All language subtitles for B.E.S02E01.Swimming Gala [eng]

Babes, I've missed you so much!

Ah!

Oi, come here!
Give it to me, take it off!

OMG! Leave me alone.
You look like Joan of Arc.

Just out of interest, Friar Tuck.
How are the merry men?

My dad did it. What look was he
going for? A young Ann Widdecombe?

Enough about mushroom head. Guess
what I come back from Malaga with.

Your virginity?

Is it, like, well spiritual and shit?

Nah, it's my Chinese order -
spring rolls, prawn toast, duck.

Did your parents go ape?

I can do what I want, cos they're
getting divorced. It's the nuts!

Which one of them
gets to keep the caravan?

How many times do I have to tell you,
Billy Elliot? It's a static home.

It's got wheels on it. It's a caravan.

That means you're a caravan.
Do they do Big Fat Gypsy Divorce?

Where's Alfie? Probably chipping his
dick out a sock with a toffee hammer.

Right, if anyone laughs,
they're getting expelled.

My dad did it.

What's up, homeboy?

Oi, Little Lord Fondleboy!

Mumford and Sons called.
They want their gay one back.

Very clever, Grayson, but A,
the reason you don't like

Mumford and Sons is cos
you're too young to appreciate

a good dinner party anthem
when you hear one

and B, I've got a girlfriend -
Miss Gulliver.

Did you not get that problem
with your arsehole fixed?

I can hear it talking again.

Check her Facebook status, mate.

Changed yesterday,
to "in a relationship".

P-Widdy,
you're looking fit and healthy.

Let me guess -
no carbs before Marbs?

I went on a moose shoot
in British Columbia.

What, and no-one shot you?
Thankfully, no,

which leaves me able
to fetch my gun

and murder whatever monstrosity's
nesting on your head.

Good to see FC Banterlona stayed
fit during the off-season.

And how did you spend
your holidays, Mr Fraser?

Trying to master the art
of lacing your own shoes?

Oh, no, still wearing
these bad boys.

Every morning I wake up and thank
God I still have size five feet.

Now, first staff meeting
of the new term

and it's Abbey Grove's
swimming gala this week.

Which means it is the sweepstake.

ã10 in.
Winning form teacher takes the pot.

Why do we have to be so competitive?

We should be celebrating each
and every child taking part.

Show me the money, woman.

No, I won't,
because I believe very strongly...

Hey, babe. Don't worry,
I got this. Listen, Izzy,

if she says it ain't happenin',
it ain't happenin'.

I've got your back, babe.

Now, light bulb - ding!

We all know how the UK recently
hosted the greatest show on earth.

The Olympics. Close. The Paralympics?
The what?! No, Splash!

I thought we could end the gala with
a synchronised diving competition.

Synchronised diving? My class would
rather take a running jump.

Shame you won't get your grubby
little paws on this money.

Legal bills can be oh-so-ruinous.

Legal bills?

Well, I presume you're not letting
your hairdresser get away with that.

Cheryl Bowl.
Back off the bob, bitch.

And anyway,
I bet you my class win something.

Yap, yap, yap, yap, yappity, yap, yap.
You're on.

Um, sorry, just to clarify,
I didn't mean betting actual money.

Well, if you win a single event,
I'll match the pot.

That's, like, ã200.

Well, you could spend it
on Pokemons.

Why would I spend it on Pokemon,
when I've already caught them all?

More graceful back and forth -
Ballroom Banter with Banton de Beke!

Ten!

Guys, you need to bring your pyjamas
in on Friday.

Are we having a sleep-over?
Can I be the little spoon?

Er, no, we are learning swimming
safety. Why? We live in Watford.

We ain't going to drown in a flood.

Yeah, well, YOU'RE not. That is the
one advantage of living in a caravan.

If there is a flood, you can
just move to higher ground.

Well, at least I don't look like
an Amish rent boy.

Whatever.
Look, we're learning swimming safety

so we can all enter
the swimming gala!

But we never do the gala!
Well, we do now!

And we are going to wipe that
smug look off Pickwell's face

and, in doing so, win me a cash bet.

And you know what that means -
group trip to Nando's on me.

All we have to do is beat
Pickwell at one thing.

And I reckon
we've got a chance this year,

because there is a new event,
synchronised diving.

It's someone's opportunity to become
the next Tom Daley.

Fierce! Count me in. I'll be
like Usher with gills. Hashtag Werk.

I knew I could count on you, Stephen.

Now, you're going to need
to pick a partner.

Unless, of course, anyone wants
to volunteer themselves?

Jing, maybe? You peeps are
notoriously good at the old diving.

You mean Chinese people?

