All language subtitles for Married Single Other s01e03 Burning Rubber.eng

I'll do it when I get back. Bye.

Morning.
Hurry up, come on!

Morning, ladies.

99...100.

100, my arse. Oi, come back.

Is it me or is your brother running
in an odd way today?

Hm? Well, kind of aggressive and
low-slung.

Bowling-ball balls.

What? Abbey's still not putting out.

Dickie says you've got a medical
problem.

Yeah, well, Dickie's a moron.

He's president elect of the moron
nation. Not getting any then?

29 days. I've not gone without sex
for a month since I was 15.

He runs like his feet are in wet
concrete.

Give him a break. He's having to do
double shifts cos of Lillie's suspension.

Oh, good. I like my ambulance
drivers to be exhausted.

Do you know what day it is today?

It's Friday. It's my wedding
anniversary.

Oh, crap. What's up?

My virginity's growing back, you're working
yourself silly and he's suicidal over Babs.

My virginity's growing back, you're working
yourself silly and he's suicidal over Babs.

We might as well give up and line
our arteries with bacon fat.

Could you not give Steve and the twins a
quick juggle for medicinal purposes only?

No. I refuse on principle.

That's why God gave us women.

I love this girl. Yeah, well, I've
had enough.

I don't care how beautiful...

And sweet and intelligent. Fragrant
and stacked. She is, she's toast.

If she wants Clint she has to be good
to little Clint or all bets are off.

Spoken like a complete...Clint.

Shall we? Go on then.

♪ It must be love...
Shut up.

♪ Love, love ♪
Shut up.

Why did you bring her?

I was being nice. How was I to
know she's the bendy bitch from hell?

I'm right here, you know. And
then going into upavishta konasana.

Lord, I bet Clint thinks he's died
and gone to heaven, doesn't he?

He doesn't know I'm bendy yet.

What?

And then coming into cobra.

I'm making him earn it. I like him.

I'm making him wait a month. That's
my rule.

Do you guys fancy coming over
tonight

for cocktails or nibbles or
something? Yeah, sure.

You know, as soon as Babs and I have
done our thing.

Eek. Is that today?

Is that t... Please tell me you're
prepared.

I don't want you to... What? You
know. I don't know.

Go into a complete meltdown. That is
totally unfair. I...

It was one time. Two times if you
count Peterborough. Three times is -

I'm gonna leave you guys to have
your fight.

Babs, seriously. I need to get my
job back.

I know it's the crappest money and I
know the building is falling apart

but I just...I love it.

It's what I'm for.

I'll be there and I'll be great. OK.

There you go.

You should help Dickie. I'm not
giving him any money.

You don't sprinkle a junkie with
cocaine and hope he'll look Christmassy.

Help him emotionally. He's
emotionally five.

Should I take him to tumble tots?
Take him for a drink.

Distract him. You take him for a
drink. You actually like him.

Night shifts.

Maybe next week. It's his wedding
anniversary today.

I might be seeing Abbey tonight.
Well...

maybe that's what'll tip her over
the edge.

You do something good for Dickie,

goodness and kindness will shine on
you.

You have to be some sort of Aardman
animated woodland creature to believe that.

Dick, we're going out tonight.

Why? Eddie says so.

And I need sex. You're not having
sex with me.

That breaks all kind of very
reasonable taboos.

Eddie thinks Abbey's got some kind
of points system going on

and I have to rack 'em up like a
human loyalty card.

Looking after you is worth double
points.

All right. Where are we going?

I thought we could catch Mamma Mia
on DVD and then a whist drive.

Oh, brilliant.

What is that smell?

Ugh. God, I hope she gets her job
back.

You're overreacting. She had Matt
and Benny trapped for two hours

defending their attitude to Britney
Spears.

She nipple-crippled Benny cos he
sniggered when she said vagina.

Well, playfully, I'm sure.

She's always on my laptop. I've got
projects outstanding. Bugger.

Bugger, bugger, bugger. Bugger.

Bennett is the chair of my tribunal.

Rod Bennett. He's this pompous
bean-counting idiot.

If that git is in charge then this is
all about the money. I can't...

Hey, you were suspended for
defending yourself

against a guy twice your size who
hit you first.

It won't be a problem. So can I have
my laptop back?

