All language subtitles for Drop The Dead Donkey s06e03 The Diaries.eng

And in conclusion, may I just stress

that even though sir
roysten has announced

that globelink is permanently
closing down in four weeks' time...

..I really don't think we
should read too much into that.

He chuckles ok, so...

So perhaps sir roysten's engaging in
slightly robust bargaining tactics

over our latest pay round,
but close globelink?

Pish and tosh, it's like
one of his own family.

Didn't he have his mother
confined to an asylum?

It was not an asylum, David, it
was a sheltered housing project.

On devil's island? Let's...

Let's not get bogged down on this.
I'm going to call sir roysten

and straighten it out with
him, man to... superman.

Joy, have you got any new post for me?

Yeah, managing director of
sad tossers international.

Sally, fax for you from channel 5.
Oh, thank you, joy.

You haven't got the job as their
midnight to 6am newsreader.

Thank you, joy.

They've given it to a
pretty 25-year-old.

Does it say that in the fax? No,
but they will have, won't they?

Just like all the other
jobs you applied for.

And, Dave, your landlord rang,
he said he's changed the locks,

put all your belongings
on the pavement,

and left three unfed
rottweilers in your flat.

Thank you, joy.

Don't bloody believe it.

Chloe only bunked off school
yesterday, didn't she?

And today, the little bitch
forged a note from me.

The headmistress has just
given me a bloody lecture

on my responsibilities as a
parent, it's so embarrassing.

Yes, I used to get calls like
that from Deborah's school.

Kept going on about how there's
no male authority figure

in my daughter's life. Yes.

They used to say that to me, too.

Dave!

Do you reckon that's dope?

Well, how would I know?

Smells like it. Yeah, but
I need to be 100% sure.

It's for a story. There
must be some sort of lab.

I'll get that tested for you.

50 quid, no questions asked.

Do you know someone in a private lab?

No, I'm gonna hand it
in to the drugs squad.

You know those times when you
think joy's being sarcastic,

but she isn't...? Uh-huh.

Shit!

More stuff on this awful
hurricane in central America.

Damages running to millions
and millions of dollars.

Not to mention the human cost.

Yes, that'll come to
millions of dollars, too.

No, no, you see, Sally,

the whole point about the
"human cost" is that...

Well, it isn't an amount
you can calculate.

It's not something that
can be expressed in, er,

well, in terms of money.

I'm sorry, you've lost me.

Well, you see, it's an abstract.
It's...

It's ok, it doesn't matter.

Joy, I have been looking
all over for you.

You haven't really given that
dope to the drug squad, have you?

Course I have. What do
you reckon, sarcasm?

No, I'm telling you the truth.

Yeah, but that could be
sarcasm as well, I can't...

Look, will you just tell
him the real truth.

The results of my highly
scientific analysis

should be ready about...

Now. So where's my dope?

In Gus's sandwich. Oh, look...

Don't start all that again.

Where is it really? In Gus's sandwich.

Oh, for god's... erm...

I don't think that was sarcasm.

Joy! I gave you a whole quarter,
where's the rest of it?

In Gus's sandwich.

Gave it to him about an
hour and a half ago,

so we should be able to tell by now.

There we go. Test: Positive.

50 quid, please, Damien.

Tells me everything I need to know.

So, Gus, how's it going?

Excuse me, joy and David,

would you mind reassuring me that
everything's going to be fine

at globelink?

Everything's gonna be
fine at globelink.

Because the thought of not
having a job serving sir roysten

is very black and hairy
and has huge teeth.

And fortunately, I can't
understand what I'm saying.

Join the club. Gus, I need...

She sighs god, has he gone again?

Joy, have you got the number
of his special health farm?

Oh, no, it's ok, Damien
wanted some dope tested

so I put it in Gus's sandwich.

Right.

Helen, so, how's every...? Have
you been buying drugs again?

Oh, please, would I really do that?

Yes, Damien, and you
would also sell them.

As I recall in the course of your

a day in the life of a
drugs dealer report,

you made �1,200 profit.

Well, had to be authentic. You were
arrested outside an infants' school!

Well, that was particularly authentic.

Now, listen to me, Damien...
No, you listen to me!

I obtained that dope as part
of a major investigation

which is in the public interest.
Mobile phone rings

and this is a call that
I have been expecting

from a dangerous drugs
baron, so just back off.

Damien day.

Yes. Now, look, about
that dope you sold me.

Uh-huh, yeah, you say
now that it's herbal,

but, listen, I've had it analysed,
and it is pure marijuana.

So I rather think you should
cooperate and do as I ask.

