All language subtitles for White Gold - 02x02 - Take One for the Team_track8_[eng]

[ship horn blares]

- Evening, Vincent.
- Ronnie.

- Beautiful spot.
- I guess, if you like big metal boxes.

Oh, I do, all these different colored
boxes carrying goods across the world.

You know, when I look at those
containers, you know what I see?

- Good places to store bodies.
- That's very funny.

Although, they really are.
No, I see bunts, young Vincent.

They're like lucky dips bags,
you never know what's inside

until you break into one
and then nick it.

Well, I'm sure you didn't drag me
all the way out here

to romanticize some
rusty fucking crates, Ronnie.

How's business?

Figures are down again this month,
but I've got it under control.

Our rival's had an opening month bump,
nothing more. Won't happen again.

Well, I hope not, Vincent. Otherwise,
I might be forced to give you a tour

of the inside of one
of these rusty fucking crates.

[laughs]

Okay, now the pep talk's out the way,
I need a favor.

- What is it?
- It's my boy, Ronnie Jr.

Let's just say he's been having
a few issues in the employment market.

- I need you to take him on at Cachet.
- It's not exactly convenient timing.

No, it is for me.

Missus been bending my ear
right about getting him a job,

and obviously, I can't have him working
alongside me in the family business.

- What, to protect him?
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

It's, um, how can I put this?
It's more, he's...

He's... he's just fucking strange.
But what can you do, hey?

Unconditional love
can be a terrible burden.

- Great. Do I get a choice?
- Of course.

You can say yes, or you can spend the
next eight weeks in that yellow container

up there being shipped
to South America.

[whistles]

Junior, come and meet Vincent.

- He's your new mentor.
- Good to meet you, Junior.

It's RJ to everyone else.

Have you done any sales before, RJ?

There is nothing you can teach me
that I do not already know.

Oh, good.

Right, so you two are gonna
get on like a house on fire.

I'm already starting to feel
like a right gooseberry.

So see you lovebirds later.

More charred meat, girls.

I daren't go for the sausages,
if I were you.

Unfortunately,
this isn't a dream sequence.

No, there's no waking up
from the living nightmare

that is the little prick's
annual staff barbecue.

- [tapping]
- Silencio, silencio, por favor.

Gracias, muchas gracias.
Exciting times here at Millman Young.

Hopefully, this little shindig goes
some way to saying thank you, um,

not just to my colleagues
but to the wonderful wives

and partners who help support
and nourish my team.

Um, so thank you, ladies.
Thank you, ladies.

Now, uh, just gonna talk shop
for one moment longer.

Um, I am delighted to announce
that we're gonna promote Sam Swan

to a position in the sales advertising
team. Congratulations, Sam.

- You deserve it, sweetheart.
- Hear, hear!

Congratulations, my darling.

Now, can, uh, everyone get back
to eating barbecue

and bitching about me behind my back?

Vincent, it's great to have you here.

Actually, what Andrew said
when he first planned this barbecue

was, "I have to invite Vincent.
I don't want to, but I have to."

[laughter]

Listen, I know we've had our differences,
but I'm really glad you came.

Wouldn't miss it for the world...
you patronizing little prick.

Vincent, stop.

- Right.
- [tapping on glass]

Are we all ready
for the fifth annual Millman Young

- world cup of Ping-Pong?
- [cheering]

Oh, this day just
gets fucking better and better.

All right, gang, time to get serious.

This year we're playing mixed doubles,
not spouses together,

because I will not be held responsible
for any divorce proceedings.

So the pairings are as follows:

Sally and Chris, Linda and Bob,
Bess and Jim,

Sam and myself, Vincent and Pat,
June and Martin,

Anne and Alan, Angela and Norman.

- Who's Pat?
- [man] I am.

You're gonna have to do most
of the work, I'm afraid.

Well, the upside of doing
a stint in Borstal, Patrick,

is it's like a crash course
in table tennis. Come on.

[rock music plays]

♪ Here I am ♪

♪ Rock you like a hurricane ♪

Are you ready, baby?

♪ Here I am ♪

♪ Rock you like a hurricane ♪

[Vincent] My Borstal bat skills
just about made up for my partner

being so close to death's door that
he could play knock down ginger on it.

