Original subtitles

Mister... Horton...

had...

a shag...

..pile...

..car...

pet

installed. Frank.

I don't think this new shorthand is helping.

Sorry I'm late.

Sheep exploded. Nasty business.

Would you like a recap? Quickly. They're popping like champagne corks.

First, the apologies. Then the council agreed to give £200 to the Scots.

What the hell for?

I miss 10 minutes and you go mad.

Why the hell should we give the Scots money?

Calm down. The SCOUTS, Frank.

Oh, right.

We also gave £20...

to the Save The...Chickens Fund. Moving on! Any other business? Yes.

I'm on local radio next week.

Does anyone have any requests?

A bus for the Women's Institute. We're going to see those lovely dancers in London.

The Royal Ballet? No. The Chippendales.

I meant record requests. Did you know I used to be a DJ?

What station? Miss Selfridge FM, Cheltenham.

There was that lovely record about someone's face.

Let's Face The Music And Dance. Torvill and Dean.

Chantilly Face? Hugo, give me a classic.

It has to be Kylie. The question is which?

All right. # What's the matter you? Hey!

# Shut uppa, you face! #

The parish clerk

requested "Shut Up Your Face"

and the chairman pointed out that if he heard that song he'd take Frank by the testicles

and swing him round his head till his screams were heard in Reykjavik.

And now there is just one other badly-timed piece of any other business.

Mrs Cropley. Oh, yes.

I just want to say on behalf of everyone here,

happy birthday, Frank!

Lovely!

Chocolate!

No. Marmite.

You must know some funny stories about Frank.

I know more funny stories about foot rot! He's the most tedious man on earth.

Oh, God! The Dibley Poisoner does her rounds!

Cake?

Eh...

Yes, thank you.

Doing anything special on your birthday?

I manured the dahlias. Oh! Use your own manure?

I don't mean your OWN manure. Although I'm sure it's excellent.

Probably not good for the flowers. Can you forget I mentioned it?

I WAS thinking of going to an exciting exhibition in Whitworth -

"Train Timetables of the 1920s."

Unmissable!

But, unfortunately, I couldn't afford the taxi.

Isn't there a bus to Whitworth? Not for years.

Ahem!

As you know, today is Frank's 60th birthday.

What CAN one say about Frank?

He has a huge fund of remarkable anecdotes about the village.

The day the milkman was 47 minutes late,

the night the pub ran out of crisps

and the year he heard a cuckoo in March... only it turned out to be a pigeon.

Happy days! We often say you should write these wonderful memories down. Good thought!

Instead of telling us... all the damn time!

To Frank!

TO FRANK! Thank you!

I forgot to give you this.

You shouldn't have! Thank you...

It's the bill for the wine.

Can I count on your vote at the election?

Yes.

I hope you'll vote for him, Vicar.

Can't be worse than the one we've got.

Who IS our present councillor?

Mr Completely Invisible?

Mr Total And Utter Dingbat?

Representing the Do Sod-All Party?!

David!

It's you, isn't it?

I think you'll find that the huge majority are happy with me.

No, no, no. Not really.

It would be nice to have a bus. Transport. Like in the 1870s.

Look at my latest campaign leaflet.

A bus service is my top priority. Wonderful idea.

It was a priority last time.

Mmm! Now, if you will all excuse me... (I will speak to you later, Vicar.)

Nibble, Vicar?

It's chocolate spread.

Chocolate? Yeah. You promise? Yeah.

All right, then.

Very...unusual taste.

I put in a bit of tarasalamata(!)

Did you?

Excuse me!

Feeling better, Vicar? Not really. Aww!

I had a terrible night. My bottom had a worse one.

Those chocolate sandwiches!

That woman really is the queen of cordon bleurgh!

I don't know who to vote for. They're all SO nice.

Well...

Oww! Who did you vote for in the general election?

I couldn't choose. I didn't tick anyone.

I just put a big cross at the Tory to make sure he wouldn't get in.

Coming! With a big, sore baboon's bottom!

District councillor, all-round gorgeous guy, we were just talking about you.

Trying to lose me another voter?

That's an interesting emblem. What is it?

Taramasalata, actually.

I want to speak to the vicar alone.

Right.

She'll be back in a tick. She just went to get the front door. I'll tell her you're here.

Alice, look who it is.

That's a coincidence. Your father's here.

You big bananas - you should have come together.

Why don't you two little bunny rabbits hop off and make coffee while we chat?

Hello!

I've got taramasalata on my tie.

Oh, it's VERY nice. Yes. I rather like it.

