Original subtitles

Every night I go to sleep next to Abby, the woman of my dreams.

It's just a shame there's a wall between us.

She's in her bed, with her boyfriend

again.

Just because the bed's squeaking,

doesn't automatically mean they're having sex.

It doesn't!

6 things they could be doing instead

That should be me having sexy intercourse with her.

Not her boyfriend.

Synchro: mpm & SilverArrow

I've often heard women say men are bastards.

Well, I agree. There are three men in my life,

harassing me.

Hello?

- Jesus Christ! - Hey, Don.

This is the second man.

You scared the hell out of me.

When there was no answer I just used my keys.

Yeah, but... they're not actually your keys, are they?

Yeah, they are. They've got my name on them, look.

"Eddie... Singh"?

My father's a sixteenth Indian.

Actually, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back ten minutes.

Don, can I have a word?

Here's the first man, Karl. We hate each other.

I was thinking...

maybe... you and I should...

go out one night. You know, for a drink?

Recently, Abby keeps forcing him to be nice to me. I can't bear it.

I'm sorry. I'm straight.

I think it's a bit insensitive asking me out in front of your "girlfriend".

I meant as friends.

It's clear you don't really have any.

What? Are you insane in the mind?

Sorry, obviously hit a nerve.

But I have many,

many...

many, many friends.

Don's many many many friends

Did you see that documentary last night about the woman with massive eyebrows?

That was brilliant, I tell you.

Do you mind? I'm just... trying to have a pint.

It turned out, she had a moustache.

Listen, I'll see you next week, yeah? Right.

Do you know that gay?

No, he's just some dickhead.

You all right?

I'd love to stick around shooting the breeze all day,

but I desperately need to wash my balls.

It's like East Croydon in here.

So, anyway, back to where we were with Eddie.

Why do you still come here?

He turns up every day uninvited.

I'm not just a carer by trade. It's in my blood.

Like being a thirty-twoth Indian.

You need help.

A,

remove your hands from my thighs before I remove them from your arms.

And, B, I do not need help, Eddie.

Not from you, not from anyone. OK?

Fine.

- Breakfast? - Oh, yes, please.

Now...

Careful.

- What? What is it? - It's my nan.

That's your nan? What, you don't recognize her?

But she wanted to be buried, not cremated.

She's hardly going to complain is she?

"Oh, Don I'm so cross with you for burning me."

Do you know how much funerals cost? I'm telling you, she must have hated me

because all she left me in her will was a string of debts.

And this lovely big house.

All right, and this lovely big house.

Tell me you at least got something nice to keep her in.

Of course. I got her something from Marks & Spencer's.

Oh, lovely. What?

The bag, from Marks and Spencers.

Are you blind?

Did you know you have to pay to get someone burnt?

- You mean cremated? - Yeah.

Of course. How else do you think it gets paid for?

I don't know. I thought it was on the NHS.

Hello, Danbury residence?

One moment, please. It's for you.

Really? Oh, yeah, I live here.

Now we are out of cow's milk so I am going to go and nip and get some.

Yeah.

- Yes? - Mr Danbury?

Ian Bitchman here, your grandmother's solicitor.

Which brings us to the third and final man.

Ah, yes, Bitchman.

I hadn't heard from you regarding the arrangements for her funeral.

I was actually just talking about that.

- I've decided not to bother with one. - Really?

The will made some specific requests for a funeral.

Really? Like what?

Well, for a start, she wanted an open casket.

Yeah, that... might be a problem.

She doesn't really look very good.

I'm sure the funeral directors are prepared for that.

You know, they'll put a bit of makeup on her, powder her face.

She won't need powdering.

Hey, listen, why don't we cremate her?

Because she wanted to be buried.

Look, I don't mean to sound insensitive,

but who cares?

You know, she's dead. She's never gonna know.

Could I remind you

that if you do not carry out her many dying wishes,

then we have the authority to remove you from your...

