Original subtitles

Richard Meadows, found at Wembley Stadium in his pyjamas.

Maybe he sleepwalks.

Some walk.

He resides in Birmingham, now that's a hundred and...

...thirteen miles away.

So he went to bed in Birmingham,

and woke up in Wembley.

He's deranged. A complete mental wreck.

What does he do?

He runs English Earthenware, now that's one of our top dollar earners,

but it won't run without him.

That could be the trouble.

The pressures of big business, he wouldn't be the first.

How right you are, Mrs. Peel, he isn't the first.

John Tyler, found on top of a mountain.

In his pyjamas?

And dressing gown.

David Wallace, found on a raft in the English Channel.

In his bathing suit.

Dinner jacket and cummerbund.

It's the same old pattern.

His name is Fox. Went berserk in a gymnasium.

Scared out of his wits. - By what?

A mouse. - A mouse?

Been known to stampede a herd of elephants.

Martin Fox, director of Fox, White and Crawley.

They make bone china.

Meadows ran English Earthenware.

Right. - And Tyler's company produces...

...pottery. - And Wallace?

The same line, ceramics. - It is the same old pattern.

Almost.

They ran one man concerns. But Fox has two fellow directors.

Mr. White, and... - Mr. Crawley.

Yes?

I'm Crawley. Fox, White and Crawley.

Bone china. - How do you do?

Your name is...

Steed. John Steed, C.P.C..

Central Productivity Council.

Oh, I'm sorry to have kept you.

Some darn chap dropped in, from some market research firm,

asking a lot of pointless questions, upset the entire morning.

I'll be brief, Mr. Crawley.

If we are to compete in world markets,

we must reduce wastage, eliminate bottlenecks, increase productivity.

The Prime Minister agrees with me.

Now, if you have any problems...

Yeah, we've got a problem all right.

We just lost one of our directors.

Fox. - Managerial dispute?

Sudden breakdown.

Extraordinary, no indication. Yesterday he was as right as rain.

Will it affect production?

Of course.

Fox was the expert in fine glazing, very difficult to replace.

Excuse me, Mr. Steed, my secretary.

Yes? - Your car has arrived, Mr. Crawley.

I'll be right down.

You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Steed.

I have an urgent appointment, I must find a replacement for Fox.

Oh, White. Mr. Steed, Central Productivity Council.

You're late. I wanted to go through these figures.

I was held up, some chap from market research.

Ah, you too.

I couldn't see him, so he left a questionnaire.

There's been some trouble at the kiln. - What's wrong?

I wouldn't know. That was Fox's territory, it needs an expert's eye.

Let's hope we can find one.

Oh, thank you.

Williams.

Williams!

Williams!

Williams!

What are you doing?

You know my limit's forty five!

Williams!

Williams! Slow down!

Williams! Stop! Stop!

Williams!

Williams, you know I can't... Stop!

Williams!

Mrs. Peel?

Found something?

Magnificent, isn't it? Aluminium, eight cylinder, twin exhaust.

Seven thousand cc's, nine to one compression ratio.

Two hundred and twenty miles an hour at least, wouldn't you say?

Hm, I would, judging by those skid marks.

Really?

Well, they run for at least eighty yards. Take a look.

Steed?

Steed? - In here, Mrs. Peel.

Ah.

X marks the spot.

Crawley?

Found right here, shattered, broken and witless.

Indian or China?

Coffee.

Coffee it is.

Well, with Fox, Meadows and Crawley gone,

that leaves Mr. White. One lump or two?

Hm?

A clue? - An offer.

From somebody called Jeremy Raven.

Well, an offer of what?

Rising costs would suggest a merger of the following companies:

A merger. - Of which companies?

Those controlled by Richard Meadows...

Oh, he was the one found in a football stadium.

John Tyler...

On top of a mountain.

David Wallace...

On a raft in the middle of the channel.

and Fox, White and Crawley.

Let me... a moment.

I await your reply with interest, Jeremy Raven, Director, British Porcelain.

Jeremy Raven?

It would be very interesting to discover just what Crawley's reply was.

Well, it's probably in the files,

of Fox, White and Crawley.

You're lucky to find me. Two of my colleagues have been taken ill.

Now, what did I do with the questionnaire?

I've seen it somewhere.

Ah yes, here we are.

I hope that's all right.

You haven't completed section twelve.

Oh, haven't I?

Oh yes, I see.

"Do you dislike animals?"

That's an odd question.

Well, I don't dislike them all, but I do have an aversion to...

Oh blast, my pen has run out of ink.

Try mine.

Thank you.

Now, these questions on my childhood, are they relevant?