The wife beater is claiming he can't
walk.

Rubbish. Flo checked him over. He's paid
a doctor to say I crippled him somehow.

The shelter can't afford a legal
battle even if they know he's lying

so it's easier and cheaper to feed me
to the lions.

What is that smell? Can I have my
laptop, please? What smell?

It's like burning rubber or
something.

Oh, OK, so every other day for the past five
years some drunk has been sick on your shoes.

Oh, OK, so every other day for the past five
years some drunk has been sick on your shoes.

Every other night you wash your
boots, put them in the drier

and in the morning you are amazed that they
come out the temperature of molten lava.

And yet I'm to marry the most
beautiful girl

in this street or any other.

Go figure.

Mum. Hm? I need my laptop.

No, I've got my notes on it for the
tribunal darling. I'm sorry.

I'll give it back later. Use the old
one in Harry's room. Unlikely.

His hasn't got a built-in camera.

How can I record my blog in that old

Go win your case, Erin Brokovich.

Babs going with you? She's
meeting me there.

Mum, I really need my laptop.

I mean, I've got loads of projects I
need to do.

Mr. Phillips will kill me,
if I don't finish - Joe.

They could take my job away.

OK, Mum. Thank you, darling.

Babe, don't forget I'm working a
double shift. I won't.

Oh, Babs and I are going to Abbey's
to snoop.

OK, it's out here too. It's like
someone is burning tyres.

Babe, I can't smell anything. Yeah,
well, that's cos you're a man

and your nose is blunted by a
lifetime of farting.

True. Bye. Bye-bye.

Flo. Morning, Edward.

Hang back. I don't want people at
school thinking we're brothers.

Everybody knows we're brothers.

I don't want them to think that I
like the idea.

What's this?

Well, I don't want to get too
technical

but it's what we in the trade call a
gift.

So...

Well, I... I haven't got you
anything...Dick.

I...I didn't think we'd be
celebrating.

No. Oh, no, no. I meant...

I meant... So open it.

I wasn't expecting...

You never really did gifts, did you?

Even when we...

Do you mind if I don't?

Um...open it now, I mean.

Oh, yeah, sure. Yeah, no probs.

They're only earrings.

They're just little ones. Cheap
ones.

You don't have to wear them or
anything.

Thanks.

I'd invite you in but um...

Yeah.

Oh, all right.

Why don't you lay on
your front, Mr. Walden?

Do you mind awfully if I do? I don't
want to make a fuss.

It's all the same to me.

I was vacuuming vigorously. There's
no need to explain.

And I...I needed a moment's rest.

So I sat down without looking...on
the remote control.

Don't start.
What does it say on the side?

It says ambulance, Flo.

On the front it says ecnalubma.

Exactly. It don't say pervert taxi.

Remote boy belongs on the bus.

He pays his taxes like the rest of
us.

Why don't he wedge himself on a pogo
stick

and bounce himself to A&E if that's
how he gets his kicks?

To heal and comfort the sick.

It don't get much sicker than a bloke with
TV accessories up his Blackwall Tunnel.

It was a housework-related incident,
he said.

If we don't get any proper patients
soon I'm gonna knock me one down.

Babs, Dickie and Gina are not here at
the moment. Please leave a message.

Good luck today.

You're going to need it.

Out for a walk?
I've been invited to your trial.

Oh, sorry, yeah - tribunal.

Get your chair on eBay, did you?

I'm making it my business to fuck
you over.

It's amazing what you can get a
doctor to sign off on

if you cry a bit and pay your bills
on time.

Oh, my poor back!

Don't count on me doing that in
there though, will you, princess?

As regular readers will know I spend
most lunch breaks

clingfilmed to a range of static
objects.

My classmates like to vary the
location

which I think shows a creative urge

and makes a mockery of the school's
low standing in the league tables.

Thanks, Squeegee.

I don't really mind because it
allows me time to think.

Stephen Hawking became a genius

because he spent hours stuck at the
top of various staircases.

While he waited for help he solved
the mysteries of the universe.

I too like to grapple with such
mysteries

but however hard I try to remain
unnoticed,

some people just take exception to
self-improvement.

Hello, Joe.

Hello, Spud.

Brought your own?

Yeah.

