Original subtitles

I thought you two were breaking up!

We are. We definitely...

- Have you got it on right? - Yes.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

Right. I'd better go.

You know because...

You said I should.

Thanks. It's a one-time thing.

- Obviously. - Obviously.

- You're not gonna do your usual taking him back thing, are you? - No.

Are you sure? That's what normally happens about now.

You panic and take him back.

Get dressed, evil spawn.

Eugh. Eugh. You're welcome.

Hey. Thought you might want a better view.

None of our friends have ever split up. Clint and Sally, Clint and Brend

Clint and the stripper whose name I've forgotten on principle.

None of our friends who live this close have ever split up before.

Apart from Clint, obviously.

What about the last two times Babs and Dickie split up?

That was different, I think. Why?

Because there was no Winnebago involved before.

Well, yeah. Let that be a lesson to you.

Oh, thanks. You're welcome.

What's the lesson?

I cannot believe I agreed to this.

Mind the Beemer.

Mind the B... Mind the...!

Oh, well, thanks! Thank you very much!

- Thank you very much! - You're welcome.

Oh! Dab of T-Cut will sort that, bro.

Can you not park this inverted skip outside Eddie's?

Whoa. Well, that's ambulance access.

Anyway, it's only for a few days till Babs lets me move back in.

Are you sure about that? Yeah, she's just a bit crotchety.

Trick is, right, let her anger blow itself out...

I'll play along...

and I'll remind her of all the good times...

and give her lady garden some serious attention.

That always does the trick. As long as you have a foolproof plan.

My front grille needs replacing by the end of the day. Righto. Lend us 50 quid.

Why? Cos your front grille needs replacing by the end of the day.

Look at my shoulder.

Hey, it's been a while since we played paramedics and patients.

Well, you seem OK but I'd be happy if you had a scan.

Yeah, well, don't be such an old woman.

It's fine. It was nothing. Take a few more days off.

It's my Saturday off. We could spend it together.

We could sort tons of wedding stuff.

Oh, um... I'll just get the phone.

Fian-cee. Fian-see.

Fian-see? How do you say it?

Like Beyonce.

Have you met my fiance Beyonce?

Like that's ever going to happen. So that's ironic.

Goes small. I know, it just goes vroom.

All right. I'll call later. All right. Bye, bye, bye.

So you're going in?

- I can't. I've been suspended. - What?

- That was my union rep. - I thought the geezer started it.

I... He's suing. Me and the shelter.

He attacked you. I know. And you beat the crap out of him in self-defence.

I mean, you know, it'll be fine. It'll be fine.

Meanwhile my fists have been designated

too lethal for professional engagements.

Oh, we could spend the day planning the wedding. Yeah...great.

Guys, go to the shop. Get your mum every wedding mag.

OK, Dad. I want venues, cakes,

those funny things you wear in your lapels. Go. How cool is this?

Very, very cool.

What's up? Boxing things up.

I can't cope. Yeah, me neither.

I've just been suspended for doing my job.

What shall we do? Bike therapy. Now.

OK. See you in a mo.

Ring my phone. What? Ring my phone.

I don't think it's working properly.

Abbey still not called then? No.

This is ridiculous. It's been a week.

No email, no text. She's not even accepted me as a Facebook friend.

Be nice, you lot said. Nice girls like nice men.

Yeah, well, maybe pretending to be nice isn't enough, Clint.

Why am I even asking you for advice?

Isn't Babs about to throw all your possessions into a skip?

Yeah, I better get round there.

Maybe it's more of a spring clean than an eviction.

You know, could be... Oh, what's the word?

Cathartic.

Anyway, it's not over till she's got the key back.

Course not.

No-one said it'd be easy.

You did. You should know better than to listen to me on important stuff.

I've just been boxing up all this...

...this history. Can you really leave someone

just because they're a bit lazy and crap with money?

No, but you can leave them because they are epic in their laziness

and brutally bad with money.

I'm drowning, Lil. I love him.

But the water's closed over my head and I just...