Well, if they weren't they wouldn't be there.

All right.

You marketing research people certainly probe, don't you?

Did you here something?

No?

I'll just check.

White's questionnaire, duly completed.

Thank you, Gilbert.

As president of the Business Efficiency Bureau, I abhor complacency.

But a well chosen compliment stimulates enthusiasm.

Congratulations, Dr. Voss.

Your diagnosis of Crawley was excellent.

I received an excellent remuneration, Mr. Pemberton.

You too, Gilbert, for dispatching Crawley with such speed.

I enjoyed the drive.

I gather he didn't. - A trifle carsick.

Into the dead file.

Now, to our Mr... - White, he's a junior director of...

Fox, White and Crawley.

Your conclusions, Gilbert?

Oh, a very unstable character.

Ideal for our purposes.

As you can see, his father was an ornithologist.

I see.

Doctor?

White looks most promising.

Infantile hand, aggressive personality...

and these replies indicate a very definite panic area.

Then confirm it at once.

I want White disposed of immediately.

Did you find out nothing?

Nothing in the files of Fox, White and Crawley, not even the courtesy of a reply.

Well, that won't please Raven, he wanted to set up a monopoly.

I should think it positively displeased him.

Well, I must go and don a new disguise, and you keep an eye on White.

And you cast an eye over Raven.

I intend to.

Ah, lesser-billed, white-throated, crimson night hawk.

Charming, quite charming.

Not quite charming enough, Mr. Steed.

I can't stand the slightest flaw.

Majolica, alkaline glaze.

Exquisite. - But I aim at unparalleled excellence.

Well, Mr. Raven, I...

Jeremy, please call me. - Well, Jeremy, I...

Since I took over, I personally inspect every piece.

May I say that you're extremely young to run a place of this size.

Youth at the helm, and all that.

Oh, I don't deny I inherited a great tradition.

Also some pretty archaic methods.

But we'll soon change all that, oh yes indeed.

You know my motto? - Do tell.

Creation by automation. A classic piece in every home.

Here.

Now then, you name it, I'll make it.

Grecian urn, Corinthian vase, Minoan jar...

Or would you prefer Chinese?

Florentine?

Persian.

Very well, stand clear.

Still in the experimental stage.

Now before long we shall cover the entire field of ceramics,

and capture world markets.

Which brings me to the point of my visit.

Now if you would, Mr. Raven uh, Jeremy?

Monopolies Commission? - I'm just a minor official.

Well, you're certainly monopolizing my time, Mr. Steed.

Oh, well, please carry on.

It's about this letter you sent, suggesting the formation of United Ceramics.

Oh, a darn good idea, don't you think?

To pool knowledge, reduce overheads, cut costs, and what's the result?

You've cornered the market.

Ah, true, true, but, but...

the customer gets the best at the cheapest prices.

Oh, excuse me.

Well, you've had a wasted journey, Mr. Steed.

My offer was rejected by one and all.

Oh?

Yes. Dunderheads.

No more foresight than that darn thing.

It's very decorative.

You say everyone turned down your offer to merge?

They did indeed. - Fox, White and Crawley?

Unanimously.

Excuse me.

Yes, old diehards.

They said modernization would ruin craftsmanship.

Well, has it, I ask you?

Has it?

I agree.

No, Mr. Steed!

That's perfection.

Persian?

As I said, in the experimental stage.

Well, your sales are certainly rocketing.

Our new promotion techniques.

Only way to survive.

Otherwise you'll soon fall by the wayside.

A few of your competitors already have.

Well, it's a highly competitive business.

Show the slightest weakness, and you crack.

So, it's a simple matter of elimination.

Elimination?

To coin a phrase.

The secret is to survive, Mr. Steed.

You seem to have found it, Jeremy.

Indeed I have.

Well?

We have the key to White's destruction.

A feather, a solitary feather.

An empty birdcage, and one Mr. White, extremely dead.

He fell out of the window?

Through it, actually.

Fell, pushed or jumped.

Or maybe he suffered from a delusion.

Maybe he thought he was a bird.

Looked up, preened himself, flapped his arms, and...

Maybe he was migrating south.

Well, that's one feather we can't put in our caps.

Somebody else was there.

Eh?

In Mr. White's office.

Somebody tipped a display cabinet on me.

Half a ton of china came hurtling down.

Quite unnerving. - I can imagine how you felt.

How'd you get on with Jeremy Raven?

I'm not sure, he seemed genuine enough.

Seemed?

Well, the proof is in the pushing.

I've got to get him off balance, agitated.

I think I'm going to start putting some pressure on Mr. Raven.

I'm a patient sort of chap, Steed, but one more question and I shall...

throw you out.

