Original subtitles

Ladies and gentlemen, what we are building here

will not just be another luxury apartment block.

No, no, no. Number one, the Forum,

will stand as an iconic and urban landmark for centuries,

- if not millennia to come. - Mm-hm.

Clad entirely in marble,

and situated in the vibrant Aventine district,

our spacious suites let you experience life

in a multicultural, mixed-income community,

within the safety of a gated complex with 24-hour security.

And despite some resistance

from small-minded neighbourhood groups,

our friends in the Senate have thankfully confirmed

that this development

will be a huge boost to the local area

and drastically improve the quality of life for local residents.

Waargh!

What was that?

Probably just some plebs mucking about.

You know what they're like.

Fucking hell.

? Yeah! When in Rome

? Do as the Romans do

? Far from home

? All I got is you

It's just so brutal, isn't it?

To lose your best friend like that.

- Yeah, thanks. It really is. - I actually meant me.

He was my best friend too.

At least we've got each other, eh?

Yeah. At least there's that.

- Do you want a cuddle? - No, thank you.

How are you holding up, fella?

Oh, you know, comfort eating.

Classic. I did the same when me dog died.

I really stuffed my face, mostly with dog food,

cos I had so much left over.

Oh, aye? Any good?

No, it was revolting, but it did make my pubes thick and shiny.

Ooh! I might give it a try.

Grumio, what the hell is all this?

You told me to sort out a spread, so you're welcome.

I said nibbles, not whole rotisserie chickens.

You can nibble anything, mate.

And I thought I'd give Stylax a proper send-off.

- It's what he would have wanted. - Hardly! This is very much what you wanted.

Any overlap is pure coincidence.

Salve, boys, loving the venison.

The... OK, terrific.

All right, landlord, ta for coming.

Oh, I wouldn't have missed it. I wanted to pay my respects.

Stylax has gone, but he lives on in our hearts.

- Thank you. That's very kind. - And in the rental agreement.

So don't expect a discount just because your flatmate is,

well, even flatter.

- Of course not. Why would I? - So sorry for your loss.

Flavia. Oh, thanks for coming.

Not at all. I love funerals.

It's where I met three of my husbands.

And black is slimming, of course.

Right, well, I'm glad you're coping.

I'm not. I'm deeply moved.

I mean, poor Shredder, that beautiful, stupid, gorgeous,

gormless face crushed beyond recognition.

And how awful for you, Copier,

to lose your friend and your job in one fell swoop.

My job? What?

Well, as a pair you were tolerable.

Shredder's smooth features softened your jagged edges.

Without him by your side, I'm afraid it's all too much.

No. No, no, no, no, you can't do this.

What... What will I do for money?

Don't ask me, Copier.

Ask the vandals who dropped a ten-ton slab

on that angelic face.

Forgive me for ear-wigging,

but you met three husbands at funerals?

I did, yes. Sorry, I don't believe we've met.

Oh.

Stylax Eurisces...

Terrible, terrible. What a tragic accident that was.

Well, it was a mistake rather than an accident

and a very costly one.

So I strongly feel that I am owed

some sort of compensation.

I see. So what was your relationship to the deceased?

He was my best friend and flatmate.

You do realise that compensation

would only ever go to his next of kin?

And my father as well.

- Father? - Yes.

That's what I said.

I'm Marcus Eurisces -- Stylax's son.

Now isn't that weird, that you didn't mention father first?

Yes. Sorry, we were such close friends that I sometimes forget.

Mm-hm. Well... due to the rather dramatic manner of his death,

the coroner struggled to learn anything

- from your father's body. - I can fill you in.

But he does know that Stylax was between 25 and 28,

- from his teeth. - He... Right, yes, 28.

Hm, what does that make you, then?

Well, I... 14?

I'm 14. I have a hormone condition

and the grief's put years on me.

Horse shit! You're not 14, you liar.

- You look more like 40. - All right. That's a bit...

You're just some chancer trying to cash in.

- Lubo? - OK, fine.

I'm not his son, all right?

But me and Stylax had big plans, OK?

He talked about being a millionaire.

- I'd leave now if I were you. - My best friend,

an innocent man, has died, OK?

- And someone has to pay. - Fine. I'll make sure

the builder who dropped the slab gets fired.

- No, I meant pay money to me. - Show him out, Lubo.

OK. It's OK, Lubo, I'm leaving.

This is the living room.

A little balconette through there.

And that is the Grumio.

He's pretty much a fixture there these days.

And this is the bedroom which, as you know,

has just become vacant.

Great. I'll just give the mattress a quick firmness test.

Thank you so much for tidying up for these viewings, Grumio.

I can't be doing housework.

I'm knee-deep in mourning for Stylax here.

