Original subtitles

This pedestrian suffers from a terrible affliction, which

makes the simple task of walking along the

pavement a difficult maneuver.

You see, this man suffers from voiceover syndrome.

He's so engrossed in listening to my voiceover,

that he fails to notice dangerous objects.

It could have been the fastest thing on

two legs.

So he says to Ben Johnson, I'll race

you to that lamppost over there.

Right, says Ben.

OK.

So into the pub goes I, drags out

yer man, Mickey Murphy, to give us the

ready, steady go.

Ready, steady go, says he.

Johnson's screaming off down the road like a

shagging banshee.

And where am I?

Going nowhere fast.

With me ankle chained to the bumper of

a Ford Cortina.

Ben Johnson, you're a bloody cheat.

And one day, one day you'll be found

out.

Though I'll not be the one to grass

you up.

Could have been the fastest thing on two

legs.

Damn pollution.

The stuff that comes out of the bloody

tap nowadays.

Now me and Ron have come down here

tonight to lay on something special for you

people.

And that something special we're going to lay

on tonight is called...

A rubber woman.

A feast of entertainment.

A rubber woman is a feast of entertainment.

Norman...

What's that?

What's what?

That, I mean, you let yourself go a

bit, haven't you?

I certainly have not.

This is my empathy pouch.

Your what?

My empathy pouch.

It's a new idea from the States, you

see.

Yeah, when your wife's pregnant, you wear one

of these and you feel empathetic with her,

yeah?

I hope the word is pathetic, actually.

What's this supposed to do?

Oh, it doesn't do anything, it's just a

bulge.

You wear it and you can feel what

she's feeling, you know.

Fulfilled, satisfied.

Up the duff.

My wife is with child, actually, Gareth.

I just want to share her pregnancy.

I want to share her pain, her anxiety.

Her maternity frogs.

Oh, that's it, have a good laugh at

me.

Just because I feel really strongly about this,

I think it's rather nice that I want

to share her painful burden, actually.

Yeah, yeah, actually, yeah, you're right.

Sorry, Norman, that.

Oh, it's all right, it's OK.

So what are you hoping for?

Well, we don't really mind if it's a

boy or a girl.

Or a cushion.

Just pack it in, will you, Gareth?

Oh, sorry, Norman, but it is ridiculous.

Do you really think so?

Yeah, yeah, you look like Marlon Brando with

wind or something.

Just take it off.

OK, I'll take it off under one condition.

OK, what's that?

You take yours off first.

Hi.

Thank you for coming.

Now, we all know why we're here, yes?

Well, we're here because we all have a

problem that we share.

Now, can anybody tell me what that problem

is, yes?

Well, the problem is, that we all share,

is the problem of communicating with each other.

And tonight, we're going to take the first

step to solving that problem by talking in

a friendly and open way, using what I

like to call our voices.

Now, who'd like to set the ball rolling?

It's Mary, isn't it?

Yes.

Now, Mary, did you relate to what I

was saying about the problem of solving a

problem by sharing a problem?

Yes, Dave, I did relate.

And I'd say your philosophy was incredibly profound

and well-based.

But for myself personally, I find pluralistic therapy

retrogressive in that the group, or social one,

is not at all advantageous to certain segments

of the class in its entirety.

Thank you, Mary.

Well, I'm sure we all learnt something there

about the problem of relating through communication.

You see, to me, Dave, communicating, thereby relating

or expressing one's thoughts, not solely through the

medium of sound language, but also through identifiable

gesture...

Yes, thank you.

Thank you, Mary.

So, what is communication?

How can I best define it?

Well, communication...

Communication, or relating one's opinions, ideas, feelings to

another, or, indeed, to engender sympathetic mutual understanding

between two or more people...

Yes, yes, yes.

Thank you, Mary.

Thank you.

Communication, then, is simply talking to each other.

Well, not only talking to each other, Dave...

Oh, shut your mouth, you stupid cow!

Come on.

Well, Percy, how are you?

Champion, George, how are thee?

Champion as well.

Ah, well, that's champion, then, George, eh?

What have you got in your cardboard box,

then?

Oh, something I bought from a bloke down

at the pub.

That's him for a rich surprise tonight, that

old bitch.

I bet she is.

Where do you put the batteries, then?

Nay, nay, it's not a torch.

I know it's not a torch, you daft

wazzock.

A torch has ring on the end to

hang up from nail.

What, you bought Wife Cucumber for, then?

You going on that shift, or what?

Nay, yon's not a cucumber.

This is a chameleon.

A what?

A chameleon, one of them funny lizards, what's

changed its appearance to blend in with background

noise.

Get away, you daft beggar.

That's a cucumber.

Snort, it's a chameleon.

It just looks like a cucumber, because it's

blending in with other veggies there, look.

