All language subtitles for Two.Pints.Of.Lager.And.A.Packet.Of.Crisps.S01E06.Ugly.Babies.DVDRip-TheD

# Hey, Mr Bartender, give me a drink

# I want a cold, wet glass with bubbles in it

# And that doesn't mean
I can't handle anything stronger, now

#Just think I'll wait a while

# I'll have a pint of lager, please!

# And a pack of flakeys #

Right, what do you reckon, - A, B or C?

Erm, C. If I was president, I'd definitely
form an army to get rid of poverty.

- How?
- By shooting all the poor people.

- Has nobody noticed I'm being forlorn?
- I did notice.

I thought you were suppressing your bowels.

- I was sick this morning.
- So was I.

- So was I. What time?
- About nine.

Me, too! We could be vomit sisters.

Please don't. Do you reckon
it was drinking that Listerine?

- Maybe.
- Was your sick minty-fresh, too?

Yeah.

No, it's not just the sick.
I mean, I'm always being sick.

- Sick is a familiar friend.
- So, what's wrong, then?

Well... I think I'm pregnant.

- Boring!
- I'm being serious!

Well, you've never practised safe sex.

You've picked up more dirt
than a JCB in your time.

- Well, are you late?
- About five days.

- Is that bad?
- Bad enough to make us go...

- Really?
- This is so exciting.

Oh, my God. Has it got that bad
that our only excitement

is Janet weeing on a stick
and then going "hooray"?

I could be carrying life here. Can we focus?

Congratulations.

- "Congratulations"?
- Well, you might have been happy about it.

I took a chance not saying,
"Get the Hoover. I'll sort it."

Well, I'm not happy.
At least, I don't think I am.

You don't think you are?
Don't you know how much babies cost?

More than a Peugeot.

Louise is right. Me and Jonny
don't have enough money for a baby.

Look, I'll nip down the chemist
and get a pregnancy test.

I need some... toe separators, anyway.

- No, you're just being nice.
- No, I have slightly deformed feet.

Do you reckon Jonny'd make a good dad?

No, he'd probably use it
as a down payment on a moped.

Louise! He would not.

If I keep this thingy -
if there is a thingy -

then Jonny would be
a very protective and responsible father.

Here we go!

(LAUGHS DRUNKENLY)

Oh! Oh, no.

Christ! I think I just followed through.

You'll never beat me, mate. Champion again.

You know, I cleared over five foot then.
I could pee over Kylie without much bother.

But are you really proud of that?

- What do you mean?
- Well, we did this when we were 15.

I know. I was champion then.
Although I'd have only cleared Danny De Vito.

- We haven't moved on.
- So what?

Pissing outside is one
of life's greatest pleasures.

What an entertaining life you've had.

It equals stealing your sister's underwear
and sniffing it with you.

- I haven't got a sister, remember?
- Oh, yeah, it was your mum's.

That's disgusting and untrue.

And strangely erotic.

Look, what are you getting at, anyway?

There's more to life than pissing up a wall.

More? There's fags,
shags and kebabs. That's all.

That can't be all there is.
I just want something exciting to happen.

- I can get you a stripper like that.
- No.

I know one with webbed feet.
You wanna see her pogo!

No duck woman, all right?
Don't worry. I'll sort something out.

I weren't worried.
I just wanted to see a freak strip.

- Why have you got two?
- Because you might do a Carling Black Label.

- A Carling Black Label?
- A weak piss.

Well, I don't want Jonny finding
this spare one. He'll think it's a kazoo.

(HUMS "LA MARSEILLAISE")

I'll take one home, then.

Well, hide it.
Under your pillow's a good place.

Yes, but what if
the pregnancy test fairy steals it?

Donna! This was 12 bloody quid!
I could buy Rod, Jane and Freddy for that.

- Well, just go and do it, will you?
- OK.

- Right. Good luck.
- (WHIMPERS)

OK, Louise, let's carry on with your quiz.

