All language subtitles for Toast Of London s02e03

Evening, Steven.
A lot to get through, yeah?

How much? What the hell is this?

Sat Nav for the Elderly -
it's a new option.

Sat Nav?

Is that the client's name?
That sounds Indian.

So I'm guessing that's you.

Not quite, Steven.

Sat Nav is the brand name
of a voiced-automated travel service.

You what? Audio travel information.

Yeah, well, as you can see, Steven,
there's a lot to get through,

so let's crack on, yeah?
It may be a long night.

Hello, Steven. This is
Clem Fandango. Can you hear me?

Here we go.

Steven?
Yeah, I can hear you, Clem Fandango!

There's over 700 pages, so the sooner
we get started, the sooner we sign off.

Well, stop talking then,
you silly prick!

God!

Are we rolling? All good, buddy.

You are now turning into..

Abbotsbree,

Abingdun,

Acton,

Albrighton,

Alcester,

Alford,

Allmouth, Allnick,

Alstun, Aylshum,

Amershum,

Andover,

Accrington,

Aylesham...

Ashbourne,

Ascot, Ashburton,

Axminsterrr...

St Albans,

St Leonards Warrior Square,

St Peter Port...

Who the hell are you?

St Saviour...

What the hell's the time?
Fuck this.

You must be looking forward to going
back into the West End again? Yes.

Er, it's a legendary play.

There can't be many theatregoers
who haven't heard of The Moosetrap.

How long has it been running?

60 years, and, er,
still attracting huge audiences.

That is such a long time. What do you
think is the secret to its success?

Well, it's a good old-fashioned
murder-mystery, really.

Right. It's well-plotted,

and the fact that the chauffeur
is the murderer

is very cleverly concealed from the audience
with a series of delicious red herrings.

The chauffeur did it?
The chauffeur is the murderer, yes.

Well, The Moosetrap's running in the
West End until... forever, really,

so do go along and you'll see
our special guest, Mr Steven Toast.

Thanks for coming in, Steven.
Thank YOU.

And I hope I don't come across as crude by
saying this, but you really are sex on legs.

You should be on the TV
where more people can see you.

I don't suppose you fancy
going for a drink, do you? Hm?

I've had a hell of a morning, Jane!

I was up all night
doing that voiceover

and then I did the radio interview.
I was quite pleased with myself.

And then I went to The Colonial Club

and, for some reason,
nobody would talk to me.

I was up most of the night, too,
Toast,

cleaning this collection
of antique firearms.

Yeah, what the hell is it with all
that? Where did you get them from?

Michael Winner loaned them to me. I'm kind
of stuck with them now, since he's dead.

And then this morning,
I heard your interview.

You know that play's been running
for...

60 years? Yes.

And in all that time,
no-one, not one single person,

has revealed the climax of the play,
where the murderer is unmasked?

Yes.

But today, live on Woman's Hour,

you revealed the name
of the murderer.

Yes!

You see what you've done, Toast?

Yes?

Think of the implications
for a moment.

Yes?

Well?

Oh, God!

What are the implications?

The implications are

that, as a result of your actions
this morning,

no director,
or actor for that matter,

will ever want anything
to do with you.

Well, that's why people weren't
talking to me in The Colonial Club earlier.

Anyone see Mark Rylance
on The Culture Show last night?

What's that smell, Royce?
It's dreadful.

Smell, Purchase? Yes.

It smells like someone's
just fucked up their career!

You were being shunned, Toast.

Shunned? Yes.

You've done something really dreadful
by giving away the end of that play.

The Colonial is an actors' club.
They were quite right to shun you.

It's not nice being shunned.

Luckily, shunning doesn't last long.
You can go back in a couple of days.

But anyone who wanted to see that
Moosetrap play probably won't bother now

because you told them
who the murderer is.

No, no, Jane!
It's like that Titanic film.

Everybody knew what was going to happen in
the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.

This is very different, Toast.

Honestly, Jane, I don't think anybody's
going to agree with you about this.

It's like that Titanic film.