So suppose, if you put it over there

with me tool kit, it would turn into

a ratchet screwdriver or something.

Aye, I'd happen as like it would, aye.

Well, go on, then.

Aye, all right.

Percy, that is a cauliflower.

But the old chameleon's changed shape already, look.

This is your chameleon.

Oh, aye.

Right, put it over there.

Let's see if it turns into a ratchet

screwdriver, then.

Aye, all right, right.

There's not much happening.

Give it time, give it time.

Percy, you can wait from now till doomsday

and nothing will happen.

You know why?

Why?

Because it's a chuffing cucumber, that's why.

That bloke down pub can't be reaten proper.

He must have thought you were born yesterday.

What do you mean?

Well, when bloke sold it to you, you

must have noticed it didn't blend in with

out else in pub.

No, no, that one didn't, no.

This one did, though.

Hey, James.

What?

Do you think you could play cricket on

snow?

No, but I tried it on grass once.

I also tried it once with smack.

I've got a long leg.

I've got a short, square leg.

The colours, the whites, the greens.

I'm a little wicked.

Over.

I'm going, mate.

Cheers.

Hey, you know how my wife said to

me?

No, what?

She said, you're a fat slob.

She said, you're unfit.

She didn't.

She did.

I said, right, right, fitness, right, is all

a state of mind, like.

You old cow.

I said, if you think you're fit, you'll

feel fit.

Yeah, that's right.

Just because you've got a bit of a

gut on you, don't mean you're not fit,

like, right?

Yeah, yeah, that's right.

I said, hey, don't let this belly spilling

over my trousers fool you, like.

Because, like, underneath this man the flap, right,

I'm a really fit bloke.

Yeah, I know what you mean, right.

I mean, I've had a bit of trouble

like that myself.

Not a lot of people know this, but

I am one of the fittest blokes around

for my age.

Yeah?

How old are you?

21.

You see, nowadays they just go by looks,

right?

It's what you look like that they go

by.

I mean, they don't look past the rolls

of flap to the man underneath, like.

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah.

Take yesterday, for example, right.

I was running for the bus.

I must have run, what, 20 yards, right?

Yeah.

Now, admittedly, the driver had to give me

kiss of life.

But, and here's the point, it's how quickly

you recover that matters, right?

Right.

I mean, that's how an athlete is judged,

right?

How quickly he recovers.

Yeah, so how quickly did you recover then?

Well, I was right.

It was rain by bedtime.

Yeah.

I know what you mean.

I mean, same thing with me, right?

Yeah.

Last week, I dropped my wallet on the

floor, right, bent over to pick it up.

Well, by the fuss they made at the

bloody hospital, you'd have thought I'd had an

heart attack.

So, anyway, I says to that doctor, I

says, right, I says, listen, matey, even that

Sebastian Cogies would get spots before his eyes,

ringing in his ears, if he bends over

a bit shabby, shall we say.

Because you're a bit stocky, because you're a

bit stocky, like, people think you're unfit.

I mean, look at Bernard Manning.

Oh, little Bernard, eh?

Yeah.

I mean, he could box 15 rounds or

run a marathon if he wanted to, but

people just think he's a fat sod.

Yeah, yeah.

What about old Nigel Lawson?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Anyway, what do we care?

What do we care?

We know that we've got the fitness underneath

when we need it.

We just don't bloody flaunt it, do we?

The women love it.

Yeah.

Yeah, mate.

Right.

Fancy another pint?

Nah, better not.

I'm watching me figure, you know.

So, to sum up, then, on our best

equipment survey amongst female tennis players, the Ace

Racket came out the best buy at £35.

Excel Ladies' Tennis Shoes were the most popular

at £29.99 a pair.

And Mighty Atom was right up there.

Hello, Jennings.

You're a long way from your patch, O 'Keeffe.

Just a social call, Jennings.

I thought we agreed.

Your territory's from the herbaceous perennials to the

Jerusalem artichokes.

Yeah, and you control the Scarlet Rhino beans

to the Savoy cabbage.

I know all of this, Jennings.

As I said, it's just a social call.

Do you normally get tooled up for a

social call, O'Keeffe?

Well, you can't be too careful.

The word is there's green fly on the manor.

So, what do you want from me then, O'Keeffe?

I want to know how to propagate begonias

from leaf cuttings.

I know nothing about begonia propagation.

Don't give me that crap, Jennings.

The word is in Parker's you were number

one top dog begonia wax propagator.

In fact, the word is you could propagate

from a single leaf at less than the

desired temperature without using John Innes compost.

All right, all right.

Maybe I do know about propagating begonias from

leaf cuttings.

What should I tell you?

You don't have to tell me anything, Jennings.

As if you never want to see your

prize cucurbita pepper ovifera again.

All right, all right.

I'll tell you what you want to know.

Just leave my cucurbitic eye alone, all right?