I didn't do it on purpose, but I WILL since YOU like it!

I'm all ears, David. Well...

Oww! Are you all right? Yes. Carry on.

Don't interfere in this election.

I will not be undermined by a left-wing priest spreading hard-core Marxism.

I see. What was that Socialist tract from last week's sermon?

The sermon on the mount!

Jesus did not tell rich people to give their money away. I think you'll find he did!

What did he say to the sick man? "Take up thy bed and walk."

In other words, "Help yourself. On your bike."

Sorry! Can I just check this?

Are you trying to establish a link between Jesus and Norman Tebbitt?

There are similarities. There bloody are not!

Well, whatever. Yes!

Our Lord very rarely mentioned anything about unprofitable local buses.

Oh, no! How wrong can a man be?

"And the Lord returned from the desert and said,

"I'm worried about the Shopper Hopper."

Yes. And here. "And he saw that they were poor and in deep distress.

"So he built them a golf course."

Got something against golf? Apart from the stupid trousers?

And the fact that the council paid £2,000 to Nick Faldo to open it?

I mean, Nick Faldo!

He's got as much personality as a 6' 4" asparagus!

Nine iron, Nick Faldo - who's more interesting?

Tell me, nine iron...

Coffee's up! Time to go, Hugo. Quite right. I think the vicar

realises that she should keep out of politics. Father sees to that.

And he does an enormous amount on the town-twinning committee. Yes.

The months he spends going to France and Italy on our behalf is amazing.

But we're not yet twinned, are we? No. But he's narrowed it down...

to two places in Tuscany and three on the Riviera.

Look! A lovely picture of you and Mr Horton on his new leaflet.

What's this all about? Time to go, Hugo. Farewell, Vicar!

He gets MY vote. He must the best if YOU'RE supporting him.

Am I f...finally going to get some of that coffee?

I must get ready to go on the radio.

I'm... Oww! Oh, my bottom!

If we take a look at the computer,

we see that David Horton is predicted to get 63% of the vote.

That's a swing of 2% from the Lib-Dems.

Where does that 2% come from? Here!

Owned by Mrs and Mrs Slater 4 years ago.

But they sold it to the Brothertons.

If you translate this district result to the House of Commons,

there's David Horton on the government benches AND the opposition benches.

How did the canvassing go? I went round every house in the village.

Good!

One chap talked to me for ages. Mr Smewen.

He's the LABOUR candidate.

Oh?

I've got him down as a possible.

We spent hours chatting and addressing envelopes.

Addressing envelopes? Yes. I delivered them for him on my way round.

He'd written to everyone. Lovely man.

Have there been any calls?

One. The vicar about the buses. The clergy should keep their communist conks out of politics.

Yes. Oh, here she comes again. Where?

No. On the radio. 'Neil Gittons here on Radio Badger.

'Coming up soon, our nostalgia spot, "We Thought You Were Dead".

'But now talking to local vicar Geraldine Granger

'who's up in arms about a bus service for Dibley.

'We need a golf course like the Pope needs condoms,

'but we haven't had buses for 12 years.' This is outrageous!

'You feel your district councillor is responsible. Councillor Horton.

'H-O-R-T-O-N.' Why wasn't I invited to take part?

'Councillor Horton WAS invited to take part in this programme, but he declined.' I did WHAT ?

'His election agent quotes him: "The clergy should keep their communist conks out of politics."'

See? I got you word for word!

'Geraldine, you've got a request.

'Geraldine, you've got a request.

'Yes. For handsome Hugo, who wouldn't mind a date with THIS lady.

'Well, SHE should be so lucky!'

"I Should Be So Lucky" by Kylie. The classic!

Contraception. Why didn't I think of contraception?

'You a Kylie fan, Vicar? Of course.

'Though I like more "grrr!" Less "ooh!"

'And Madonna? I'm a fan of both - the real one AND Jesus' mother.

'Now it's Ruby Turner...

'And we pray that David Horton

stops playing golf long enough to DO something for our village.

'We're not going to talk any more

'about David Horton... And his abject failure to give us a bus service.'

You were very good. Thanks, Alice.

You've got a special radio voice. Have I? Yes!

You put on a bit of an Irish accent. I do?! Yes.

And a lovely, motherly tone when you did that lemon meringue recipe.

Did I mention the buses at all?

Not as much as I'd expected.

Alice, you spent the afternoon listening to Gloria Hunniford.

Oh!

Excuse me!

What's going on here? We heard you on the radio and we've got a plan. Placards, please.

Right!