All right, all right. But
please don't tell my daddy.

Door closes

I had a call from your
headmistress today.

Oh?

You bunked off school yesterday.
Where did you go?

I just hung around down the
shopping centre with my mates.

I see. And were you smoking?

Only crack. Chloe!

I want to know exactly what you did.

I didn't do anything wrong. You lied.

Well, you lie every day.
That's different.

I mean, that's my work.

I mean, when gran and
grandad come round

and they mustn't work
out you're a lesbian.

Or those whoppers you made me
tell when Amanda dropped by

out of the blue that time.

She must be the only
jehovah's witness I know

with a kawasaki 750
and pierced nipples.

Your whole life's a lie, mum.

I'm just learning from the expert.

Is that all?

Morning, team! Morning, joy.

Morning, twat-head.

Morning, Dave. Morning,
Gus, how are you?

Oh, as bouncy as a spring
chicken just ready and waiting

for sir roysten to respond
to my calls. Call.

Right. Er, David, erm...

Did we have a conversation yesterday?

No, Gus, and we certainly
didn't have one

where you revealed your paranoid
fantasies in embarrassing detail.

Right. Good.

So, er, here's today's complaint
from alistair Campbell.

At least he hasn't put
a bullet in this one.

Morning, Sally. Morning.

What are you wearing? I
don't know what you mean.

Sally, this isn't gonna help.

Look, I know it's criminal the way
that women over a certain age...

Helen, just because you've
got it into your head

that I'm having trouble finding a job,

doesn't mean I'm an easy target
for your lesbian propaganda.

My god! Who is this?!

Is it a TV youth presenter?

Is it a pop star? No, I know!

It's the new spice girl.
Yes, it's saggy spice.

God, you must be desperate.
If you must know,

I'm being considered for a
highly prestigious programme.

Yes, I'll be on television
for many years to come.

True, Dennis norden will
never stop showing that clip

where you farted while you were
interviewing mother Teresa.

George?

If you had a very personal secret

you wanted to tell another
member of the family...

..How would you break it to them?

Well, when Margaret wanted
to tell me about her affair

with her badminton instructor,

she hired that billboard
next to the station.

All right, roll up, roll up for the
Dave charnley closing down sale.

Seeing as I no longer have
a flat to put them in,

I thought I'd sell my possessions.
Raise a bit of cash.

Everything must go.

Well, how much is this?

I need a new radio since I...

Lent it to you, Dave.

This is my pen.

These are my gloves and
this is my coffee maker!

What you got left?

How to beat gambling,

kicking the horses,

the 12 step plan to beat addiction...

The 24 step plan to beat addiction.

I won that off some bloke.

Go on, then, I'll have this.
Hang on, hang on.

You're just doing this out
of pity, aren't you? Yes.

Fiver.

This is just a temporary refinancing
till I get my redundancy package.

Oh! What's "huh!"?

Well, my mate Sandra,
she's a lawyer, right,

and she says sir roysten always
declares the whole company insolvent

so nobody gets any redundancy money.
You might as well get fired.

No, I can't. I need the four
weeks' pay before we close down.

I'm relying on that money
otherwise I'll be on the street.

Yeah, but, Sandra looked
at the contract, see,

and if you get fired, you get
a mandatory eight weeks' pay.

So how come you're not
trying to get fired?

What do you think I'm doing?

I'm being rude, I'm being aggressive...

Oh, I don't think anyone's noticed.

Well, they will.

A mandatory eight weeks' pay, you say?

Henry, can I ask your advice?

Say someone wanted to tell
another member of their family

a rather... delicate secret.

Er... what do you think
is the best way?

A letter? A phone call?

See them face-to-face, spit it out.

Just say, "I'm a lesbian."

Henry, I'm talking in general terms.

Say, "mum and dad, I'm a muff muncher."

I...

I, er... "I like shagging other women.

"So damn the lot of you!"
Oh, for god's sake.

Suck on this, saddos,

for here is dying news station's
greatest ever exclusive.

Tony Blair's diaries.

Is that so?

And how did you get hold
of these diaries, Damien?

Erm, apparently, he
just threw them away.

Yeah, the dustmen found them,

and, er, just gave
them to little old me.

There will be insights here
into every major decision

he's made since he took power.

"This is the diary of
Tony Blair." You see?

"Aged 11 and three quarters."

Oh, bloody hell!

"One day, I am going to become
a socialist Prime Minister."

Incredible how wrong you
can be at that age.

Well, they're still broadcast-able.

Even if they are genuine,

they're still stolen documents
so I'm sorry, we...

Gus! Gus! News dude.