Eventually, I dragged the dead
weight of Pat all the way to the final,

which pitted me against my wife

and the world's most
competitive garden gnome.

The score was 20-17,
which gave them three match points.

Well, if the table's too high, I don't
mind you using a step ladder to serve.

I won't be needing that, thank you.

Got it, Sam. Oh! Okay.

- Okay.
- Sorry.

20-18.

20-19.

See, when you get a chance,
you gotta take it, Sam.

- Vincent's fucking serving now.
- Sorry.

- You had the chance, Sam.
- I'm sorry.

Well, stop apologizing
and take responsibility for it.

Okay, I will, I promise.
I'll do better next time, yeah?

If there is a next time.

- Oh!
- Yes, that's it.

- Give me some skin.
- For fuck's sake! Sorry, Pat, mate.

You useless bastard.

I'm sorry if I got
a little bit spiky just then.

No, you didn't, honestly.
It's fine, forget about it.

I have to admit,
you were pretty sensational today.

Every once in a while, Samantha,
you gotta take one for the team.

Hmm.

Well, I was thinking it's only fair

that, if you get to take one for the team,
then so should I.

Come on, Vincent Swan, I need you to
be the bigger man one last time today.

What's wrong, baby?

I'm sorry, babe,
I've just... got a lot on my mind.

- Walshy.
- Sort of.

If that sneaky bitch he's got selling
for him keeps stealing our business,

I'm not gonna hit my target this month.

Well, at least money isn't as much of
a worry now we've got the two salaries,

and I'm getting a raise.

And so, it seems, is Mr. Winky.

He certainly is.

And don't worry, I'll have this situation
under control soon.

I've managed to set a little trap,

and Walshy's golden girl
is walking straight into it.

- What kind of a trap?
- The sweetest kind: a honey trap.

[Vincent] Guess which sap was the honey?

As part of his quest
to become more ruthless in sales,

Lavender jumped at the opportunity.

It also didn't hurt that the bee
in this particular honey trap

was hotter than Satan's asshole
after a vindaloo.

Hiya. It's Jo, isn't it? You ran
the Peak Performance seminar I went to.

Uh, sorry, Martin Lavender,
Cachet Windows.

Ah, Mr. Be More Assertive.
How are you doing, Martin?

I just wanted to say you really

completely transformed
my whole approach to sales.

In fact, I honestly wouldn't be selling
at all anymore if it wasn't for you.

- Shot myself in the foot then.
- [laughs]

I know you're working,
I just want to say thanks.

- Where you heading?
- A hot lead, number eight.

The Talbots,
sneaky two-timing bastards.

Ah, double bookers.
How do you wanna handle this?

- All yours.
- Really?

- Absolutely.
- Oh, thank you.

Although now I feel like
I've failed you as a sales coach.

Also, I was hoping my tiny act of
generosity might get my foot in the door

- for a bigger opportunity.
- Okay.

Now you've got me interested, Martin.
What's the bigger prize?

- Dinner tonight?
- [laughs]

Yeah, all right.

I'm married to a sexist dinosaur.

What?

The fact you don't see
how incredibly wrong this is

is even more disturbing than
dreaming it up in the first place.

What I do know is that if you don't
hurry up and get back on board,

Mr. Dipio Dickus here
will soon become extinct.

It's not funny, Vincent.

The poor girl.
Not to mention Martin.

Yeah, I'm sure that furious hot sex
with a beautiful woman is tough.

And there it is, the cherry on top
of this passion-killing cake.

- She's beautiful, is she?
- That's not what I meant.

Good night, Vincent.

[Vincent] And just as my mojo was
rising again, Sam had me on a sex ban.

Something that I was wishing Ronnie's
wife had done to him 24 years ago.

- Boysies, this is Ronnie Jr.
- I'll stop you there, it's RJ. Continue.

He'll be working with us from today.

RJ, Fitzpatrick and Lavender
will train you up,

- take you out and show you the ropes.
- As I said, I won't need training.

Have fun.

Lavender here went to university,

thought he knew it all
when he first turned up.

Turns out the only thing he learned
that transferred to sales

was how to identify various
sexually transmitted diseases.

