Original subtitles

This week on "Pete versus Life," the

would be sports hack faces some truly terrifying opponents

at the top of their game.

There's his best mates' girlfriend, Trish.

She works 9 to 5.

But unlike Dolly Parton, she loves every minute.

Magazine supremo, Giles, he seems a charmer.

But he once bitch slapped Jimmy Nail with a toilet seat.

And editor, Tony, angry at the world since he

lost a testicle paint balling.

Let's see how he gets on, in "Pete versus Life."

Welcome, I'm Colin King.

And I'm Terry Mcllroy.

You join us with Pete on his way to a bar.

But he's dawdling.

What's going on?

Well Colin, he's arranged to meet Ollie

and his new girlfriend, Trish.

And he's trying to make sure that there's no chance

of being stuck on his own.

So he doesn't like her?

No, on the contrary.

He fancies her so much his brain turns to cottage cheese.

Oh, she's on her own.

Pete, hi.

Why is everyone so late?

This could get very awkward.

Oh, hello, Trish.

What's he going to go for?

Do you want a drink?

Uh, no. I'm... I'm all right.

Oh, go on.

No, I'm fine.

- I'm paying. - Yeah, I know.

But I'm fine. - Oh, go on.

Line 'em up.

I know you like a drink.

Well, no young lady likes

to be called an alcoholic.

But going to the bar could buy him some time.

Oh, but the barman's right there.

And he's being served immediately.

He's normally there for at least

a good 10 minutes before he gets noticed.

I think his record is 23 minutes.

And on that occasion, it was a nine-year-old

that got served ahead of him.

And her head didn't even go above the bar.

Woeful.

But somehow he's managed to think up

two concrete conversational ideas, last night's telly,

and whether or not there's a Beast of Bodmin Moor.

After that Colin, we're very much in bird territory.

Well, looks like Trish has got company.

She is being hit on there.

And she's not enjoying it.

No, just look at the body language,

the crossed arms, minimal eye contact,

she's closed for business.

And she doesn't want any deliveries from him.

Giles... Giles, I have a boyfriend.

Hello, Trish.

And here he is now.

Oof, look at that, totally unexpected.

So sorry.

It's really all right, Giles.

No, it's not all right.

I get a few drinks in me and I start behaving like this.

It's unforgiveable.

It's how I destroyed my marriage.

I promised myself I'd stop and then

you've done it again, Giles.

You've let yourself down.

When are you gonna learn?

Oh, just for a split second

there, Pete thought his nascent feelings for Trish

were being reciprocated.

And considering the small amount

of time involved, Pete got quite a long way

into a fantasy future.

Quite extraordinary, considering up to now, Pete

has found the idea of children both terrifying and repellent.

Actually, it would be well within your rights to just take

me outside and punch my lights.

Actually, do it, please.

No... no, I'm not doing that.

Trish is a beautiful girl.

And if it wasn't you, it would be some other lechy old man

trying his luck.

Oh, I'd hardly call Giles a lechy old man.

He's a senior managing editor where I work.

He personally controls the budget

of over 35 million pounds.

And he was the youngest ever member of the EPC Board.

Well, perhaps you should have got off with him then.

You're such a lovely couple.

I can't believe I did that.

Giles, it's fine.

It's forgotten.

Isn't it, darling?

Oh, hello.

Oh hello, Ollie.

Ollie.

Giles, this is my boyfriends' friend, Ollie.

Ollie, this is Giles, my senior managing editor.

And this is my girlfriend.

Yeah, I know.

We've met.

Ha.

So nice to see my old mate, Pete, finally

hooked up with a lovely girl.

Awe, she's the best.

Oh, you are.

Yeah, just remind me, Pete, where did you two meet again?

Um, on the internet.

Well, Trish, put in all her requirements for an ideal man.

And then out I popped.

Yes, you did.

Whoa.

Whoa. Whoa.

Hey. Hey.

- Steady on. - And everything.

Oh Ollie, I used to be like you,

seeing couples kissing in public used to make

me want to chop my guts up.

And now, here I am doing it with Trish in front of you.

So what do you do for a living, Pete?

I'm a sports writer.

Oh, one of our best selling titles is a sports magazine.

Well, what do I have to do to get an interview?

Oh, you don't need an interview.

No, no, no.

