All language subtitles for Colins.Sandwich.1E02

Ripped By mstoll

Rome - 95.

Madrid - 89.

Hamburg - 92.

Amsterdam - 87.

Paris - 91.

Moscow - 73.

London...

40.

More rain fell on Kilburn yesterday afternoon
than on the entire Amazon rainforest.

It rained yesterday,
it rained the day before yesterday.

It's raining today and you can
bet your life it'll be raining tomorrow.

Yeah, the worst summer
since 1832, they reckon.

Test match has been rained off.
Ascot's been rained off.

Wimbledon's been rained off.
Even the bloody snooker's been rained off!

They say we're in for an Indian summer.
No thank you very much.

If it's going to be lousy and stinking
let it go the whole hog.

I don't want any last-minute sweeteners.
I don't want to be patronised.

Typical of this country, isn't it?
Small bits of happiness.

Pleasure with strings attached.

Pubs open some of the time.
Sunny intervals!

By all means get out your bikini
and go down the park for a picnic,

but don't forget to read the small-print where
it says we reserve the right to piss on you.

Sunny intervals? Bastards!

I'm sorry, sir, I can't pass your complaint
on to the area manager, he's on holiday.

'When will that colleague of yours be back?

I've never been treated
like that in all my life! '

Well, he's out at lunch.
He should be back any moment.

Trevor! Trevor, where have you been? You went
at one o'clock. It's nearly half-past four!

What is this,
a borstal or something?

I just think three and a half hours
for lunch is a bit over the top, that's all.

You left me here on my own, and
what is this business with Mr Davis?

I'm not speaking to him.
I've had that toss-pot up to here.

'I heard that! '
Look, look...

'Why don't you just shoot us? Throw us
on to the tracks and have done with it? '

Look, is there anything I can do to help?

'Now listen, 20 years I've been
a prisoner of your vindictive regime -

week-in, week-out, enduring strikes,
price increases, delays,

cancellations, abuse,
contempt, indifference

and the one single occasion,
and I mean once,

because I've never complained before,
that I call up with a legitimate complaint

in the hope of getting
a reasonable hearing,

I come across this thug who is
obviously hell-bent on destroying

the last vestige of self-respect
that I've managed to cling on to! '

Excuse me, sir,
what exactly is your complaint?

He says the trains are too comfortable.

He what?!

Dozed off in his seat and overslept his stop.
He reckons there's too much padding in 'em.

'You used to have good,
firm, solid, honest seats.

If I'd wanted a sag-bag, I'd have stayed
at home. I want the manager now! '

- Well, I am the supervisor and I...
- 'Supervisor? Pah!

You mean jumped-up clerk who
just probably organises the tea-break.

- I want the manager! '
- I said he won't be back until tomorrow!

Oh, Col, erm... Those two weeks leave I got
booked for the end of July, are they still OK?

- Erm...
- Eh? That's when I go on holiday.

- No, no, no! Col knows about this.
- Look...

- This means war, you know!
- No, no! I asked in November.

If I don't get my two weeks at
the end of July, there'll be blood.

Col, didn't I or did I not ask in November?

- Er, you did mention something, yeah.
- Is this a wind-up or something?

- But I've gone and booked my holiday!
- You can't both go on leave at the same time.

Look, I'm sorry Trevor Blacklock gets
the last two weeks of July, every year.

- Colin knows it. Travers knows it.
- No, no, no... The point is...

I'm not into seniority, but I'm not going
to sit here and be intimidated by these two.

It's time to solve this
with a quick, surgical decision.

Look...

Give me the weekend.
I'll try and sort something out, OK?

- What's the point of asking in the first place?
- Gentlemen.

Ah, Mr Travers.
Didn't expect you back till Monday.

Oh, just thought I'd pop in on my way back
from the airport and see how things are.

Well, nice to have you back, Mr Travers.
Hope you had a good holiday.

Ah...

I'm sorry to burden you straight away,

but, you see, Trevor's put in for his annual
leave exactly the same time as Graham.

I know there's a rule about not two members
of staff being on leave at the same time...

- Bali, Colin.
- Pardon?

Bali.

- Get there. Before it's too late.
- Right.

From sunrise, when the maid came
and scattered orange blossom on our bed,

to sundown, when we'd just sat at
the beach bar and watched the waves

wash away the footprints we'd left in
the sand, I felt a new human being.

- And you know something, Colin?
- Yes, Mr Travers?

There were a couple of times
when I actually forgot this place existed.

I see.