Everybody knew what was going to happen in
the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.

This is very different, Toast.

Honestly, Davison, I don't think anybody's
going to agree with you about this!

It's like that Titanic film.

Everyone knew what was going to happen in
the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.

This is very different, Toast! Oh!

Honestly, Mrs P, I don't think anybody's
going to agree with you about this.

It's like that Titanic film.

Everyone knew what was going to happen in
the end, but it was still a tremendous hit.

This is very different, Toast.

To be honest, Ed, a few people
have said that to me now.

It's quite serious, to give away
the ending of such a legendary play.

It probably doesn't matter much
to the cast, they've been in it for years,

completely zombified,
going through the motions.

But 60 years...! Can you imagine?

I say?

Hello?

Hello?

Oh! Er...

I'm Steven Toast.

Ahh.

I'm playing the detective.

Oh! Oh, yes,

our new cast member!

I-I'm Ken Suggestion.

Good to meet you, Post.
No, no. Toast.

Philip, dear?

Philip, this is our new cast member,

Post. As in deaf as a...

And I'm Penny Traitor.

Is the producer or director around?

Sorry?

The producer or director,

are they around?

No, no. It's just us, I'm afraid.

Well, who takes charge
of rehearsals?

Rehearsals?

I haven't even been sent a script!

Oh, well. Well, there may be a copy
of the play lying around somewhere.

Who would have one?

Albert may have a copy.

Yes, yes.

Is he around? Oh, fucking hell!

Albert!

Albert!

What news? What?
Of the outside world?

We're a bit isolated in here.

Oh. Oh, right. Well, erm...

David Cameron is still PM.

Not that you'd notice. I mean,
I can't even remember what he looks like!

Who?!

Really?

Any sign of that script? Yes.

Here's Albert now.

Do you have a copy of the play

for Post here?

Thank you, Albert.

Right.

The play's awful

but, luckily, I don't appear until the third act
when I quickly solve the murder.

Yes, and you know who did it? The chauffeur!
We all know that, thanks to you.

All right!

Anyway, looking forward
to seeing the play again.

What a relief to see a show that isn't full of
bad language, immigrants and sex-change artists.

And unlike most modern dramas,
it isn't set in the north,

glorifying the type of scroungers
one sees on Benefits Street.

And I don't even have to follow the plot or
anything, because I know the chauffeur did it.

All right, Blair, keep it down!

Still, a regular job for you, Toast.

Play your cards right, you could be in
gainful employment for the next 30 years!

Where the bloody hell is he?
It's not like him to be late.

Ah, there he is!

Who the fuck is that?
Denis Thwaites.

Retired commander
of the Household Cavalry Regiment.

Still likes to wear the uniform!

Denis, good to see you.

Gin! Tonic!

No, no, Dennis,
this chap isn't a waiter.

He's my brother.

Why does he think I'm a waiter?
Cos you bloody look like one!

A lot of people have remarked on it.
It's the 'tache.

Thwaites, Dennis!
This is Steven Toast.

Toast, Steven? Toast, Blair!

Ah!

How was your journey from Ipswich,
Dennis? Come down on Farage, did you?

On who? Farage, Dennis' horse.

What, did he ride a horse
all the way from Ipswich? Yes!

The only reason I'm meeting
Dennis here, in this bugger house,

it's one of the few places in London where
you can still tie up your horse outside.

Christ, Cambridge!

Roadworks at Cambridge,
were there, Dennis?

Roadworks, Cambridge!

You said you were using that new
device, Sat Nav for the Elderly.

Rubbish, useless!
It probably doesn't work on horses.

Why the fuck is he talking
in that crazy way?

Since Dennis retired
from the regiment,

he's landed himself
a cushy little job at the BBC.

He's the announcer
on that university quiz programme.

Oh, that! Yes, I haven't seen that in 30 years,
but there again, I never watch television.

Though I have heard Breaking Bad
is very good.

What happens is,
the student presses a buzzer

when he, or she...

thinks they know the answer,

and Dennis gives the name
and university.