[laughs]
It's a steep learning curve, mate.

Well, I imagine
it's mainly strategy and psychology,

in which case, it's highly likely
I'll know it all already.

- Oh, lovely, do you do psychology?
- No.

- History?
- No. Look, I don't wanna brag.

Um, I'm sure it
won't be taken as bragging.

Fine.

I'm in the top five players worldwide
at Stratego.

What the fuck is Stratego?

It's an advanced strategy
turn-based board game.

Oh. Right, well, unfortunately,

most of our customers
are above the age of eight,

so I doubt they'll be impressed by that.

And even though this
is a much lowlier arena

than the one in which
I would normally compete,

it's highly likely I'll have something
to teach each of you.

All right. Um, well, let's start
you off with something simple.

- How about some teas?
- Go on then, white, two sugars.

Oh, um... yeah, yeah, okay.

[Vincent] We quickly found out
why Ronnie wasn't overly keen

to integrate Junior
into the family business.

[Brian] So we have established
five different ways

in which your life could
be immeasurably improved

by having new windows, yeah?

Yeah, honestly,
we can't do it for the money, Brian.

Look, I've never done this before,
and it goes completely against protocol,

but I could try and get you
what is called our VIP rate.

- Would it be okay if I use your phone?
- Yeah, of course.

Yeah? Okay. Well, I'll, uh,
leave you with my colleague, RJ.

Yeah, well, boss, you know,

I wouldn't be asking if I hadn't
already closed six deals today.

Yeah, I'm on a streak in the Greenwoods.

They're good people.

You know, I've purchased
all sorts of crap in my life.

None of it has made me happy.

You know what Sir John Betjeman's
great regret was before he died?

Not enough sex.

And that's something you don't even
have to pay for... all the time.

Really? Well, we've never gone that low.

Uh-huh.

Right, we're not comfortable
with the direction this has gone in.

- What?
- Your colleague is very, very strange.

[Vincent] And it wasn't just on the road
that RJ was proving a liability.

Excuse me, could I ask a question
about conservatories?

Anyone else I'd be able to trouble?

RJ, what the fuck? You're supposed
to be looking after the showroom.

This is a critical phase of battle,
I cannot operate with distractions.

- And who's she?
- She's got a name.

Suzy. And I'm here
'cause RJ offered me job.

She'll be my assistant.
She's great with figures.

- Don't you work in the Flying Horse?
- I did.

You still do. Go on, out.

Out.

Ridiculous.

How am I supposed to close a deal

whilst I'm nursemaiding
that charmless freak?

I would say he is insane.

Well, I'm sorry, we can't get rid of him.

He's Ronnie's son
which makes him like royalty.

What, like one of those
weird, inbred princes

that grow up
to be really fucking dangerous?

- You're thinking of fairy tales?
- I'm thinking of Prince Edward.

Lavender, what have you dug up
on the opposition so far?

As far as I can see,
she just seems to work very hard

and have a bloodhound's nose
for a sale.

That's it? Well, we could have
got that from her fucking CV, mate.

I don't wanna push too hard too soon.

Well, you're not taking a fucking shit.
You're spying on a rival.

See, boss, I told you,
you should have sent me in as bait.

Yeah, the only problem
being you don't land a prize catch

like Jo with a maggot like him.

Just come up with something pronto
to stop her stealing

our fucking business
before Prince Bellend's dad

decides to send me to Venezuela.

- You mean Coventry?
- I wish I did.

Speak of the devil.

My car keys?
Thanks, where were they?

I just took it for a spin. Oh, you might
wanna get that gear knob looked at.

It comes right off in your hand
when you try and shift across to third.

- It's an automatic.
- Oh, yeah, that makes sense.

Can I get a bev?

You left something in the toilet.

It's not mine.

Shit! Huh!

- Would you look at that!
- What is it?

It's little Donna.
Brendan's daughter, Donna.

Didn't you wanna take some
seedy photos of her for her dad?

I think what you meant to ask was

didn't I launch that little cracker's
modeling career? And yes, I did.

Oh, it's nice seeing her all grown up,
isn't it?

Not really, it's massively creepy. She's
still not old enough to buy alcohol.