I know.

I'll be fine. I'll be fine.

As long as I don't let him...

OK, since you've stopped using actual out-loud words I'm going to go.

Cos, you know, Eddie's turned into Jordan for reasons unknown.

And there are pink thrones and pumpkin bridal carriages to be avoided.

So...give me a call if you get into a real pickle.

OK. Bye, baby. Bye.

Is that you, Lils? You're needed.

Clint needs help. Aw. Tell me about it.

Ha, ha! You've got to help me go to the next level with Abbey.

I tried the sappy, John-Boy

Walton 'kissing then walking away so she thinks I'm a gentleman' business.

- And what have I got? - What you richly deserve?

Shut up and give me advice. You can lord it over me later.

You're good with girls. What do you normally do?

He gets them so drunk that their knickers just fall off.

Or promise them a job in the huge international ad agency he pretends he owns.

You're Batman without your utility belt.

Forget it. I'll work it out myself.

Cook.

- What? - Cook.

Dinner. Have a dinner party.

Introduce her to your friends. Nice girls like that.

Do they?

Well, she'll have to like something else.

Clint don't cook. Cutting stuff up and heating it. How hard can it be?

I'll just call her and take her to Honey's.

That's where we met. That's romantic, isn't it?

What do you two know about it anyway?

Neither of you have scored since sixth form.

Love you.

- Hi. - Hi, Clint.

That's a relief. I was worried you might be hanging in a dungeon suspended by your thumbs.

That would have been more fun than the week I've actually had.

Oh, well, how about I cheer you up then?

I could take you to Honey's. We could sink a few Manhattans,

maybe throw a couple of moves.

Tempting but the last time I was there I was hit on by this sleazy guy.

Well, I'll be there to protect you this time.

You were there last time.

OK, no Honey's.

- There's lots of other things we could do. - Like?

Dinner. How about I cook you dinner? Just you and me.

Just you and me.

Oh, and Babs and Lillie from the party.

And their partners, of course.

Husbands, fiances.

Long-term partners. All...all eating...dinner which I will cook...

er...at my house...tonight.

- You cook, do you? - Oh, yeah, all the time.

I'm a homebody essentially.

I'm highly domesticated.

- So you'll come? - OK.

OK, well, I'll go off and buy some...

um...some er...

Ingredients?

That's the fella. OK, bye.

I tried to stop him buying them all but Dad gave him 30 quid.

30 quid for...these?

You said you wanted to start planning.

Yeah, no, I do, I do.

I've also taken the liberty of drawing up some suggestions myself.

Oh, that's lovely. Yeah.

Oh, I'll definitely have a look at those...later.

You need to give me that key. Hey, whoa.

Don't touch the hot bills drawer without oven gloves.

That thing'll singe you.

Hey, some of them are for presents.

It's not proper to see what a man's spent.

How could this be... Don't flip out, Babs.

There's two, three...

There's nearly £4,000 in unpaid debt.

It was just a few circuit boards, you know,

and a lucky poker run and...

the odd romantic gesture.

Nobody could accuse you of being unromantic, it's just...

We could never afford romantic gestures. We can't afford unromantic ones - like food and new clothes.

We could never afford romantic gestures. We can't afford unromantic ones - like food and new clothes.

What you could be accused of is not understanding

that not opening red bills does not make them vaporise. Here it comes.

Yes, here it does come.

Do you know you're...

You're a genius, actually.

You somehow make me...

seem like the shrew.

Everybody loves the sweet, romantic, spontaneous Dickie.

What is it with Babs and her sense of humour failure?

Yeah, what is it with that? Hm? Money doesn't matter.

Only love matters. Screw you.

Screw you for saying that.

Money doesn't matter, only love matters?

Until love is crushed to a bloody mashed pulp

by the constant, crippling, endless fear.

The fear of every phone call,

every letter, every knock on the door.

Until love is so sick of seeing everybody else better themselves.

Only love matters.

Until you spend the love behind the back of the person

you're supposed to be loving.

