Original subtitles

Aguero!

20.

Three.

Double 14, so 28, yeah?

Er... So that's 50.

51!

51 down from 501...

That's 4... 450, yeah. Er...

Double 20. Treble 18.

Christ, Pascal, will you slow down? Help me out?

Er... 60...

No, I've got no idea.

54!

54. So that's... 114?

Yeah? Down from 501

I think you're doing brilliantly.

Um, that's a 20, but I haven't finished doing her adding yet.

- 5... - Excuse me.

- Can we get an autograph, please? - Yeah. Of course.

Thanks for coming. Great to raise money for the charities.

Oh, these nights are even better when the team's doing well.

Chris Booth has done an incredible job turning it around.

And it's how he's done it. Always smiling, playing the kids.

Hey, not all the kids. Mattie's not playing.

No, no, but you are.

That assist last week was amazing. You didn't even look!

Yeah. I feel like I should have got two assists for that one.

You should have. You really should.

I know. I mean it. I should've.

Petey, can you sign our autograph book for us, please?

What are you, a fucking time-traveller?

Haven't you heard of selfies?

But look, we've got everyone's.

You'll like this - Chris Booth.

What do you think about what he's written?

Absolute total bollocks, probably.

It was just after my nan died.

His words really helped.

So...?

You need 58 to finish, so that's

246 minus 83

is... Jesus wept.

Er...

Daniel?

- You in there? - Yeah.

- And I'm having a shit. - Good.

Cos otherwise you'd shit your pants with the exclusive I've got for you.

All right, give me a second.

What you got, then?

Chris Booth has lost the dressing room.

What? You've won your last five games.

Don't matter. The players think he's a wally.

He's lost them. They hate him.

Print that, from an inside source.

Petey, he's just won manager of the month.

I've done you enough favours, just print he's a failure.

But he's not, is he?

If I pitch a story of dressing room disharmony,

my editor's going to laugh me out of the pub.

All right, that's it - no more stories from me.

And by the way, your shit stinks.

Yeah, it will. I mean, it's shit.

15, 15 and 18, that's 48.

Minus...

Sorry, off 501.

That'd

be 453.

Is this still going on?

Petey Brooks!

How ya doin', mate? Eh?

Looking good!

Can't say the same, Paul - you're fat.

Oh, yeah. It'll happen to you, too.

When you finish playing football,

you can't just eat what you fancy any more.

Does that mean you've stopped eating anuses, then?

Oooh! Got me again.

It's like old times.

Five years older than me and still a dozy sod.

I had to teach you how to tie your fucking boots.

Oh... no.

I knew how to do that.

Allegorically. Have you forgotten how to banter?

Probably.

Been out of the dressing room a while now.

Dressing room's not what it used to be. Look at these pricks,

- nothing about 'em. - Nice to meet you, Paul.

- Hey. How ya doin'? - Yeah, nice to meet a club legend.

Oh! Petey Brooks is the real legend.

The stuff we used to get up to, eh? Madness!

These couldn't keep up with it.

I could barely keep up with you.

Threesomes, orgies, the lot.

So you've seen Petey's erect penis?

- Seen it? Had it me mouth, mate. - I'm sorry?

- Yeah, all right. - Yeah, we used to do

these wanking competitions, right?

And the loser had to give a suck job.

All right, fuck off. Never did that.

What? It's banter, it's funny.

Of course! I hate when wanking competitions get all serious.

He knows.

You always talk too fucking much.

That's why you only ever got one cap.

Got injured a lot as well, though.

Are you still talking?

I'm getting a canape.

Erm

Pascal, you need 58, so that's 15, three...

- Fuck me. - 18 double top.

Yeah, or that, yeah.

Pete, sorry, mate, I didn't mean to embarrass you.

I thought it was funny.

Yeah, well, it's not.

It was funny at the time.

We was pissing ourselves.

You were laughing then, weren't you?

- Yeah, because it was really funny. - Right.

So... Is it funny or not?

It is funny, it is.

But now they think it isn't.

What used to be funny is still funny, but you can't say it is.

Why not?

