All language subtitles for Peep Show - S09E02 - Gregorys Beard

♪ I'm not sick but I'm not well ♪

♪ And I'm so hot ♪

♪ Cos I'm in hell. ♪

MARK: There she is, hovering ominously -
Dobby's yellow head.

I'm not about to masturbate
looking at the head.

That's what they want me to do.

Hm, same Noodle Bar she went to yesterday,
and Tuesday.

What's going on at the Noodle Bar?

Three-star reviews.
It's possible she just likes the food.

But hard to completely believe.

Mark, can I put the heating on?
I'm freezing.

No. Wear a jumper, walk about.

You want me to stride about the flat
covered in wool simply to stay alive?

- New York?
- Uh-huh.

Seems Dobby never deleted me
off her Find My Friends app.

This is your perfect way
of going out with someone, isn't it?

Safe in your sexual GCHQ.

I'm trying to build up a picture
of her mental state.

For example, there's this organic bakery
she's been to this afternoon

and twice more this week.

I checked their Twitter
and their carrot cake just ran out.

The other day, she was in
and the same thing happened.

It could be a coincidence.

I'm not saying she's eating a whole
carrot cake every time she goes in there.

But you've got to admit, it's interesting.

Fascinating. Here's a radical idea.

Why don't you stop being a psycho
and give her a ring?

She stopped answering my calls
after I went a bit overboard that time.

The million-text month?

Mm. So unfair.

The 327-text month.

Put it back, Jeremy.

That thing eats electricity.

It's only seven hours
till the central heating comes back on.

It's going in the vault. The new regime.

Heater in the cupboard, tracker tag on
the nice towel, mousetrap in the Frosties.

It's great you do home visits.

I find it makes for a more conducive
life-coaching environment.

Than you at my place, my socks
on the radiator and me sitting on a bongo.

- I've done some more art boxes.
- Megan's so lovely.

I'm definitely falling in love with her.

But what the hell's she talking about?

Focus. I need to give her

a really useful, usable bit
of actual handcrafted wisdom that...

Ooh, is that Watchmen?
I never saw Watchmen.

(DOOR OPENS)

Sorry I'm back so early. I'll, um...
I'll hide out in the bedroom.

No, it's OK.
Jeremy, this is Joe, my boyfriend.

Oh, hey, Joe.

He's eyeing me. There's an atmosphere.

Does he want to hit me?

Jeremy was just saying
I should quit my job

and concentrate,
like, 100% on my boxes.

- Fuck, did I?
- JOE: Really?

Wow, that's a... That's a big one.

- Sure. Big call.
- Quite the wise old guru.

Hey, less of the "old", young man.

I'm still young enough
to give you a... bloody good... duffing up.

We're not gonna fight, but I reckon
I could duff him up, if I needed to.

Take him out, take him apart,
sort him out big-time.

I could... take him, definitely.

If I needed to.

- Thanks for seeing me, Mark. Mate.
- No problem.

Mate? He wants my... liver for a transplant?
Well, he can't have it.

And I'm saving my kidneys for little Ian.

Look, um...

I don't think I've ever said this before,
but I've got a huge...

huge amount of respect for you, yeah?

When UKIP come to round us all up,
you'll be there,

Won't you, at the barricades,
saying, "No!"

Oh, that's...
that's very nice of you to say, Hans.

Yeah. So, er... Well, it's like this.

Er, I want you to be best man
at me wedding.

Best man?

- But what about Jez?
- Molly hates him.

I need a... norm.

And you, well, you're a real meat
and potatoes, straight up and down,

beef Wellington, don't trust the Argies,
dick in the vagina,

Cheddar cheese
and chicken tikka masala man.

Thank you?

There is nothing that could persuade me
to strap myself to the huge,

flaming Super Hans wedding zeppelin
with a gang of drugged-up goons.

Oh, hang on.

Is... Dobby invited?

Er, yeah.