Look, I know it's a bit mundane, but couldn't we
get this Trevor and Graham thing sorted out?

Next week, Colin, please.
I'm not officially here at the moment.

The office is running to seed a bit,
don't you think?

Don't be afraid to pull rank
from time to time.

Ciao!

On the day I leave this place,
if I ever leave this place,

I'm going to take Travers at the
dead of night into a dark alleyway...

pin him up against the wall...

and be sarcastic to him.

"Bathed in the half-light of a wicked moon,

across the stagnant
blackness of the lily pond,

the flotilla steered its silent
and terrible course.

First, the torso,
like some rank and terrible galleon,

then a forearm, cutting the water,
putrid and relentless;

in its wake, a hand, a leg,

and, to one side,
marooned on an isle of reeds,

a buttock...

white and menacing...

surpassing the moon
with its evil crescent.

Yet more terrible and sinister
still was the silence.

Pregnant and enveloping.

No rustling leaves. No whistling wind.

No mortal sound.

Nothing.

Just the muted,
muffling shroud of death."

Ah... Hello.

- Colin? '
- Ah, hello, Jen.

'Fancy a game of tennis tomorrow? A couple
of guys at work have asked me to play.'

- Er, what time?
- I've booked the court for 11:30.

You can forget that for a start!

Colin, just for once try hauling your body
out of bed before the football results.

Look, I haven't played in years.

Well, it doesn't matter. We just need
someone to make up the numbers.

- Oh, all right.
- Right. I'll pick you up at 11:00 then.

- Oh, yeah, sure.
- Bye.

I wonder if Boris Becker ever gets
asked to make up the numbers?

Oh, look at this! This is no good!
Watkins, it's going to have to go!

Look at it! A pile of clich�s.

A heap of second-hand, jaded images.

You're getting stale, Watkins! Dried up!

Good Lord, it's stopped raining.

Ah, it's a waste of time.

I see you got the picnic then.

Look at the bastard cloud lurking there.

Colin, you've forgotten the suckling pig.

- Sorry.
- What are you looking at?

- The weather. It's not going to hold.
- Don't be ridiculous, the weather's fine.

No, it's not. Come here. Come here.

Look at that.

One cloud.

Ah, but there's another one just behind it,
you see, and another one just behind that.

Yeah, they're all ganging up,
waiting for us to make our move.

Colin, we're late. I told Sacha
we'd be there at quarter past.

It's so inevitable, it's depressing.

They're coming this way. I can see it.

Why doesn't she see it?
I feel like a soothsayer in Ancient Rome.

Nobody believes you.

It's unbelievable!

Yep.

Are we ever going to get a summer?

Nope!

I mean, trust it to pour
the moment we step out on court.

Yeah, it's a bitch, isn't it?

Well, you've enjoyed yourself today,
haven't you?

Well, gotta make the best of a bad job, Jen.

You know what we need? A holiday.

- What?!
- Yeah, get out of this weather for a bit.

Some people at work are getting a villa.
Fortnight in Portugal at the end of July.

There's still a double room left.

Ah, no, no.

You haven't taken your annual leave yet,
have you?

Oh, I don't know.
I'm just not in the mood this year.

OK, stew then! Summer's lousy,
so you stew in it.

You'll go back to that job on Monday
and stew in that.

You don't even want to make a break,
do you?

Oh, not this again. I will not get lured
into this argument again.

Stand firm, Watkins.

You've gone for fourjob interviews
in seven years.

- Five.
- Four!

Five! It's like a cattle market.
"Oh, do come in, Mr Watkins. Sit down.

Would you like a cup of coffee while we tear
your personality to shreds for an hour or so?"

- You've got to sell yourself.
- Why? Why? For what?

To join a buffalo stampede for some
piddling sub-editorship on a local rag?

It doesn't end there, cos once you've
been sub-editor then you want to be editor,

then you want to be chief editor, managing
director, chairman of the board, God!

- It doesn't stop.
- The writing's not exactly taking off, is it?

- Well, it's not my fault, is it?
- Yes!

Take the very first story you wrote,
just before our finals.

Instead of revising for her Chaucer paper,

muggins here, spends four hours
in a refuse barrel

trying to retrieve it for
the college magazine.

And what happened? They thought it was
brilliant - a bit smelly, but brilliant.

Look, I can't fight all your battles for you.

- Have you thought about branching out a bit?
- What do you mean?

Well, don't confine yourself
to the same stuff all the time.

Do a review, a travel piece or something,
increase your options.

