Original subtitles

Gus, some of these cutbacks are just ludicrous.

Why on earth have you got rid of our security contractors?

Because our new security contractors came in and undercut them by 40%.

Well, how on earth have they managed that?

The last lot were virtually paying us, weren't they?

You have checked out this new bunch, haven't you?

Helen, please, I'm a professional!

They came with impressive bona fides,

and the offer of significant savings.

Did we make a significant saving on your new desk?

That is not a desk, Helen!

That is a state-of-the-art workstation.

Michael heseltine's got one just like mine.

Only smaller.

At the same time, you're imposing less wages, longer hours...

Listen, Helen, this company has to be like my fish. See?

They're sleek, totally streamlined,

honed by the business plan of evolution.

They're all perfectly designed survival machines.

Well, except that one. Hmm?

The one doing the Robert Maxwell impersonation on the surface there.

Oh, for Pete's... that's my siamese fighting fish.

He's a siamese floating fish now.

�96, that cost.

�96!

You can get four secretaries and a security guard for that.

Come to uncle Gus.

Yes, we need some more for this profile of goldsmith.

Perhaps we could get a quote from...

Oh, you know him. He used to be a government minister.

Had to resign over that free holiday scandal.

You know him, he's very rich.

He's got shares in lots of arms firms.

You're gonna have to narrow it down more than this.

You know, he looks like a bulimic toad.

Both: David mellor.

David mellor.

Oh, dear. Can't seem to remember anything these days.

Sometimes I'm worried I'm going down with that awful...

You know, er... human bse.

Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. Yes!

Oh, no.

Fancy me forgetting the name of an irreversible brain disease.

Something is not right. I can feel it.

It could be bse.

Oh, George, honestly! Well, it could be.

The only meal that Margaret ever used to cook was mince.

And sometimes she wouldn't even bother to cook it.

Have you seen these proposed contracts?

Longer hours, less dosh.

I tell you, I'm out of here

as soon as I've cleared my debt with barclaycard and access.

And ladbrokes. And coral's.

And no-nose Charlie.

If it wasn't for Chloe's school fees, I'd walk.

Yes, me, too.

As soon as I've finished paying

for those 15th century plague pits beneath my house to be infilled,

I'll be changing jobs!

Oh, listen to you lot!

None of you have got the balls to quit, and Gus knows that.

Well, he's wrong.

And you're wrong. Eh?

I've got an interview at the BBC first thing Wednesday.

I'm not waiting around

until Gus replaces us with eight-year-old Romanians,

I'm out of here.

George has very kindly given me a reference.

Yes, I said that joy was a popular, constructive,

and positive member of the team.

Well, why did you put that?

Because she told me to.

You'll never believe what's just happened to me!

One of those new security guards has just asked me for my pass.

Well, old Albert never used to ask me for my pass.

He just used to smile at me.

He smiled at everyone, woman. He was retarded!

Have you seen the terms that Gus is offering the technicians?

I mean, the trouble is, he's got them over a barrel

with all this new technology.

Yes, there's no doubt about it, the machines are taking over.

All right, all right, no need to boast.

Well, at least Gus had the good sense

not to touch the newsreaders' wages, eh, Henry?

After all, you do have a certain lifestyle to support.

Shoes by church's.

Jackets by Simpsons.

Hair by axminster.

Oh, come on, Henry, lighten up!

The whole office knows it's a syrup.

Yeah, pretending to go to the barber once a month doesn't fool anybody.

Look, why don't you just bin it, Henry?

I mean, I thought bald men were supposed to be sexy.

Name one.

Duncan goodhew!

Michael fish.

Oh, very funny!

The mekon from Dan dare.

Gerald Kaufman!

Shut it!

I think the tone of this item on the Cullen report

is emotive and simplistic.

You see, Helen, guns don't kill people,

people kill people.

Yeah, but guns save so much time.

I mean, for instance, supposing somebody wanted to kill me...

Supposing?!

They wouldn't need a gun.

He could beat me, or strangle me.

True. But the one thing that he couldn't do

is transform himself into a small metallic projectile

and then hurl himself at you at 800mph

so that he smashes through your skull

and splatters your brain all over the wall.

Stop it, you're turning me on.

And then there's the farmers. They need their guns for doing...

Well, whatever it is that farmers do with guns. Like...

Committing suicide?

If you're not prepared to have a sensible conversation...

Oh, my god!

We're looking for Gus hedges.

Yes. Actually, would you mind keeping your distance?

Only, I have a bit of a phobia about birds.

Apparently when I was a toddler,

I was dragged from my pushchair by a swan.

Nobody knows why.

It's best not to stare at them. They don't like eye-to-eye contact.