That's better, Jennings.

Now tell me what I do with a

begonia leaf.

Do I cut the stem with the heel

of the parent tuber attached, or what?

Just a minute, O'Keeffe.

Just a minute.

If I tell you what you want to

know, we'll send it for me.

You're not as green as you are brassica

oleracea looking, are you, Jennings?

What do you want?

Well, you know I'm growing some allium super

alliaceae.

Yeah, I've seen them.

Nice onions.

I want to know the best time to

bend the tops over them.

You drive a hard bargain, Jennings.

Too hard, in fact.

So my advice to you, old son, is

to watch it.

Watch what, O'Keeffe?

Gardner's World, sir.

There's a repeat on the television this afternoon.

Ronnie, I never forget.

He's got a really good way of remembering

your face.

I rip it off and stick it in

my wallet.

Good evening.

Gareth and I are feeling really good today,

aren't we, Gareth?

Yeah, yeah.

We're feeling really great.

And we're feeling really great because we've just

been on holiday.

Yes.

They even go on holiday together.

I go on holiday with Gareth because he's

my best friend.

And I go on holiday with Norman because

he pays for it.

We had a good time, though, didn't we?

Yes, we did have a good time because

this year we went somewhere really special.

We went to Haiti.

Aloha!

Aloha!

Haiti, not Tahiti.

Sorry.

You see, in Haiti, the high priestess of

voodoo makes a little doll that's meant to

represent somebody or other.

Yeah, that's right.

And while we were over there, this old

hag came up to me and she gave

me this doll.

And this one's supposed to be Norman.

I mean, look at that.

A bit of old donkey hair on that

end.

It's close in one respect.

And what you're supposed to do is you

stick a pin in the doll and it's

supposed to hurt the person it represents.

What a load of nonsense.

Right, so here is the doll of Norman.

Danger.

And here is the pin.

I'm terrified.

And what we do is we stick the

pin in the doll like that.

I can't feel it.

So we stick it in here and here

and here.

Nothing happens.

Even if we stick it in his jugular

like that.

What a load of rubbish.

Nobody takes this voodoo stuff seriously.

It must be completely out of their skull.

Oh, sorry.

Is the CD disturbing you?

No.

You're new here, aren't you?

Yes, I'm brother Andrew.

Are you a monk?

Oh, yes, yes.

I'm brother Joseph.

Pleased to meet you.

What's all this?

What, this?

Oh, yes, yes.

I'm being punished.

Punished?

Only another six years to go.

And then it's back to getting up at

four in the morning to feed the pigs.

I tell you, I can't wait.

If you're being punished, how come the cell

doors always open?

Mental torture.

They expect me to sneak into that cell

next door with its lovely wooden bed and

damp walls.

You know, sometimes I almost yield to the

temptation, but I have to force myself to

go to the pub every night instead.

The pub?

Yeah.

Fancy a drink?

Oh, no, I mustn't.

Thank you very much.

Of course not, of course not.

I'm the one who's being punished and I've

got to drink this whole bottle myself.

I can't believe all this.

Just look at this.

Look what they make me wear every night.

Oh, please, Janice.

Haven't I suffered enough for one day?

God, I wish I'd never broken the rules.

Six years they gave me, six years of

hard relaxation.

I tell you, it's a living nightmare.

Have you thought of appealing against the centre?

No.

I broke the rules and I deserve to

be punished.

Excuse me for asking, but what exactly did

you do to deserve all this?

I accidentally trod on the abbot's toes.

Abbot?

Brother Andrew.

Don't you know that it's against the rules

to visit a brother when he's being punished?

I'm not a visitor, Abbott.

No?

No.

I'm his new cellmate.

Cigar?

Wardrobe.

All right.

Here we go.

One, two, three.

Piano plays There's so much heartache in the

world.

It's touching the heart of every boy and

girl.

Let's all join together.

There's a job to be done At 63

Park, Mr. Wimbledon.

Save the cats.

Save the cats.

Help Mrs. Johnson's mugging to get down from

the tree.

Let's join our hands together in global harmony.

Help Mrs. Johnson's pussy to be free.

Now, Timmy was a hero around the house.

He never ran away from any rat on

my house.

He'd tease a ball of wool, drink a

saucer full of cream.

In the evening, he would lick his bottom

clean.

Save the cats.

Save the cats.

Let's do it for Britain.

There's a feline S.O.S. There's a

sound for you and me.

Let's join our hands together in global harmony.

Get that pussy home to number 63 Park,

Mr. Save the cats.

Save the cats.

Save the pussy.

He saved it from the tree.

Now, Mrs. Johnson's happy.

And who wouldn't be?

Now, Timmy saved that number 63 Pussy.

Pussy.

Pussy.

Yes, we did have problems finding sopranos for

the church choir, but, uh, not anymore.