That's the easiest job in the world!
Mm. Dennis is getting a bit tired of the travelling, though,

especially since he goes everywhere
by horse, so he's retiring.

I could do that job.
How much do you earn in a year?

Half a... million!

Shit!

Could you put a word in for me?
Certainly, yes!

You'd have to watch yourself, Toast.
You'll probably have to meet Paxman.

Who? Jeremy Paxman,
the miserable presenter!

Year above me at Eton. He was
a sullen little prick even then.

Who cares? Half a million quid

just for saying the names
of a bunch of students?

Ha! Easy, peasy!

Don't do that, Toast.

"Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats.

"Tonight's performance will begin
in five minutes."

I say... Mm?

It's a little queer that there aren't any
directors or stage managers around!

We've been at it so long

that everything more or less happens
automatically!

No real dramas to speak of.

Apart from Ken.

Ken? What about Ken?

He just occasionally
forgets his lines

when a new actor
joins the production,

or-or there isn't a full house.

One... minute...

until curtain up.

All right, let's do this.

What? There's no-one there!

I need a full house! I can't go on!

Get a fucking grip, woman!

What did he say?

I am Inspector Attenborough
from Scotland Yard.

One of your servants rang me
about a murder,

so I wish to interview you all.

No?

You don't come on till act three!

Right.

I'll be back.

Yes, I know, It's act three.

I'm on in a... moment.

There's not many in tonight.

So, what time did you hear
this scream, Colonel Granville?

I, erm, er,

er, er...

Miss Crabtree informed us
that she retired at 11.30.

Was it after that?

Say your line, man!
I've forgotten it.

The chauffeur did it.
Oh, bloody hell!

I say, the chauffeur did it! Yes!

'I say, the chauffeur did it!
The chauffeur did it!

'The chauffeur did it!'
'The chauffeur is the murderer, yes.

'The chauffeur is the murderer,
yes.'

There's not many in...

tonight.

There's a chill

In the air

The still

Of the night

The stalls and theatre bare

There's not many in tonight

There is a chill

Within the air

The still of the night

The stalls and theatre bare

There's not many in tonight

There is a chill

Within the air

The still of the night

The stalls and theatre bare

There's not many in tonight

Oh, thank God!

Finishing touches...!

Ha-ha!

Starter for ten.

I think Oxford is the better team,
Toast.

Maybe you should swap Sooty
and Richard Osman?

It doesn't matter, Ed.

I wanted Salman Rushdie and Germaine
Greer instead of Sooty and Sweep,

but I couldn't find their picteers.

Why do we have to have any women? I've never
noticed a woman on that quiz programme.

Who cares, Blair?
It's important that I get this job.

That play's a disaster.

Ed, you be Oxford.
Blair, you're Cambridge.

Get on your buzzers
and I'll practice saying the names.

Chemistry. "What ionic logarithm

"is the carbon derivative of ten?"

Well, come on, buzz. Who'd be good at chemistry?
You've selected mostly classicists and journalists.

Well, can we at least get rid of
Janet Street-Porter?

Just press anything!

Oxford, Fry!

Well, I don't know the answer.
Me neither. Have you got any questions on military history?

Look, scrap that. Randomly press
and I'll say the names.

Hm...

Cambridge, Yentob!

Oxford, Kureishi!

Cambridge, Sweep!

Ah, this is quite fun, actually.
Isn't it? And I'm excellent at it.

Yes, it's noticeable that the women
haven't answered anything.

When's your audition? Three o'clock.

Will Paxman be there? Apparently so.

It's funny you've never heard
about him. I never watch television.

Although, I hear Breaking Bad
is very good.

Sorry, Toast,

I think it's electrocuting me!

I'm not quite sure where we are,
Toast.

Since they closed down
Television Centre,

nobody really knows
where the BBC actually is now.

I haven't got a clue either, Ed.

Do you have a sat nav?

Good thought, Toast. As it happens,
I bought one just recently.

Ah. Let's see...