I have got the prime
minister's diaries.

Adolescent diaries, you see, look?

Says here he lost his virginity
at a deep purple concert.

Terrific! So obviously, we
have to use them, don't we?

Phone rings oh!

Hello, Gus hedges.

Get off my bloody phone!

I've told you, I'm waiting for
a very, very important call

from sir roysten, you stupid moron.

I don't know, mothers, eh?

So, anyway, Gus, these diaries...
phone rings

is that the phone in my office?

I'm coming! George?

No, Damien.

Yes, this phone as well!

Ju... just tell daddy
to write and tell me

when his operation is over.

But these diaries... had
these been political diaries

then we might have had a
story, but they're not.

They're not a legitimate
source of public interest,

so they have to be returned!

For crying...

But not before we've had
a good look through.

Joy?

This parmesan and salami sandwich
you brought me is inedible.

Yeah, I made it with used odour
eaters and soap shavings.

I don't want any of your sarcasm.

For god's sake, this is not sarcasm!

I made them with used odour
eaters and soap shavings!

For crying out... fucking...

What did you just call
me then, young lady?

Bollock-brained crap wit.
She called me that?!

No, I'm calling you a
bollock-brained crap wit.

So what you gonna do about it? Fire me?

Since you mention it, young sir...
phone rings

ah, that'll be him!

I'm here to see mr jefferies.
Job interview? Yes.

The cleaner or the late
late show presenter?

I'm Sally smedley. Sure.

I am. No, I remember her from the '80s,

she was that frosty
tight-arse on the news.

You look nothing like her.

I am Sally smedley.

Oh, yeah, now I see it.

If you just want to sit over
there with the other applicants.

Ok, he's ready for the next one.

You've written to gran and grandad?
Yep.

Told them everything. So now
neither of us has to lie, eh?

Oh, shit.

Chloe.

I suppose that means I have
to tell you the truth.

See, all that stuff about me
lying cos you're always lying,

I just said that as a, sort of,
standard diversionary tactic.

I don't mind what you
tell gran and grandad.

I just didn't want you to find
out what I'd really been doing

when I bunked off.

And what were you doing?

Shoplifting.

You're not pregnant?! No!

Well, what, then?

I went to see a rerun of
the spice girls movie.

You did what?

I know, mum, it's really embarrassing.

They're so non-cool now, everyone
else is into the prodigy.

But I just can't help it...
Just let me get this right.

I have, after many years of silence,

written to my parents
proclaiming my lesbianism,

because you are ashamed of
liking the spice girls?

Posh is brilliant though, isn't she?

That great staring thing she does.

She's too good for
that plonker Beckham.

And scary spice has got
her tongue pierced,

that's so cool...

Morning, newshounds!

I trust we are sniffing around
the bottoms of the opposition?

Now, I'm sure you've all
got it in your diaries

that today is sir roysten's birthday,

and I know you'd like
to have a collection.

So sir roysten rang you back, then?

Erm, yes, as a matter
of fact, he has, David.

So if you could just
hand that round, eh?

So what'd he say, then?

Well, if you must know, he said, erm...

"How's it hanging, hombre?
You old son of a gun.

"Keep your poker up." Hand
the envelope around, Davey,

we want to get sir
roysten a nice present.

Only thing I'd like to
give him is the clap.

I'm ordering you to make a donation.

I mean, honestly, what is the...
right! I'm warning you.

I've had your defeatism and
subordination up to here.

Whoever does it next
will be instantly fired,

sacked, and dismissed.

Nearly there.

Right, you two, I need to talk
through this winding down

of the number of bulletins.

I was going to do it yesterday
afternoon, but I couldn't find you.

Er, yes, well, erm...

Sally had an interview for a
very prestigious programme.

Didn't you, Sally? Yes.

And so did Henry. Ah, any luck?

No.

We felt we were...

Overqualified. That's right.

Well, nice to be in demand, anyway.

Right, you are gonna have to use this!

Tony Blair's current political diary.

Right, listen to this.

"Oh, god, alistair Campbell
has made another cock-up.

"Our strongly worded denial
that the cabinet is dominated

"by a gay mafia has been
issued in pink notepaper."

Certainly looks authentic. It is!

Well, how the hell...? The dustmen!

They're very on the ball,
these dustmen, aren't they?

Princes among garbage operatives.

So it was definitely these dustmen?
Uh-huh.

And not a 13-year-old girl
called Sophie bellington?

High-pitched: Sophie bellington?

Yes, Sophie bellington.

Who lives at 14 kingscliffe gardens.

She's a friend of one
of the pm's children

who you conned into selling you drugs

and then blackmailed into
stealing private property

from 10 downing street.