Anywhere you'd like to be today?

If you wrap me up in the science
block

I could watch Mr. Phillips preparing
for biology. Car park it is then.

Joe. Gina.

Where do they get all the clingfilm
from?

It started getting expensive for
Spud so now he makes me bring my own.

And what did you do to provoke him?

Nothing. I was just reading my book.

What were you reading? Isaac Newton's
Principia.

Way to camouflage yourself, Joey.

So, are you ready? No.

Babs. You have to stop me if I get
confrontational.

Yeah, I'll certainly try.

It's not the first time you've had
trouble with the police, is it?

It's the first time in a while,
Bennett.

Hm. You've been arrested...

...ooh, nine times.

Care to explain?

I'm allergic to injustice.

Or perhaps addicted to trouble.

OK...hm.

All my arrests were political.

I know no-one believes in anything
these days

but when I was young I believed
things could be changed

and so I chained myself to things that
I wasn't allowed to chain myself to.

You know, all the usual cliches.

Unfair taxes, smoking dogs

or carelessly-placed nuclear weapons.

But none with violence. No.

I only hit men who hit women.

OK, I was attacked.

I fought back.

But I did not touch his stupid pencil
neck.

You know what? Given all that we do
here

I am surprised to find myself on
trial.

It's not a trial, Lillie.

But we are trying to persuade Mr
Connelly

not to bring a damaging legal action
against the shelter.

So your character and history are
relevant in this process.

No, I mean, why defend your
employees

against fake compensations claims

when it's just cheaper and neater to
smear and then fire?

Wow, it was you who put the grass mohican
on Churchill during the May Day riots?

Unbe-freaking-lievable. Here we go.

Heart attack, my arse. It's better
to be safe than sorry.

He'll be sorry when I lay the
paddles on his bloated stomach

and give him a few thousand volts.
Teach him not to waste my time.

It's better than he turn out NOT to
be having a heart attack.

It's better his wife don't ring the
ambulance every time her useless husband

forgets to chew his food properly.

Indigestion can sometimes feel like
- He didn't need a paramedic.

He needed a burp.

Flo, what first drew you to the life
of the medical profession?

I like to drive fast without getting
points on my licence, cream puff.

Come with me. 'Ello, Harry!
And to avoid any confusion

about whether there's a suggestion of
sex in that instruction, Joe needs help.

You sent me the bloody text.

Ow. Does anyone ever mistake you for
a girl, Harry?

No. Does anyone ever mistake you for
one?

Harry and me are going to teach you
to be ordinary.

But I don't want to be ordinary.

Newton wasn't ordinary. Did you know
he wrote Principia,

the greatest science book in
history,

and then didn't publish it for ten
years?

The achievement of writing it was
enough for him, you see.

He didn't need the accolades of his
peers to enjoy his own genius.

Good luck with the er, normal thing.

Right, OK.

Joe, let's role-play. You are walking
down the corridor

and Spud is coming towards you.

Er, well, which corridor? Doesn't
matter.

If we're method acting I prefer to
be able to visualise.

Science corridor, OK?
Not getting to you, is he, Gina?

No, we're setting the scene, aren't
we? Yes.

OK, you're walking down the science
corridor and you see Spud - Er, Gina.

What, Joe?

Well, there are three corridors in
the science block.

Biology, chemistry and physics.

Which one?

Biology. You're walking down the
biology corridor and you see Spud.

Um, er, Gina. What is it now?

Spud doesn't do biology. Told you.

He won't stop until you gnaw your
own leg off to escape.

He's not doing biology he's just
walking - But Gina.

What, what, what?

Sorry, I don't mean to be annoying
it's just that...

the biology corridor connects
biology with physics,

so it's not a through route to
anywhere.

So unless Spud was doing either
biology or physics he'd have no reason -

What if he were just walking through
the corridor

to find you so he could kill you?!

Ah. And there we have it.

Now this psychological profile is
all very well, Mrs. Trench.

But I'm not sure of its relevance to
this tribunal.

Aren't you Miss O'Rourke's friend?

She is a qualified psychologist, you
rude dipstick.

Child psychologist.

Child psychologist. Yes.

Open University.

Oh, the Open University.

Did they teach you to recognise the difference
between children and adults at the OU?