Right. Question Nine. If you discover
a friend's boyfriend has been cheating,

do you A - tell her,

B - mind your own business,

or C - have a crack at him yourself?

C, definitely.

Well, if Gaz was cheating on you,
it might as well be with me.

- We could be spunk sisters.
- Please don't!

Please don't.

Right. Adding up your score now...

(HUMS "COUNTDOWN" THEME)

You're a twat.

- What?
- Well, on the Twatometer,

you rate at "ultra twat
with Adam Rickett sprinkles".

No!

I can't do it.
I'm dryer than an Always Ultra.

My bladder's usually so forthcoming,
like a favourite auntie, if you will.

Janet, do you think I'm a twat?

Right, Mum... Don't jump to conclusions,
and I'm probably going to regret this...

Regret nothing, darling,
except short men and paisley.

How do you know if you're pregnant?

I can't be a grandmother! I'm too pert.

- Abort, for God's sake!
- You're jumping to conclusions.

- I told you not to.
- I don't think you did.

- How do you know if you're up the duff?
- Usually, you give birth.

- No, in the earlier stages.
- We have gin. Lots and lots of gin.

I don't want any gin. I've had
a poorly tummy. I'm gonna detoxify.

Detoxify?
Oh, for that you need laxatives.

Lots and lots of laxatives. And some gin.

Mother... (SLOWLY)
What are the warning signs of being pregnant?

- I'm not sure.
- You must remember something.

Well, I suppose I was a bit over-emotional.

- Emotional. Good, yeah, anything else?
- Nipple darkening.

- OK, crazy nips. Great. What else?
- I don't know...

Hot flushes and a touch of alcoholism.

- What?
- In my day, they said Guinness was good.

- Yeah, so?
- It were great for me.

What's the matter? You're usually all
sexed-up by now, like some filthy alley cat.

Miaow!

- I'm just not in the mood tonight. Sorry.
- Is it me? Do I repulse you?

I can stop yelling,
"Tina Arena, you will be mine!"

No, it's not that.
I, um... quite like that, strangely.

So, what? Is it the bed?
Does it smell too much of gravy?

No. I love gravy. It's my favourite soft drink.

What is it, then? Take your coat off,
at least. I don't fancy going out.

I know the Sesame Street
exhibition's reopened...

but Big Bird... I hate him, the big yellow tosser.

I'd just like to talk, Gaz.

Talk? Er, yeah.

Talking's good.
U-U-Understanding women and all that.

About boobs and, er... p-p-periods.

What do you think of Benazir Bhutto?

No, I just... About stuff, you know?
Life and death and humanity...

- and the future and us.
- Yeah, um... I'd love to do that.

- But I've got to brush my teeth.
- Why?

Well, all the, erm...
great philosophers had good teeth.

Like, erm... Plato and, um,
that other one... Paul Daniels.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Gaz? Gaz?

(SHOUTS) You've gone out, haven't you?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

- I'll get it. No, you stay there.
- I'm there now, I'm up.

- OK, you get it.
- Ooh, do y'know, I think I'm leaking?

- Hello.
- Oh, my God! How far along are you?

No, this is just a load of
rubbish I stuffed up myself.

Do not talk about a human life like that.

See, Donna?
I'm a Mother Nature-type figure now,

and no one can call Mother Nature a twat.

Timmy Mallett would disagree
with you, the poor genetic mutant.

- Have you told Jonny yet?
- No, I tried, but we were eating prawns.

They look like foetuses.
I thought it would put him off.

Well, my mum
says your nipples go darker if you are.

Mmm. Oh, I don't think so.

I've never given them that much attention.
They've always been Jonny's department.

- Well, you'll have to tell him soon.
- Why?

Because... I've got these
lovely little booties for you.

And this beautiful breast pump.

You twat!

- That's so tactless. Give 'em here.
- No, it's not. It's caring and... lovely.