We've got a "no smackheads,
no crackheads" rule, so, the, er...

the old long list is pretty short.

I mean, I'd love to come.

But maybe without being your best man.

(LAUGHS) Yeah, I bet you would,
you cheeky fucker.

No, you're gonna have to earn
your rack of lamb, buddy.

Oh, strap on the cummerbund.

Need to professionalise in here.

Lose the lions, put up my certificate,
get a filing cabinet.

Except, have I got anything to f...?

What is that?

Watt, is that a fucking thermometer?

He's finally bloody lost it.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- What are you doing?
- Just taking a temperature reading.

I thought perhaps
you'd bought your own fan heater.

Oh, for fuck's sake!

I need to get off for Fakenham, to
be there the night before, for... everything.

- He's in his jacket, going to everything.
- While I'm gone,

no turning the central heating
to constant.

- So, off you go, the best man.
- I'm sorry, Jez.

The single best man there is.

You know they haven't even invited me
to the ceremony, just the reception.

I only said yes because of Dobby.
To win her back.

...I need to get back to the good times.

Hours on the sofa,
DVD's and takeaway lamb pasanda.

I'm gonna be the Mark
Dobby always wanted,

who goes to those
spoken-word poetry events

where most of the poems are by women
about the awesome power of the C-U-N-T.

You can't even say it.

There's enough unpleasantness
in the world.

See you tomorrow.

I have so many funny stories
about Hans, where do I start?

The time he tried to cut my legs off
when he was tripping

because he thought! was a demon?
Or the time

he just went straight for me with
a chicken skewer for no apparent reason?

Shit, Dobby's off-grid.

She could be anywhere. So selfish.

Quick neighbourhood watch
over my own personal neighbourhood,

then maybe a disappointing Skype chat
with my son.

There's nothing unethical
about secretly filming my own flat.

If he's got nothing to hide,
he's got nothing to fear.

A vest? That heat-thieving bastard.

I should put a mousetrap in there.
That'd be fun.

- (PHONE RINGS)
- It's time for the show trial.

I'm gonna make him confess
his thermostat crimes.

The heating Stasi
are coming for you, Jeremy.

Oh, hey, Mark.
How's the advance party going?

Oh, good, Jeremy. You?
You're looking quite toasty over there.

- Er, yeah, well, it was quite a warm day.
- Oh, really?

Not according to the Met Office, it's not.

Microclimate.

There is no microclimate
around Apollo House.

Well, that would explain

- why I'm feeling quite chilly now.
- You don't look chilly.

- Brr.
- Bullshit.

It's an hour outside the agreed heating
window and the flat looks incredibly warm.

- How could it look warm, you maniac?
- (DOORBELL RINGS)

Who's that?

Oh, that'll be the ISIS guys
that I've invited round

- to charge their mobiles on your coin.
- Don't joke.

Now, turn the heating off,

put a jumper on and text me
a picture of you wearing it

in front of the thermostat
with today's paper.

- Hey.
- Oh, hi,

Er, wondered if you had time
for a bit of life coaching,

um... off the clock.

Sure.

Hey, I know what the weird atmosphere is.

- (KNOCK ON DOOR)
- Coming, Hans.

Oh, God, Dobby.

- Hi.
- Wow!

Did you just arrive?
Did-Did your phone die?

Er, yeah, it did. How did you know?

Great to see you.

I just wanted to say hi

and head off any potential weirdness
by being as weird as possible right now.

So... rarrgh!

Good option. Blaaaargh!

OK, she's still adorable.
Time to go to DEFCON 1.

Roll out the new Mark manifesto.

Dobby, come in. There was actually
something I wanted to say.

No pressure, but go out with me
or I'll hang myself.

Hey. Er, my toothbrush isn't charging.
I think the voltages are wrong here.

- Can l er...?
- Who the fuck are you?

And what have you got against
240 lovely British volts?