What's creepier, Page 3

or you trying to censor innocent pictures
of the human body?

It's definitely the one
where school girls are paid

to bare their breasts
for dirty old men.

Carol, do you have any problem
whatsoever with Page 3?

Well, it is always in the newspaper,
so I suppose they have to report it.

Thank you. A bit of common sense.

- And she's a woman.
- But it is sexist.

Yeah. Thank you, Carol.

You should invite this local Lolita
down to the shop.

Might even attract some customers
to this morgue you call a showroom.

All right, RJ, you stick to Cluedo, yeah?
Let the big boys sell the windows.

That's not a terrible idea.
I mean, Donna's a national sweetheart,

albeit a topless one.

Imagine the publicity
if we got her down for a meet-and-greet.

I like it, Lavatory.
You're starting to think like me.

Thanks for seeing me.
Let me start by saying

how thrilled we are to have played
a small but vital role in Donna's success.

Now, I know we've had our differences
in the past,

and, uh, I'd just like to say
that, first and foremost,

I've always considered you a mate.

I'm sorry to hear that, Brian,
and, uh, seeing as it's you and Vincent,

I'm prepared to offer you
my one time mate's rate of, uh,

- £1,000 for the afternoon.
- Oh. Seems a bit steep, mate.

Oh, usually we charge £500,

but like I said, I'm doing you a special
mate's rate, in light of our past.

You're fucking joking.

You can take it or leave it,
you rat-faced wee prick.

Well, I guess I'll start
with the positive.

Didn't find any soft porn
in the toilet today.

However, I did find semen on the sink.

Now, I'm not pointing the finger,

but just in case anyone new here is
under any doubt, that's not fucking on.

- I wondered where that went. Cheers.
- Mystery solved.

While I remember,
I've got some expenses need paying.

- Bloody hell, what's all this?
- Corporate entertainment.

- Entertainment for who?
- Myself.

It's very boring working here all day,

so in the evenings,
I have to entertain myself.

Right, RJ, I want you down the printers.

We need a thousand copies
of this made pronto.

What is it?

Very nice. Tasteful yet risqué.

Are you sure making the flyer
transparent was the smartest idea?

It's not transparent, numb-nuts.

It's the film the printers need
to run the flyers off.

Look, Sam has put her neck on the line
at work getting this done for us,

so keep your greasy paws off it.

She's got quite the enigmatic smile.

Maybe she spotted your enigmatic stiffy.

- Oh, my God, that is disgusting!
- Oh, grow up, all of you!

None of us would be here
if our father's penises

didn't engorge with blood
when we needed them to.

What are you still doing here?
Get to the fucking printers!

[Vincent] But before RJ
could complete our delivery,

he needed to take care
of his own package first.

♪ That's the way ♪

- ♪ I like it ♪
- [sighs]

♪ That's the way ♪

♪ I like it ♪

♪ That's the way ♪

♪ I like it ♪

♪ That's the way ♪

♪ I like it ♪

Do you think you can save it?

I should be able
to reconstruct the lettering.

- What did it say?
- "Catch It Windows."

What about the phone number?

I think there's a one.
There's another one.

Let's go with one, one, one, one.

[Vincent] While RJ
was covering up his spunky tracks,

Lavender was trying to get Jo
to unwrap a few secrets of her own.

Is something wrong?

No, no, I just thought maybe
we could talk for a change.

I mean, we barely know anything
about each other.

All right, Michael Parkinson,
what do you need to know?

Besides I like having sex and I like you.

How about we play a game?

I'm only interested
if it's hide the salami.

I'm serious. It's an intimacy challenge.

We tell each other one thing secret
about each other,

it can be anything at all, but it has to
be something we've never told anyone.

Okay, sounds interesting.
Who's going first?

I'll kick off.

I once had an affair
with a married woman.

My, Lavender, you dark horse.
Was it recent?

I'm not saying anything else about it.
Your turn.

Okay, my first orgasm was at
a sleepover at a best friend's house.

- It was also on her fingers.
- Jesus Christ, that's amazing.

Whoa, no, no, not fair. I just
delivered a lesbian fingering fantasy.

I want something juicer from you.
You went to a single-sex school, right?