I've seen quite enough of you to know exactly what you're like.

Oh well, bloody bollocks to you then.

I think he's trying to offer you a job, Pete.

Oh, magic.

Well, this is a day I thought I'd never see.

A quarter to eight on a Monday morning and Pete clean shaven,

and ready to leave the house.

Yep.

Giles, as good as his word with a job.

And now Pete's a junior staff writer on "Sick as a Parrot."

It's his first proper salary job.

He's coming from the cold, national insurance

payments, the lot.

Something unusual about you at the moment.

Well, I've got a job.

No, that's not it.

You've got a woman.

- No, I haven't. - Yes you have.

If you haven't got a woman, there's a woman you want.

- Don't be ridiculous. - I can smell it on you.

I've worked with enough goats on my father's farm to know.

Oh, shut up.

You are ready, the rat.

Oh, shut up.

No, you reek of sex, Pete, reek of it.

No, I don't It's probably just that dressing gown.

Now get out of the way.

Some of us have got a job to go to.

And don't go looking through my stuff again.

All right? - Mm hmm.

All right.

Well, Pete certainly has got grounds

to be suspicious, as he's caught Kurt in his room

several times before.

But it does mark an improvement

in his behavior, Colin.

Back in Zimbabwe, he used to set fire to buildings.

Well, there goes Pete's last pot noodle.

- Hi, Trish. - Hi, Pete.

Listen, I'm sorry about all the kissing the other night.

It was just really the only way I could Giles down gently.

That's OK. Don't worry about it.

It's just, if I piss him off, I could set

my career back 18 to 22 months.

Hey listen, if it's about your career,

then you can count on me.

Sorry, he looked important.

He's the postman.

Yeah, but we can't be too careful, can we?

Well, he's enjoying this.

You know what, Terry?

I think he's falling in love with her.

Ooh La La.

This is it, "Sick as a Parrot."

Wow.

It's amazing.

Oh, Tony, come on over.

Foosball.

Giles?

Yeah, Tony the editor, this is Pete Griffiths.

It's a real pleasure to meet you.

I'm a massive fan of the magazine,

never actually bought it.

But I really enjoy flicking through it in the shops.

Pete's your new staff writer.

For here?

- Yeah. - Bloody hell, Giles.

I'm the editor.

I hire my own staff.

- Maybe I should go. - No, no, no, no.

It's fine.

There's no need to be like that, Tony.

I think Pete's an exceptional young man.

We don't even need another writer.

You're always doing this.

It completely undermines my authority.

Yes, well, I hear what you're saying, Tony.

But I had to follow my gut.

It makes me look so weak, so ineffectual

in front of my own staff.

Yes, I... I'm so sorry.

Look, I've done it now.

So, um, golly, what are we going to do?

Tell them there isn't a job.

No, I'm not going to do that.

Um, well, the only thing I can think

is that you just live with it.

What do you think, Tony?

Oh, bloody hell, Giles.

Well, looks like I'm stuck with you.

So have I got the job?

It's brilliant.

So coming up to lunchtime and Pete,

not entirely comfortable in an office environment

and struggling with his first assignment, a 2000 word article

on any aspect of football.

Yeah, it's always hard when you're given

a general topic like that.

You've got no starting point.

I mean, I have the same problem with my column in "The Sun."

Isn't that written for you?

Yeah, but they tell me it's very tricky.

And not even Pete's lucky Gazza able to help.

And he had that in his pocket

the night he lost his virginity.

And ever since, regarded it as a lucky charm.

Although when the girl found out he carried a plastic Gazza,

she dumped him.

Ooh, unlucky.

A lot of my colleagues have been saying

you're like a farmer in a suit.

But I think you look quite smart.

I just thought that was what you wore

if you worked in an office.

Yeah, like 30 years ago.

Tell you what, buy me a drink.

I'll tell you what decade it is.

I'm Jane by the way.

I'm Pete.

Yeah, we all know you, Mr. Miami Vice.

Anyway, about this drink.

Oh, no.

I'm so... I can't tonight because I'm going out with my mates.

Well, some other time then.

Oh, that couldn't have been more on a plate

if it was garnished with tomato sauce.

But he's only got eyes for one girl

at the moment. And here she comes.

And look at that.

He's got her dressed as Russian tennis ace, Maria Sharapova.