Wrong way round, Frank.

After much discussion and debate, we've decided that Mr Horton is a total BLEEP!

No, no, no, no. That's right. So we want YOU to stand for the elections.

Ridiculous! I'm not a candidate,

and the only official organisations I belong to are The Tufty Club and Take That Anonymous.

We've worked out a campaign song.

# Don't you argue, don't you bicker! Vote for Gerry!

# She's our vicar! #

Owen's been working on a dirty tricks campaign, in case anything turns nasty.

That's right. We've got alternative placards.

And an alternative song.

"In the old days, you'd vote for Horton 'cos you thought you oughta.

"But remember, he's not only had your votes, he's also had your daughter."

Have you told anyone about this?

Everyone. Everyone!

He's as doomed as a virgin on a date with Rod Stewart. You win!

Nonsense!

D'you really think so?

Ahem!

Will you be voting for Councillor Horton?

Horton? H-O-R-T-O-N? Yes.

Can he depend on YOUR vote? No.

He's jolly nice. I am voting for the vicar.

Oh, right. Well... she's jolly nice, too.

Hello, David. Something wrong?

Yes. There IS a tiny hiccup.

I'll suffer the worst election defeat since Enoch Powell stood in Brixton on the "whites only" ticket.

Know who they're voting for?

Is it that charming Mr Smewen? Bad complexion...

Not Smewen. They're all voting for YOU.

ME? Little me?

Silly little me and my dog collar? Surely not!

Actually, I HAD heard a rumour. But I ignored it because you are SO popular.

Anyway, I didn't think I could stand.

If Gyles Brandreth can stand for parliament, who knows what's legal.

Well...

if this is happening,

if every nitwit in this mad village IS going to vote for little old me,

it's a looney turn of events, cos I don't want to be a councillor.

I'm glad.

So I'll have to advise my supporters who to vote for.

Mmm! Well! On the one hand, we've got Kevin Smewen,

short, face like an international spot convention

BUT with a very good heart.

On the other hand...

Oh, dear!

Obviously, I SHOULD speak to Clearasil Kev.

But if we could come to some arrangement...

if I could run a few policy changes up the flagpole and see if you salute them,

undress a few ideas, see if you get into bed and BLEEP 'em,

well, maybe, just MAYBE we could come to some accommodation.

How does that grab you? What do you have in mind?

Well, diddy!

We could visit some constituents, make a few election promises.

Vicar!

Mr Horton. Hello...

Letitia.

I thought I'd see if there was anything we Tories can do for you.

Lovely. You're just in time for tea.

Splendid.

Another slice?

Oh. Yes. Who would have thought that raspberry and roast potato would make a tasty combination?

Vicar? Eh...no. I won't. I wouldn't want to deprive David of thirds!

Let's see, you mentioned a bus for the W.I.

Oh, yes. Every year, Mildred and I ask for a small grant for a bus.

Every year we get turned down.

Madness! I believe in the Women's Institute.

If the sex change operation were cheaper, I'd become a woman in order to join

that fabulous organisation. Mmm. Parsnip brownie?

Bliss! I promise you, we will make that grant,

provided I get elected. I'll be voting for you. If that's all right by you.

Yes. Splendid. We must be going.

Jim, my old mate, how are you?

I was just taking a little nap. In your mac?

No, no, no, no. Yes.

We've got this leak in the bedroom, you see.

That's what I wanted to talk about.

The Tories are determined to wipe out all bedroom leaks by the end of next year.

No, no, no. Oh, good news.

Just let me tell the wife. Doris!

Are you busy?

Yes, yes, yes, yes. No. David Horton...

and the vicar.

Yes, yes, yes. YES. Do they want to come in? No, no, no. Haven't asked them!

Have you got a pot on? Yes, yes, yes, yes. No!

I CAN put one on. Would you like some tea?

Mr Horton, did I ever tell you about the time I went to the pub

and they'd completely run out of crisps?

Ohh!

That was MY reaction! Pork scratchings, they had hundreds! Peanuts, lots.

But crisps, not one.

I mean, not a SINGLE one.

I don't know why you haven't told me this before!

You think THAT'S a great story! What about the time when the milkman was late?!

As much as I'd love to listen to these riveting tales, I must go.

But I want to assure you that if you vote for me, within 6 months, buses will run through Dibley

twice a week. Ahem! Day. Ahem! Hour. I think it's only right.

Oh, that's VERY good news. Splendid.

I declare David Horton returned as the district councillor for Dibley and Whitworth.

CHEERS

Thank you!