I don't know. You just can't.

Jack.

Well done tonight.

It's a tough gig, that, and, you know,

Petey Brooks fixed the drawing of lots,

so you were set up.

- Makes sense. - It was pretty funny, though.

You looked so lost up there, like a little puppy dog.

But then, I love puppies.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

- What are you doing now? - Oh, right, yeah.

Going home, probably go to bed.

Dropping them back first, though.

Well, you're not dropping them back after you've gone to bed.

No, I'm going to drop them back, then bed.

Oh, brush teeth, then bed.

That's tonight, that.

That's a shame.

If you ever fancy hanging out some time, just call me.

Give us your phone.

There you go.

I've sent myself a message, so I've got your number, too.

Maybe I'll use it for a booty call later.

Right, yeah.

See you around, Jack.

What did she want?

Fuck knows.

Boothie's turned it around totally.

We might make the Champions League this year. Get in!

Boothie, Boothie!

So we're talking about Chris Booth,

- what's his secret, Andy? - Preparation.

- Really? - Yeah.

He's got 'em studying opposition data and video analysis.

Petey, you forgot your opposition pack.

The only thing I've ever forgotten

is the names of most of the birds I've shagged.

- Because you are forgetful? - No.

Because I've had more pussy than you've had hot wanks.

Anyway, here is the video analysis drive,

and here is the added data sheet on opposition attackers.

It's a pile of wank.

I'll file that with the rest of Chris Booth's shit ideas.

Petey, don't take this the wrong way, but

do you struggle to read?

You'll struggle to breathe, you piss-taker.

It wasn't a piss-take.

I know when you were coming through,

kids your age were scouted so young that their education suffered,

and I did a lot of English tutoring in the States

and, I don't know, I was wondering

if maybe you wanted someone to discreetly help you

with your reading.

If you make one more fucking noise,

and by that I mean generate sound in any way,

via your mouth, your nose, your sphincter,

even your fucking shit hair rustling,

I will throw you through that window.

Understood?

Blink slowly if you understand.

Good.

Now, come round to my place at two. We'll start the lessons today.

Oh, and if you tell anyone about this,

I will smash your kneecaps with a claw hammer.

Yes! Amazing.

Finally! About time the FA got their shit together.

It's not formal recognition yet. It's just a preliminary meeting

about your international future and where your allegiances lie.

Like I always say, God save our gracious Queen.

Weird thing to always say, but anyway,

now I have some less good news.

Ah

I don't like less good news.

No-one does.

So, the less good news is you need to hand control

of all your social media accounts

- over to the club. - You're joking.

I'm as serious as measles,

which - according to your feed - doesn't exist.

Come on!

You can't take my digital soul.

Your digital soul is a collection of conspiracy theory re-tweets

and some very wrong ideologies.

That was just phase one.

Now we've got a following, we're going into phase two.

Phase two being?

Selling protein shakes!

Consider your soul shut down.

How did it go?

All good. Guess who's close to getting an England call-up.

Excellent. I'll instagram a tease later.

Oh, yeah. One other thing is that your sacked.

So, not all good, then.

Bruv,

you live-streamed a first teamer assaulting a disabled man.

And all that flat Earth shit.

Or the truth, as it's otherwise known!

OK, so, how do you want to work my severance?

Don't know. Quick handshake, hug?

No. Do you want to keep paying me monthly,

or do you want to settle up the rest of my contract now?

Fuck off, I ain't paying.

You'll get another job, a man of your talents.

But I don't need another job, do I?

Because you agreed to pay me for the next 11 months and 16 days.

Oh, so much free time!

Ooh, maybe I will reopen by Salisbury poisoning investigation.

OK, fine, if I'm paying you, then you can stay on as my assistant,

but not my social media assistant,

more like my fetch-and-carry-shit assistant.

Yeah?

All right, lads? Lunch, is it?

Or just... just keeping fit?

Chris lets me use the gym if I want to.

Have some food.

Hang out. Eat the food.

Oi, paedo!

Move away from the boys, paedo!

Oh, Christ, classic Brooksy banter, eh?