Right. And by "mourning", you mean generally slobbing about?

And really committing to it. I'm officially going to seed.

That one's for you, big man.

Some of us aren't ready to replace you yet.

I'm not replacing him. I'm replacing his rent money.

Especially not with a bearded twat who Stylax hated.

What? That's not true, is it, buddy?

What? No, that's... just the grief talking... buddy.

Yeah. I want to check out that balcony.

Look, I know he's not ideal, OK?

But it's not like we have a choice.

Hi, I'm Jason.

Oh, great. Marcus. Do come in.

Cheers then, Aurelius. We'll be in touch.

Any idea when that will be?

Because my mum has already packed my things. Marcus?

Can I offer you some water, Jason?

- Oh, yeah, cheers. - Grumio, this is Jason.

He's er... not Aurelius, crucially.

Jason, this is Grumio, my slave.

- All right? Nice meat. - Thank you, it's venison.

So, shall I give you the tour, then?

Er... No, I'm all right.

What? You don't want to see the room?

- Er... What do you mean? - The room... for rent?

Are you not here about renting the room?

No. I'm here about my job.

Ooh. I don't think we can help you with that, mate.

You can, actually. Go back to Crassus Construction

and ask them to give me my job back.

I'm sorry? Are you the guy who dropped that slab?

- Yeah, that's me, but... - By Jove!

- It wasn't my fault. - I'm taking that back.

I'd done, like, three shifts...

I don't give a shit. You killed our best friend.

As a slave, you know what it's like to be overworked?

- Yeah, not really, as it goes. - It was my boss's fault really.

It's Crassus who's, "Oh, fuck the harnesses.

Fuck the helmets and that."

He's only not been arrested

because he's giving bungs to senators.

It's him you wanna stick it on.

Yeah, go and stick it on him.

We're not taking advice from some murdering prat,

- thank you, Grumio. - Please, mate.

Look, help a brother out. I'm stressed,

my girlfriend's gone ape shit, I'm getting a cold sore.

It's better than being squashed by a slab of marble.

Well, you say that, but that's quick.

- Cold sores really hang about. - Just get out!

All right. No need to get aggy.

It was nice meeting you both, anyway.

I liked him best of the two.

Oh!

All right?

Hey, it's Grumio, isn't it?

It's Jason. Squashed your mate.

Oh, yeah. Good to see you again.

- Yeah. What are you up to? - I'm trying to go to seed.

But it's harder than you'd think.

These vinos are well pricey. You?

I'm gonna surprise my girlfriend with dinner,

a bottle of something nice,

to prove I'm not a complete waster.

Right. Cos I were thinking, if me and you went halves,

we could buy something punchy and get shitted in the park.

Yeah, all right. Let's do that.

Oh.

Mr Crassus. Hello, it's me again.

Oh, it's the hormonal 14-year-old.

Shouldn't you be in school?

You need to go to school, mate, to learn about corporate corruption.

Step on it, chaps, lose the pleb.

Hup!

Turn right. And turn.

What are you playing at, you loony?

You breach health and safety guidelines.

- Get out of my sedan, boy, now. - And...

- you've been bunging senators. - Grow up. You don't know dick!

Oh. Try me. I've got a whistle-blower, buddy.

If you don't compensate me for my friend's death,

he'll blow that whistle so loud you will shit your purple pants.

You've got a nerve, boy, haven't you?

That is rich, coming from a dirty, low-life criminal.

- Would you like to work for me? - Eh? Sorry, what?

I don't give people handouts, Marcus,

but I might give them a hand up,

if they've got balls and if, like you,

they're stubborn little weasels

who'll sell their mother's kidneys to get ahead.

- Er... Thank you. - If you want my money, you have to earn it.

Starting salary 500 a month. What do you say?

- A job? - Yeah.

Are you yanking me plank?

I thought you were after compensation.

And I got it, sort of.

You know, it just takes the form of a salary.

Oh, that is so typical of you, that is.

The first flash of cash and you drop your kecks.

It's a bloody outrage, isn't it, Jase?

Yeah, be careful, I would. That Crassus is one shady bastard.

I'm sorry, what is Jase doing here?

I ran into him down the offie and we've been hanging out.

- He's a top man. - He killed Stylax!

Are we still on that, are we?

It weren't him. It were that shit bag you're working for.

Yeah, well, that shit bag is gonna be paying our rent

- from now on, Grumio. - I think that's disgusting.

I don't care what you think. You don't contribute anything.

You are just a sponge, sponging up all my hard work.

In fact, you're worse. Sponges actually do the washing-up.

I've told you, I'm going to seed.

Yeah, well, not under my roof, you're not.

Oh, I see.

Jase, please may I crash at your gaff?