Yes, I'm sure I read it in a book
somewhere.

And which would you say Miss
O'Rourke is?

That's a tricky one. Bit of a
petulant child sometimes, actually.

Thank you very much for coming in and offering
us your highly expert assessment, Mrs. Trench.

Just try and breathe through it, love.
Don't love me, you incompetent butcher's boy.

Get me some drugs!

Have another little toot on the gas
and air.

They're sending her straight home
again, right?

Braxton Hicks. Not due for a
fortnight.

OK, that's it, that's it.

No blood, no ride in the Flobulance.

I'll reverse over the next ingrowing
toenail you load on to my vehicle.

It's our vehicle, surely.

My vehicle. You're my assistant.

Since when? Since I demoted you for
being a whingey, white-boy sucker

that treats people with overtight
shoelaces like they're actually sick.

This is going to be a long shift.

I didn't know what you liked so I
bought everything.

Surf...

Turf... and...

Well, chicken.
Chicken works for me. Good.

And a double tall skinny latte
with cinnamon sprinkles.

Close enough. Cool.

So...Eddie...

thinks you've got some sort of
points system going

to qualify as your boyfriend.

He keeps suggesting sappy things I
need to do to rack 'em up.

Listen to your friend Eddie, he
sounds smart.

What, seriously? Oh, yeah.

OK.

So how am I doing then with this
points thing?

Very poorly. You're in the low
twenties. Oh, right.

And what's the target again?
A thousand.

A thousand?!

So what do I get for rescuing a
kitten from a tree?

That's five points.

Five? Harsh.

Helping an old lady across the road?
Also five points.

Kitten stuck up an old lady?

OK, you lose points for smut.

Well, I am taking Dickie out tonight
to try and cheer him up.

I could cancel. You shouldn't.

That right there is 50 points.

How long does this pointy thing
last?

Well, I wouldn't want to string you
along for more than a year

because that would just be cruel.

Sorry.

Cock-up.

Meltdown.

Disaster.

Cockmeltsaster.

I wouldn't worry about it.

I think I'm just stressed out about
the anniversary.

Nah.

You're just shit at any kind of
public speaking

and it was my fault for bringing you.

I'm sure they'll see sense. No, they
have to fire me, Babs.

It's either that or, you know, close
the whole shelter.

It's OK.

Lillie. Mm.

Naturally I have great sympathy for
the centre

given the support you've shown to my
family.

When we look after your wife after
she's sick of being knocked about.

You're not helping yourself, Miss
O'Rourke.

I'd be happy to drop my legal action
against the centre

as long as I could be sure that
people were safe within the grounds.

Now, I'm sure that with treatment
and counselling...

Miss O'Rourke would be able to
come to terms with her issues.

I'm just not sure that this is the
right environment

for that process to take place.

Well, thank you very much
for coming in, Mr. Connelly.

Well, unless anyone has anything
else...

Actually, there's just one thing.

Excuse me. Oh!

Er, no, no. Stop it. Argh.

I've been attacked. I've been
assaulted.

The police. Phone the police.

Mr. Connelly can dance
as well as act.

Oh, my poor back.

Get up and bugger off.

I got my job back. My crappy,
low-paid, high-stress job.

Hello.
So?

I won. Ah, I told you. Are you home
yet?

Yeah. If you can call it home when
it stinks of burnt rubber.

Thanks, neighbours!
What are you doing?

Going to see Joe. He left his
lunchbox. Then I'm back on call.

If you find him tell him that his mum
is the winged angel of justice

and that all who cross her will be
doomed to humiliating failure.

Maybe you should lie down in case
that giant head overbalances you.

See you later. Bye.

Bye, Lil.

You forgot your lunchbox. That's not
like you.

Dad. Yeah, Joe.

Gina thinks I should try harder to
fit in.

How do you mean, little friend?

She thinks I should be less...

Mm... Well, be less...

Gina's a good girl.

Big heart under the school T-shirts.

She is. She has.

So what do you think about her idea?

I guess I could try, you know.

Fit in more. Be less...

Be less...

Just be less.

Well, try and fit in if you want,
Joe.

OK, Dad. But don't you ever be less.

That'd be a shame.

OK, Dad.

Come here.