Sounds more like bullying, but your call.

Savour this, lads, you'll miss it when it's gone.

Christ knows I do.

Best days of my life.

I used to love getting up

at five o'clock in the morning, going training.

Nowadays, I get up at five o'clock in the morning,

just stare at the ceiling.

No-one cares, you old prick.

What are you doing here, anyway?

Your boss lets me use the gym.

I haven't got a boss.

- Yeah. The manager. Chris Booth. - Oh, the caretaker manager?

Sorted me out with a match-day job as well.

Bloody life-saver, that man.

What's the job, then, mascot?

At least you won't need the fat suit.

Yeah.

I have got a bit heavier,

like you keep saying. Nah, it's a corporate gig.

Kissing sponsors' arses, that kind of thing.

Not like me and Petey used to do, though, eh?

We used to literally kiss each other's arses for bants

back in the gold old days.

That never happened.

That never happened.

It wasn't funny anyway, so...

Oof!

Yeah, old Porky Chops here better be off.

I'll see you lads around.

Absolute melt.

Is it just me, or do the old days sound extremely homosexual?

Oh, sound, the landlord's changed the light bulbs.

And left you a Gamblers Anonymous leaflet.

Nah, he must have left it by mistake.

Seriously?

He's very obviously left it for you.

How much do you want to bet the landlord didn't leave that for me?

I think he might be onto something.

I've stopped gambling anyway, since I've got a missus.

You've got a missus?

Yeah, Ruth from the ladies' team.

She text me the other night, after the darts,

and we've been seeing each other ever since.

They're only part-timers. You've got to make sure she ain't a gold digger.

What does she do for a living?

Pff! What doesn't she do?

Brain surgery?

She might. I'd have to ask her, to be honest.

So, what happened? Did you ask her out...?

She asked me round.

I said I was brushing me teeth,

but she said she had a jar she couldn't open and needed help,

and next thing you know, we're having sex.

A romance for the ages.

Yeah, it's her birthday this week,

so I'm going to throw her a party and get her a decent present.

Mattie, could you ask Carlos Velez

if he can spare anything from his puppy farm?

Yeah, I don't think you're meant to give puppies as presents.

Nah, that's dogs you're thinking of.

How would you arrange a party anyway?

Do you just get balloons and that's it, or do you need, like, banners?

Use my assistant.

- What? - Don't organise it yourself.

My guy can do it for you.

You just cover his wages.

All right, yeah.

Cheers, that sounds good, actually. So, a dog and a birthday party.

Yeah! He can sort that, no problem.

Right, well, I'm off.

Where are you going?

Secret, sorry.

See you later.

Oh, he's probably got a girlfriend, too.

We're all at it.

Hi, Janey. Off out?

Stupid question, of course she's off out.

I just saw Janey leaving.

Her name's not Janey.

Oh, sorry.

Embarrassing getting your wife's name wrong.

No, my wife is called Janey. That wasn't my wife.

OK, yeah. Yeah.

Shall we get started?

What's the point of reading again?

Well, I think you'll be better able to engage with the world around you,

might even make you less defensive.

But I'm a defender, I don't want to be less defensive.

Yeah, no, what I mean...

Actually, forget it, you should learn to read

because it'll help you work out what journalists are writing about you.

OK, now we're talking.

This is hard for me, you know.

I know. But it'll be worth it.

Promise you won't tell anyone about this.

- Yeah, of course, promise. - Swear.

- Swear on your life. - Er...

OK, I swear on my life.

Good.

Cos if you do tell anyone, I will fucking kill you.

Yep, you've made that incredibly clear.

I can't wait for you to meet her, you know, Dad.

She's dead funny, she loves dogs.

You know, she's got a decent left foot on her, to be fair.

And hanging out with her is way cheaper

than going the bookies every day.

They are all excited reasons for getting married, son.

I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did.

What, getting sent down for welding write-offs back together?

No, I-I met with your mum, you know?

It didn't work out because it all happened too quickly.

She told me it was a one-night stand.

Yeah, but it doesn't get much quicker than that, does it?

Mate, you are the cleverest person I know.