Oh, that Sophie bellington.

She rang, very upset.

Oh, yeah, but we've still got to
broadcast it, though, haven't we?

I mean, it's an amazing scoop!

Oh, look, I need this story
if I'm to get a new job

and leave this dump behind.

Well, I'm against it going out. Me too.

Eh?

It would advance the slow
corrosion of journalistic ethics

that has disfigured the last decade.

I couldn't have put it better myself.

No, this is just pure jealousy.

I mean, just because you two relics
couldn't get another job on TV

even if you went down on John birt.
You're just trying to...

Oh, Gus! Gus! Look.

I have got Tony Blair's
political diary.

Yes, but it was stolen. We'll be
hauled in front of the regulators.

What does it matter? Globelink's
closing down in four weeks.

It is not! Yes, well, all I'm saying...

I won't have reporters propagating

these absurd rumours that
globelink is closing.

Yeah, but my story... is not
being broadcast, Damien,

not with your pathetic
defeatist attitude,

not while I'm waiting for a phone call.

Another phone call from sir roysten!

The man who calls me "hombre"!

Helen, look, you're the only
true professional here.

I mean, this is a great story.

The girl sold drugs! She
had it coming to her.

But what about her mother?

Eh? I'll bet you didn't think
about her parent... s.

You have turned a young
daughter, barely old enough

to have outgrown the spice
girls, into a liar and a thief.

What? Helen... you made
her betray her mum.

Helen. Not now, Dave. Helen.

Your mum's on the phone.

What's happened?

Your father died from a
heart attack this morning.

I've killed him.

My letter.

He opened it, read I
was a lesbian and...

..Had a coronary. Come on.

Go and talk to your mother in here.
I've killed my father.

So...

What about my Blair story, then?!

What?

What's happened?

Helen's father has just died.

She's on the phone to her mother now.

God.

You know, it's funny.

She sensed something the
minute she saw my face.

Awful shock.

I remember when my mother died,

heart attack.

I mean, she was 22 stone so
it was hardly surprising.

She died lying on top of my dad.

They were having sex.

We were on a camping holiday
miles from anywhere.

I was only seven.

In the end, I had to fetch the
carjack to lift her off him.

After something like that, a
lot of men would have grown up

thinking of women as these
stifling weights that trap you.

Luckily, it didn't affect me.

Oh, look, Helen's off the phone.
We'd best go. Right.

Poor Helen. Yeah.

Joy, er, can you talk Sally and I

through this trying to get fired thing?

Yes, what exactly are the
financial advantages? None.

I have just come from my lawyer mate

who says she overlooked the clause
that says you don't get a bean

if you get fired through
unreasonable behaviour.

How could a professional
lawyer be so sloppy?

I can't believe I just said that.

Get a cab and I'll come back with you.

I killed my father.

Did your mum mention the letter?

No, but she was just trying
to spare my feelings.

I know it was me.

Did you put this letter
in the office post?

Yes. Oh, I burned that.

I've been burning all the post since
they announced we were closing.

Why? Well, just to cheer me up, really.

But that's wonderful!

I didn't kill my father!

Sobbing: That's the most
wonderful news I've ever heard!

Chin up, Helen! Good times
are just around the corner.

Oh, come along, it's not
as if someone has died.

No helping some people.

Well, great news, team, our
collection for sir roysten

has raised over �800. All of
which you put in there yourself.

Dave... let's face it, Gus,

only a sad 40-year-old virgin
with no friends and no life

could ever possibly fall in love
with a fat, poisonous megalomaniac

like sir roysten.

How do you say those
hurtful, untrue things.

Sir roysten is not a fat,
poisonous megalomaniac.

One more word and you're history.

Wanker.

There you go, there's one more word.

Tosspot. There's another one.

Right, charnley! Clear your desk!

Yes! Severance pay, here I come.
Dave, there's something you...

Dave gets eight weeks' money and
he doesn't have to come into work.

Yes, eight weeks' worth of dosh for...

Someone else has died, haven't they?

Phone rings

hello? 'Hello.'

oh, it's you.

That's right.

Now, here's the deal:

I won't tell mummy and daddy
how that window got broken

if you hide that little
tape recorder I gave you

under uncle Tony and aunt cherie's bed.

Now, it will be fine, don't
worry about alistair Campbell

and his X-ray machine.

Oh, and that bugging device I gave you,

your to slip it into the turn-ups
of Nick brown's trousers, ok?

And, er, if you should be
foolish enough to tell anyone

about our little arrangement,
just remember...

I've got bundlefluff.

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