- Hi.
- Hi.

- That's Gregory.
- Fuck this shit, it won't go in.

And what does Gregory do?

He's resting and writing
a great blog about digital rights

and how Brooklyn
is changing for the worse,

and comparing the different coffee shops
he doesn't like

and how their coffee isn't real coffee.

And the carrot cakes?

Er, yeah, sometimes.

- 1 knew it.
- OK. It's, er, charging.

I'm gonna go back to the room.
I think I've got a headache.

But I'm not sure.

You coming, Dobby?

Leave poor old million-text Mark
to his surveillance.

- That's Jeremy.
- What's Jeremy doing in my bedroom?

Mark, have you rigged your flat up
with spycams?

Webcams. If Jeremy has nothing to hide,
he has nothing to fear.

Who's that?

Some guy.
He's taken some guy into my room.

Oh, God.

Is he gonna sell all my stuff, or...

or download something horrible
onto my computer?

Wow.

- OK.
- Jeremy's gone gay. OK.

Is he playing the field,
or is this guy his boyfriend?

Don't know. He's always been
pretty slutty and-and a bit...

but not actually the full...

God, maybe he does this
every time I leave the house.

Oh, God, what are they gonna do next?

I think I know what they're gonna do next.

Well, why can't they do it in his bed?

- We should turn this off.
- Yeah, we definitely should.

That reading light's gonna go.

I wonder if they're gonna be into
penetration or just clip each other off.

Yeah, that gives it a certain suspense.

I really feel
I shouldn't be watching this.

Are they...?

Is my room all right?

Your room's fine, but Jeremy's cock's
getting quite the hammering.

Oi-oi, Marco, ready to go?

Molly's gang are staying here, so Team
Hans are off to burn down the village.

- DOBBY: Ooh.
- What you watching?

Jez get fucked by some guy
on Mark's webcam.

Right.

Fair play.

How long you been filming Jez
having sex, Mark?

It's accidental.

I just wanted to make sure
he hadn't turned up the central heating.

You can relax on that front.

I don't think they're gonna need
any central heating.

I will not watch this.

I'm gonna go and stare into the mirror
and wait out the fucking

- like it's an air raid.
- DOBBY: Whoo!!

- The reading light's gone, Mark.
- Ohh.

- Anything else for the speech?
- Gregory, it's all cool.

Mark is not going to jump me.

He's not an alpha male asshole.

Heh-heh!
Everyone trusts the pathetic worm.

It's good to be a pathetic worm.

Stop being a psycho and go back
to live-tweeting your headache.

Oh, right,
I once fucking totalled a mate's car,

smashed the shit out of it big-time,

and we fell out and he came for me,
but I did him.

Uh-huh. That's...

That-That's a good story. Um...

Any-Anything I could use
that might be a bit more romantic?

Also, and I know this might sound
like a bit of a starter question, but...

what's your name?

Megan doesn't need to know about this.
Right?

Oh, sure. Just watching TV with a guy.
It's like watching TV with Mark.

Except, generally,
I don't have Mark's jizz on my leg.

How would it be if...?

I mean, I've had a really nice time
and, er, I don't want to push it, but...

what if I stayed over?

Er..

Cuddling up all night with Joe,
as if we were boyfriend and... boyfriend?

Am I gonna go the full three dimensions?

Love to,
but I've gotta get on a coach... to Norfolk.

- It's... Best friend's wedding.
- Now?

Yeah, gotta go.

Can't hang around here
cuddling all night long.

Got to get on a night coach
to King's Lynn, my friend.

I understand,
and I'm sorry for being rude.

No, you've explained the economics
of running a rural taxi firm very clearly.

Three hours for a cab.

How are we gonna get back?
We're in the middle of nowhere.

Fuck! Right...

Oh, no, Hans. No, not that.

Wicked! Hitching! Well, one of us
is definitely gonna get murdered.

Probably bloody me. It's usually the girl.