I did try. I put the cover of Harry Potter
And The Order Of The Phoenix over Principia.

And yet here you are, a human
crossbar.

Apparently any kind of voluntary
reading counts.

Spud's playing in the wrong
position, of course.

He's got strength and speed and, of
course, height

but from up here it's clear he's no
finisher.

Spud!

If he were to draw back and play
more of a Rio Ferdinand role

he'd change the dynamic of the team.

Oi, Spud! Get yourself over here and
I'll show you my tits!

Go on, go on. Aye aye, Spuddy boy.

Afternoon, Gina. Here I am. Pop the
puppies.

I'm not really going to show you,
moron.

But I am going to tell you how to
win this game.

Or rather Joe is.

So I ended up the Fabio Capello of
the school team.

Watch out for the run-up. Visualise
the line.

Spud's interpretation of my coaching
was questionable.

Now interpose physically.

Hit him.

Yes!

We still won 5-0.
Good for you, Joey.

Surprising.

But preferable to being clingfilmed
to stuff while denying who you are.

I'm not coming. I'm not in the mood.

Well...I'm not in the mood either.

Which is why God made beer.

There you go.

So...

how is it?

It's great.

It's funny that.

Looks like shit from the outside.

I'm a happily married man.

Unfortunately...my wife isn't.

Does it remind you of Mum and Dad?

Not really.

Dad ran off with the woman who
dry-cleaned his trousers.

It's not quite the same situation
here.

You're a better man than him.

Although your clothes aren't as well
pressed.

Come on. We may as well make a night
of it.

It's Dickie and Babs' wedding
anniversary today.

You're mistaking me for someone who
gives a crap, Edward.

Joe's got something going on at
school, Harry and Gina had a fight,

Lillie's got an air freshener fetish,
Clint and Abbey aren't on the same page.

Don't mistake me for someone who won't
stab you if you don't stop whining

about your white middle-class
relationship dramas. Shut it!

I'm working class.

OK, I'm shutting up right now.

So...how's...

What is it you do again? Work.

Oh, I've heard of it. Yeah.

It is a difficult concept for you to
get your head around.

Is it warm enough in the Winnie?

Well, it's boiling hot in the day,
freezing at night.

Too big to drive, too small to live
in.

Other than that...perfect.

Sounds... Yeah, sounds nice.

Here, mate. Keep the change.

Right. Old Irishmen moaning into
their Guinness...

...or young Brazilian girls writhing
around in cages?

Hi. Hello.

Hi. How are you?

Ooh, girl's apartment.

Hey, hey, there's no trainers in the
hall.

And there's no crayon on the walls.

There's no shapeless Y-fronts on
radiators. We should live here.

We could bypass getting to know each
other and go straight for being roomies.

It's a running machine.

And, oh, like a stretchy sort of
Pilates device

slash sex harness thingy.

I actually think there's not enough
room for all three of us, Babs.

Aw. She was never loyal.

OK, Pimms, wine or vodka?

Yes.
Which one?

All three, please. OK. And then I'll
unpack.

Cos then you said, 'Thanks, Mrs
Randall. Just the one'll do for me.'

Do you remember?

All right, you've done your duty.
Can I go home now?

No. A) it's too early

and B) you haven't got a home to go
to anyway.

Do you want a napkin? What for? For
the drool.

I'm just concerned about her
welfare.

She might be trying to gyrate the
letters to let me out, I need a pee.

Abbey would have the same worries if
she were here. Well, she's not.

So I'd rather look at the nice lady
trying to shake her bones loose

than your miserable face.

What are you doing, Clint? Huh?

Most blokes would chop their knobs
off to be with Abbey.

Why are we here? Might as well have it
chopped off, the amount of action I'm getting.

Why are we here? Might as well have it
chopped off, the amount of action I'm getting.

That's a test, fool.

You do know that? Yeah, course I do.

And I intend to pass with flying
colours.

I'm looking for likely candidates to lift
you out of your anniversary-inflicted gloom.

I'm looking for likely candidates to lift
you out of your anniversary-inflicted gloom.

That's why I'm going to talk to the
Brazilian with the obvious Brazilian.

For you, brother.

So, is Clint going to get lucky and
if so when?

And can we have a full written
report

cos you are the first girl he likes
that we like?