- So?
- So boys are curious at that age.

Any sexual experimentation?
You know, you scratch my dick...

Oh, sorry, the only penis that's been
touched by these fair hands is my own.

Okay, whose wife was it?

- I'm seriously not going there.
- Oh, I sniff scandal.

Right, I'm gonna sing out some names
just to see how you react.

- Fitzpatrick.
- Oh, come on.

- Walshy.
- This is daft. No, I'm not doing this.

- Vincent.
- All right, I once wanked off

a sixth-former in the art studio
at school.

[laughs] I knew it. So weird.

Come here, you sexy wanker.

- Is that the flyers?
- Um, yeah.

- RJ, what are these?
- The flyers for Saturday's event.

That says "Catch It."

- Yeah.
- We're called Cachet.

Cachet.

RJ, we can't use these.

You haven't even put the address
of the showroom on there.

And it's got the wrong
fucking telephone number.

One, one, one, one, one, one,
one, one, one. How did this happen?

Look, nobody warned me not
to spill ejaculate on the film.

'Cause nobody needs to be told that.
Fucking hell.

Look, don't panic, okay?

This is the sort of problem-solving
exercise I encounter

in Stratego all the time.

What, you get jizz
all over the playing pieces?

Tell me, RJ, tell me how exactly
Stratego is gonna help us get back

the £500 you literally spunked away
at the printers.

Yeah, actually, do you boys mind
taking the rap for this?

It's not the sort of thing my dad would
take any pleasure in hearing about.

[Vincent] In return for keeping
schtum about his 500 quid fuck-up,

RJ agreed to go
on a sales training course,

the Anglian Windows Training Course
to be more precise.

We made him promise to tell his dad
that he was headhunted,

so that was RJ out of our hair.

But we still had the disastrous
Page 3 promotion to deal with.

Cancel the whole thing.
It's a fucking waste of time!

It's not that simple. We're canceling
within 48 hours. She'd expect paying.

- How much are we in for?
- Another grand.

Are you pricks trying
to get me killed by Ronnie?

Look, it'll be fine, okay?
I'll have a word with Donna,

tell her how things work
in the real world.

I mean, this is Brendan's daughter
we're talking about here,

not Richard fucking Branson.

So, Donna, I can understand
that feelings will be hurt,

but this is a business.

And I'm afraid the situation
is that you're not gonna get paid.

It's a contract like any other, Brian.

On top of that,
we have a first-rate legal team

of a major national newspaper
behind us,

which, I would imagine, would take you
into territory you can't afford.

So, yeah, I'll be taking
that payment in full, please.

Okay, sure.

- Morning, Bri.
- Ah!

Jesus!

RJ. What are you doing here?

I thought you were sacked.
I mean, I thought you were training.

Well, it took the course leader less
than six minutes

to ascertain I was vastly overqualified.

I agreed, and he gave me the week off.

That's a good call from him, to be fair.

I felt partially responsible
for the printer mix-up the other day,

so I dived into Dad's Rolodex,
made a few calls.

And, well, what would you say
if I could get a world champion

in their field down to the showroom this
afternoon for a personal appearance?

[sighs] I'd say, if it's a world champion
in Stratego, you can fuck off now.

You will have noticed
I'm still here, Brian.

And joining me this afternoon will be
none other than Steve fucking Davis.

[announcer] He's breathing heavily
as he comes down to this final frame.

- [cheering]
- That's it.

The World Snooker Champion.

[Vincent] For once, RJ had managed to
pull of something other than himself.

Steve Davis was managed
by an old drinking pal of Ronnie Sr.'s,

a certain Mr. Barry Hearn.

When RJ called, Barry just happened
to be sitting down with Steve.

It turned out Steve
was free that afternoon,

and RJ had just fluked
the one-four-seven of lucky breaks.

- Ladies and gentlemen, Steve Davis.
- [indistinct chatter]

Can I have your autograph,
please, Steve?

Yep.

There you are.

So, what's it like playing
at the Crucible?

Yeah, it's a good place to play snooker.

What's going through your head
on a high-pressure shot?

Yeah, you know, I'm, um, I'm just
trying my best to not miss. Hmm.