"You are now turning into...

"..St Wafford.

"Abergavenny.

"What the hell's the time?
Fuck this!"

Um, was that...? Yeah.

Ah.

"Who the hell are you? Albrighton!

"Ah, fuck this!"

There it is! Stop!

What the...?

Like the sound of that? Thought not.

Who the hell are you again?

Who the hell...? I'm Steven Toast.

I'm here for the university
quiz-show voiceover gig.

Steven Toast. And what are your
qualifications for this job exactly?

I'm an experienced actor
and voiceover artist.

I'm a little surprised
you haven't heard of me.

Steven Toast...

Hang on a second. Oh, God!

You're that idiot that gave away
the ending of The Moosetrap.

I went on Woman's Hour on Radio 4
and was asked a question -

Did you give away the ending
of The Moosetrap?

I was asked a question
on said show -

Did you give away the ending
of The Moosetrap?

Many topics were discussed,

one of which was The Moo-

Did you give away the ending of The Moosetrap?!
It was a promotional interview!

She asked me the question and I? Did you
give away the ending of The Moosetrap?!!

Why the fuck
do you keep asking me that?

You're a rude fella,
if you don't mind me saying.

And you're an idiot!

What did you just say?
You'll apologise for that, big boy.

No, I won't.

What's that meant to be? That's my
sculpture of the Angel of the North, which I made out of matchsticks.

Well, if you don't apologise, I'll smash
your sculpture of the Angel of the North,

which you made out of matchsticks.

You wouldn't dare.

That was a very stupid thing to do.

Paxman?

Paxman? Where the hell did he go?

And so it becomes very clear,

an unlikely killer, to be sure,

but there was only one person

who had the motive, means
and opportunity

to commit such a foul deed.

The murderer is...

Lady Beddington. Huh?

That's a surprise. What?!

No, no, you idiot!
The chauffeur did it!

No. It was Lady Beddington.

No, no, this is all wrong!
The chauffeur did it!

My God! I think she's dead.

Oh, brilliant.

What's going on, Toast? I was just
trying to shake things up a bit.

How dare you, Post!

Toast, you fucknut!

You bloody ruined it! Rubbish!
Out of my way!

Oh, that's right, yeah, go on,
desert a sinking ship!

Bugger off to Cats,
or whatever it is you losers enjoy.

Screw you, old-timers!

Good for you, Toast.

Agh!

There's not many in tonight.

I know! So you keep saying!

60 years, Toast...

60 long and successful years,

and now the show has closed
and a wonderful actress has died.

I didn't know she was
one of your clients, Jane. Yes.

The only thing she did apart from that play
was an episode of Poldark in 1973.

It's such a tragedy!

And all down to you.

You won't be able to show your face around here
for a while. I think you should go and live in France.

And one more thing...

What's this I hear about you on that
university quiz-show on the BBC?

Ah...
Just about to tell me, were you?

Going behind my back, trying to get jobs
on your own, were you, you fucking weasel!

I just fancied the - "Fancied myself
as an agent," by the sounds of things.

What have I said? You are never...
Never to try and get jobs on my own.

Never, ever try and get jobs
on your own.

You haven't got this job, anyway.

Who got it? Well, not you,

because apparently, you had some kind
of argument with Jeremy Paxman,

destroyed his matchstick model of the angel
of the north and threw him out of a window.

Did you throw Jeremy Paxman
out of a window?

No!

Well, kind of.

I didn't throw him out of a window, though
he did end up going through a window.

Unbelievable behaviour, Toast.
You have created a perfect fiasco!

And now you're "kind of" throwing
Jeremy Paxman out of windows and destroying his matchstick models.

Really, Toast? I mean, really?!

I think you know what to do.

And do a good job this time. Your
last attempt wasn't very thorough.

Here's your starter for ten.
What was the name of the second-rate actor

who single-handedly forced the closure
of the legendary play The Moosetrap,

after a successful 60-year run
in London's West End?

Cambridge, Clacy-Smith!

Steven Post? Near enough.

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