Not much of an achievement though.
No. Slappers. All your predecessors.

All of them. Yeah. Not that there
have been hundreds.

OK, you have to stop talking now.
Right, absolutely.

Definitely not more than...
A hundred.

No, I'm not listening.

Seriously though, we joke about
Clint

but underneath the layers...
And layers...

of crappy posing,
he is actually all right.

Hello.
Hola.

My brother, the one over there

with all the muscles and the face
like a smacked arse,

would like you to join us for a
drink if you get a coffee break

from the whole sweaty, frolicking
extravaganza.

Do you get a coffee break?

Maybe. And would you care to share
it with my brother at all?

What about you? What about me?

You want a coffee break with me?

Well, no, my mission was - Your
brother looks sad.

He have sexy muscle but he look like he just
get dumped and is not looking to move on.

But you, on the other hand,

look married.

Really? Yeah, but you look like
dirty fun too.

I like you. Do you like me?

You said brother as a cover maybe?
No, no.

No? You don't like me?

Well, that's cool. You're the first
man not to like me

when I'm nearly naked and covered in
sweat.

No, I do like you. I just wasn't
using him as a cover.

I have to dance a little bit more.

Then maybe...maybe...I get this
coffee break.

So, will we marry come springtime?

Maybe.

Hey. There's plenty of
rope in the room, Clint.

I'll let you decide if you want to
hang yourself with it. Hey. Oi.

Dickie, hold on.

Whoa. I feel like escaping from this
prison.

Well, don't you get time off for
good behaviour?

No. Only bad.

I drink tequila.

I don't recall you actually
answering the question there, Abigail.

What question? Clint, keys, chastity
belt.

You know, possible hand-over date.
Nice touch. Thank you.

Well, you know I'm making him wait a
month

just to make sure he's not after a
quick shag. Hell, yeah.

That's good. Ooh, yeah.

I know that Clint has history.

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

I suppose the dinner party was quite
sweet.

He threw away all, you know,

the really quite expensive erotic art
that he bought.

So when's the month up?

Tomorrow.

In fact, technically...technically
tonight at midnight.

He doesn't know, does he? Mm-mm.

You should call him. Yeah? Oh, yeah.
Yes.

We should go.

I just...

Get out. Good luck.

Bye.

This is Clint. Leave me a message. If
you're fit enough I'll call you back.

Your message is wholly juvenile.

I'm just calling to see if you've
finished your good Dickie deed.

Give me a call. Bye.

Stop, stop, stop.

Just kissing, yeah?

Interesting.

Yeah.

Yeah, haven't you heard?

That's all the rage these days.

You're in love with someone but
she's not putting out.

Look, I... I have
to get out of here.

Can I drop you off somewhere?

Why don't we go back to your place?

I want to show this girl how
to give you a regular despunk.

Just kidding.

Drop me off on your way home to life
of monk.

164, 164. Emergency West 10.

You said you wanted a real patient.

I thought about taking a bus.

But I kept falling over sideways.

Didn't want to squash the other
passengers.

That's OK, Charlie. Just try not to
talk, eh?

I don't want to be any trouble.

Scared of your partner.

Pretend it's serious. She's not too hot
on the medical stuff. We can fool her.

Right, OK.

OK.

So. So.

Up-and-coming area.

Do you want to be up-and-coming
again?

I forget, what's her thing? Grade
four astrocytic brain tumour.

Late stage.

Ed? Yeah?

Do you think
she could slow down a tiny bit?

Does the rocking hurt? No, no.

It's just that smell.

Smell?

Of burning...rubber.

I'll get her to cool it a bit.

Charlie? Yeah?

Have you smelt that smell before?

The burning rubber. Yeah.

There's a junkyard near my flat, I
think.

Although I've never found it.

Bastards are always burning stuff.

I don't want to be a fuss...

...but do you have anything for the
pain?

My head hurts...a little.

Move on, Dickster. This time it's,
like, serious.

Yes.

Please call me back. It's not really
fair. I've not really done -

The only thing wrong with me is I'm
with an Olympic standard old woman.

The best way to prove it is to take
a few tests.

You're pretty for an undercover cop.
Natalie.

Sex is war. Us versus them.

Invasion, occupation, subjugation.

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