You mean you'll try to throw me out.

Now look, if I've bagged most of the market, it's merely the fruits of enterprise.

They seem to have ripened rather quickly.

Well, you know what they say, "fresh soil brings an early harvest".

I've given the old firm a facelift, that's all.

Oh, I see we're still sceptical. Very well...

Unhand me! Whew...

Well, I have a license for it. I was after that brochure.

If you don't mind, I'll go after it.

I saw their ad, and called them in. Efficiency is hardly a crime.

Depends how it's applied.

Well, you know the sort of thing they do.

Study the market, study competitors, examine statistics...

I've been doing a little of that too.

Out of your seven main competitors,

six have been driven out of their minds,

and the seventh fell through a plate glass window.

No, I don't...

Eliminate your competitors, didn't you say?

You've certainly done that, Jeremy.

But if one of those six men recovers, maybe we'll learn just how.

And then...

Ah, Mr. Raven, your phone call was somewhat irate, what's troubling you?

Do I need to tell you?

No conundrums, please.

Do be seated, Mr. Raven.

I'd better come straight to the point.

Would you? A direct approach is the essence of good management.

Well, Mr. Raven, you have our undivided attention.

Look, I engaged you to study the market, and improve the firm's efficiency.

Well, from your sales figures I'd say we succeeded admirably.

Your profits have soared.

It's not the profits I'm here about!

Please sit down, Mr. Raven.

It's your methods. - Our methods?

Oh, you know what I mean.

I've been to the hospital, I've seen Fox and the others.

But we were merely carrying out your instructions, Mr. Raven.

What? I never asked you to...

Didn't you? That's a short memory you have.

Great handicap for a young executive.

You haven't forgotten our first interview, surely?

"You wish to employ us to what end, Mr. Raven?"

"To increase my share of the market, to eliminate the competition."

"You're very ruthless, Mr. Raven."

"Well, one has to be."

"You have a free hand, I leave it to you."

"Clam them all up if you have to."

But I didn't mean that literally.

How did you mean it?

You wanted your competitors eliminated.

We've carried out your instructions.

And now we trust you will honour your part of the bargain.

Your cheque?

Most gratifying.

It's the last you'll get.

We will see you as usual on the first.

Oh, and should you consider criticizing our methods any further,

how would you explain this?

We have the assurance of your continued patronage?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Good.

Well, you know your way out, Mr. Raven.

He lied to the last question.

Give me Raven's file.

"This is John Steed." - Mr. Steed...

"Your call is being answered by a recording device."

Kindly dictate your message in three seconds from now.

This is Jeremy Raven.

I must see you, Steed.

I'm at the factory. Can you call? It's very urgent.

It's bad.

I did warn you about Raven.

Ruthless in business, but has a strong moral sense.

He'll talk, I promise you.

Pity.

Time we stopped trading with our Mr. Raven.

His questionnaire?

Already programmed.

And...

The Business Efficiency Bureau.

Offering a unique means of building your business up by knocking your opponents down.

Bring science and psychology into the battle for bigger and better profits.

Steed, what are you doing?

What am I doing?

Practising my high powered tycoon look.

Now, Crawley filled in a questionnaire all right?

Right.

Crawley is now... and then White, and then Raven.

And before that: Tyler, Wallace, Meadows and Fox.

Right? - Right

The conclusion is obvious. - The B.E.B is involved.

Right? - Right.

And they only deal with the best business people.

And I, Mrs. Peel, am the best business people.

And what time is your first appointment, sir?

Eleven o'clock, with Mr. Pemberton of the B.E.B.

Right?

All right.

Right on the dot. I like that.

Punctuality is the prime rule of efficiency.

Be seated, Mr. Steed.

Your business, Mr. Steed?

Travel. I run a group of agencies.

Your first turnover?

The hundred thousand mark.

But there's room for expansion.

I'm sure.

But you feel cramped by competition.

No, thank you. Stifled.

Then we must revive your markets.

Allow you to breathe more freely.

But, how?

Like any game, by exploiting the weaknesses of your opponents.

That's... a thought.

More than a thought, Mr. Steed.

It's a reality.

Besides my own extensive experience,

you'll be buying the services of two brilliant psychologists,

Mr. Gilbert... - How do you do?

and Dr. Voss. How do you do?

With modern psychiatric techniques, we study your competitors,

probe their entire histories,

pinpoint their deficiencies,

their defects,

their flaws.

and then... - pierce the chink in their armour.

Nicely put, Mr. Steed.

And the cost of this service?

Fifty percent of your increased profit.

Modest, I think you'll agree.

I agree.

We'll need a list of your competitors.