Aye, Maria's a belter, isn't she?

Lasses as fit as her, Colin, should be paid just as much

as the fellas.

Um, they all should be,

Terry, regardless of physical appearance.

Oh, well that's not going to happen.

Is it, Colin?

I mean, I could beat half of them.

Ha, stop it, Terry.

Hi, Pete.

Hello, Trish.

I just got a text from Ollie and he says that he

might be a bit late for lunch. - Oh.

Hello, Trish.

Hmm, who's this?

Valerie, hi.

This is my new boyfriend.

Oh, Trish told me you were mixed race.

Oh dear, now they haven't thought of this.

Have they, Terry.

No, Trish obviously described Ollie.

Ollie, there he is, handsome chap.

Yeah, he's not my cup of tea but cutting it to the ladies.

That's because...

I am mixed race.

And I'm proud of it.

Well, you don't look mixed race.

Well, I've got curly hair.

And some of us come out paler than others.

So...

OK, I'll see you later then, Trish.

Bye.

Mixed race?

God, of course.

Stupid, Giles.

How did I miss that?

Well, look I... I hope I haven't said anything

to offend you in any way.

No, no, not at all.

OK, well if I do, you must pick me up on it straight away.

I... I don't get caught up with all that PC nonsense.

All right?

Oh, cheers, Pete, much appreciated.

And actually, I'm glad to have caught the two of you.

I've got some news.

Trish, I'm making you deputy editor.

Oh, you're kidding.

Oh, that's fantastic.

That's fantastic.

I'm just so pleased I got my hooks into her in time, eh?

Well, let me take you out to lunch

and tell you all about it.

We're not doing anything, are we?

No, actually, because we... We were supposed to be meeting

our friend Ollie for lunch.

Oh, well that doesn't matter.

I can text him later.

Where should we go?

Well, let's push the boat out.

How about my club?

Yeah,.

Well, that was quite a lunch, 2 1/2 hours.

But why is Pete so much squiffer than the other two?

Simple, Colin.

He drank more.

Woof, reminiscent of the great George Best.

Hats off to Pete.

Thank you.

Now look, and no going back to the office, straight home.

And here's some money for a cab.

Oh.

Oh, brilliant.

Well done again, Trish.

Do you know you can spend your whole life

looking for the one and you two have found each other already.

I found the one.

But I tossed her aside like an old kabab

wrapper for a bit of fanny at the Premier in Gatwick.

Well, we won't make that mistake.

You better not or you'll be wearing

your testicles as earrings.

That doesn't sound very hygenic.

Well, this is the first time

Pete's been in a taxi while the tube's still running.

What a day.

Yeah.

I just hope the fact that you had

to spend lunch with me instead of Ollie

didn't ruin it for you too much.

What?

No.

No, I think this has been one of the best days of my life.

Really?

Yeah, I feel like this could be the start

of something really big.

Oh, that's exactly how I feel.

Look, I've always really fancied you.

And I could sort of tell by the way

that you were kissing me back there

that you felt the same too.

But it's just so great to hear you say it.

Look, we both really like Ollie.

He's a really great guy.

It's a nightmare situation.

But are we really going to ignore

the fact that we're in love?

Pete,...

I was just...

...I was talking about my promotion.

No, but I was... so was I.

Well, if he had any dignity,

he'd get out of that cab right now.

Well, it'll take more than that to get

him out of a free taxi.

Ha.

Well, Pete's just had a rather frosty and silent walk

to work with Trish, who's fuming about the events of Friday.

Ah, I think she's making a bit much of it.

I mean, back in my day, your mate's girlfriend

would be offended if you didn't make a pass at her.

Well, not strictly true, Terry.

Didn't Stan wife have a restraining order put on

you?

Eh, that was just a flirty.

Trish, I am really sorry about the other day.

It was the booze. - Bollocks.

I've seen the way you moon around me.

Well, you're very pretty.

Oh please, you've fallen in love with me.

But I'm not anymore.

Did you honestly think that the pasty faced

loser with the social skills of a masturbating chimp

would ever stand a chance with a girl like me?

Why'd you say masturbating chimp?

From now on, I don't want you even

speaking to me outside word.

Yeah, all right.

Well, why don't we like, engineer

some sort of a breakup?

No.

No.

