All language subtitles for Suburban Shootout S01 Ep3

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Original subtitles

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Tired? lacking vitality? Sex drive like a panda?

Get out of the doldrums and into the action zone with the oestrogen wonder-drug

that's changed the lives of millions of mature women.

Just one easily-applied patch every day

will turn your hot flush into a hot streak

and give you back your youth, energy and laboratory-endorsed zippity-do.

Your desire for sex will be anamorphosised overnight

without either organ discolouration or unsightly fat deposits.

Buy into tomorrow's genderising medicine today

and let a beautiful new you out of the box with a money-back guarantee.

And we're smuggIing in French gear which is six times stronger.

It's gonna bIow the recreationaI drug market wide open and make us a fucking fortune.

Like cocaine, ecstasy and Viagra

aII bIended into one super sexy wonder-patch.

Yeah. Why shouId menopausaI women have aII the fun?

When are we taIking to the French psycho about the sampIes?

- We're not. - I thought today was the day?

It is but I thought a certain ex biIinguaI secretary might come in more usefuI

when it comes to the nuances of the French Ianguage.

(Camilla) Be outside the phone box on Wolverton Drive at 10:45

and don't be late or Jeremy dies.

Only joking, Joyce. Love Camilla.

- I've got to go out. - Why?

EarIy morning aerobic session.

With Barbara. What's that?

ApparentIy, it's a penis gourd from the Ngaku tribe.

BiII's back.

- Where is he? - He's gone for a jog.

- What if he gets Iost? - Don't be siIIy, darIing.

This is LittIe Stempington, not the Okavango DeIta.

- Joyce, hi. - I thought you'd want to see this.

Damn. What the heII's she up to now?

Ready for the next sheII now, Babs.

Better stay over here for a sec, Joyce.

- What's that? - WorId War II mortar bomb.

HighIy unstabIe. We're peppering the topsoiI with them.

Why are you doing that?

Low-cost housing. We can't aIIow that in LittIe Stempington.

Ever seen what a mortar sheII can do to a ten-ton JCB digger, Joyce?

- This note might give us a Iead. - I can't do this any more, Barbara.

I've got a son at home I haven't seen for six months.

He'II be wondering where I am.

Come on, Joyce. Remember what we're fighting for here.

I'm not sure I know any more.

Nothing Iess than a fuII-scaIe defence of LittIe Stempington Iife.

If we take CamiIIa down, you'II get your freedom back

and Jeremy gets to keep his kneecaps.

- Right. - OK.

Let's get you kitted up. We've got work to do.

Sorry.

I'II meet Joyce. You and LiIIian find out why the parking fines revenues have dried up.

You think that gimp Handyside's up to something?

- PossibIy. - As of now, he's fucking pig food.

Don't kiII him. Without his money, the French deaI is definiteIy off.

Nice car, AIan. Very sporty.

- Nought to 60 in eight seconds.

- Mm. - The, er, seats recIine a fuII 65 degrees.

You shouId Iet me take you for a spin sometime.

How about now?

But first, couId you answer a teeny-weeny IittIe question?

How does a pig-faced parking officer afford a 20 grand muff magnet

on the pittance you get paid?

I've been doing some overtime.

TroubIe is, AIan, your overtime seems to coincide with a drop in revenue on our side.

Now, I'm a Virgo

which means I'm fun-Ioving, I'm passionate

and I Iove force-feeding men Iike you their own testicIes.

What are you gonna do to me?

I'm going to take you up on that IoveIy offer of a drive, of course.

Your stronger than you think, Joyce. You can heIp us take CamiIIa down.

Testing, testing, one, two, three.

I'm reaIIy sorry. I wasn't concentrating.

- Are you OK? - My airway feeIs reaIIy tight.

- Oh, maybe I shouId caII an ambuIance. - No.

I onIy Iive round the corner.

It's the big house with the Tuscan graveI drive.

If you couId just carry me back, I'd be very gratefuI.

Keys are in my shorts pocket.

I think I missed it. No, hang on.

- Oui, oui, d'accord. J'�coute.

He says their representative is aIready in the country.

The French are coming, Barb.

- Moat House tonight, 6pm. - Tonight?

Room 168.

The Iine's gone dead.

Exciting, isn't it?

No snacking on the fiIo parceIs whiIe you're in there.

- CamiIIa's expecting us for Iunch. - And stop bIeeding.

Think it'II stiII do nought to 60 in eight seconds with fat boy in the back?

One way to find out.

You don't think it couId have got infected, do you?

You know, in Africa they disinfect wounds by sponging urine onto them for three days.

But I hardIy know you.

- Oh, no. I didn't mean... - TeII me more about Africa.

Did you faII in Iove with a tribaI princess?

No...but I did meet a French wiIdIife photographer.

French girIs with cameras are usuaIIy Iesbians.

I didn't know that.

It was on the Discovery ChanneI.

Oh,

you've got such big, heaIing hands.

I don't know about you but I'm famished.

Fancy a Caesar saIad?

- I shouId be getting back for BiII. - I'm sure BiII won't mind.

But I haven't seen him for six months.

You'd be wise to do as I say, Joyce.

Up a bit. A bit more.

Oh, God, that feeIs good.

LittIe gIass of Pinot Grigio?

In there. Oh, just get aII your fingers into it.

Yes. In there.

Oh, God, that feeIs good.

- BiII. - Mum.

I thought you went jogging.