Well, there's only one in the area that I operate.

The name? - Mrs. Peel. Mrs. Emma Peel.

Raven's improving?

He has moments of sanity, but you better hurry, they don't last very long.

Our methods will delight you, Mr. Steed.

It's results I want. - They're guaranteed.

What's wrong?

He lied to every question.

Follow him.

Talk to Raven?

I tried, another relapse.

How did you fare at the Bureau?

They took me on.

But they seemed more interested in my competitors, so I produced one.

Who?

You.

We're in the travel business.

I provide luxurious igloos in Iceland.

Complete with a deep freeze.

Bearskin rugs.

And hot and cold running Eskimos.

Why now, that's quite an idea.

And where do I operate?

From your flat.

Very convenient.

But if you want my opinion... - I love it.

But we have to observe the priorities.

Pemberton? Steed's at the hospital.

I don't like it.

Voss was right.

Deal with him.

Raven?

What happened last night?

You called me, why?

Take it away! Please, please, please!

No, no, no!

A spider? - Raven went berserk when he saw it.

Arachnophobia, so that's the trouble.

Eh?

A dread of spiders.

There are hundreds of repressed fears and phobias,

but without a complete history, difficult to diagnose.

Even the patient might be unaware of it.

There's a fear of mice, isn't there?

Pretty common. - And speed?

I've known cases.

And the more usual, like being shut in - claustrophobia.

Fear of open spaces - acrophobia.

With a fear like that, how would a man react if he woke up in a vast open space,

say Wembley Stadium?

It'd be like removing a foundation, he'd crack, disintegrate.

I rang for Gilbert. - He hasn't reported back.

He's always punctual.

I'm well acquainted with Gilbert's virtues.

This woman Steed mentioned - Mrs. Peel.

She may supply the answer.

What a strange set of questions for market research.

They're extremely revealing, I assure you.

I was sure I'd be asked what kind of detergent I used.

Yeah, I think that's it.

Any more questions?

Just one. - Yes?

You won't be troublesome, will you?

So, trouble is your business, Mrs. Peel.

Well, it's so broadening.

And your main competitor is John Steed.

I have no competitors.

But you and Steed are in the same line of business.

I suppose you could say that.

But it has nothing to do with travel, has it?

Are you asking me or telling me?

I am showing you.

That chair is an advanced form of lie detector.

Records the slightest variations in pulse, respiration, blood pressure, and...

I know, it goes around and around,

and it all comes out there.

We are not playing, Mrs. Peel, the stakes are too high.

Now, how much does Steed know?

Well, I'd say he had a pretty high I.Q..

Questionnaire.

Hm, some interesting answers.

Eight out of ten?

Eight and a half?

Nine!

I'd grade you higher than that, Mrs. Peel, much higher.

But we don't tout for accuracy.

What we sell are hidden truths.

Our territory is the mind.

And our merchandise is fear.

The inner fabric of us all, Mrs. Peel.

The dark balloon we try to hide.

Break it and...

Well, you'll see.

What's this?

What it says, she has a high fear index.

We'll need to probe further.

There isn't time.

You're extremely well adjusted, Mrs. Peel.

And just look where it's got me.

Remarkable, a woman without fear.

Oh, I have my fears. Don't you?

But I have learned to live with them.

All of them, Mrs. Peel?

The universal fear.

The ultimate in horror.

Pain, Mrs. Peel.

Pain.

Pemberton.

Forever an open house.

I rarely see clients without an appointment.

But you are privileged, Mr. Steed.

So I see.

Over there.

And...

You see, Mrs. Peel, fear of death makes a man obey.

His very presence here demonstrates his fear for you.

And you, Pemberton, what about you?

The fear of discovery, perhaps.

That one would need no longer concern me.

Maybe you have another pet fear.

Let's have a guess, shall we?

Doctor, emergency lighting!

Also, afraid of the dark, eh?

Oh, no!

Can I offer you a light?

How very obliging of you, Mr. Steed.

Steed?

Steed!

No need to shout, Mrs. Peel.

Didn't think I'd get to you in time, did you?

The thought never entered my head.

Never. Mrs. Peel?

Never, Mr. Steed.

Don't move!

Ah.

Ah.

Completely safe.

Lights on.

Curtains drawn against the birds.

No spiders.

Not a mouse in sight.

You're not afraid of mice?

Chocolates.

You're not frightened of chocolates, surely?

They really are chocolates. - Naturally.

For services rendered.

Now, where do we keep the champagne?

I've run out.

Not a drop in the place.

What?

Now that really frightened you, didn't it?

Ahh...

subtitles: rick@peoplesguidetothecosmos.com