Sorry, from her house.

- What? - I'll be

expecting an invitation to the funeral in the next couple of days.

Thank you, Mr Danbury.

Dickhead.

You can wipe that grin off your face.

I was feeling sorry for myself.

But I hadn't banked on this helping me win Abby's affections.

- Are you OK? - No.

Why, what's wrong?

I've got to organize a funeral for my nan, but I can't.

It's too much.

I'm not surprised it's too much. You've lost your only relative.

Oh, you think I mean emotionally?

Isn't that what you mean?

Yes.

If there's anything I can do to make you feel better,

anything, then just ask.

5 things Don shouldn't just ask for

Could you make me a cup of tea?

Naked?

Would you give me a prostate massage?

You know what would really cheer me up?

A massive pie.

You really wanna help?

Dump Karl.

You really wanna help?

Kill Karl.

I'm sure I'll think of something.

What's going on?

Now's not a very good time, thingy.

- Don's a bit upset about his nan. - Oh, yeah.

Sorry to hear about that, old boy.

Actually, if you don't mind, we were half way through hugging.

You know,

got to be honest.

I had no idea you were such a sensitive soul.

It's... very attractive, isn't it?

You don't have to say anything in front of Craig.

It's Karl!

I really wanted Abby to see how sensitive I am by

faking just how sensitive I am.

It suddenly dawned on me, maybe hoaxing a funeral

was a good idea. I just needed help.

Your toes are very tense.

Are toes ever relaxed?

I resent putting on a funeral for her.

- You knew her, she wasn't very nice. - She was always nice to me.

She beat me with a shoe once.

All right, it was a slipper. Actually it was a sock.

But it really hurt.

Sometimes I'd lie on her bed with her and we'd spoon.

- What? - It's nothing, nothing.

She used to call me names all the time.

She used to call me names too. When we were spooning.

- Shut up about spooning. - Sorry.

How am I meant to give her an open casket?

I mean, she's dust.

I'm going to have to use my balls and think of a pretty genius plan.

3 pretty genius plans for faking a funeral

You get into her clothes, climb into the coffin

and then I'll draw her face on your face.

You could kill everyone she ever knew

and, so no-one traces the crimes back to me, take your own life.

I could glue her ashes back together. Yeah?

And hope no-one notices how burnt she looks.

These aren't

genius plans, Don.

My balls clearly aren't working.

Anyway, I don't see you helping.

I didn't think you wanted my help.

I do. Forget what I said this morning. I need you help.

Help me. Think of something, think.

That could...

Think aloud.

How about this?

We go to the old people's home where I work at weekends,

we find an old lady who looks like your nan

then we persuade her, using various pound coins,

to pretend to be her.

That's actually not bad.

Clever balls.

Although you're certain you don't want to kill everyone and then yourself?

It would be easier.

For me.

So after days of Eddie turning up doing stuff for me, he finally became useful.

And so we need one of you lot

to pretend to be a dead nan.

- What? - What?

I think we're going to Debenhams.

No, old timer.

Not Debenhams.

Dead... nan.

And we will pay whoever gets the part

five whole pounds.

I thought you'd be grateful,

it's gonna get you out of this graveyard for the day.

- Can you take me to the toilet, please? - No way, Jose.

Right,

who's up first.

You, you look a bit like her.

Come on, up you pop.

Quicker.

Chop, chop.

She smells dead.

Good.

Do you have any theatrical experience?

I saw "Cats"

in the West End.

Give me five minutes being dead.

- Go. - This is like the X-Factor.

If it helps, think of me as Simon Cowell.

Only I'm not in the closet.

You're out of the closet.

- No, no I was... - Bisexual?

- No, I was saying that I'm... - Bi-curious?

Right, next.

4 of the best auditions

Who let the dog out? Who, who?

This is hopeless.

How hard is it to pretend to be dead?

I mean, they all look dead. You would have thought it would be easy.