Hold on. You write what you want to write.

Beethoven didn't have somebody nagging on
at him to branch out all the time, did he?

"Come on, Ludwig, what about a
sea shanty for a change?" I mean, really!

- Look, I'm going!
- It's all right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to snap.
I'm sorry. I don't know...

I feel sort of stodgy at the moment.
I need to sort of change gear.

That's all the more reason
why we should go on holiday.

- Oh, what's the point?
- What do you mean, "What's the point?"

You know what it's like, these two weeks
away lark? Five days to get acclimatised,

three days to get over the sunburn,

then those two marvellous days when
you do relax and it suddenly dawns on you,

you're in a place which has got good food,
constant sunshine and no licensing laws,

and then you've got to start thinking about
coming home again! I'm sorry, no!

No, I am not gonna spend �400 to remind
myself how sodding awful this place is.

Absurd notion!

Brilliant idea. Change of scene.
Just what we need.

Ah! Now...

Let's see. "Portuguese food, like
Portuguese wine, tastes of the land itself,

exuding a scent of lemon blossom,
sea breeze and brilliant sunshine,

all collected in an almond shell."

Just like Kilburn.

Ah! Oh, I can't wait.
I'm gonna put in for leave tomorrow.

Leave! Trevor and Graham.
How am I gonna sort that out?

There's only one way. Neither of them
will get it. I'll get it instead. Yeah, yeah.

It's about time they realised
that old Watkins has got a bit of spunk.

That somewhere beneath the placid waters,
deep down in the murky ocean trench,

there's a barracuda with
one hell of an axe to grind.

Yes, I'm rather looking forward to this.

Right, you two. Now, about this
leave you've both putting in for...

Look, Col, Graham and me have been thinking
it over. We were a bit selfish on Friday.

- If anyone should have first choice, it's you.
- Yeah, you haven't had a holiday in ages, Col.

We went over the top a bit. You tell us when
you want to go, mate, we'll fit in with your plans.

Sure.

Hello, Jen?

Colin, I've got a meeting at the moment.

Yeah, it won't take long. Just to say
I've changed my mind. I will come.

- 'Where? '
- Portugal. That villa thing.

- I've got two weeks off.
- I've sort of gone cold on the Portugal idea.

- Jason doesn't like it.
- Well, Jason's not coming with us!

We've got to do the whole thing from scratch.
New soundtrack, new visuals, the lot.

- Is anybody there?
- 'Sorry, Colin, what were you saying? '

- I was talking about Portugal.
- 'What? '

It's a skinny little country
on the edge of Spain.

There are so many places I want to see.
Portugal isn't top of the list at the moment.

All right. What about the Greek Islands?
You said you've never been.

- OK, two minutes.
- I was thinking more of two weeks, actually.

I'll tell you what, I'll get some brochures
after work. Come round about seven.

- I'll cook a Greek meal or something.
- OK, I'll be round at seven. I must go. Bye.

Yeah...

- You fixed up a holiday then, Col?
- Yes, yes. Greece, I think.

- One of the islands, perhaps.
- Corfu, mate. That's where you want to go.

There's a bar in the harbour where
all the Leicester City fans meet.

No, no, no, that's where the Shed go.
Paxos is Leicester City.

- Are you sure?
- Oh, yeah.

Ah, what's next?

"Sprinkle chicken pieces with lemon juice
and oregano." Yep, done that.

"Add wine and chicken stock.

One teaspoon powdered cinnamon."
Powdered cinnamon, powdered cinnamon.

"And one clove garlic and one onion
finely chopped." Right.

Now, "Place chicken pieces
in the yoghurt mix...

And leave to marinade overnight."

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Oh!

We've got to eat something.

What have we got here?
What have we got? What's this?

Seafood lasagne. Mm.

"Serves two."

Two what? Stick insects?

Oh, I don't think I could
face kebabs again tonight. Mm...

Right, anyway, let's
see what we're going to do here.

Right!

So where's it going to be then?

Let's have a look at Spetsai.
Oh, that doesn't look bad.

"This comfortable one-room apartment
commands a stunning view of the sea

and is only two minutes' walk
from shops and tavernas.

The block is run by
Takis Valkidis, a friendly..."

They're always friendly, aren't they?

You never here of Takis Valkidis, a raving
psychopath who loathes foreigners

and whose six kids take it
in shifts to drive their mopeds

up and down outside your balcony all night.

Oh, it does look nice. Oh, hell, that's it!

Why waste time agonising?
No need to look any further.