Dickie.

Yes. Right, pay attention.

I need you to drag Babs, by the hair if necessary,

to mine tonight at eight o'clock.

I don't see that happening. You've got to persuade her.

Abbey liked Babs, liked that you'd been together so long. Make her come.

Ed and Lillie are coming. I need you two, too.

That's my new brand. I'm a guy who hangs out with stable couples

and is into being a couple stably.

Eight. Actually, make it 7:30 so I can brief you.

Clint, Clint, we are in the middle of splitting up.

I'll give you 50 quid.

- Make it 200. - 100 is my final offer.

Lillie.

- Hello. - Hi.

Turns out your dinner suggestion wasn't completely stupid.

- Apology accepted? - Tonight, 7:30?

Do you want me to come and help you hide the evidence? What evidence?

The evidence that says this flat is owned by a irretrievable shag hound.

They're all in my name, the debts. It won't be a problem for you.

Until they declare you bankrupt and Gina and I get kicked out.

Is that all this is, really? A money thing?

Clint wants us to pretend to be happy...

...at his dinner for this new girl, Abbey, as a favour.

I can manage that. I've got good at pretending to be happy over the years.

Hey. Hey. Are you kidding?

I wouldn't miss this for the world.

I had a bit of a go myself so there's probably not that much

to throw away.

Ah. Let's see.

Surely not in the drawer by the bed?

Oh, good grief!

You're a living, breathing insult to all womankind. I'm a changed man.

Sex toys presumably in the leather bag under the bed?

Damn, you're good.

Sweet Jesus.

Gosh, your winkie must have come

as quite a disappointment after all this lot.

Winkie first, actually.

I only use the toys if I can't be bothered - Whoa. Enough.

Can we not just store them? They're expensive.

'I'm a changed man.'

Can I not just be largely reformed?

- Dear Abbey, I thought you ought to know... - All right, all right.

OK. Now um... Oh, books.

Dad. Yeah.

Something's not right.

Mum doesn't seem to want to work on the wedding arrangements.

Give her time. She's been off sick. She's only just got the magazines.

She didn't do anything all last week either.

Do you think we just...nagged her into saying yes?

Don't be daft, all right?

She's probably just busy. She'll get around to it.

Every woman loves making wedding arrangements.

OK.

But just in case you're wrong, which you often are,

I'll go and see what she's up to.

Anything with sutra - bin. Sexpert books - bin.

And now for the wall...art.

Not my Bob Carlos Clarke.

Rubber-clad women with glass coffee tables on their backs scream 'I'm a keeper'.

Are you serious?

Mum.

Dad and I wondered how the wedding arrangements were going.

I found out you were here and Dad said,

'Go rescue Mummy from Clint's chateau of sleaze.'

Well, he said castle

but I thought chateau sounded more...decadent.

I'll be here for a while. No, stop, while I still have some possessions.

Do you not want me to help you with your food? You hate cooking.

That's true. I've seen those Paddy meals that you make.

Roast potatoes with mash and...chips.

I could help.

- I'm an excellent cook. - Really?

Read them all - Jamie, Nigella, Gordon.

Right. Mary Whitehouse, you're out. Dwarf Ramsay, you're up. Go.

There's the ingredients. We're having Italian.

What about Betsy Reevey?

All in your head.

Tina 'Tits Out' Thompson?

She was the one I left for you.

Who, incidentally, didn't wear a bra because she had sensitive nipples?

From your relentless chewing on them, I imagine.

I have never in any way, shape or form been unfaithful to you.

But you've thought about it. Oh, for crying out loud.

Right, so all that pumping and preening and more pumping, is for my benefit?

Yes.

- Yes?! - Yes.

I stay in shape to look good for you.

Because I love you.

And I always have and I always will.

Except on the regular occasions when I want to beat you to death with a recycling unit hopper.

Well, that's nice...

I suppose.

But the money thing is still enough...

of a thing.

Where are you going? The bottles go in the bottle bank.

Clint's having a dinner party tonight.