Relax. There are three of us.

If they try anything,
just whip out a bootlace and...

take 'em out from behind - nice and easy.

Er... So, yeah, Dobs, I just wanted
to say, about the... million-text month...

Sorry.

I was just not feeling like chatting.

After the weird picnic, I just felt...

You know when you wanna get the fuck out,
because you're getting suffocated?

Those last few months,
me and you, do you remember?

We used to just sit on the sofa
watching DVD's

and eating lamb pasanda
like a pair of zombies.

Yeah. Was sort of like
a living death, wasn't it?

It was lovely.

Yeah, cos I've actually been thinking
of maybe training it to Budapest

and getting into mime
and fucking street theatre.

Yeah? You don't wanna hitch in England,
but you wanna mime in Hungary?

Oh, God, no.

Why would anyone be driving around
at this time? It doesn't make any sense.

Dobby, we're not seriously
going to get into a stranger's car?

It's an adventure, Mark.
They could be anyone.

Poets, hippies, freaks, norms.

Maniacs, people smugglers,
organ harvesters.

Mm, everyone's drinking the Kool-Aid.

I don't want any delicious Kool-Aid.

- (TINNY MUSIC)
- The tinny vibration.

God, that's annoying.
That has gotta hurt.

I'm aggressively glancing.
Constant eye flicks and no smile.

Man, he's gotta be hurting.
This is inhuman.

I'm slaying him.

What the hell am I doing
in this horrible coach

instead of spooning with a lovely guy?

Do I love Joe? Do I love Megan?

Do I love this guy sitting next to me?

Am I a guy who just slept with a guy,
which is fine,

or am I a guy who is a gay guy,
which is also fine,

or am I a guy who sometimes sleeps
with guys and sometimes doesn't?

Which is also fine.

It's all totally fine.

So, why are you all out, then?
You guys looking for a good time, or what?

God, they're doggers.
I'm gonna get dogged.

Oh, we've just been out
for a few tomato juices, heading home.

Do you know anywhere haunted?

Properly haunted,
not just bullshit for tourists?

What do you think?
Have we got time for a quick detour?

We could go up to the old air-raid shelter
up on the top road, mebbee.

Oh, my God.
! knew someone was gonna get murdered.

- (WHISPERS) Hans!
- What?

- Do not murder him.
- What did you say?

- Er, nothing.
- Did you tell him to murder us?

No, no, I-I-I said not to murder you.

Just doing up my laces, guys.
Relax, for fuck's sake.

Why are you talking about murdering us?

No, no murdering.
It's-It's a misunderstanding.

Cos if you come for us, I'll chop you up
and feed you into a fucking septic tank.

Touché. We... We relent.
Seriously, no... no harm meant.

- I momentarily thought that there was
an outside chance that my pal

might be gonna try to murder you
and I was just checking that he wasn't,

so... we're all good.

So, what's, er... what's your position
on the whole Euro situation?

Oh, my God. I thought Hans
was actually gonna garrotte him.

I know.

And then I thought no-one was gonna
challenge that guy on his xenophobic rant,

but I just had to say it,
I couldn't let it go.

I think it's good how you said it.

I mean, I would have said it... eventually.

Maybe a bit closer to our destination.

How much further is it?

Fuck knows. Like, three miles.

Man, Molly's gonna shit a house brick.

Right... I'm running.

- No... shoes?
- No, man.

Mother Nature's trainer, the human foot.

Right, laters.

Oh, and, er, watch out for wolves.

There are no wolves in East Anglia, Hans.

Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,
Marco.

Ooh, you fucker!

Oh, God. Five miles?

If it gets too freezing,
we could always sleep in a barn.

The prospect of spending the night

huddled in a haystack with Dobby
should be thrilling.

But all I can think about is my hotel bed
and my pillow chocolate.

I want my pillow chocolate.

Oh, no pillow chocolate.