- Really? - Yeah!

I mean, you're not book smart or,

or street-smart, you know, but you're

smart smart.

And if you think marrying this Rachel...

- Ruth. - Ruth is the right thing to do,

then of course you've got my blessing.

But also, it might be a massive mistake, the biggest of your life.

Thanks, Dad.

That really means a lot, that.

Now, who's starting on Saturday?

Is Benji back in, eh?

One more scoop for Insider Daz before I fly off, back to Mallorca?

- Oh, are you leaving? - Yeah.

Well, the season's hotting up

and them cigarettes aren't going to smuggle themselves - ha!

Potato.

Correct!

All right, that's enough for today.

You'll be reading the papers in no time.

Fuck those people. What do they know?

Well, now you'll be able to find out.

Did you watch the video analysis drive? That's amazing!

New ideas can be scary sometimes, but trying is really all people ask.

Do me a favour and drop that back to the coaching staff tomorrow.

Can't you just drop it off yourself?

I'm asking a small favour.

If that's too much for you, then fine.

No, no, sorry. Er, I'll drop it back.

But don't watch it before you do.

Not sure why I would.

Just don't, whatever you do.

OK, I swear on my life I won't watch it.

You don't need to swear on your life.

- But last time... - No, I know,

but you don't need to this time, OK?

Oh, yeah, that is filthy.

Am I bigger than Chris?

Chris is a worm.

OK, so that is definitely Chris Booth's wife.

Good to get it confirmed via sex.

Can I ask a question about this sex?

This isn't normal sex, is it?

Like, what they're doing, that's not what everyone does, is it?

Petey's wearing a diaper,

and she's humping him with a lubed-up dildo.

It's not normal for me.

Oh! Someone needs the toilet.

- I need to tell Chris. - That it's not normal?

No, that his wife is cheating on him.

- Why the fuck would you do that? - It's a terrible idea.

I think, if it was me, I'd want to know.

Oh, Jesus Christ, water sports!

That's a bit much, boys.

It's Mattie's. That's what he's into.

It's not mine, it's Chris Boo...

Yeah, it's... it's mine.

No wonder you're born-again virgin.

Self-imposed dry patch, focusing on my career.

But anyway, I'd better go.

Got a few things I need to think about.

Bye, then.

Watching porn, Jack?

- Naughty. - Nah.

It was... it was a work thing.

I don't mind.

I'm not a prude. Though, I think water sports

might be a bit much for me.

Yeah.

Interesting.

Then again, some people seem to like it.

I mean, it's kind of dirty, but it might be fun.

Could be.

Each to their own.

What do you like?

Me? Er...

You know, just the usual, some up-and-down mainly,

a bit of side to side...

Yeah, er...

Sorry.

I always forget how shy you are.

Is this all too much for you?

I'm not shy.

Nah, I-I love it.

Listen, we can try anything you like cos I'm not shy.

Starting now?

Oh, I've got a game on Friday, otherwise I would.

But after the game, we can piss on each other if you like.

Chris Booth's winning streak continues.

That's five victories on the bounce for the fledgling manager.

You lot are nutters, but I love you!

Thanks for another great day.

Mattie.

- 11 out of 10 for effort, mate. - Yeah?

Listen, er, would you say that currently you're happy?

Happiest I've been since I hung up my boots.

We're winning, the boys, they respect me...

What up, Petey? Hey?

It's great to see that smile back, mate.

Now, go on, go and get changed, champ. Come on.

Excellent. So much improvement...

Help me get some nice new kicks from the sponsors

before the England meeting.

Yeah, I won't be able to do that.

What?!

It's Ruth's birthday.

I'm organising the decorations, the food...

Oh, and I've got to choose a puppy from the farm.

So I haven't got an assistant right now?

Not unless you've hired someone else.

Jack's paying me this week, therefore I work for him.

Benji!

I couldn't help overhearing cos, well, I was listening.

But I could be your assistant.

I could do it.

Used to be a pro, I know what you need.

What, like a gang bang?

No.

Petey told me that stuff ain't funny any more.

So how about it?