Thrilled to hear it.

Seeing as your hormones have turned you into the Incredible Sulk

I thought I'd ask Gina to come over and stop you and Joe fighting all night.

OK.

There's a lovely pageboy outfit there.

Should I order two?

You're funny.

You're a funny, funny lady.

It's like the Rumble in the Jungle.

Ali let Foreman punch himself into exhaustion.

Takes all the blows without replying

then bam, he struck.

That's your tactical role model, is it?

A man who got hit in the head till he got Parkinson's.

It's an analogy. Try and keep up.

You're doomed. You're wrong.

I'm just letting her shout herself out.

I'm trying not to do anything else wrong,

blow any more money.

I'd better go in case an opportunity comes up to do something nice.

What - Oi. Oi!

What - What -

Oi! Oi! Joe!

It's green, Joe.

- So? - It's supposed to be passata.

I can't work with this negativity.

Am I right in thinking that you've never cooked anything before in your life?

I don't see the relevance of that.

And that your mum knew this when she let you volunteer your expertise?

Mum believes that a thorough theoretical understanding of a subject

is a worthy substitute for actual hands-on experience.

You're fired. See yourself out.

Pissus offus.

And take that bag out to the bins.

They may come to this dinner party and rediscover their love mojo.

- Maybe it's just temporary. - It's not. - It's just Babs and Dickie.

- She loves to be cross. He's good at making her cross. - Babs doesn't love to be cross.

And everybody knows what great sex they have. Ed, it's finished.

How can you be so sure? Ed.

- They are not us, OK? - I never said...

OK. You are cute to worry.

- Annoying but cute. - I like it when you think I'm cute.

OK, now it's just annoying more than cute.

We are not getting unengaged because other people are splitting up.

- Maybe splitting up. - Assuredly. - Possibly.

Without question, without doubt, without fail.

Hey.

We're OK, aren't we?

You're such a girl.

Hey.

- All right, GothSheba? - Hi, Sweaty Jock.

- Mum's gonna crack. - Mine too.

I'll be wearing a pageboy outfit unless I start a mag fire when I get home.

You'll look sexy in short velvet pants and a pudding-bowl snip.

Really? Never been more serious about anything in my life.

So baby-sitting later? Yeah. Sorry about that.

Don't be. I'll try not to jump you and steal your cherry on your mum and dad's sofa.

That's a favourite. Um...there's no more room for it.

So I...I might as well use it...

as a nightie.

Kushi. Clint.

Hey.

No, no, no. I don't want the usual.

I want the unusual.

Well, I don't know.

Yeah, just the usual.

A happy frog.

Be quiet.

Sort of er...

That's the noise I make when I fake.

Blimey, you must fake it all the time then.

Well, I do. I mean, I did.

Oh. All these years and I never realised.

Well, you're a man so... Night after night,

over and over with the frog noise,

just to make me feel good about my masculinity?

I'm a good person.

I need a shower before I...

...before we...go to Clint's.

Yes, you stink.

This one's a bit crap.

Well, you can use ours... Mine.

Thanks.

Hi. Upstairs. Living room. Briefing begins in 30 seconds. Go, go, go.

Yep. Go.

You said a hundred. Minus the front grille.

Ooh, you nit-picker. Come on.

I love it when we have our talks.

What time does freak junior hit the sheets?

Get upstairs while you can still walk without crutches.

Just got to check one more site then you can try and kiss Gina.

Josephine, run along to bed. I have things to discuss with Hazza.

OK, Gina.

I am eleven years, four months,

seven days, three hours,

twenty-three minutes

and five seconds old.

So, obviously, I know nothing about romantic love.

Except that it seems to have turned my brother

and Uncle Clint into complete idiots.

You are not to mention the number of previous girlfriends.

Check.

You're not to mention the sluttishness of said girlfriends.

Check.

You're not to make reference to my previous character in any way,

veiled or otherwise.

Check.

You are to emphasise the long-term nature and stability

and all-round Walt Disneyness of your own relationships.