Are you scared about
how Jonny's going to react?

Do you think he might leave,
then you'll be my single mum friend?

This is so exciting!
No one else at uni's got one.

Could you wait for me
after lectures with a pram and a fag,

going "Shut up, you little bugger,
before I shut you up!"

- No, Louise, that won't be happening.
- Maybe you could tell Jonny.

- Then he could kill you.
- OK, where is he?

I don't know. He said he was going
to do something exciting with Gaz.

(JONNY) Now, this is exciting.

(GAZ) So, we go all the way to the bottom?

That's about the size of it, yeah.

I think I just followed through.

What's the matter with you?
You're like a bulimic with no fingers.

This isn't what I had
in mind for more excitement.

It reminds me of being a kid at Southport.

Well, except this pony's
not got maggots falling out its arse.

Whoo! Go on, driver! Wa-hey!

This is well better! There's no point pony
riding unless it's for the right reasons.

Shut up!

Wa-hey! Go on, lad!

(MAKES SILLY SQUEAKY SOUNDS)

- What?
- I'm just trying to create some excitement.

I take you on the horses, we ride
the choo-choo, I even buy you a Happy Meal.

You sound like me dad
when he had weekend custody.

You must have enjoyed something.
I mean, them ponies were great.

- I could have been a jockey.
- What in? The giant horsie races?

Do you know jockeys bathe in salt water
before they race to make them shrink?

Well, you can't stay shrunk, can you?

I don't know. Look at "The Borrowers".

- No, that was a film.
- Based on a book proving that could happen.

So, by your reckoning,
"The Incredible Hulk" was a true story.

- What is a hulk, anyway?
- I'm not sure.

I think it's a cross between hunk and bulk.

Of course,
you can't have "The Incredible Hunk",

'cause that just sounds like gay porn.

Yeah, and you can't have
"The Incredible Bulk"...

because that just sounds like gay porn.

A pony and a train
isn't the best way to get excitement.

I could lend you
some locomotive horse pornography.

Where the hell did you get that?

Well, I was just bored one day
and made a collage.

It's nothing I can put my finger on.

I need something big to happen.

Life just seems to be dull, dull, dull.

Why is life so big?

- How do you feel?
- It's not definite, though?

Well, it is a possibility.

How could you let this happen?

You keep the alcohol level
in your blood too high to conceive.

Well, I try to. It's hard when
your liver's so bloody healthy.

Listen to me, blaming you,

when it's my fault
with my flamin' superior man-juice, damn it!

Well, we are at the height of fertility.

God, they must be incredible swimmers.
Do you reckon we could bottle it and sell it?

- Jonny, can we get back to our problem?
- Yeah, sorry.

- OK, so how are we going to get rid?
- Get rid? It's not a garden shed.

Correct. Garden sheds are useful.
Can you keep a mower in a kid? I think not.

- You wouldn't even consider keeping it?
- We'll get you sorted you out,

and get you get spayed
at the same time or something.

I can't believe you just said that.

No. One minute I'm riding a pony,
the next I'm regretting ever having sex.

You had sex with a pony?

- No. How could you let this happen to us?
- Jonny, it's a two-way thing.

- You're usually there as well, remember?
- Well, sometimes I don't remember.

After 12 vodkas, the only way I know we've
had sex is you're stuck to me in the morning.

You're lucky I don't go to the police about you.

Jonny, you're being
really horrible, and I am with child.

Yeah, maybe, not definitely. I've gotta
get out of here. I'm going to the pub.

I'm only 21. I don't want babies till I'm 50.

- You're being really immature.
- Immature? Watch this.

Whoo! Whoo!

What does that say? Bad parenting skills.

- Well, loads of people have babies young.
- Yeah, and they all die of syphilis.

- No, they don't.
- Yeah, so?

I can't listen to this any more.

I've got to get out. I'll leave you with this -
babies are parasites, like germs

- or those little sucky things.
- What? The French?