I can work for you, for free.

Or money.

Or free?

Look, um,

here's my card.

Think about it.

Call me!

Listen, Petey, about that thumb drive.

George, give us a minute, would you?

- Did you watch it? - I did.

- And what was on it? - Well,

it wasn't the preparations clips, it was pornography.

Yeah, and who was in the porn?

You were in the porn.

And what was happening?

Well, you were on a dog leash to start with,

and then a woman, who wasn't your wife,

was leading you round a room.

Then what was I doing?

Then there was some weeing

and a lot of you having sex with this woman.

And what positions did we get in?

Well, missionary, doggie...

Did you see me ejaculate?

The point is... is I know this woman was Chris Booth's wife,

and it's probably just as well

that I didn't hand the drive back into the coaching staff.

- Why? - Well, because now

Chris won't find out.

I wanted Chris to find out, that was the whole fucking point.

I wasn't letting Booth's missus rump me up the arse

cos I don't like sitting down for a week, was I?

I was banking on you watching it, then telling him

cos you would think it was the right thing to do.

Why?

Why would you want to upset Chris? The team are doing so well.

I don't care, I want him gone.

Remember what you said to me about Cesare?

You don't want to be the one to stick the knife in.

Hmm.

I've got to know you.

You're a sensitive man.

Do not let your insecurities drive you.

Trust me, you don't have to do this to Chris to get what you want.

Maybe.

- Sleep on it. - All right.

But I won't be sleeping on my back after the seeing-to I've just had.

Benji Achebe,

knocking on the door of the England squad.

Benji, Benji...

- Can I have your autograph? - Yeah, man, come on.

Benji, Benji, are you going to play for England?

- Benji, can I get a photo? - Yeah.

Benji.

I hear England are speaking to you.

Congratulations.

When can we talk, huh?

You did all right here, Brian.

Yeah, I'm good at my job.

You're not, but it looks pretty decent.

- Where's the dog? - Surprise.

How long's it been in there?

Um, er, a while.

Yeah, a while.

Since before everyone arrived, actually.

Right.

It's a nice place you've got here, Jack.

Thanks. When do you... move in?

Er...

Oh! Argh...

It's the wife - "Wa-wa-wa!"

No, it's all good.

No, things are going really well since I got this new job.

You know, really well.

Oh.

Mm, s...

How was he?

Did you tell him you saw Petey getting shafted by his wife?

- No, I've got a lot on me mind. - Yeah.

Yeah. No, yeah. It's probably not a good time anyway, so...

Er, Jack, I don't think we should leave it too much longer

before the big reveal.

OK, well, can you, um, you know, say something,

get everyone's attention?

Yeah, sure thing.

Everybody, shut up and pay attention!

Jack is going to give Ruth her present!

They're ready now.

Cheers.

Right, wish me luck.

Why? What are you going to do?

I'm going to go out on a limb for the woman I love.

What have you got me, then?

Er, it's a surprise.

Could you put on this blindfold?

Oh!

- That's a bit sexy. - Yeah, if you like.

Oh. Nice bow.

Have a feel inside.

Is it soft, yeah?

Um...

Yeah, small and soft.

- Yeah. - And squishy.

Ooh!

Huh?

Er...

What...

What is going on?

Will you marry me?

What...?

Jesus, what the fuck are you doing, Jack?

That is not water sports, Jack, that's sh...

Sorry.

Oh, my God, it's in my hair, it's in my hair.

Well, it looks like Jack's single again.

I knew it - I knew you were useless.

Obviously, we're all delighted

that you've decided to pledge your future to England.

Well, I'm just going to keep working hard and hope for that call-up.

And Olivia said she's dealing with getting the registration back

from the, er... the Ghana...

- Guyana. - Guyana FA.

Now, er, there's one rather unexpected issue that has come up.

Oh, not the Malaysian betting syndicate thing.

That was a genuine mix-up.

No. I'm sorry?

I thought it was a prank.

No, um, I was going to say that, due to sensitivities these days,

we conduct a full social media check.

- Oh, for fuck's sake, don't do that. - We already have,

and there's some, well, concerning material on your feeds.