It's seen as a challenge.

It's a Harris hawk, isn't it? It's magnificent.

It certainly is.

What's it doing here?

It's an anti-verminous defecation deterrent.

It's to stop pigeons crapping on the building.

Correct.

And how much is this costing us?

Don't be so obsessed with cost. This creature is good value.

It'll keep our award-winning chrome and glass atrium

free from airborne number twos.

I did this report once on these tribesman.

They used these eagles to hunt. Huge things.

They just pluck lambs off the hillside.

I managed to get this amazing footage

of one coming down out of the sky like a thunderbolt,

straight towards my cameraman.

Who you had lent your sheepskin jacket to.

Yeah.

Finally enough, he'd got a phobia about birds as well.

At least, he has now.

Chop chop, everyone. We've all got fish to fry, and pigeons to kill.

Oh, incidentally, can I scotch this absurd rumour flying around

that I intend closing the canteen,

thus leaving staff with no catering facilities in the building?

This is quite unfounded. Good.

A microwave will be provided

to heat any food items staff may care to bring in.

Oh, thanks (!)

Will there be a tin opener as well?

Fair point, Helen. I'll look into it.

Joy, all we're saying

is if you really want to get this job at the beeb

then maybe you need to give a bit of thought to your...

My what?

Erm... well, it's just, you have a certain demeanour

which might possibly impair your interview technique.

Well, I interviewed for this job,

so my interview technique must have been all right then.

I'm afraid not.

George said he was just too scared to turn you down.

That was my technique.

Yeah, but you don't get jelloid people like George

working in management at the beeb.

Except at controller level.

You'll be interviewed by middle management.

I can handle them.

Listen, joy, you get away with murder here

because a, you're extremely efficient,

and b, this place is a madhouse.

Now, me and Dave, we wish we had the gumption to leave, but we don't.

But we can be your escape committee.

If you really want to get in at the beeb,

you need to learn to play the game.

All right. So, what I have to do?

Well, for a start, when you sit in front of the selection panel,

there's no use glaring at them.

I do not glare.

You do! Always!

When you look at people, you seem to be saying,

"I don't respect you, you're crap."

Well, that's because I work here!

You see! It's like you're programmed.

You always turn aggressive. Ugh. This isn't aggressive, Charlie.

I can show you aggressive!

All right, all right, into your corners. Sit.

Joy, you don't stand a chance if you don't learn to hide her personality.

It's all about dissembling, flattering the interviewer's vanity.

Now, Dave and I will give you an example

of the interested and attentive smile.

You know, it's amazing to think that this animal

is probably a descendant of carnivorous dinosaurs.

You know, the raptors, like the ones in Jurassic park.

I could only watch the first half of that film.

Had to leave when that chap got eaten alive on the toilet. Horrible.

No, it wasn't. He was a lawyer.

Do you want to stroke her, Sally?

No, I most certainly do not.

Well, perhaps if you did, it might help you overcome your phobia.

Actually, Sally, he's right. That's the way they treat phobics.

A controlled exposure to the object of the phobia.

Well, perhaps you're right.

I remember granny cured me of my phobia of trees

by repeatedly abandoning me in epping forest.

There you are! You can beat it.

Do you think so?

Oh, yes. We all have our little everests to conquer.

Is this ok?

Yeah, sure.

Perhaps if you win her confidence by feeding her?

All right, then.

What do you feed her with?

These dead newborn chicks.

Oh, excuse me!

He coughs

oh, hello there, Trevor.

I was just power napping.

What can I do for you?

You sent for me.

Hmm? Oh, yes, I remember now.

I wanted to talk through my fish situation.

How are your men settling in, by the way?

Oh, fine.

And Sally didn't call any of your operatives

impotent troglodytes today?

No. Good.

Well, if you could tell your men that whoever's on night shift

must check the temperature of the tank once every four hours.

It should be 74 degrees.

What's that one doing?

He's fighting his own reflection.

He's my favourite.

I suppose because I identify with him.

Constantly locked in battle

with an intruder who looks vaguely familiar,

but who you can never beat. Never.

Because he's always there.

Elusive.

Threatening.

Always invading your hard-won territory.

Ha. Still, I suppose we all feel like that, don't we?

Erm... oh, yeah...

Very nice.

Are they expensive?

Oh, every fish costs over �60. But they're worth it.

They're magnificent specimens that...

Oh, no! Another one's dead.

And the others are eating it.

Look at them!

His former tank mates can't wait to devour him.

How very like life.

Now, Dave and I are gonna be the panel.

We're just gonna run through some of the bog-standard questions.

And remember, don't be afraid to lie.

So, miss merryweather, why did you apply for this job?