Talk often about how much I admire them and want to emulate them.

All talk of potential divorce

is to be put on hold for this one evening.

Babs. Is there any food at this dinner party? There will be -

after I have been fiendish and Machiavellian.

In summary: my character - lie,

Ed and Lil - truth,

Dickie and Babs - more lying.

Are we clear?

Come on, guys. Please. There's only so many one-night stands one can stand.

We'll see you right, C. Go. Cook.

Right.

She's here, she's he... Don't...

Hi. Too early?

- Shall I go round the block? - No.

Come... Come in.

Hi. Hi. Can I take your...

Yeah...er...scarf?

The others are upstairs. OK.

Hello. Hi. Hello. Hi there. Hi.

I won't shake hands this time.

- Am I late? - No, don't be silly.

Sit down.

- Thank you. - I'm Dickie. Nice to meet you.

Come on.

Come on.

- Your feet stink. - No, they don't.

Definitely Gorgonzola of the toes.

Do you think I'm beautiful?

Maybe to a cheese-loving creature.

Mice fancy your socks, I bet.

- Sulking? - Texting more mature men.

Out of nose range might be the way to go.

Men with more than one joke, Harold.

Oh, your breath's quite nasty too.

That's a long time. Amazing.

But Eddie didn't pay attention in biology

so we had Harry quite sharpish.

And you're a doctor. Ambulanceman.

Cool. You see? It's not cool.

Not 'see'. She's being charming.

Have you never been to a dinner party? I've been to all of Clint's.

So are you a model, Abbey?

Not much of one.

Plumbers' vans and wedding catalogues are my level.

I spend my life dressed up in giant meringues.

You wouldn't catch me dead in one of those.

Is it good money though? It was when I was young.

When you were young? What are you now, 15? I'm 29.

You look like you've just changed out of your school uniform.

Feel free to change back.

Anyway, the work's starting to dry up

so time for me to look around for something new to do with my life.

Clint could offer you a job. He owns a multinational ad agency.

I don't own it though, do I, Babs? I'm just a copywriter.

Really? I'm sure I heard you say to several people you owned it.

Clint is the coolest man in the world. He does.

He writes telly ads where lawnmowers chase each other at Brands Hatch

and stuff like that. Don't you?

How about that main course, eh?

No, no, no, no. Stay. Stay here.

Talk to Abbey.

Who's got a new iPhone?

Oh, yeah. I've got no idea how to use it. It was a shoot freebie.

Do you want me to sort you out some cool apps, Abbs?

I'm sure I would if I knew what apps where.

Applications. Look at this one.

This one here is light a virtual concert lighter.

Why can't you do as you're asked? This ruse would not fool a child.

Shut up and peel lids. If you're here you can't fight with Dick.

Actually, he's been very... Ow! ...sweet. He's trying to change.

You're mixing me up with someone sensitive who doesn't want to nail an angel.

Sorry. Schoolgirl error. Will not happen again. Good. Come on.

Make me tea, Prepube.

- Make me tea, GothSlut. - I'm busy.

Want me to help you out with your stiffy problem?

Yes, please.

What?

'Yes, please' to your kind offer about the stiffy.

Shit, Harry, I'm sorry. That text was meant for someone else.

I realise that, dope. As if I'd ever let you touch little Harry.

- You're practically my sister. - But you said yes, please.

I was being ironic,

letting you know you can't work your address book properly.

He would have got away with it

had he not have written the cheque in crayon.

I needed that Tracy Island.

The rocket came out from under the swimming pool for goodness sake.

Every boy in Britain wanted a Tracy Island.

Not every boy stole their father's chequebook.

I had every intention of paying him back...when I got a job.

You were eight. And he has been ever since.

You can talk. That was a misunderstanding.

You misunderstood that shoving Barbie Make Me Beautiful up your jumper

and heading for the door was not the subtlest way to shoplift.

Hold on. You and Barbie Make Me Beautiful?

Shut up or the wedding's off.

Thought you'd already made that decision.

What?