It's me girlfriend's gaff, but, yeah, sure.

And I'm in.

Fine. Get out, then.

Go and waste someone else's space.

I will. And I'm taking this with me.

Here, let me get that for you, buddy.

Can't have you late for your first day.

OK, well, cheers, Aurelius.

Oh, I've put a packed lunch in your bag, by the way.

- Sarnie, salad, mini quiche... - You didn't need to do that.

No, I know. It's to say thanks for letting me move in.

OK. Well, thanks for paying half the rent.

Hey, my pleasure. Any idea what time you'll be home?

Nah, not really, no. Hopefully not too late.

Good luck, then, buddy. Love you.

Let's get you cleaned up.

So that's a list of all my buildings in the city.

Right, wow! Well done.

Your job is to go around

and clear out any rubbish you find there.

Rubbish? What sort of rubbish?

Squatters, defaulters, over-stayers.

Ah, OK. You mean human rubbish?

Exactly. Sweep them up, tip them out.

Yes, I just didn't realise my job

would involve evicting people.

Rubbish people. Pond life, mostly.

It's their fault for not having their own house.

I mean, why can't people be more like Myrtle here?

She had the good sense to be born with a house on her back.

I'm not sure turtles choose to do that.

You see, the bottom line is, Marcus,

if my buildings are full of rubbish,

I can't develop them, and if I can't develop them,

we don't make money, and that's why we're here.

See, I've got this new wife

who's got a thing for having dinner parties,

which is almost as costly as my thing for having new wives.

Now, if you're not up to this I need to know now.

No. No, I am, definitely.

I will clear out that rubbish like a big bin.

Right, well, off you jolly well trot, then.

And take a hanky with you, won't you?

- What for? - You'll see.

Oh!

Bastard!

Oi, you!

Argh!

Dickhead.

Well, look who it is.

Grumio.

Hanging around in public toilets now?

Kind of. We're living in public toilets now,

specifically this one.

Wow! You really have gone to seed.

- I told you I were committed. - And crashing at his girlfriend's?

Yeah, it didn't work out, sadly. Me and her split up.

So me and her had to split up and all,

but it's better here anyway.

If I want to wee in the night, I roll over.

Yeah, and we're gonna make some serious coin working here.

- It's perfect. - Working?

Oh, you're rent boys already?

No, we're freelance toilet attendants.

I'll tell you what: have a little wee,

I'll give you the full service.

- I don't actually need a wee. - A little poo, then?

I don't need a poo either.

What are you doing here,

if you don't need a wee and you don't need a little poo?

I'm actually here to... evict you.

- What? - Sorry about that.

This place is owned by Crassus

and has strong redevelopment potential.

Wow. This is a new low.

Says the man living in a toilet.

Except I'm not, am I? Cos you're slinging us out.

You've got half an hour.

If Stylax could see you now.

Now where are we gonna sleep?

Not where we're gonna sleep, Grumio,

but who are we gonna sleep with?

So, are you gonna buy me a drink, then?

Er... Nah, this place is shit.

Why don't we go somewhere

where we can try out my range of scented soaps.

Sounds good. Your place or mine?

Yours, definitely yours.

- Game on. We've got one. - Boom!

- Sorry, who's this now? - Oh, this is Grumio.

- We kind of come as a package. - Oh, no. I ain't into that.

No, no, no. No, not like a three-way.

- He'll just sleep. - I can sleep through anything.

He can. Right, we've been living in this toilet

and he stayed asleep when a man did diarrhoea next to his head.

Yeah, that doesn't make this any better.

It'll only be a one-night thing.

I'll hook up with someone else tomorrow.

- Hi, Aurelius. - Good evening.

- Oh, you've made dinner. - Hours ago.

It's probably ruined by now.

Sorry. Work went on a bit.

That's fine. But you did say you wouldn't be home too late.

Well, I think I said, "Hopefully".

Well, hopefully, the food will still be edible.

So, how was your day, then, buddy?

You know, it was quite stressful actually.

Sorry, is that Stylax's tunic?

Yes. I found it under his bed. It's a really good fit actually.

I wish you'd asked me before you did that.

Well, how can I when you're home so late?

It's just a bit creepy.

Oh, my Jove, fine! I'll take it off, then.

Tell me that is not his loin cloth?

- Fine, I'll take that off too. - Oh, no, leave it on.

Leave it on, take it off.

Honestly, I can't keep up with you, Marcus!

It's just clothes. Stylax has gone, I'm here instead,

and I've made a salmon tray bake.

You need to get your priorities straight, bud.

Yeah, you're right.

Great! I guess I'll eat on my own, then, huh?

- All right, Davus? - Salve, Marcus.

Do you know where Grumio is?