No, leeches. And that's
what it'll be - a grubby little leech.

Yeah, well, it'll take after you, then.

I think you've said enough.

How could you do this to me?

- Jesus was born in a barn.
- What are you talking about?

With cows and chickens and sheep and goats.

Don't start singing "Old McJesus Had A Farm".

I'm just saying that even a baby born into
lowly circumstances can still be something.

He was nailed to a cross
after some bloke snogged him.

Yes, but before that,
there was a bit of chat, a bit of drinking.

- Are you getting religious?
- No, I was just thinking about having kids.

I mean, if a poor young couple
accidentally fall pregnant,

they can still be all right.

Have you spoken to Jonny about it? Gaz?

Gaz? Oi!

(PANTS) Preg! Preg!

No! Help!

Want me mum... Ugly babies...

What? Hey!

(GROANS)

Heart attack!

Tell Donna to... to name it Gaz!

- Donna's pregnant too, then?
- Too?

Janet's had a bite of the sausage sandwich
and the mayonnaise was ripe.

- What?
- One minute I'm riding a pony,

- the next I'm wishing I'd never had sex.
- You shagged that pony?!

- No! She's up the duff.
- What? The pony? You are a fertile man!

No, Janet.

We got our women pregnant at the same time.

We've got telepathic testicles!

No, no. Donna is not pregnant.

I'd know by now. Janet would have told me.

God. Janet pregnant.

I... I really don't want a kid.

- They need looking after all the time.
- Yeah, like women.

- And they need changing all the time.
- Once again, like women.

And they're... they're noisy and stinky.

You're back to your pony now.

Why wouldn't he want our baby?
I mean, we've been together for ages now.

Well, he's probably looking
for someone better to come along.

- Who's better than me?
- Well, me, for a start.

I don't go around
getting pregnant all the time.

- We don't know if I am pregnant.
- Yes, but people like you usually are.

Louise, I thought you were trying to help.

Now you're upsetting me.
I'm really fragile at the moment.

Well, then, do the test. Find out for sure.

No, just stop, Louise.
I'll do it in my own time.

Pressurising me is not going to help.

And it's not going to help
get Jonny back, either.

You're right. I've got to remedy this.
I've got to prove I'm not a twat.

You don't mind if I pop out
for a few minutes, do you?

Right.

It's you, me... and a bowlful of piss.

I don't need a kid.

I've got enough trouble organising
me own life. You can't file pain.

Yeah, babies are ugly.

They always look through me
with their scary baby eyes

and see the blackness that is my soul.

Shame on you. That's a tiny
little person you're talking about,

a teeny-weeny, beany-bynie,
ickle-wickle baby.

What are you doing here,
you scary rhyming lady?

I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Jonny.

Jonny, you did a bad thing.

Guaranteed, it's not as bad
as matching plaid with leather, but it's bad.

Janet's crying, and mucus is not very attractive.

She's all on her own and worried
she can never talk to you again,

even if the problem's
really big, bigger than this,

like if someone died on "Corrie" or something.

And if she keeps this baby, she'll need you.
We've got to think of her needs,

and whether you're going to become parents
to something you created together as a couple.

Do you see what I'm saying?

Louise... did you just say that you
left Janet all on her own, crying?

Oh, my God! I AM a twat!

Twat! Twat! Twat!
Twat! Twat! Twat! Twat! Twat!

'Course I love babies.

Yeah, babies are great. They have fatness.

Yeah. And they're no trouble.

Whack some absinthe down,
they sleep no mither.

And feeding a baby? Easy.

Just whack it on her tits and get yourself
round the pub before you get jealous of it.

So that's it.
I'm having a baby. It's a great idea.

I can't see why
I didn't get her up the duff before.

Nine months time, you'll be Uncle Gaz.

Like, um... Uncle Ben, only you won't look
so much like a Jamaican sex offender.

Yeah, and you'll be Jonny. Jonny the daddy.