I really liked Teresa.

You mean the black woman?

But she's black.

So?

This is the 21st century.

The nan character doesn't have to be white, does she?

Of course the nan character has to be white.

What am I talking about, she's not a character, she's my nan.

I didn't realise you cared so much.

Of course I care, Eddie.

I don't want to lose that massive free house.

Hello?

Is she dead?

If she is, she's got the job, right?

You know, she actually looks a lot like my nan.

I want to spoon her.

Did I get the part?

- Did I get the part? - Jesus, woman.

And so endeth the audition!

- You mean? - Edith Hampshire is my name.

My CV.

You'll see I have 30 years' experience on the boards.

You're a diver?

I could hardly believe it when you arrived.

The chance to act again.

To breath life into a new character.

Technically you won't be breathing life.

But, hey, I love your enthusiasm. Are you sure you want to do this?

- When John Nettles and I... - Yeah, shush your mouth now.

Just promise me you won't let us down.

Of course!

You seem pretty happy.

Oh, I'm feeling much more confident about the funeral.

Good, because I was worried that you might be feeling down

and needing some company.

Oh, well, actually,

I am feeling really blue.

- And I don't mean rude. - You didn't sound blue.

But this...

No, this is...

a heart-wrenching song for my nana.

Right. Well, I'll leave you to it.

- You don't have to go. - Well, I do, because Karl's here so...

Right.

- Bollocks! - Sorry?

"Bollocks is what I thought when you died, Grandma"

It's one of the lyrics.

By the way, you did get a suit sorted for tomorrow, didn't you?

Shit. What am I gonna wear?

6 things you shouldn't wear to a funeral

Well, I think it's extremely appropriate.

Why? Why did she have to go?

Why did she have to go? Come on.

Why did she have to go?

Why did she have to go?

It's so embarrassing when you turn up

and someone's wearing exactly the same thing as you.

Fortunately, my nan never got rid of my granddad's clothes.'

He must've had a black suit or something.

So, the day of the funeral.

I'd prepared a speech and I'd got myself a suit.

- What you doing? - I got some flowers.

Abby thought it'd make a nice gesture.

Don't know why she's bothering. She never met your nan.

What?

Like flowers, do you?

Yes, I do as it happens.

- Flowers are... - A bit gay?

A, that's homophobic.

B, women like men who know a thing or two about flowers.

Well, C, had I said flowers are a bit gay

and therefore they should be killed,

then maybe that would've been homophobic.

And, four, what's all this about women liking floral men?

It's true. You know, they like men in touch with their feminine side.

I've wooed a few fillies with flowers

and cooking.

They like it when you cry, too.

Convincingly.

They look lovely, Don. Are they the ones Karl got?

No, no. No, I got these.

- Really? - Yeah. Thanks.

What are these?

They're flowers.

Yes, I know that, you idiot. What type?

These are...

Daff... a... lily... lions.

- Daffalilylions? - Daffalilylions.

They're kind of a rare, mongrel flower. Very expensive.

Anyway, what do you think?

It's nice.

Wait till you see this.

Haven't finished.

- Possibly too much. - Really?

Too much?

It's black.

That'll be my dead nan.

Right, why don't you go upstairs.

What, just go upstairs?

Just go upstairs.

I'd rather be on my own when they bring her in.

Right, well, shout me when you're ready.

- Come on. - Right, show me to my dressing room.

I want lavender tea

and some scones with the raisins taken out.

Shush.

Right, go through there, old timer.

What?

You didn't tell me it was going to be a fancy dress funeral.

It's not.

Right. So...

It's a black suit, isn't it?

It's my granddad's. I thought my nan would like it.

- No, this will never do. - What's wrong?

There's a corner digging into my flank.

Well, never mind about your flank.

Go to sleep.

Come on.

People are starting to arrive. Come on,

Quicker.

Just be dead,

be still.

- Don't let me down. - Of course.