I don't expect them
to actually run me a bath.

I simply want to eat some chocolate
off my pillow

- like a normal human being.
- (KNOCK ON DOOR)

Could it be Dobby?

Maybe Gregory's minor headache
was an aneurysm.

Heh-heh! Naughty but nice.

Oh.

- Hey.
- I thought you'd be here tomorrow.

I am actually quite tired, so...

- The inevitable Jez.
- How's the... Dobby mission... going?

Disaster. She's got a boyfriend.

She seems a lot happier,
comfier in her own skin.

She's blossomed.

I hate it when that happens.

Yeah, so, um, I know we don't have
that many heart-to-heart chats,

but, um, there's something
I need to talk to you about.

Uh-huh.
! know nothing. Don't pre-empt.

- Blank face, blank face.
- Look,

you're the last person
who I would ideally talk to about this,

but the fact is,
this will come as something of a shock.

Total surprise.

Earlier tonight,
I had sex with a man in my bedroom,

-and...
- I'm... I'm sorry, in your bedroom?

Yeah. And...

I have feelings for this guy, Joe,
but I kind of walked out on him and...

Just to clarify,
you were in... your bedroom?

Yes, Mark.

Anyway, um, as I was saying,
I really like this guy...

Not the kitchen, or-or the living room,
or any other room in the flat?

I'm talking about possibly the biggest
thing that's ever happened in my life

and you're obsessing
about... roomal geography?

No, fine. Go on. I-I-I'm sorry.

I thought I was just totally open,
totally cool,

but now I wonder if...

inside, I don't have
some shame or confusion

- deep in there.
- Uh-huh, I get it, mate.

And-And what, out-out of interest,
was the temperature like in the room

- when... when you were... doing it?
- Normal,

unheated, regular air temperature.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Hey, Mark, Gregory forgot his toothbrush.
Oh, hey, Jez.

- Hey, Dobs.
- Sorry, am I interrupting?

I'll-I'll leave you two to... Sorry.

Good luck!

Dobby, are you all right?

Sorry, it's just...

I know something about you
which I shouldn't really know,

but I do know, but it's not my fault.

Anyway, really great, Jez,
everything, bye.

Did you...?

- Do you... know?
- Look,

I'm sorry, Jez, but I've...

I've got a webcam in my bedroom.

Oh, my God! You watched me...?

- I saw the whole thing and so did Dobby.
- (KNOCK ON DOOR)

Hey, Mark, Dobs forgot the charger.
Can I grab it?

Oh. Wow, you must be Jeremy.

- Yes. How do you...?
- I, er... must have seen you before...

around.

See you later.

Him as well?

You chose to go into my bedroom.
You... You filmed yourself.

I didn't know your room
was bristling with surveillance equipment.

(DOOR OPENS)

- All right, Jez?
- Hans.

So, er, it's all cool with Molly.

Look, I just wanted to say
about tonight, um... sorry...

about the garrotting.

I fucked up a nice lift home
for us there and, er,

well, you didn't break my nuts about it.

That's what real mates do. They, er...

they take a pounding,
but they still come up smiling.

Bit like Jez with that bloke in your bed.

God, has the entire world
seen this fucking video?

I came here to talk to someone about this,
get some perspective.

Turns out I can just read
the fucking YouTube comments.

Yeah. They might be good comments.

Good afternoon.
My name's Katie Mitchell...

JEREMY: First mistake -
no bouncers at the wedding. I'm in.

Plus, the great thing is,

I've escaped the strong, comforting
arms of the sexy, affectionate man.

...to conduct this ceremony
for them today.

So, it's my great pleasure...

(WHISPERS) Gregory sure loves his phone.

Looking at his phone and she loves it.
I could look at my phone.

We all wanna look at our phones.

They will now recite the vows
they have written together.

I will not fail nor falter.

I shall succeed. My perception is altered.

I do believe.

Faith is so strong now.