Apartments Valkidis,
Spetsai, here we come!

I don't understand. I thought
you wanted to go on holiday together.

I do. I just don't fancy
Greeking it this year.

"Greeking it"? I love these buzz-words.

Well, we've decided we're definitely
not going to "Portugal it",

"Switzerlanding it" is obviously
out of the question,

and as for "Central African Republicing it",
I mean, the price is a joke.

I just want to do something different.

I'm sick and tired of getting sand
in my bottom year after year.

Mm, well, like what?

Well, Miles Clavedon's going on a lecture tour
of Egypt at the end of the month

and he's asked me to go -
you too, if you want.

- A lecture tour?
- Mm, Egyptian history.

We visit the sights, we have lectures
and we're accompanied by a professor.

I suppose we have to sit an exam
at the end, do we?

Of course, and if you fail it, you don't
leave Egypt till you get it right.

Look, it's called a "special interest" tour.

How about giving the mind
a change of scene as well?

- No, thank you.
- No...

You just want to spend two weeks rotting
under a sunshade, reading yesterday's papers,

stuffing your face at mealtimes

and then spending ten hours a night
snoring like a whale in your hotel room.

- What's wrong with that?
- Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.

- We'll go our separate ways, then.
- What?

Well, why not? We're only going to get on
each other's nerves. It's only for two weeks.

That's marvellous, innit?
You bludgeon me into going on holiday.

- Now you want to send me into exile.
- Go with a friend for a change.

All right, I will! I will.
If that's what you want.

If that's the way she wants it.
Separate ways, then.

So who do I go with?

It's got to be the right person.
Someone who's good company, easy-going.

Someone who's in the holiday mood.

This last week has been sheer,
utter, unmitigated,

undiluted, unbearable, unequivocal hell.

No, hell would have been a holiday.

"Liaise with the housing estate leaders,"
they say!

How can you liaise with someone who's just
chucked himself out of a 13th-floor window?

"Try and keep up with
the remand reports."

You try and keep up with remand reports
while your office is burning.

You couldn't take the clingfilm off before you
toast it, could you? Want a drink, Des?

There I was, going through the "M" to "Rs"
and I hear crackling.

I look out the window, I see smoke.
I open the door, I see flames.

And why hasn't the alarm gone off?
Because it's been vandalised.

And who vandalised it? Me, because those
bloody louts kept setting them off all day.

- No, no, hang on! Hang on!
- I really don't know. Lord knows.

Nervous breakdown?
Haven't got time for one.

Look, if it's getting you down that much,
why don't you come on this holiday?

What?

I said, why don't you come on this holiday
I was telling you about?

I don't suppose you'd remember.
It was at least five minutes ago.

Holiday? Holiday?

Look, Col, no offence, but you breeze
into work, plonk your arse in an easy chair,

shuffle a bit of paper about,
go home and forget all about it.

I have to live my job - I go to work
with my job, I go back with my job,

I have supper with it, we watch
TV together, we go to bed together.

Well, bloody go on holiday together then!

You seriously expect me just
to drop everything like that?

Just waltz out of the office
and leave them to...

Oh, what's the use? Wait a minute, why do I
need to have someone to go on holiday with?

Why don't I just go on my own? Yes, what
is this obsession about having company?

Let's have a twosome, a threesome, a
foursome. Let's get a chalet together, a villa,

a Land Rover, a minibus. Let's get 20 of us
and squeeze into a lift for a fortnight.

Perhaps the Black Hole of Calcutta's still
got some spaces left the first week of August?

Hell, even singles holidays mean
you're just shoved into some room

along with a bunch of football hooligans who'll
knife you if you don't urinate off the balcony.

No, thank you.
Colin is going on his tod.

Room to meself,
me own patch on the beach.

A little corner of the Aegean reserved
exclusively for Colin Watkins and his lilo.

Oh, why didn't I think of it before? That's
settled it. Best decision I've made in ages.

- OK, I'll come.
- What?

You're right. It's so easy to get caught up
in things, you tend to lose perspective.

- Now, you're sure you want me to come?
- Ah, yes, yes, of course.

Idiot, Watkins! Tell him "no"!

- Cos I can back out now if you want.
- No, I don't want you to back out.

I do! I do!

Thanks, Col!

Eh, I need somebody
to jog me out of things. Now...

For God's sake, nip it in the bud.
Tell him "no" now!

Tell you what, I'll nip down to the agents first
thing tomorrow when they open at 9:00...

I've got to be ruthless.
It's my only holiday.