You've done everything possible to avoid the arrangements, even hiding Clint's condoms.

Condiments. Always hiding the salt and pepper is Lil.

She's a card. That's why we're such good friends. Ssh.

I have not been avoiding the arrangements.

Kind of gang it's great to be a part of. Ed, she hasn't been avoiding it.

You stay out of it. It's not your fight.

Fight? Nobody's fighting. Look, have some sag aloo.

You've been off for a week with nothing to do but make wedding arrangements.

Is that what I'm supposed to spend my day doing,

reading Mills & Boon and choosing between freesias and carnations for table decorations?

I didn't realise it was such a burden.

The okra's crying out to be finished. It's my speciality.

It's Crazy About Curry's speciality. Oh. I thought it tasted familiar.

Don't interrupt Eddie and Lil's fight. We're not fighting.

If you've changed your mind I'd rather you just came out with it.

I have not changed my mind.

No, you never did really, did you?

You just got a bit teared up by Joe writing a sweet proposal speech, eh?

Yeah, that's... You're right, it's time for dessert.

It's dessert. Kush does a mean coconut ice cream.

It comes in a shell and everything.

It's supposed to be a secret, Dickie. You started it.

What are you doing down there, Dick?

Hey? Oh, Texas Hold 'em.

I never play online poker. It's completely addictive.

Ed, you're an idiot.

Oh, God, Dickie. I'm really sorry.

Don't you come near me. I was showing her how to...

Did you ask them to give us a bit of alone time before dessert?

Something like that.

And those showery outbreaks are going to stick around into the night.

Further south tonight a few mist patches,

many of the showers inland tending to die away

with temperatures averaging about eight or nine degrees.

For the rest of the country there'll be a dry start tomorrow...

You have got this out of proportion. Give me that key.

It's great to see you again, Abbey. You are a lovely girl -

if more attractive than is strictly necessary.

Don't get married and don't have children.

Bye, Abbs. Cool phone.

It's nice to see you again, Abbey. I'm sorry about the shouting.

I'd invite you to the wedding but um...

Nice to see you again. Sorry to dash. I have urgent idiots to deal with.

And Clint, you know, not all bad. Mostly but not all.

Thanks. Thanks for that.

Oi. Oi.

Here. In the gutter.

With...with cat litter for confetti

and police sirens for the Wedding March.

Or in St Paul's Cathedral,

me sewn into an enormous silk meringue,

if that's what you want.

Do you not get it, you big, ugly fool?

I didn't...I have not...I haven't looked at the magazines

because of...

because I... Because?

Because I don't need anyone else's fairytale.

I have my own.

And the fairytale doesn't need pageboy costumes

or sodding ice sculpture unicorns.

I've built my heaven right next to you for all of these years

and...and so long as we both turn up,

I think we will we have the most beautiful, the most poetic,

the most perfect wedding anybody will ever have.

Except...

maybe my Ken marrying my Barbie for the very first time

which was also extremely moving.

Why do I always have to drag that stuff out of you?

I don't know.

Sometimes...sometimes I think I've said stuff when...

...when...when I haven't.

Can you get to the kissing bit?

Some of us are trying to sleep.

Sorry.

Don't.

Don't.

I'll do that later.

Can I...

...call you a cab?

I...I ordered my own.

Do you know what I liked about this evening,

disaster on legs that it was?

Authentic, home-cooked Indian food

inspired by the peasant cuisine of Goa?

No.

I like that you cared when it all went wrong.

I like that you're secretly...that guy.

I'll take that.

Thanks.

Sorry, Abbey.

I had a bit of a clear out earlier.

That one has little Clint etched on it in gold letters.

Old Clint.

We'll see.

Most blokes'd chop their knobs off to be with Abbey. Why come here?

Might as well chop it off. I'm getting no action.

I can't help feeling that he has heart too.

Do you know what day it is today? Friday. It's my wedding anniversary.

I haven't got you anything. I didn't think we'd be celebrating.

Good luck today. You're gonna need it.

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