hulk. The Incredible Mark.

Mark Smash!

'She thinks I'm funny.'

Mark Smash!

HE LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY

'Oh, my God.'

I should get going.

But thank you for an amazing evening.

'I've kissed her. I've kissed her on coke.

'If we take smack, maybe she'll get divorced and marry me.'

HE SNORTS

I've got you the goods.

Mark's swipe card. Yeah.

But on one condition. Say pub man is a bank robber,

we tell him, no shooting of Mark.

And that is an absolute red line.

'God, I'm a good friend. I've really stuck my neck out for Mark there.'

Look, hang on to it for now.

Let's just say young Mr Wade's attempts not to rob Mark's bank

have taken a surprising unexpected turn.

Like what? He's basically doing it right now.

Hang on. But he's not actually going to do it, though?

Well, it's hard to tell with Wadey.

Don't get me wrong, he's a teddy bear.

But he's a violent teddy bear.

You said he was harmless.

Well, he's more than one thing, Jeremy.

He's harmless, he's deadly.

He's a devil, he's a saint.

He's happy, he's furious.

He's got a multiple personality disorder, basically.

Shit! Right, text pub man, tell him not to shoot Mark.

I've got to warn him.

'What if he's already shot him? What if he's wounded him?

'God, imagine Mark in a wheelchair. He'll be insufferable.'

'I need something new to throw out the window before April loses interest.

'Could bung my George Foreman off the balcony.'

Oh, sorry, mate.

'Oh, it's grudge time with Jerry.

'When is he ever going to forgive me

for bundling him into a sleeping bag and throwing him in a lift?'

Mark?

Oh, Angus, er...hi. I wasn't expecting...

So, I found a place that does

something called an air-contrast barium enema.

They basically pump air into the rectum.

Apparently, you get an incredibly clear silhouette of the whole downstairs area.

Sounds perfect.

'Inflating my colon like a weather balloon?!'

I'm not here to talk to you about a colonoscopy, Mark.

I need a loan. 5K.

I think I'm losing April and... she wants this cruise.

I don't know, I feel like if we go away together, that might fix everything.

Sure. Sure it might.

Well, let me just enter your details into the system.

'Look at me, I'm entering his details into the system.

'Telephone, telephone, sunglasses, smiley face, crucifix, and "enter."'

Oh, Angus, your credit rating is, frankly, sub-Grecian.

Look, I have mortgage statements. Mate, I'm...

I'm sorry. It's a no.

'Three-way spite-feast!

'No commission for me, no cruise for April,

'no marriage for Angus.

'And it tastes great.'

Mark, I need five, like, quite intense minutes right now.

Hi, Angus.

Just FYI sort of thing, there is a very slim possibility that...

a bank robber is heading into the bank right now.

So, you know, act normal, but also be on permanent high alert.

Jeremy, what are you talking about?

It's just some mate of Super Hans, some pub man.

A pub man? I-I'm getting robbed?

No, it's all fine, because I told Hans to tell him, "No shooting Mark."

What do you mean, no shooting? I was going to get shot?

No. Because it was a red line.

Oh, and no-one ever goes over a red line, do they, Jeremy(?)

Tuition fees was a fucking red line.

Look, it's just a caper gone bad. He wanted your swipe card,

and then I...took it, but then I didn't give it to him...

You took it? Jesus Christ, Jeremy!

Come on, Mark, on your high horse.

It's a bank. They're insured. It's a victimless crime.

No, Jeremy, it isn't. It's a victimy crime, and the victim is me!

I'm going to get shot.

Oh, how many times, Mark? You are not getting...

You are not getting shot. Why does it always have to be about you?

I'm sorry, Jeremy.

I'm sorry for being all self-pitying about my potential shooting.

In a way, you do work in a bank. What's that supposed to mean?

I mean, come on, you're probably due one.

Oh, great. I'm due one, am I?

I'm due a good shooting? It's my turn for the big, shiny bullet?

Oh, shit.

Is... Is that him? Is that the robber?

Shit, where's the panic button?

I can't find the panic button.

I'm panicking, and I can't find the panic...

Just fucking calm down, Mark, for fuck's sake!

Why do they make these bloody things so hard to find?

Will you stop panicking? He's just some nutter.

Exactly. He's a nutter, Jeremy,

a nutter who may or may not have got the memo re not shooting me.

He's queueing.

Why is he queueing? Robbers don't queue.

We need to leave.

What if he shoots everyone?

He won't. And if he does, what are we supposed to do? Stop him?

Yeah, that's what we'll do, Mark. We'll stop him(!)

We'll stop the armed maniac, me and you.

'I'm not running away, I'm just walking over here to reassess the situation.

'All the way over here and out of the back.' It's fine.

Everything's going to be fine. No-one's getting shot.

Right, we need to move.

He's quite obviously going to shoot everyone. What?!

What am I doing? I need to go back in!

What about Angus?

He's a cadaver, Mark. He's toast.

Coffee shop. We'll wait in the coffee shop until the shooting stops.

Macchiato and a blueberry muffin, please.

A muffin? You're going to stand here, waiting for a massacre, eating a muffin?

What difference does it make? Unbelievable.

Er, flat white extra hot and a biscotti.

But this is on you.

I'm holding you fully accountable.

You know what... Soz.

"Soz" is not an appropriate level of apology

for facilitating an armed fucking robbery.

PHONE RINGS Joe?

'Jez.' Hey. 'I'm at the offices on Cowper Street.

They don't seem to know who you are.'

Oh, er...sorry, I can't really hear you.

I'm just at Highgrove.

In fact, Joe, there's a very distinguished older gentleman

who'd really like to have a word with you right now.

(Do a Prince Philip.) What?

Do a Prince Philip and I'll go and tackle the robber, or whatever.

Oh, Christ.

No, I'm not doing a fucking Prince Philip.

Er, sorry about that, Joe. He's famously flighty.

'You're not really at Highgrove, are you, Jeremy?'

Er, no.

I'm actually at Balmoral.

PHONE BEEPS Hello? Hello?

He's gone.

It's happening, then. Joe's starting to see through me.

Really, Jeremy? Tell me more, cos I'm so invested

in your domestic horseshit right now.

Mark? What the hell are you doing over here?

Oh, hi, Alan, I'm just on a quick coffee run.

Oh, really?

Hanging out with your little buddy? Hm?

Playing conkers with your little chum? Get back to work. What about my coffee?

I'll bring it. Exit...

Mark.

Jeremy, are you coming?

Sorry, mate.

Right.

Off I go.

On my own.

Off on my merry way.

'No-one seems dead. It's a promising start.

'Oh, God, here he goes.

'Oh, he's bottled it.

'He's just a big, beardy pen thief.

Mark, it's going through. Your mate sorted it.

We're going cruising!

Brilliant, Angus. I-I'm happy for you.

Thanks, Jerry.

Oh, not a problem, Mark. I'd happily steal your sales all day long.

JERRY AND ANGUS CHUCKLE

MARK CHUCKLES

'Commission for Jerry, cruise for April, marriage for Angus.

'Get the pub man back. I want my shooting!'