God knows why, but for some reason,

Giles thinks we have something magical.

Oh, shit.

Oh, I'd love to go to Paris.

Valerie, hi.

Oh, looks like Valerie's had her wart lasered.

Nice job.

Right.

Just so we're crystal clear, I don't give a fuck

about you or your feelings.

My only interest in you is how much you can help my career.

Well, you're never going to get

a husband with that attitude.

Well, as it turns out,

Trish, not so much Maria Sharapova,

more her fellow countrymen, Russian

Prime Minister, Vladimir Putin.

Well, Pete, looking a bit down in the dumps.

But let's not forget, he did think that he

was in love with that girl.

And the icing on the cake, someone's

nicked his lucky Gazza.

Hello, Peter. It's your dad.

Oh, hello.

Me and your mom have come uptown to see

the new Steven Soderbergh film.

But your moms had a quick look at the synopsis and gone cold

on the idea.

So we're off to see a romcom.

Long story short, we've got an hour to kill.

We thought we might pop in and see you.

Oh.

Pete, a word now.

Just to sec.

Well, ask him if he wants a sandwich.

Now.

Look, I've got to go.

All right?

Gotta go.

Oh.

This article of yours, is this some kind of joke?

Oh, don't you like it?

England footballers, too thick to take a penalties.

Well, yeah. I mean, it's true.

I mean, look at the Germans.

They are much better educated.

They never miss a penalty.

At least got 14,

smash up gardens.

Thinks it the 1970s.

Apart from being nonsense, it doesn't

fit the ethos of a magazine.

The ethos?

Yes, you must have noticed that I've stamped

my personality on the magazine.

Oh yeah.

No, the ethos.

No, I'm sorry, Pete.

And this is one of the hardest parts of being an editor.

And I'm in charge of seven people here.

But I'm afraid I don't think this is going to work out.

Well, hang on, Tony.

Oh, there he is, our new star writer.

Have you read this?

Only three times.

I love it.

But it doesn't make sense.

It's dangerous journalism at its very best.

Yeah.

And even if it was right, it just doesn't

fit the ethos of a magazine.

Ethos?

Yes, we talked about this.

You must remember.

Oh yes, I do.

But leaving all that to one side,

Pete is daring to say what everybody thinks.

England's footballers are as thick as pig shit.

No, this guy is getting his own column.

Pete Griffiths, the journalist with backbone.

Giles, I will have to consider my position

very seriously indeed if you insist on doing this.

Really no need for that, Tony.

Let's just give Pete's column a go on a trial basis.

Now how would you develop it?

What would your next piece be?

Why Scotland is shit.

And what's your theory.

Well, Scotland, they used to be good.

And now, they are shit.

Well, that's not even a theory.

That's just saying the same thing again.

I love it.

Then you can move on to Wales, and Northern Ireland,

and so on. - Yeah, exactly.

Right up to Brazil.

No, because Brazil are quite good, aren't they?

Are they really?

Mm hmm.

Oh, good for them.

OK Tony, let's make this happen.

Off you go then.

Chop, chop.

Hey.

How about, Pete Griffiths, mixed race journalist with backbone.

- Will there be a picture? - Yes, of course.

Oh, no.

I think maybe just Pete Griffiths,

journalist with backbone. - Yeah.

Yeah, quite right.

They'll want to exploit your ethnicity.

Look, I can't really stay long.

I'm sure, busy man.

I brought you a sandwich, coronation chicken.

Oh, thanks very much.

Well, your magazine must be doing really well

to have a reception like this.

Well, they are lots of different magazines

in the building, weren't there, Peter?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Right, so I should probably...

Oh, well yeah.

We... we just wanted to say hello, really.

Yeah, all right.

And also we wanted to say we're proud of you.

And I um, in particular, haven't always

been 100% behind this sports writing thing.

But I want you to know you've done well, son.

Oh, thank you.

Well, it's really nice of you to come by.

No problem, son.

You keep up the good work.

- I will. - Pete.

Oh, Giles.

- Who's this? - Oh.

Oh, this is my mom and dad.

Mom and dad, this is Giles, my boss.

Oh, not giving you too much trouble, I hope.

Oh, no, no, no.

He's a great lad.

I take it he's told you about his column?

Column?

Oh, you didn't mention it?

Oh yeah, he's been here less than a week,

already got his own column.