- I knocked over JeweI. - He was Iike a charging wiIdebeest.

- I was massaging her adductor Iongus. - Oh, is that what they caII it these days?

- It's IoveIy to see you, darIing. Oh. - Oh.

You Iook so grown-up, darIing.

He does, doesn't he?

He's been teIIing me about his trip.

- This is my mum, by the way. - We're more Iike sisters, reaIIy.

CaII me CamiIIa.

Gosh, I hope that's just baby oiI.

- PIeased to meet you. - Oh, put some cIothes on, darIing.

I'm sure PauIa RadcIiffe doesn't sprawI aII over an ItaIian Ieather sofa

- in her bra and knickers after a marathon. - You do with Daddy.

Now.

Unfinished business.

I think we shouId be going. I want to hear aII about Africa.

Any time you're in the area, feeI free to pop in and use the hot tub, BiII.

And don't forget about the festivaI of French cuIture at the hoteI Iater.

You might find some gear that's right up your street.

Cheerio.

Whatia, whatia.

Oh...

Ka Mate, Ka Mate, Ka Ora

Oh, Ka Mate

- BiIIy boy. - Book 'em, Danno.

- So how was it? - Amazing.

- What d'you think of the new pIace? - Great, so far.

Hope it's not too quiet for you.

The Iad's oId enough to know what he's doing.

I'm worried about him getting invoIved with a IocaI girI

- when he goes to university soon. - She seems Iike a bright spark to me.

I'm amazed you couId gIean anything with aII that make-up.

AII those strong, scantiIy-cIad Masai warrior women probabIy got his juices fIowing.

I wonder what the ribbing's for.

I'II go.

HeIIo, Africa boy.

Fancy a spin?

It was parked right there.

JeweI.

Joyce, hi.

FoIIow me. Any chafing from the nippIe mic?

- No. - Good.

Cooee. Joyce is here.

- God. - For God's sake, Margaret.

Thanks for coming, Joyce. Hoo, these French feIIas may be a nasty bunch.

So we're gonna give you a crash course in weapons training, just in case.

In case of what?

In case they fire one of these monsters at you.

- I reaIIy don't think there's any need. - Oh, I'm sure nothing's gonna happen.

It's just a precaution.

ShaII I show you?

Maybe we shouId start Joyce on...something smaIIer?

I'd been camping in the bush before

but I'd never made the mistake of wandering off the path untiI that moment.

- So what happened? - So the mamba was about to strike

and I didn't see it.

But IuckiIy, Mwembo did.

And he managed to grab it by the neck just in time.

Oh, God, it aII sounds so dangerous.

What was that?

ProbabIy just doggers or the town perv.

ReaIIy?

Nothing exciting ever happens in this town.

UntiI now, maybe.

I don't recaII saying you couId borrow Mummy's new car.

WeII, if you bought me one Iike you keep promising, I wouIdn't have to take yours.

Out you get. Come on, madam. I'm Iate for a very important meeting.

You too, Tarzan.

- Sorry. - Don't apoIogise.

- See anything yet?

The buffet Iooks busy tonight.

Wait. There's CamiIIa.

Mutton dressed as Iamb.

Sorry I'm Iate.

Bonjour. Je m'appeIIe Joyce HazIedine.

Enchant�.

- So down to business. - You speak EngIish.

When it suits me.

Looks Iike a standard oestrogen patch

but this baby is eight times stronger than the kind you get in your Boots the chemist.

SIap on one of these and you'II turn into Courtney Love.

We'II be the judge of that.

What's going on, Joyce?

- Joyce Iooks fIustered. - ShaII I shoot the Frenchman?

Quiet whiIe I Iisten to him.

OK, Margaret.

Finger on the trigger and shoot him in the head.

Wait. Joyce is saying something.

Sorry.

- What the fuck is going on? - Joyce?

It's my Wonderbra. They don't have them in France. I might need a IittIe heIp.

Let's show him we mean business.

Super cIear shot.

PIease. PIease, pIease, pIease.

CIever girI, Joyce.

When you've tried the merchandise, caII me.

But take it easy, uh? This stuff is dynamite.

We'II be in touch.

- One question. - What?

Why is he covered in sun-dried tomatoes and fiIo pastry, hm?

What did he say?

He asked if I'd Iike to get naked with him and share some cocaine.

You've got a wicked sense of humour for a shy girI, Joyce.

WeII done, Joyce. You acted Iike a reaI pro today.

I just need you to do me one more IittIe favour.

Use one of these super strength oestrogen patches

every day for the next ten days without faiI.

What if I say no?

I wouIdn't give great odds on BiII keeping his virginity if you do, Joyce.

We'II aII have a go.

And don't even think about handing in a sick note.

I'II be bIood testing you next week.

I'd pop the heating on for an hour or so if I were you, Joyce.

- Hi, darIing, it's Mummy.

No, I'II be home soon.

What?

Yes, it's a baby crying in the background.

A big baby. TeII Daddy that I said you couId heIp yourseIf to a HobNob from the tin.

Bye, honey. Big kiss.

I'II seII the car and pay you back. Just don't kiII me, pIease.

For God's sake. Let's put him out of his misery.

I'II teII you what, AIan.

You take off those rancid underpants,

show us what you're reaIIy made of,

and we might just Iet you run aIong home.

Off you go.

He's made a nice job of turning the soiI for your sweet peas.

Adios, fat boy.

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