Listen, you can't prove the Earth's not flat.

Yes, you can. Well, you... you easily can.

All right, what about 9/11 being an inside job?

Everyone believes that one, right?

Benji, give us a minute?

All right, Mattie? I heard Jack gave one of the women's team a box of shit

for her birthday.

True.

So I've been thinking about what you said,

and I wondered if maybe I was letting my insecurity

drive my decision-making.

Good, I'm glad you're thinking like that, Petey.

And then I remembered waiting for things I want to happen is boring.

- Sorry? - Instead of waiting for you

to tell him I've been smashing his wife left, right and centre,

I am going to project our lovemaking

onto the screen during our video analysis session.

"Cunnilingus on your wife - analyse that, Chris."

Jesus Christ, you're a psychopath.

Don't do that. Don't... You'll destroy him.

Er, that's the fucking point, Poirot.

Fine, fine. I'll tell him.

At least that'll lessen the humiliation by, like, 1%.

I knew you'd come around.

Now, when's my next reading lesson?

Boss. Chris.

- Can I have a quick word? - Yeah, course, mate,

what's on your mind?

What is that?

Dirty as all fuck!

Am I bigger than Chris?

Chris is a worm.

You're a snake!

So big!

Hey.

Where is the boss?

Oh, I'm not sure, Pascal.

I want to complement him on his wife's tits.

- Yeah. - Mm.

I think Chris might actually be all right.

- Yeah? - Yeah. Yeah, I mean,

he seemed calm when he walked off,

and his marriage has been on the rocks a while.

Yeah, he'll probably be a lot happier now he's getting divorced.

Football.

Football.

It's fucking football.

Here.

- Have a fucking football! - Oh!

Fucking football arseholes!

You think that's funny?

Do you?

You like laughing so much!

Chris, face it - you've not got the temperament for management.

I did have.

I really did have.

We kept winning!

And then what? Then what happened, I wonder. Hmm?

You lost the dressing room, they stopped playing for you.

You fucked my wife

is what happened!

That is what happened!

So have a fucking ball!

Fuck!

Argh!

So, because of what happened earlier,

Chris has left the club and will be staying in a hotel

- for a while. - Yeah,

a hotel that you can't leave and that's full of nurses.

Obviously, we'd be grateful if none of this leaked out.

And I have some news.

I have just purchased a new car!

And also Petey Brooks is the caretaker manager,

cos now he can screw the manager's wife and no-one'll go crazy.

Not crazy.

We've been over that.

Petey Brooks is a club legend.

He bleeds red.

He is going to be the greatest manager this club's ever had.

Oi, Mattie. Over here.

Petey! Petey!

They said you banned me from the training ground.

Totally pranked me.

- Oh, right, yeah. - Very funny.

- You cheeky fucker. - Yeah, what do you want, Paul?

You're the boss, Petey.

The boss!

So bring me back properly.

A job.

Hey, it'll be like the old times, won't it? And I'll do anything.

I could take training, or clean the kit, or even move the cones round.

Please, mate.

I'm really struggling out there.

I'm drinking just to fill the days, I

I need football.

Help me out, mate.

For old times' sake?

Security!

Classic banter.

Yeah. Security.

Great bants!

Go on your way.

I'll call you, all right, Petey?

Yeah, I'll text you!

That's it, come on.

What did you want, Petey?

What am I called?

- Seriously? - Yes.

What did you want, boss?

I just wanted to say we need to step up the reading lessons.

Really?

Got to keep an eye on those fan forums,

make sure they ain't turning against me.

- You're a good lad. - Thank you.

Boss.

I love the sound of that.

Well?

At least Petey's happy.

Assuming someone says they're going to kill you,

do you think they mean it?

Hard to tell it. Who is it?

Malaysian gangsters.

Yeah, I'd reckon they mean it.

That makes sense.

- Ruth dumped you? - Yeah, let's go.

Are you texting her?

Nah, putting a bet on us to get relegated next season.

Decent odds, to be fair.

What the fuck? What are you stirring for? Petey!

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