- When John Thaw and I... - No time.

Who am I? What's my motivation?

Rigor mortis?

Good.

I'm acting, you imbecile!

Sorry.

You're actually pretty good.

John Thaw must've loved you.

I can't believe we were doing this.

I couldn't believe we were doing this.

But how hard can it be to fake a wake?

Thank you all for coming.

Apologies for the lack of church, vicar forward-stroke priest.

Whoever knows which is which, hey?

The lack of hymns and graveyard or...

Coffin.

What is that if it isn't a coffin, Mr Bitchman?

Cardboard box?

That is a biodegradable coffin.

But we can't even see her face clearly.

Now, she did request...

"She did request, she did request."

You're not at work now, Mr Bitchman.

Have some consideration for these mourners.

Right,

as for talk of the baby Lord Jesus,

or him up there, or the Bible.

Won't be doing that, it's not one of those...

Who actually buys into all that hocus-pocus anyway?

Your grandmother did! She was very religious.

Yeah, well, with all due respect, today isn't all about her, is it?

Right.

Some words about the deceased.

When I...

think of my nan,

I think of her...

I think of her...

What's wrong with him?

So, would anyone else like to say something about my nana?

Ah, yes. Treacher.

No, you say it sat down.

I knew Elsie for almost 20 years.

She was like a sister to me,

she was...

This is ridiculous.

Your gran will be spinning in her grave.

No, she won't.

- She hasn't been buried yet. - Right, that's it. I'm going.

No, I'm going to put money on this stupid key thingy.

Yeah, good idea. I would do it myself, but I've got all this going on.

I'll be back shortly.

There we go. It's nice, isn't it?

Romantic.

This is meant to be a funeral.

Not a date.

There's nothing wrong with sexing it up a little.

You're so conventional, aren't you?

- Take the blinkers off, man. - So?

What now?

Why don't you play us your song?

Song?

The one you were working on last night, for your nana.

Oh, that.

I don't think that's appropriate.

Of course it is. You wrote it for your nana.

But the guitar, I don't think I'll be able to find it in the dark,

Here.

Thanks, Eddie.

You're sure you wanna hear it?

Right.

"Bollocks, Grandma's dead

"Bollocks Elsie's kicked the bucket

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks

"Even though you used to hit me with a shoe

"Might have been a slipper, might have been a sock

"Still putting on a funeral for you

"So that must make me

"a nice sensitive, caring guy

"I certainly deserve to live in this house"

Thank you.

Thanks.

You can find that on my MySpace page as of tonight.

Guess who's got the power?

Well done, Kelly.

It's had it's ups and downs and bumps.

But I think it's been a pretty radical wake.

There we go.

Nan?

Is it not finished?

Darling, I'm sorry.

When I saw the blackout I thought that was the end of the play.

It's not looking very good is it?

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks"

I'll be honest, I really didn't think it went that bad.

Mr Bitchman did though and he was threatening to get me evicted.

You did your best.

Thanks.

I was talking to Edith.

Please can I have a word?

He has said that he will consider not repossessing the house.

- Really? - This lovely lady tells me

you've actually taken your grandmother's death very badly.

He keeps wearing her dressing gown.

That's just because I can't afford

the emotional

repercussions of completely letting go.

I miss her so bad.

Why? Why did you have to go?

- I'll think about it. - Thank you so much, Mr Bitchman.

I'd better go.

- It's nice to have met you, Abby. - And you too.

Thanks.

- You are all right, aren't you? - Yeah, great. It's all sorted.

I mean, mentally?

Listen, if you ever want to have a chat

or someone to go out for a drink with...

Then just ask Karl because he really won't mind.

Right.

Yeah. Sure thing.

I might have just about kept hold of the house,

but I was a million miles away from having Abby.

Do you wanna join in?

We could throon.

- Throon? - It's when three people spoon.

I call it throoning.

Yeah, all right.

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