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Babes, I've missed you so much!
Ah!
Oi, come here! Give it to me, take it off!
OMG! Leave me alone. You look like Joan of Arc.
Just out of interest, Friar Tuck. How are the merry men?
My dad did it. What look was he going for? A young Ann Widdecombe?
Enough about mushroom head. Guess what I come back from Malaga with.
Your virginity?
Is it, like, well spiritual and shit?
Nah, it's my Chinese order - spring rolls, prawn toast, duck.
Did your parents go ape?
I can do what I want, cos they're getting divorced. It's the nuts!
Which one of them gets to keep the caravan?
How many times do I have to tell you, Billy Elliot? It's a static home.
It's got wheels on it. It's a caravan.
That means you're a caravan. Do they do Big Fat Gypsy Divorce?
Where's Alfie? Probably chipping his dick out a sock with a toffee hammer.
Right, if anyone laughs, they're getting expelled.
My dad did it.
What's up, homeboy?
Oi, Little Lord Fondleboy!
Mumford and Sons called. They want their gay one back.
Very clever, Grayson, but A, the reason you don't like
Mumford and Sons is cos you're too young to appreciate
a good dinner party anthem when you hear one
and B, I've got a girlfriend - Miss Gulliver.
Did you not get that problem with your arsehole fixed?
I can hear it talking again.
Check her Facebook status, mate.
Changed yesterday, to "in a relationship".
P-Widdy, you're looking fit and healthy.
Let me guess - no carbs before Marbs?
I went on a moose shoot in British Columbia.
What, and no-one shot you? Thankfully, no,
which leaves me able to fetch my gun
and murder whatever monstrosity's nesting on your head.
Good to see FC Banterlona stayed fit during the off-season.
And how did you spend your holidays, Mr Fraser?
Trying to master the art of lacing your own shoes?
Oh, no, still wearing these bad boys.
Every morning I wake up and thank God I still have size five feet.
Now, first staff meeting of the new term
and it's Abbey Grove's swimming gala this week.
Which means it is the sweepstake.
?10 in. Winning form teacher takes the pot.
Why do we have to be so competitive?
We should be celebrating each and every child taking part.
Show me the money, woman.
No, I won't, because I believe very strongly...
Hey, babe. Don't worry, I got this. Listen, Izzy,
if she says it ain't happenin', it ain't happenin'.
I've got your back, babe.
Now, light bulb - ding!
We all know how the UK recently hosted the greatest show on earth.
The Olympics. Close. The Paralympics? The what?! No, Splash!
I thought we could end the gala with a synchronised diving competition.
Synchronised diving? My class would rather take a running jump.
Shame you won't get your grubby little paws on this money.
Legal bills can be oh-so-ruinous.
Legal bills?
Well, I presume you're not letting your hairdresser get away with that.
Cheryl Bowl. Back off the bob, bitch.
And anyway, I bet you my class win something.
Yap, yap, yap, yap, yappity, yap, yap. You're on.
Um, sorry, just to clarify, I didn't mean betting actual money.
Well, if you win a single event, I'll match the pot.
That's, like, ?200.
Well, you could spend it on Pokemons.
Why would I spend it on Pokemon, when I've already caught them all?
More graceful back and forth - Ballroom Banter with Banton de Beke!
Ten!
Guys, you need to bring your pyjamas in on Friday.
Are we having a sleep-over? Can I be the little spoon?
Er, no, we are learning swimming safety. Why? We live in Watford.
We ain't going to drown in a flood.
Yeah, well, YOU'RE not. That is the one advantage of living in a caravan.
If there is a flood, you can just move to higher ground.
Well, at least I don't look like an Amish rent boy.
Whatever. Look, we're learning swimming safety
so we can all enter the swimming gala!
But we never do the gala! Well, we do now!
And we are going to wipe that smug look off Pickwell's face
and, in doing so, win me a cash bet.
And you know what that means - group trip to Nando's on me.
All we have to do is beat Pickwell at one thing.
And I reckon we've got a chance this year,
because there is a new event, synchronised diving.
It's someone's opportunity to become the next Tom Daley.
Fierce! Count me in. I'll be like Usher with gills. Hashtag Werk.
I knew I could count on you, Stephen.
Now, you're going to need to pick a partner.
Unless, of course, anyone wants to volunteer themselves?
Jing, maybe? You peeps are notoriously good at the old diving.
You mean Chinese people?
No. I meant people who wear glasses
and are, um, Sagittarius.