No. I meant people who wear glasses

and are, um, Sagittarius.

Firstly, I'm Virgo. And secondly,

you may think you've disguised your
prejudices, but you don't fool me.

Classic Sagittarius.

I'll do it for a beer at Nando's.
Done!

Now, on a separate issue,

I need to do something rather special
for the old ball and chain.

My girlfriend, Miss Gulliver.

We had a little bit of
a lovers' tiff in the staff room

and I want to make things right.

I've got a brilliant idea.
I need your help.

Alfie, are you OK? Joe told me
that you'd been to hospital.

Yeah, doctor said someone
had stolen my heart.

You wouldn't happen to know
anything about that, now, would you?

Alfie, we're not in a relationship.

Then why did you put it on Facebook?

I put that I'm in a relationship.
Which I am. Just not with you.

I don't understand.
What... You... Who is it?

Tell me who he is and I will fight
this tag-nut for your hand.

Alex Scott.

Alex Scott? He sounds shit.

No, Alex Scott. I used to teach HER.

Alfie, I really, really didn't want
to have to tell you like this.

You're going out with Alex Scott?
She's, like, 20 and... hot. Yeah.

And a girl! And, sorry,
more importantly, she's your pupil!

WAS... Years ago.

I don't know what to think!

I am angry and aroused and upset.

And mainly aroused. And confused.

I didn't think the idea of lesbians
could make me this miserable.

I just... I like her.
I like Joe, I'm not going to bum him.

This is completely different. Is it?

Sorry, what would you be like
if I was like, "Oh, last night,

"I was helping Joe with his homework
and one thing led to another

"and I just ended up tugging him off
into his Encore Tricolore"?

I'd say, "Why are you teaching him
French?" You know what I mean.

Look, I love you!

See all of this - the petals,
the candles, the Michael Buble.

Does anyone really like
Michael Buble?

He's just a shit Michael Ball.

I realise that this is a strange,
highly emotional time for you,

but how dare you take this out
on the Bube-ster?

She didn't mean it, Michael.

Please don't go. I'm sorry.

Fine! Bye, then!

I'm off to find one of the boys in my
class to see if he fancies a bumming!

Mr Wickers.

These are the Wilsons.

They were thinking about sending
their child to Abbey Grove.

Shall I show you back
to the car park?

Sir, why haven't you dealt
with that bowl yet?

Right, for the last time
it's not a bowl, it's a man bob.

Not gigi. And the reason that
I haven't been able to deal with it

is cos I've been busy picking up
the pieces of my broken heart.

Ah. Miss Gulliver's no biggie, sir.
Every girl has a minge binge.

Minge! Maybe the reason they become
lesbians after they've got with me

is because they know that it's never
going to get any better -

like when Sir Chris Hoy retired
after London 2012.

Want me to be your guinea pig?
You can kiss me and see if I turn,

like a lesbo Twilight.

Sir, so what if Gulliver's
exploring her boundaries?

Sexuality ain't
a rigid set of definitions.

It's a spectrum and we all fluctuate
between its many polarities.

Plus yat on yat is fit, innit?

And he's back.

Joe's got a choad!

Guys, can you hurry up, please?

Piss off, Savile!
Sir's perving on us.

I'm ready, sir.
Hope the water's warm.

I'm not looking. Chantelle,
I told you to put your pyjamas on.

I sleep naked.
Go and get some clothes on now!

This leisure centre is minging.
Joe, you don't sleep in a duffle coat.

I do when it's cold.
Please don't make me swim, Alfie.

Mate, you should be used to
having wet pyjamas!

Is that my shirt? It's all I could find.
Do you want some breakfast?

Look! It's my XXL conny!

It's a verruca sock. Argh!

Where's the lifeguard?
She'd better be a sort.

Don't worry, mate. They always are.

Oi, Jing. Get your harpoon out.
I've spotted a whale.

Sit down, you grubby little toads!

Hi. I'm Mr Wickers.

You too. I'm the form teacher.

Sit! My name is Joy. Before you
begin, a couple of ground rules.

I don't like children,
but I do like my kit.

And take extra special
care of Thomas.

Oh, her dummy's got a name.
Rules. No diving, no bombing,

and no petting -
of the heavy or light persuasion.

What's petting? Why don't you
show us, love? Give us a kiss!

Do you want a faceful of congenital
herpes? Thought not, squirt.

And finally, no running!

We had a lad used to run round,
ended up cracking his head.

He can't run any more. Eats through
a tube and shits in a bag.

I think what Joy is trying to say
is that water can make this surface

very slippery.

Wasn't water.
He tripped on a crutch.