Pete Griffiths, the journalist with backbone.

Wow.

And modest.

I can't believe you didn't tell them.

Well, you've obviously done a fantastic

job of bringing him up.

Well, you can only do your best.

How old was Pete when you adopted him?

No.

No, Pete's not adopted.

Oh, I'm sorry. I... well, I just assumed that...

Well, Pete said he was mixed race.

I... - Uh.

Peter?

Oh, mum's my real mum.

But he's not my real dad because my real dad, mum's

first husband was a black man.

And... and he run off when I was two, was it, mum.

So mum, bless her, she brought me

up the first couple of years.

And then she met him at a... Was it dance, wasn't it?

Oh yeah, it was a dance...

And it wasn't love at first sight or anything.

But they made it work.

And fair play to dad for stepping into the breach.

Well, I say dad, I mean, Frank, really.

Thanks, Frank.

You ungrateful little shit.

Oh, he gets very sensitive about the whole thing actually,

Giles.

It's a shame you had to bring it up really.

Mom gets very peckish mid-morning.

I'm so sorry.

Giles, you insensitive oaf, you've done it again.

All right, it's...

It's all right.

Some fancy footwork there from Pete.

But at what personal cost?

Oh, it looks like he's about to take

his laundry elsewhere for the next couple of weeks ago, Col.

Pete there, spurning the computer,

in favor of the pencil.

And that's Jane, the attractive mink,

who showed a bit of interest in him last week.

Get in there,.

- Hi, Jane. - Hiya.

What are you doing?

What does it look like I'm doing?

Nicking stationary.

Do you want a stapler?

Yeah.

You know the other day, when you,

uh, you... you were saying about going out for a drink,

well I was...

I was wondering if maybe you'd fancy one now?

Oh, do you now?

Uh, yeah.

Oh well, don't know.

That was then.

This is now.

Maybe my lass doesn't like being messed about.

Maybe I've mentally moved on.

Oh well.

Well, I'll see you tomorrow then.

But... oy.

Come back.

Get your coat.

You've pulled.

Ding Dong.

Merrily on high.

He's not going to forget that one in a hurry.

He's as keen as mustard.

And if we take a look at the road to get here,

we can see why.

There was a very knowledgeable discussion about football

on the way to the pub.

It was her love of quality lager plus the fact,

she's very funny.

And more to the point, thinks he's funny.

Not always the case with Pete's young ladies.

And the clincher was the films of the Coen brothers, Colin.

Pete's finally found somebody who

hates them as much as he does.

And the rest is history.

Well, a magical moment there.

This room is amazing.

It's like a boy's room.

You've got your flat screen TV, Skyplus, football posters,

but it's tidy.

Nevermind all that.

Halftime's over.

Oh, my word.

That's his lucky Gazza.

She's not shy about nicking stuff,

as that stationary cupboard knows only too well.

- Mm, where'd you get that from? - What, Gazza?

Mm hmm.

I've had him since I was a kid.

Come on, Pete, don't blow it.

Yeah, he's got to get his priorities right here.

I mean, basically, he's risking a fantastic

relationship with a lovely lass against a plastic Gazza.

Think. Use your loaf.

So it's not a recent acquisition then?

No, my dad gave me, when I was 10.

Why?

Oh, no reason.

It's just nice not to see him in a mental hospital.

Good lad.

But you've only been going out with her two weeks.

You can't move in with her.

Yeah, well when it's right, it's right.

I really feel like she could be the one, Kurt.

Yeah, but you hardly know her.

For all you know, she could be a serial killer.

Yeah, well, she's not is she?

And anyway, she's had plenty of chances to kill

me already and she hasn't.

So...

Oh, OK.

Well, I'm going to be pretty lonely and bored.

And my men's support group isn't meeting at the moment.

Men's support group?

Yeah, well, we just get together,

you know, talk, hung out.

What do you want to do that for?

There's very few forums these days where a man can talk

sensitively about his feelings and perhaps even

cry, without fear of judgment.

But unfortunately, the chap who runs it's

been done for kiddie fiddling.

I think we should break up because I...

I've just met this really fantastic girl.

And, um, she wants me to move in with her.

But to be honest, pretending to go out with you,

it's really cramping my style.

No. No.

No one's breaking up with anyone.