Firstly, I'm Virgo. And secondly,
you may think you've disguised your prejudices, but you don't fool me.
Classic Sagittarius.
I'll do it for a beer at Nando's. Done!
Now, on a separate issue,
I need to do something rather special for the old ball and chain.
My girlfriend, Miss Gulliver.
We had a little bit of a lovers' tiff in the staff room
and I want to make things right.
I've got a brilliant idea. I need your help.
Alfie, are you OK? Joe told me that you'd been to hospital.
Yeah, doctor said someone had stolen my heart.
You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now, would you?
Alfie, we're not in a relationship.
Then why did you put it on Facebook?
I put that I'm in a relationship. Which I am. Just not with you.
I don't understand. What... You... Who is it?
Tell me who he is and I will fight this tag-nut for your hand.
Alex Scott.
Alex Scott? He sounds shit.
No, Alex Scott. I used to teach HER.
Alfie, I really, really didn't want to have to tell you like this.
You're going out with Alex Scott? She's, like, 20 and... hot. Yeah.
And a girl! And, sorry, more importantly, she's your pupil!
WAS... Years ago.
I don't know what to think!
I am angry and aroused and upset.
And mainly aroused. And confused.
I didn't think the idea of lesbians could make me this miserable.
I just... I like her. I like Joe, I'm not going to bum him.
This is completely different. Is it?
Sorry, what would you be like if I was like, "Oh, last night,
"I was helping Joe with his homework and one thing led to another
"and I just ended up tugging him off into his Encore Tricolore"?
I'd say, "Why are you teaching him French?" You know what I mean.
Look, I love you!
See all of this - the petals, the candles, the Michael Buble.
Does anyone really like Michael Buble?
He's just a shit Michael Ball.
I realise that this is a strange, highly emotional time for you,
but how dare you take this out on the Bube-ster?
She didn't mean it, Michael.
Please don't go. I'm sorry.
Fine! Bye, then!
I'm off to find one of the boys in my class to see if he fancies a bumming!
Mr Wickers.
These are the Wilsons.
They were thinking about sending their child to Abbey Grove.
Shall I show you back to the car park?
Sir, why haven't you dealt with that bowl yet?
Right, for the last time it's not a bowl, it's a man bob.
Not gigi. And the reason that I haven't been able to deal with it
is cos I've been busy picking up the pieces of my broken heart.
Ah. Miss Gulliver's no biggie, sir. Every girl has a minge binge.
Minge! Maybe the reason they become lesbians after they've got with me
is because they know that it's never going to get any better -
like when Sir Chris Hoy retired after London 2012.
Want me to be your guinea pig? You can kiss me and see if I turn,
like a lesbo Twilight.
Sir, so what if Gulliver's exploring her boundaries?
Sexuality ain't a rigid set of definitions.
It's a spectrum and we all fluctuate between its many polarities.
Plus yat on yat is fit, innit?
And he's back.
Joe's got a choad!
Guys, can you hurry up, please?
Piss off, Savile! Sir's perving on us.
I'm ready, sir. Hope the water's warm.
I'm not looking. Chantelle, I told you to put your pyjamas on.
I sleep naked. Go and get some clothes on now!
This leisure centre is minging. Joe, you don't sleep in a duffle coat.
I do when it's cold. Please don't make me swim, Alfie.
Mate, you should be used to having wet pyjamas!
Is that my shirt? It's all I could find. Do you want some breakfast?
Look! It's my XXL conny!
It's a verruca sock. Argh!
Where's the lifeguard? She'd better be a sort.
Don't worry, mate. They always are.
Oi, Jing. Get your harpoon out. I've spotted a whale.
Sit down, you grubby little toads!
Hi. I'm Mr Wickers.
You too. I'm the form teacher.
Sit! My name is Joy. Before you begin, a couple of ground rules.
I don't like children, but I do like my kit.
And take extra special care of Thomas.
Oh, her dummy's got a name. Rules. No diving, no bombing,
and no petting - of the heavy or light persuasion.
What's petting? Why don't you show us, love? Give us a kiss!
Do you want a faceful of congenital herpes? Thought not, squirt.
And finally, no running!
We had a lad used to run round, ended up cracking his head.
He can't run any more. Eats through a tube and shits in a bag.
I think what Joy is trying to say is that water can make this surface
very slippery.
Wasn't water. He tripped on a crutch.
OK, er, back to swimming. Has anyone got any questions for Joy?