OK, er, back to swimming.
Has anyone got any questions for Joy?

Yeah. Is it true the water changes
colour if you piss in it?

Yeah. It goes yellow.
Tods turn the milk chocolaty.

Someone's done a dump in it?
Wasn't my fault, you weasel.

I've got a spastic colon.
Speaking of which...

Ooh.

Sorry. Aren't you going to help me
with this? Nature calls.

That Ginsters Scotch Egg Bar's
tipping the concierge.

Think it wants to check out.

OK.

That was Joy. Charming little thing.

Right, left, left, left,
right. Halt!

Right, resuscitation.

Oi, look, sir, shag of life!

Mitchell, put that down!

Now, Mr Wickers has got it
into his septic tank of a head

that he stands a chance
of competing this year.

Get off! Mitchell, stop it!

Any hole's a goal.
Let's make it airtight.

Mitchell!
Thomas! Get off my husband!

Right, well, I think
we can rest easy.

Stop looking at me.
Cheeky wee bastard.

Ah! Miss G!

I'm very concerned about
the swimming gala, Fraser.

Can I interest you in a lager?
Or a stout?

I tend not to drink before 10.30am.
A selection of guest ales?

Look, Miss Pickwell is insisting
her children starve themselves,

in order to achieve
Olympic-standard body mass.

Darts?

I'm going out with a woman, Fraser.
I'm not a man.

Oh, there it is. I had heard you'd
kissed a girl and you liked it

and that's totes coolio on so many
levels. Kind of explains why

you've never really wanted
a slice of the Fray Bantos pie.

Mm-hm...
Yup, hit the nail on the head.

Yup, so now that "us" is off the
table, we can let it all hang out.

Oh, wow. Oh, new Speedos
tend to have very little give.

I'm just breaking in
the gusset for later.

Look, this is a point of principle,
Fraser.

Either you excuse my class
from competing

or we will take part
in a non-violent protest at the gala.

I thought you'd be more into
this swimming lark now. Why?

Clare Balding?

Argh. Motherfunkster.

Oi, numbnuts.
Why are you wearing goggles?

Er, because I have a severe
chlorine allergy.

I don't want to get any splashback
from this bad boy.

Wait, you've got webbed feet,
but you can't actually swim?

I know, Jing.
God can be a cruel mistress.

It's like giving the Pope a big willy.

Right, I am going to throw this
plastic brick into the pool

and then each of you
is going to take turns to dive in,

collect it
and then swim it back to shore.

What is this preparing us for?

You know, Jing,
learning is a lot easier

if you don't ask any questions.

OK, so who's going to go first?
Joe, want to get it out the way?

I will.
All right, Stephen, you're up.

Oi-oi! Argh! Mitchell!

Mitchell! Stop splashing me!
I'm allergic.

I need to throw the brick in first.
Get out of the pool!

Come on, throw it.

If you aim at me head, it ain't going to
go anywhere near me. Mitchell, get out!

Or what, you'll come and get me,
goggle rash? Throw it, you melt.

Fine!

Oh, shit!

Sir, help him!
I can't go in, I'm allergic!

Quick, do something!
Is he going to die?

What?

Where's Joy?

He's dying!

JOY! Sir! JOY!

Come on, you bastard. Work with me.

All right, I will buy a second beer
at Nando's

for whoever saves Mitchell!
Right, get in!

Coward.

Stephen, you can stop doing that now.
We've lost.

Can't someone else dive with me?
We've been over this.

Jordan and Raj are injured.
Rem Dogg is, well, Rem Dogg.

Girls?

How can you all be on your periods
at the same time?

Women synchronise too.
Me and Chantelle started Monday...

Please don't! We might as well
just accept Pickwell's won.

Joe's not competing in anything.

I'm on my period too?

Blobby's on the blob!
I told you he had a fanny!

I thought you were concussed?
Oh, me head. Argh! Come on, Joe.

All we need to do is win one event.

No way. Everyone's going to laugh at me.

Why would they laugh?

Last year, I wasn't even swimming,
I was just putting out lane numbers

and Grayson got the whole school
to do the Moob-Bot.

The Moob-Bot?

Oh, that's clever.
But you can't let Grayson win.

But I can't dive. It's not about
diving. It's about synchronising.

You do something, no matter how
shit it is, he tries to copy it.

We might get lucky.

But if it's so easy,
why can't you do it?

Oh, how many times?
Chlorine is my Kryptonite.

One drop of that shit

and I go from Jamie Redknapp
to Harry Redknapp, like that.

Now, come on, buddy. I believe in you.
We all believe in you.

Inspire a generation. Hashtag YOLO.

YOLO, Joe. YOLO.