Nothing shall bar my way.

From conviction, no fiction.

This is my day.

I can move, move, move any mountain.

I can move, move, move any mountain.

BOTH: I can move, move, move
any mountain.

- Simon...
- MARK: Simon?

Super Simon? Simon Hans?

...and into my heart.

You are... the best of men.

The truest, kindest, most generous of men.

JEREMY: I think he might be
the opposite of all those words.

I'm getting married.

And I would punch in the throat
anyone who tried to stop me.

That is how I feel today, Molly.

So suffused with love,
I'd put a glass in the face of anyone

who tried to stop us
joining our souls together.

I'd hospitalise them.

Hear, hear.

The bride and groom.

MARK: Mention the seven years
working in Richer Sounds in Kew,

miss out the Thai jail,

on to the bands, drop the first marriage,
hit Jeremy and their long friendship,

minus all the bad blood and occasional
sucking each other off, blah, blah, blah.

Wrap up with a toast to the bride
and groom, Hans, or-or possibly Simon,

and his wife, whose Christian name
I've unfortunately forgotten.

Shit!
I don't really know either of their names.

There's Dobby. She doesn't like pasanda
and quality TV drama.

She likes hitchhiking
and terrifying actual drama.

We don't fit. Oh, my God!

I'm letting go. I've crossed the bridge
into adulthood. I'm moving on.

I'm gonna delete her off my GPS.

Weird. It looks like
she's right behind me.

Fuck! What the...?

- Oof!
- I know you're stalking Dobby.

I tracked your IP address.
You still love her.

Gregory, believe me, I-I don't.
I-I'm not. I've stopped.

- When?
- Literally just now.

I-I was just about
to delete her off my phone.

You douchebag!

I promise you,
I-I don't like her any more.

She-She's always saying
exactly what she's thinking,

with-with no regards for the consequences

and-and she's got weird hair,
and-and she smokes.

Ah, please don't punch me.
I wish you both well.

I wish you both Well!

Um... Excuse me, ladies and gents.

Excuse me. Oil

Sorry, hi. Er, I'm afraid the, er,
the best man, er, has gone AWOL.

Um, but don't worry. Just-Just eat
some cheese and I'll get it sorted.

Jez, Jez.

Um, would you...?

- But I've got nothing prepared.
- That's all right.

Just freestyle it, man, yeah?

But don't, er... Obviously, don't rap.

Remember? After Stoke? You never rap.

(GLASS DINGS)

Hans...

Super... Hans...

I've known Hans for many a year now.

It's been a long road and now,
as you've found Molly,

er, and...

I don't really want to get into this,
but I've started it now,

but I'm gonna bring it round,
so don't worry.

People said Molly wasn't right for you.
That she was a downer.

But you know what? If someone
loves someone, he just... loves them.

And if that person
is considered to be a downer,

or even a yawn-a-thon, who cares?

And even if someone
loves another man... or...

What's in a name?

Or gender?

Is it possible
to love two people at once? Three?

Four is surely the limit.

But is it?

What is love anyway? Is it, er...

an act or a feeling...

or who am I to speak?

Who are you to listen?

Why is a marriage a marriage,

but society says it's wrong
for two men to love one another

even though...

now it says it says that now it's OK?

Is it OK because society says it's OK?
What next?

Dogs getting married?
Could I marry my own son?

No.

Possibly not?

Correct.

Or is it? What I'm trying to say

is that people should do
whatever they want to do

at a temperature that suits them
within limits.

Thank you.

Pretty sure someone's gonna print
that speech on a tea towel someday.

Yeah! Eat that, Obama.

Fuck off, Mandela. Take that, Mark.

I'm the best man.
I'm the best man who ever lived.

♪ Paranoia, paranoia, ♪
♪ everybody's coming to get me ♪

♪ Just say you never met me ♪

♪ I'm running underground with the moles ♪

♪ Digging holes. ♪