Erm... because the BBC is the Rolls-Royce of broadcasters,

and, erm... I've always aspired to working here.

Excellent. And what qualities would you bring to the job?

Erm... enthusiasm.

Commitment.

Hmm... patience.

Dave laughs

have you got a problem with that?!

Ok, ok. Now, joy, what are you going to wear?

What?

You have to wear something a little more serious than you normally do.

Maybe a tailored jacket.

And maybe in a softer colour. Like, I don't know, lemon, or pink.

Oh, ok, no! I draw the line at pink.

Oh, joy. The colour's not that important.

It's just a means to an end, after all. That's right.

And make the skirt reasonably short, so you can flash a bit of leg.

What?!

I'm not being a sexist, I'm just a realist.

The board is bound to be predominantly male, so...

Dave, this is 1996!

Well, excuse me! If you were conducting an interview,

you wouldn't give someone the job

purely because you fancied them, would you?

Well, of course... I wouldn't.

What do you take me for?

Oh, by the way, George,

there's lots of shocking Fergie revelations coming up.

And they'll need handling with sensitivity and tact.

So let's make sure the lookalikes in our toe-sucking reconstruction

don't overdo it.

So, that's all, champ.

There was one thing, Gus.

Joy may be leaving us. She's got an interview.

Well, she's very efficient, and rather important to us,

so I was wondering if we might persuade her to stay

by offering her improved financial terms.

I'm sorry, but we can't de-harmonise our incremental wages matrix

for one salaried unit. Where's her interview?

The BBC.

Oh, she won't like it there.

She'll have to put up with all that incompetence and management jargon.

I know she's a bit rude, and all that,

and that last week she compared you to...

A stink beetle. Yes.

But, well, she's so organised,

I'm just worried this whole place is gonna fall apart without her.

Oh, come, come, George. Let's not be negative.

We shouldn't undervalue ourselves.

This office is full of top grade talented professionals.

That's a tie.

Bollocks. Rock blunts scissors.

No... always, actually.

Shh. Here she comes.

My word, joy, I nearly didn't recognise you in normal clothes.

You look almost female.

Agh!

They cheer

Damien squawks

oh, for... well, that is just juvenile.

Damien, clear Sally's desk.

Why me? It's always me?

It was his idea. It was not!

Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.

All right, all right, you can both do it.

You started it.

It's like being held prisoner in a bloody kindergarten.

I know, I know.

Hang on, I've just remembered, it was his idea! Yeah!

Just do it!

Oh, joy, you look nice.

I just thought I'd better try and get used to the stuff for tomorrow.

No. Leave the owl.

I'll see if I can brave it out.

Listen, listen, guys, I have been thinking about this.

Do you seriously mean that I might look better without it?

Well, I've never understood it. I mean, you're not usually a man

who worries about what other people think.

Otherwise you'd never have streaked that time.

That's not that daring. Loads of people have streaked.

Yeah, but not in tehran.

We all have our little irrational fears.

I suppose with Sally, it's birds, and with me, it's hair loss.

I suppose I just equate it with getting old.

Besides, without it, I might look silly.

Without it you might look silly?!

Look, it's not something I'm prepared to have an argument about.

All sir roysten's other companies

expect staff to provide their own toilet paper.

All right, listen up, everyone.

Are you all right, joy?

Yes, I'm interested and attentive!

Right, right, yes.

Just a brief word about Teresa gorman's visit tomorrow.

Now, her last visit was marred

by the "offensive graffiti in the ladies toilet" incident.

Now, we haven't been able to get that graffiti off,

so we mustn't let her in there. Is that clear?

Because the last thing we want is her writing more.

Ok, team, I... argh!

Oh, Gus, that hawk is disembowelling a pigeon.

Oh, god, that's awful.

Nonsense! It's necessary.

You know what these pigeons are like.

You have to make an example of them. Target the ringleaders.

Besides, it's only obeying its nature.

Look at those talons ripping into the flesh,

the cold, merciless gleam in its eye.

If you ask me, there's a terrible beauty about it.

It's a perfectly designed, exquisite, airborne killing machine,

and it takes my breath away.

Damien, when was the last time you took a holiday?

Sorry about that. I'll see to it.

Ok, back to work, everyone.

We've got our own vermin to exterminate,

let's gut the competition, and roast those rivals.

And someone call a taxi for Sally.

Come in.

Thank you for coming, miss merryweather.

Joy.

Well, perhaps we can kick off

by asking you why you've applied for this job.

Well, basically, because the BBC is the Rolls-Royce of broadcasters,

and I've always aspired to working here.

Oh, god, what a start to the day!