YOLO, YOLO, YOLO, YOLO,
YOLO, YOLO, YOLO!

Can you buy me three beers?
Everyone can have three beers!

Ah, Mr Smith!

So great to see you,
after the racial insensitivity tribunal.

With hindsight, I can see
that word is best left to rappers.

Well, let's just let bygones be bygones.

Yes, bro.

#..Some day-ay-ay-ay

♪ We walk hand in hand... ♪

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome
to the Abbey Grove swimming gala.

Now, to light the Olympic torch.

Let the Games begin.

Oh, no.

Don't panic! Everything's fine!

Everything's fine.
Everything's cool. Don't panic!

Everything's fine. Do not worry.

Oh, God. It's really hot. Help! Help!

♪ We shall, we shall not be moved. ♪

Argh! Oh, my God!

Stuck, is it?

Stand back.

Sometimes there's no substitute
for a little bit of manpower.

Any minute now, it'll just drop.
It's a stubborn one.

Oh, shit!

Erm, I haven't actually
put my money in it.

Oh... that'll be why
nothing's coming out, then.

FYI, your, er, little minge binge.

Not my fault. I've checked
with loads of my ex-girlfriends

and they're all still straight.

"Checked"?
What do you mean, checked?

I asked them if they were gay.
Not straight out. I'm subtle, like.

What did you ask them?

Timbaland - music producer
or formal evening footwear?

You're intimidated.

No, I'm not.

I just think that, you know...
you might be, er, missing out.

I'm not missing out.

No, because sex with Alex

is a sensual awakening.

Wave upon wave
of mind-blowing orgasms.

She's a volcano of pleasure.

Very clever.

Very clever indeed.

Get your own back
by giving me an erection

at a children's swimming gala. Oh, God.

I don't care
if you're dying of starvation,

your bingo wings are not going
to mess up this entry.

Miss, I feel...
You do not feel, you dive.

Are you all right?

Sir, we need to call security.
I've seen a suspicious package.

Eugh. Pickwell's camel toe?
Toe? That's a whole hoof.

Zero?

Are you out of your tiny little minds?

There was no synchronisation.

Yes! Look, it's easy. Just keep it
simple. Keep it synchronised.

I can't! I can't take my top off.
Everyone will laugh.

Ignore them, Joe. Look,
no-one is happy about their bodies.

You really think that this will
ever win Heat's torso of the week?

No, but they might bring back
Circle of Shame for those nipples.

Stephen, could you just go
and sort out the music?

This dive is happening!

Look, mate, beauty is more
than skin-deep.

You are like...

a Ginsters Scotch Egg Bar. Yeah.

On the outside, you're not
traditionally beautiful,

but inside...
inside, you're pretty damn special.

Argh! My ankle! This witch tripped me!

I said, no running.

No way. Right, that's it.
Shit's getting real.

What about your chlorine allergy?

You know what, Joe? Some day...

we've all got to face up to our fears.

You with me? Oi, chicken dipper!

That's the spirit. Lock and load.

What happened to not being
ashamed of your body?

Joe, there are some shortcomings
that no man will ever get over.

Put it down.

Dive, dive, dive, dive!

Are you sure about this, Alfie?
Yeah. How bad can it be, right?

Bob bump? Bob bump.

Yes! Yes!

Yes, we did it!

Oh! Oh, my chlorine allergy.
It's vanished! I feel fine!

Honestly, guys, how bad is it?

Not bad at all.

Oh, my God, you look minging...
but no worse than normal.

You look fine, sir. Really.

You'd better get into a hot shower
and some dry clothes, sir.

I'll help you get your trunks off.

Whoa! I think I can cope,
thank you, Chantelle.

Is somebody there?

Where are my clothes?
Nice face, Downton.

Seriously, Frank,
I am not in the mood for this.

Thunderbirds are GO! What?

Give me my towel back!

Ow!

This isn't funny!

Seriously... Seriously, guys.
Come on, sir!

This is not funny! Alfie?

Hello? Rosie?

We're in the lobby, aren't we?

Yeah. Shit!

This is my recurring nightmare.

Is he OK? Oh, is this...?

Yes! This must be the famous Alex.

How wonderful to finally meet you.

No?

It's like that, is it?
You are making a spectacle of yourself.

Go and put some clothes on!

Oh, sorry. You think I'm embarrassed
about my body? Pu-lease!

Darling, you just can't handle being
reminded of what you could have had.

Argh!

Come on, then, take a photo.
It'll last longer.

That's a figure of speech,
I didn't mean it!

Stop it, Mitchell! Sir?

I promise, it's me. Please?!

I've got to buy those guys 30 beers.

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