Yeah. Is it true the water changes colour if you piss in it?
Yeah. It goes yellow. Tods turn the milk chocolaty.
Someone's done a dump in it? Wasn't my fault, you weasel.
I've got a spastic colon. Speaking of which...
Ooh.
Sorry. Aren't you going to help me with this? Nature calls.
That Ginsters Scotch Egg Bar's tipping the concierge.
Think it wants to check out.
OK.
That was Joy. Charming little thing.
Right, left, left, left, right. Halt!
Right, resuscitation.
Oi, look, sir, shag of life!
Mitchell, put that down!
Now, Mr Wickers has got it into his septic tank of a head
that he stands a chance of competing this year.
Get off! Mitchell, stop it!
Any hole's a goal. Let's make it airtight.
Mitchell! Thomas! Get off my husband!
Right, well, I think we can rest easy.
Stop looking at me. Cheeky wee bastard.
Ah! Miss G!
I'm very concerned about the swimming gala, Fraser.
Can I interest you in a lager? Or a stout?
I tend not to drink before 10.30am. A selection of guest ales?
Look, Miss Pickwell is insisting her children starve themselves,
in order to achieve Olympic-standard body mass.
Darts?
I'm going out with a woman, Fraser. I'm not a man.
Oh, there it is. I had heard you'd kissed a girl and you liked it
and that's totes coolio on so many levels. Kind of explains why
you've never really wanted a slice of the Fray Bantos pie.
Mm-hm... Yup, hit the nail on the head.
Yup, so now that "us" is off the table, we can let it all hang out.
Oh, wow. Oh, new Speedos tend to have very little give.
I'm just breaking in the gusset for later.
Look, this is a point of principle, Fraser.
Either you excuse my class from competing
or we will take part in a non-violent protest at the gala.
I thought you'd be more into this swimming lark now. Why?
Clare Balding?
Argh. Motherfunkster.
Oi, numbnuts. Why are you wearing goggles?
Er, because I have a severe chlorine allergy.
I don't want to get any splashback from this bad boy.
Wait, you've got webbed feet, but you can't actually swim?
I know, Jing. God can be a cruel mistress.
It's like giving the Pope a big willy.
Right, I am going to throw this plastic brick into the pool
and then each of you is going to take turns to dive in,
collect it and then swim it back to shore.
What is this preparing us for?
You know, Jing, learning is a lot easier
if you don't ask any questions.
OK, so who's going to go first? Joe, want to get it out the way?
I will. All right, Stephen, you're up.
Oi-oi! Argh! Mitchell!
Mitchell! Stop splashing me! I'm allergic.
I need to throw the brick in first. Get out of the pool!
Come on, throw it.
If you aim at me head, it ain't going to go anywhere near me. Mitchell, get out!
Or what, you'll come and get me, goggle rash? Throw it, you melt.
Fine!
Oh, shit!
Sir, help him! I can't go in, I'm allergic!
Quick, do something! Is he going to die?
What?
Where's Joy?
He's dying!
JOY! Sir! JOY!
Come on, you bastard. Work with me.
All right, I will buy a second beer at Nando's
for whoever saves Mitchell! Right, get in!
Coward.
Stephen, you can stop doing that now. We've lost.
Can't someone else dive with me? We've been over this.
Jordan and Raj are injured. Rem Dogg is, well, Rem Dogg.
Girls?
How can you all be on your periods at the same time?
Women synchronise too. Me and Chantelle started Monday...
Please don't! We might as well just accept Pickwell's won.
Joe's not competing in anything.
I'm on my period too?
Blobby's on the blob! I told you he had a fanny!
I thought you were concussed? Oh, me head. Argh! Come on, Joe.
All we need to do is win one event.
No way. Everyone's going to laugh at me.
Why would they laugh?
Last year, I wasn't even swimming, I was just putting out lane numbers
and Grayson got the whole school to do the Moob-Bot.
The Moob-Bot?
Oh, that's clever. But you can't let Grayson win.
But I can't dive. It's not about diving. It's about synchronising.
You do something, no matter how shit it is, he tries to copy it.
We might get lucky.
But if it's so easy, why can't you do it?
Oh, how many times? Chlorine is my Kryptonite.
One drop of that shit
and I go from Jamie Redknapp to Harry Redknapp, like that.
Now, come on, buddy. I believe in you. We all believe in you.
Inspire a generation. Hashtag YOLO.
YOLO, Joe. YOLO.