Do you think you got your column because of your writing?

Well, how many other journalists have noticed

that footballers are thick?

You got it because we are the golden couple.

And we're going to stay the golden couple.

Are we clear?

Oh, she's a witch.

She reminds me of Suzanne... me second wife...

When she wouldn't divorce me.

Yes, although this is a pretend relationship,

whereas, your second marriage was very much real

and ended up with Suzanne in hospital

under sedation for six months.

Well, yeah.

But as soon as she got the house,

she was out swimming with dolphins.

Yeah, I think that was part of the therapy, Terry.

Well, if Trish won't dump him, he's going

to have to tell Jane about her.

And yeah, I believe that's happening right

now in the photocopying room.

Photocopying room, eh?

You don't mess about, do ya?

No, no, no. No.

Look, I've got something to say.

All right?

What the bloody hell are you doing?

Nothing.

You've got a girlfriend for God's sake.

You've got a what?

Trish, downstairs.

She worships the ground he walks on.

I don't go out with Trish anymore.

All right.

It was... it was all over before I met you.

No. No.

You are still going out with her but you

want a bit of slap and tickle on the side, just like I did.

When were you going to take her to the Gatwick

Premier. - No, she's got her own place.

You've let me down.

It's all happening again.

I don't go out with Trish.

Right, let's go downstairs and see what Trish has to say.

- Oh. - Chop, chop.

Giles, Pete.

You still going out with Pete?

Yes, very much so.

No, we broke up days ago. Do you remember?

No, we didn't.

We're still very much in love. - You bastard.

No, she's in denial.

She's extremely clingy.

I found him snogging her in the photocopying room.

Peter, how could you?

We've broken up.

No, we haven't.

It's OK. I forgive you.

No, no, Trish.

There's no need for that.

This guy has let us all down.

Now Trish, I've tried to be nice.

But the fact is, I find you physically repulsive.

Well, that doesn't matter.

It's what's on the inside that counts.

Can't you get it through your thick skull, you stupid bitch.

It's over.

I'm sorry, Pete.

But I won't accept that.

I've had enough. You're welcome to the bastard.

No, Jane.

Just wait... just wait there.

Just wait there a second, please.

All right? Just listen to me.

The whole thing about going out with Trish, it was made up.

And I was just about to tell you but Giles came in.

What do you take me for?

Oh, come on.

You've got to give me another chance.

I gave you a chance when you, uh, stole my lucky Gazza.

You think I nicked that from you?

Yeah, of course you bloody did.

But I don't mind.

You twat.

And to think you were going to move in with me.

Well, I still can, can't I?

Well, where am I going to go?

I've given notice on my room.

All right then, Trish, I suppose we are still going out.

Trish, if you take this cockroach back,

my respect for you will go through the floor,

and you will have to start looking for another job.

Pete, you're dumped.

You're not only dumped, you're sacked.

And I don't care what the race relations people say.

Well, now what about my column?

I'm the journalist with the backbone.

I want you and your backbone out of this building

in 20 minutes.

Sorry.

And Trish, like a rat leaving a sinking ship,

scrambles aboard the full-funneled luxury

liner, that is Giles.

She's like a Somali pirate in a skirt.

Oh, and there's Pete's lucky Gazza.

Now Tony's lucky Gazza.

I must say, Gazza didn't bring Pete much luck tonight.

Yeah, well he didn't have it half the time, did he?

Mate I'm really sorry that it didn't

work out with you and Trish.

No, she's not down with my mate.

She's not down with me.

She dumped me for Giles, didn't she?

- Yeah. - All right.

Bedtime, Pete.

Ollie, afraid you have to go.

What were you talking about?

It's only 10 o'clock.

Yeah, a bit like tonight.

Catch ya later, Kurt.

- Catch ya later, Pete. - See you, mate.

Oh, you have to excuse me.

Sometimes I scream out in the middle of the night.

So time to say goodbye,

as Pete gets ready to bed down on a thin inflatable mattress.

His room of course, not available

for another four weeks.

So your highlights, Terry.

Oh, I think it's got to be where

Pete denied his own father.

Ungrateful little shit.

Yes, certainly not his finest hour.

The goats, they're coming for me.

Well, thank you for your thoughts and observations,

as always, Terry.

Join us again next time, when once again, Pete takes on life.