I'm proud to carry the conservative commitment to Europe further than ever before.

Dibley will be twinned with, not one...or two... but every single country in Europe!

Except Belgium! CHEERING

Come in! Join the celebrations! Thanks.

It's a bit of a poor turnout.

Father got tempted away by Tory cronies. But Bruno and I are having a ripping time.

Lovely! Twiglet?

Please! No, thanks. I think they taste like dog poo.

They do!

I've got high hopes for your dad.

Scratch that crusty surface and you find a kind-hearted man.

Attractive to a certain kind of lady.

It's a shame there aren't more bald women.

Any other business? Yes. Regarding the elections.

You'll be getting MY vote. Frank, the election was YESTERDAY.

Ohh! I'd like to congratulate our new councillor.

Particularly in light of the promises he made! Well...

Unfortunately, I've been scrutinising our local finances, and I fear

that it is unlikely we will have the funds for, well...

the Women's Institute or a bus service. What?!

I'm sorry. You will, of course, have the chance to express your dissatisfaction,

democratically, on October 4th.

1999.

Thank you. Excuse me, I have to go and greet a foreign visitor.

On behalf of you all, of course.

I vote we kill him.

No, no, no, no.

So do I.

I could poison him, if you like.

No-one would ever know.

No. It's too quick. Too merciful. I think we should stretch it out.

Hit him where it really hurts.

Actually increased my majority.

Good news. So, the twinning visits will continue. Absolutely.

You'll enjoy the golf here. The villagers don't really play,

so it's like having my own course. Morning!

Good shot,

Mrs Ballesteros! Be hard to match THAT one!

What are YOU doing here? Playing golf...

on our PUBLIC golf course.

Damn!

Looks like we'll be here a while. What shot are you on, Mrs C?

Hundred and eleven.

Great value, golf. Every hole is practically an hour's entertainment.

Oh, my God! Sorry, Vicar!

A few little holes never did anyone any harm.

We'll go on to the second. Good idea.

You can join Alice and Hugo. The rest of the W.I. are on holes 3-12.

Can I just say, David, this is a wonderful facility. Bonjour, monsieur!

Our pensioners could be out here playing every day. Watch out, Woosnam!

Fantastically good shot, Frank!

That'll soon be a bunker! We might have money for a bus service after all.

I'll need to use one of these heavy wooden clubs. Prepare the ground...

And maybe a coach for the W.I. Perhaps I could come round and discuss it.

Tea-time tomorrow? Perhaps not tea. Lunch. I've got a lovely tripe salad.

Actually, I AM free at tea-time.

Splendid! That's enough golf for one day.

Don't see what you see in it, David.

It's so easy!

# Surely goodness and mercy

# Shall follow me All the days of my life

# And dwe-e-e-e-e-ell

# In the hou-u-u-u-u-use Of the Lo-o-o-o-o-ord forever

# Forever. #

A short one. Two nuns in a bath.

One says, "Where's the soap?"

The other one says, "Yes, it does."

Yes!

Alice,

I'm surprised you got that. Very funny, that. Why?

One of the nuns is deaf, isn't she?

One says, "Where's the soap?" The other one mishears her. Thinks she said something else.

The other one says, "Yes, it does." That's right, innit? Yes.

You should tell that one to your gran. Yeah!

# "In the Hall of the Mountain King"

Escape to Mutiny Bay,

the new pirate land

at Alton Towers Resort.

There are some wrinkles that age you more than others.

That are noticeable,

even from a distance.

I call them deep-set wrinkles.

Discover:

..enriched with:

Now, even close-up, my wrinkles appear reduced

and my face looks softer.

And all this makes me look younger.

Ready for your close-up?

Because you're worth it.

No one torture-tests clothes like kids do,

and these little monkeys are even hiding stains.

Oh, kids!

You need new Vanish Oxi Action Intelligence.

One scoop in every wash could StainInsure your laundry.

- Prove it. - Watch this.

Intelligent stain seekers search out

and help remove the toughest stains,

even those you might not have spotted.

- See? - Wow, that's incredible!

(sighs)

You can't hide anything from Mum now.

She was the kind of woman who loved to be seduced.

And she couldn't resist temptation.

She longed for passion,

excitement,

and the enticing fragrance of new Lenor Black Diamond and Lotus Flower

Be seduced

By new Lenor Infusions

# The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want

# He maketh me To lie down In green pastures

# He lea-a-a-a-deth me

# By sti-i-i-ill waters. #

You know that stuff they're selling at the local shop? Which stuff? I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.