YOLO, YOLO, YOLO, YOLO, YOLO, YOLO, YOLO!
Can you buy me three beers? Everyone can have three beers!
Ah, Mr Smith!
So great to see you, after the racial insensitivity tribunal.
With hindsight, I can see that word is best left to rappers.
Well, let's just let bygones be bygones.
Yes, bro.
# ..Some day-ay-ay-ay
We walk hand in hand...
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Abbey Grove swimming gala.
Now, to light the Olympic torch.
Let the Games begin.
Oh, no.
Don't panic! Everything's fine!
Everything's fine. Everything's cool. Don't panic!
Everything's fine. Do not worry.
Oh, God. It's really hot. Help! Help!
We shall, we shall not be moved.
Argh! Oh, my God!
Stuck, is it?
Stand back.
Sometimes there's no substitute for a little bit of manpower.
Any minute now, it'll just drop. It's a stubborn one.
Oh, shit!
Erm, I haven't actually put my money in it.
Oh... that'll be why nothing's coming out, then.
FYI, your, er, little minge binge.
Not my fault. I've checked with loads of my ex-girlfriends
and they're all still straight.
"Checked"? What do you mean, checked?
I asked them if they were gay. Not straight out. I'm subtle, like.
What did you ask them?
Timbaland - music producer or formal evening footwear?
You're intimidated.
No, I'm not.
I just think that, you know... you might be, er, missing out.
I'm not missing out.
No, because sex with Alex
is a sensual awakening.
Wave upon wave of mind-blowing orgasms.
She's a volcano of pleasure.
Very clever.
Very clever indeed.
Get your own back by giving me an erection
at a children's swimming gala. Oh, God.
I don't care if you're dying of starvation,
your bingo wings are not going to mess up this entry.
Miss, I feel... You do not feel, you dive.
Are you all right?
Sir, we need to call security. I've seen a suspicious package.
Eugh. Pickwell's camel toe? Toe? That's a whole hoof.
Zero?
Are you out of your tiny little minds?
There was no synchronisation.
Yes! Look, it's easy. Just keep it simple. Keep it synchronised.
I can't! I can't take my top off. Everyone will laugh.
Ignore them, Joe. Look, no-one is happy about their bodies.
You really think that this will ever win Heat's torso of the week?
No, but they might bring back Circle of Shame for those nipples.
Stephen, could you just go and sort out the music?
This dive is happening!
Look, mate, beauty is more than skin-deep.
You are like...
a Ginsters Scotch Egg Bar. Yeah.
On the outside, you're not traditionally beautiful,
but inside... inside, you're pretty damn special.
Argh! My ankle! This witch tripped me!
I said, no running.
No way. Right, that's it. Shit's getting real.
What about your chlorine allergy?
You know what, Joe? Some day...
we've all got to face up to our fears.
You with me? Oi, chicken dipper!
That's the spirit. Lock and load.
What happened to not being ashamed of your body?
Joe, there are some shortcomings that no man will ever get over.
Put it down.
Dive, dive, dive, dive!
Are you sure about this, Alfie? Yeah. How bad can it be, right?
Bob bump? Bob bump.
Yes! Yes!
Yes, we did it!
Oh! Oh, my chlorine allergy. It's vanished! I feel fine!
Honestly, guys, how bad is it?
Not bad at all.
Oh, my God, you look minging... but no worse than normal.
You look fine, sir. Really.
You'd better get into a hot shower and some dry clothes, sir.
I'll help you get your trunks off.
Whoa! I think I can cope, thank you, Chantelle.
Is somebody there?
Where are my clothes? Nice face, Downton.
Seriously, Frank, I am not in the mood for this.
Thunderbirds are GO! What?
Give me my towel back!
Ow!
This isn't funny!
Seriously... Seriously, guys. Come on, sir!
This is not funny! Alfie?
Hello? Rosie?
We're in the lobby, aren't we?
Yeah. Shit!
This is my recurring nightmare.
Is he OK? Oh, is this...?
Yes! This must be the famous Alex.
How wonderful to finally meet you.
No?
It's like that, is it? You are making a spectacle of yourself.
Go and put some clothes on!
Oh, sorry. You think I'm embarrassed about my body? Pu-lease!
Darling, you just can't handle being reminded of what you could have had.
Argh!
Come on, then, take a photo. It'll last longer.
That's a figure of speech, I didn't mean it!
Stop it, Mitchell! Sir?
I promise, it's me. Please?!
I've got to buy those guys 30 beers.
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