- Yeah, I do. He's in there. - What?

He's in the kennel?

He needed somewhere to stay and my dead dog weren't using it.

Grumio?

What do you want?

To say sorry... for being a selfish prick

and to ask you to come home.

I thought maybe from now on we could go to seed together.

I reckon I've gone a bit too seedy, if anything.

I ate my dinner out of a dog bowl.

What? Why did you do that?

Well, you know, when in Rome...

What about your fancy-pants new job, then, eh?

Yeah, it's a bit more spitty and pissy than I'd hoped.

I'm gonna quit. Just tell Crassus to forget it.

What? Forget it? He killed Stylax. You can't just forget it.

Yeah, I reckon we should do him over.

OK. That's... I didn't even know you were in there.

Yeah, bang-on. We should do him over.

Right. And what does that mean?

It means taking back what he owes us or taking a dump on his desk.

- Like rough justice, basically. - You work with the guy.

Can't you come up with some sneaky inside job?

Which is simple enough to be performed by people

- who live in a kennel? - Ideally.

Hm. OK. Here's an idea.

So...

Crassus has got this new trophy wife who keeps throwing parties.

We kidnap her and cut off her fingers till he pays?

No, what? I haven't finished.

I happen to know she's throwing a party tonight.

- What are they serving? - Completely irrelevant, Grumio.

But Crassus will be distracted,

so when I turn up and tell him I need more eviction notices,

rather than get them for me, he'll send me off to his study.

But I'll go through to the back door

- and let you guys in instead. - And then we torch the place?

No, then we go and steal some of the mega valuable art

- he's got everywhere. - Yes, of course, art.

Do we really need to bring this guy?

Yeah, we do. Me and him come as a package these days.

And bingo!

- What is it? - The mother lode.

Right, you two, grab an end each.

- There's no end to grab. - What do you mean?

- It's one of them bitty ones. - Oh, shit! It's a bloody mosaic?

- So's this one. - They're all stuck down.

The prick's got burglar-proof art.

Maybe we should torch the place.

Stop trying to torch things.

He's got liftable stuff as well. I've seen it.

OK, nice. I'll go and have a nosy.

Keep the noise down, maybe?

- OK. - We can try and jemmy it off.

With what? Our box of chisels?

No, with our fingernails.

I let mine grow long when I went to seed.

- Why would you start there? - Force of habit.

One down.

We'll have to put it back together.

That's all right. You're ace at puzzles.

I've never done one on this scale.

Maybe keep all the colours separate.

Oh, and another one. Ooh-hoo!

What the fuck are you playing at?

Hey, hey, Crassus. How's the dinner party going?

Are you defacing my mosaic?

What? No. Well, I guess we are, but...

We're nicking it because you owe us for killing our best mate, you bastard.

Shut up, you whiny bitch.

I don't owe you diddly shit.

Yeah, OK, plebs die sometimes.

So what? Boo-bloody-hoo!

That's just what happens

when the grown-ups are building civilisations.

Hey, I didn't get where I am by being sentimental.

Case in point -- you're fired.

- Yes, I thought I might be. - Oi, oi, look what I've found.

Hey, no, no, no, no. No, no, put her down.

Oh, that's interesting.

I thought you weren't sentimental.

No, that's different. Now, come on.

Myrtle's 100 years old, for fuck's sake.

Oh, is she, now? Hello, dearie.

Can you hear me all right?

I should warn you, this is a man of proven clumsiness.

That's true. I mean, who knows what might happen?

I could... whoa-oh-oh-oh!

Or maybe, argh!

- Or even... Mmm! - Oh, please, kid, be careful.

How would that work? Would I have to un-shell her?

No, stop! Please put her down. I'll give you anything you want.

Cash. Bucketloads of sweet, sweet cash.

I don't carry liquid assets.

All my money's tied up in property.

That's fine. We also accept property.

Er... On reflection,

we probably should have specified which property we wanted.

Why? This is the best one. We've hit the jackpot, mate.

Plus you said it had strong redevelopment potential.

Yeah, well, I was lying, Grumio.

It doesn't even make a nice toilet.

I mean, it could make a banging wine bar.

Oh, yes, a wine bar. We should have a wine bar!

That's what Stylax would have wanted.

Yeah, well, as an idea it's quite stupid

and utterly unresearched, so, yes, it is.

- Hm. - Well... it could work actually.

A bar there, kitchen through there.

Yes, toilets here.

No, we should probably move those.

There should be nuts, loads of nuts and crisps.

Yeah, and music. We need music.

Name-wise I'm thinking something classy like World of Wine.

Or maybe... The Shit Hole.

Or... I like Grumio's Bar.

OK. Well, some different ideas there, we'll come back to that.

Oh!

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