- You know any good trick shots?
- Mate, I'm the king of trick shots.

- But there's no table, so...
- Oh, right.

To be honest, I was surprised 'cause
I normally do bookings at snooker clubs.

There's... not really anything
I can do here.

- Thanks anyway, Steve.
- Yeah.

[indistinct chatter]

Where is everyone?

I know we didn't have time to advertise,

but Steve Davis is quite impressive, right?

Yeah, until you actually meet
the boring fucker.

- Was it two sugars, Martin?
- Oh, yeah, thanks, Steve.

Okay. There we go.

Listen, um, I was thinking,
seeing as it's quietened right down,

would it be okay
if I shot off a bit early?

No, it fucking wouldn't, Steve.

Mm. Is there sugar in that?

Oh, Brian, I'm sorry,
I'll get you another one.

Oh, the love of my life.

Mwah. Couldn't resist the allure
of a snooker superstar?

Look, I warn you,
he takes a bit of warming up.

I think that Page 3 girl
you had booked is appearing

down at Walshy's new place.
He's absolutely rammed.

Oh, that's where everyone is.

Unlucky boys, looks like you've
been beaten by the better woman.

A Page 3 promotion?
Who's the sexist dinosaur now then?

- That's still you.
- Let's get over there.

Oh, where's everyone going?

Oh, fucking rival firm's nicked
our Page 3 promotion idea.

Oh, can I come?

No, sorry,
someone needs to stick around here,

- look after the showroom, Steve.
- Right.

Ah, you'll have to join the sizable queue

if you're looking to sign up for one
of our Page 3 stunner deals, Vincent.

This was our fucking idea.
This event is an infringement

- on our intellectual copyright.
- What's wrong, boys?

You think men have the monopoly
on using sex to sell?

[Walsh] Although to give you credit,
you did stumble on the idea

of putting boobs in a showroom first
by hiring this pair of tits. [laughs]

This is your fucking fault, Lavender.
You were supposed to be spying on her,

not tipping her off
to our every fucking move.

Honestly, I didn't tell her anything.

Other than your avant-garde
sixth-form studies.

This is low.
I thought we had an agreement.

I understood you thought
you'd flash your green eyes at me,

and I'd start blabbing company secrets
for you to carry back to your boss.

- How could you think that?
- 'Cause that's exactly what Vincent,

or should I call him your pimp,
literally just blurted out.

Yeah, fair enough.
Christ, how long have you known?

- From the beginning, obviously.
- God, I feel so used.

And for the record,
Martin didn't tell us anything.

It was Brendan that offered us
Donna's services as a freebie.

Apparently, she was already being paid
for by you lot,

so cheers for that, Cachet.

Yeah, now that you mention it, seeing
as Donna's got herself another booking,

we don't have to honor
our original payment agreement.

What was that now?

Brian was threatening
not to pay us again, Dad.

"Threaten" is a loaded term.
More exploring the idea, Brendan.

Unless you fancy exploring
the back of my van

with duct tape round your wrists
and mouth,

I suggest you pay my daughter
what was promised.

Yeah, yeah, no, yeah, well,
we... we had a contract.

Look, I don't know
if any of you are snooker fans,

but if you wanna meet the three times
world champion, Steve Davis,

he's currently over
at the Cachet Windows showroom

- on South End Road.
- Is he doing trick shots?

No, no fucking trick shots,
but he can give you playing tips,

or a very funny story about
Terry Griffiths and some lost keys.

Oh, and he makes a mean cup of tea.
Anyone?

Oh, there's a thousand
and one questions

- I'd like to ask Steve fucking Davis.
- Here we go.

- Ronnie.
- Chief among them being

why his tool of a manager,
Barry Hearn,

seems to be under the impression
I'm giving him

and that boring ginger pillock
a free fucking conservatory each.

Well, yeah, I can explain.

[upbeat music plays]

♪ You don't have to take this crap ♪

♪ You don't have to sit back
and relax ♪

♪ You can actually try changing it ♪

♪ I know we've always been
taught to rely ♪

♪ Upon those in authority ♪

♪ But you've never know until you try ♪

♪ How things just might be ♪

♪ If we came together so strongly ♪