Who's gonna tell Gus? Well, I'm not telling him.

You may as well tell him, George. He's gonna blame you anyway.

Yes.

Right! That's it, heads will roll, you mark my words.

Ah, could I... I've just come through reception.

Not one security man on duty. Can you believe that?

Yes, I... this place is sloppy!

Well, I'm clamping down, George.

Because I will not tolerate any shortfall in security.

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.

Where the hell were the security men?

They were doing the stealing.

Eh? They've done a runner.

The security firm that you checked out so professionally.

Anything of any value's gone.

Still, at least they left your fish tank. Oh, yes!

But stolen my fish!

They've scooped out...

They've even stolen my bloody net!

Right, we can nail them, though!

They'll have been filmed red-handed by our video surveillance cameras.

They've nicked the cameras.

What? They've nicked the cameras!

Yes, I heard what he said!

And they've nicked my mobile.

Oh, stop whingeing, they've taken my entire office!

I wasn't whingeing, I...

Will you keep the noise down?! I'm trying to ring the police.

Oh, hello. Is that the police?

They're playing me some music.

I see myself very much as an enabler, and a facilitator.

Basically, my strength is bringing out the best in others.

Right.

Now, I think I ought to bring this up, joy,

one of the staff in our news department

used to work at globelink,

and he says you've got a bit of a reputation for being,

well, intimidating.

Really?

Could you give me his name? Please...

Well, I'm not sure that's relevant.

He's obviously got the wrong end of the stick.

We've got a glowing reference here from your editor, George donk.

George dent.

Oh, yeah.

Rather tremble-y handwriting.

Well, he doesn't say anything about you being intimidating.

And besides, I can see that "intimidating"

is not a word that can be applied

to this charming individual who's sitting before us now.

She fakes a laugh

we could do with some more on...

Oh, you know, that disease that affects soldiers.

Michael portillo?

Gulf war syndrome.

Oh, come on, Damien, you were there. What went on?

Well, we were all geared up for a sneak chemical attack from Saddam,

but, foolishly, we weren't expecting one from our own side.

Well, the police say they can find no record

of a rottweiler security consultants limited.

Well, I... don't worry, Gus, we get the picture.

Basically, if pol pot and oj Simpson had turned up

offering you a cheap deal on security,

you'd have taken it, wouldn't you?

Morning, everyone.

I notice there was no uniformed gorilla on the desk.

I take it they've been sacked?

The security firm were a phony. We've been cleaned out.

What? Arghhh!

Oh, my god!

Oh, what's it got now?

Urgh, it's tearing the thing to pieces.

Looks like a small cat.

No, I don't think it's a cat. What is it, then?

No, you're right. You don't look better without it!

Stupid bloody bird!

Oh, be fair, Henry.

From above, it probably looked like a slow-moving ginger rodent.

Let me look. I must see.

My word, that's impressive.

The way its beak is tearing through all that cheap nylon.

Come on, Henry, you have to see the funny side of it.

Helen's right.

Try to think of it not so much as an upsetting humiliation,

more as an amusing anecdote.

Do you know, I'm beginning to see the beauty in these birds after all.

I hope you all die.

A mercilessly slow and painful death.

And that your loved ones feed your bodies to the dogs!

Bit uncalled for.

It's not his fault. It's understandable, really.

So upset, he lost control.

Yeah.

It's rug rage.

Well, joy, I have conferred with my colleagues,

and we've agreed that you're clearly the best qualified candidate.

So, we'd like to offer you the job.

Thank you. Good.

Well, the personnel department will be on to you

apropos your contract.

So, it only remains for me to say, welcome to the BBC.

I look forward to working with you, joy merryweather.

Pretty little name for a pretty little thing.

I'm sure we'll be doing great things together.

Erm... you're hurting my hand.

Help me, somebody!

Oh, I see you've got a new...

Well, the running order's been rejigged.

Madonna's little baby's been moved up in front of northern Ireland.

Lord, take me now!

And re the northern Ireland peace talks,

you're interviewing Gerry Adams and Ian paisley.

Oh, whoopee! Interviewing Gerry Adams

is like trying to nail a jelly to a raindrop.

And all paisley will do is bloody bellow the only two words he knows,

"betrayal", and "surrender".

God, I bet that man's crap at scrabble!

And the last item will now be this hospital

which is turning away elderly patients.

Correction, George, they are not patients.

They may have fought for this country in the war,

and they may have paid a lifetime's taxes,

but once they have the temerity to reach old age,

they become bed blockers.

According to trust administrators.

Or, as I like to call them, fist stoppers.

Yes, well... if there are any further changes,

I'll tell you through your hairpiece.

Earpiece!

Excuse me.

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