You'll be able to teach it
to read and write and do sums...

Maybe not.

No, but you'll be able to teach it
to do really quiet but revolting farts.

That'd make me so proud.

I'm going home
to tell Janet we're having this baby.

I'll make her
the happiest woman in the world.

- Pint first?
- Yeah. Wet the baby's head, eh?

Whoo! Yeah! Come on!

# I'm not pregnant! I'm not pregnant! #

Whoo-hoo! Thank you! Thank you!

(JONNY SLURS) Do y'know what, right?
We should get Janet a present

to celebrate our first-born's conception.

Yeah. Have you got anything on you?

- I've got a fiver.
- I'm not paying her to be pregnant.

It'd do me if I got pregnant.

Get her some gripe water or summat.

- I've got some chewing gum.
- No.

We'll have to go
to the all-night garage, then.

Unless she wants a condom.

Here's to the arid wasteland
that is your womb.

- Cheers! Do you want a fag, Don?
- Er, no, thanks.

- I even started having phantom cravings.
- What for?

Well, fags mostly.

No, cravings are for things the baby
wants like broccoli and tinned pears

and women with big mams.

- I can't see any baby wanting fags.
- Some women have cravings for coal.

I was just updating it.

Would you have considered
keeping it if you had been?

A little person who loves you forever.

No. The only point in having kids
is when they can make tea...

or when they're teenagers,
and you can steal their cannabis.

Yeah, but it'd be nice to have someone
to look after you in your old age,

like our parents did for their parents,

and we'll do for them,
and our babies will do for us.

Nah!

Have you told Jonny the good news yet?

No, I'm teaching him a lesson. Let him stew.

# Ha-ha this-a-way, ha-ha that-a-away

# Ha-ha this-a-way, my oh my... #

(BOTH LAUGH DRUNKENLY)

Shut up!

Oh, I tell you,
if I have a girl, I'll call her Ferrari.

Ferrari Sabrina Britney.

What about a boy?

Craig.

Here's to no more sex.

Oh, no!

Oh, my God! Have your waters broken?

Why have you got compost on your shoulder?

Well, we thought
it might nourish the child.

You know, vitamins and minerals
and... manure, me mum says.

Oh, my God! Ferrari!
How could you? Getting our child drunk!

And smoking. You'll stunt her growth.

We'll give birth to an alcoholic dwarf baby.
Oh, my God! Keith Chegwin!

- Jonny, hold on a second...
- No, I can't hold on.

I demand custody of that child right now.

- That might be a bit messy, Jon.
- True. But as soon as you squeeze it out,

I'm taking Ferrari Sabrina Britney
to a safe house.

A safe house by the sea, where we can frolic.

My God, will we frolic.

And there'll be larking, too.
My daughter will want for nothing.

She'll have dollies aplenty.
And bears. But no clowns, they scare me.

And on a perfect summer's eve,
when the sun dances like... Michael Flatley,

after our dinner of spaghetti hoops,
we'll run down to a sea so calm,

it would make
Des Lynam look like a scary wolfman.

She'll be the most cherished
little girl in the world, my little Ferrari.

Jonny...

- I'm not pregnant.
- Well, thank fuck for that!

That was all right. Everything being OK.

Can we talk about us first, though?

As long as the conversation
ends in some sex, I'm fine.

It's not quite as simple as that.

What's simple about sex
after the amount of Stella I've drank?

Well, erm...

you know the situation
that Janet nearly found herself in?

Yeah?

- Well, I think you should know...
- Hold on, I've got a surprise for you.

Have you?

Wait there.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Gaz?

(SHOUTS) Have you gone out?

You're not pregnant, are you?

Bingo.

Oh, bugger!

- You're definitely the father.
- She's sure?

She could have sat on something by accident.

No, she didn't say anything about
sitting on an ejaculating man recently.

- What you gonna do with the baby?
- What do you think I should do?

Gaz!