No, I'll make a thermos of coffee
and I'll get down there at 8:30,

just to be on the safe side. Now, they'll
probably prefer to have cash for the deposit...

Des, Des! I'm sorry.
I've changed my mind. Erm...

I don't want you to come with me.
I want to go on my own.

Fair enough! Miss!
Can I have two pints over here, please?

Right.

Passport, ticket.

Ticket, passport.

Now where the hell has that cab gone to?

I bet they've forgotten. I should
never have booked it so far in advance.

I'd better ring and check.

Oh, no! Which one was it?

Medway Cabs? West London Radio Cabs?

Pronto Cars?
Cheetah 24-hour Super Taxis?

Jesus! Half of London
must work in this business.

There can't be enough passengers
to go round, surely.

Does this country produce things like doctors
and scientists and teachers any more?

Napoleon was wrong.
We're a nation of minicab drivers.

The economy will soon be in ruins.
Oh, well...

at least when the blokes
from the IMF come over to bail us out,

there'll be no shortage of people
to pick them up from the airport.

Oh! Ah, this is the one.

Come on!

Come on, you animals! Oh, hello.

The name's Watkins.
Yes, I had a cab booked for 5:30.

Yeah. Oh, it's on its way?
Great. I'll like to cancel it, please.

Oh, you are an angel, Jen.

- It was absurd cancelling that cab.
- Look, it would never have come, I know it.

Colin, we're running late.
Now get your stuff and let's get going.

- What?
- We haven't got much time. Let's go.

- What, leave?
- Yes.

- When?
- Now!

- But... I can't just go, can I?
- Why not?

Well, it's not that easy. I mean, there are things
to check. I can't just leave the place like that.

- What are you doing?
- Drawing the curtains.

- Why?
- So the burglars think I'm in.

What burglars?

Hordes of them out there waiting to storm
the flat as soon as I set foot outside.

I can't leave them drawn all day.

I mean, it'll be obvious.
It'll attract attention. Erm...

What should I do? Draw them?
Not draw them? Half draw them?

Stuff them into the pelmet? Fold them
into the shape of a giraffe? Jen, help me.

- Colin...
- Oh, Jen, Jen.

Would you sort of pop in several times
a day? Make the place look lived in.

Switch on a few lights, do a bit of talking,
wave your arms around in front of the window.

Ticket and passport? Passport
and ticket?! Have you seen the passport?

You've just given them to me for safekeeping.

They're not there! They're not there!

Oh, that's it, marvellous, isn't it?
No holiday - 400 quid down the drain!

Ah! Erm... you couldn't look after them
for me, could you?

I don't think I can take much more of this.
I'm going to wait in the car.

Right, right!

Right - lamps.

Amplifier.

TV and video.

'I, Claudius'!

I promised to record 'I, Claudius' for Des.
If he misses that, we'll never hear the end of it.

I don't like this, you know.
Leaving this lot plugged in for a fortnight.

Oh, it's typical, isn't it?

They come out with these contraptions
that do things while you're out of the house,

at the same time you've got the Public
Advisory Service and the Electricity Board

yelling at you not to leave things plugged in.
They want to make their bloody minds up!!

- We've got half an hour!
- Yes, I know, I know!

Sorry, Des!

Ah, hell, that's great, isn't it? Now, along
with the Diacalm and the suncream,

I've got two weeks' supply of guilt
to lug around with me.

I'm coming for Chrissake,
I'm coming!

What the hell is that doing there?

Oh, no! Don't tell me I just packed one of them.
It took me two hours to get this case shut!

Oh, God!

Come on, you bastard!
I'm sure I packed both of you.

Oh, God!!
It must be in here somewhere.

Oh, I'm gonna be the laughing stock
of the Greek Islands.

The only bloke hobbling around
on one flip-flop.

Have you got any idea
what's going on in here, woman?!!

- Be quiet. You'll wake the whole street up!
- I don't care! I don't care!

- I'm in a living hell up here!
- What's the matter now?

Everything - Des, videos, flip-flops...

Colin, I am getting into the car and taking
this bag to Heathrow without you.

O, God!

Now, was that everything?
Lamps, hi-fi, TV, video.

Relax- there's nothing to worry about.
Everything's in order.

Toast.

What?

- I had some toast this morning when I got up.
- Oh, congratulations.

- Did I switch the grill off?
- You want to go back and check?

Of course I switched it off.
I always switch it off.

Why should today be any different?

Because today you're going on holiday.

It's ridiculous. I'm acting like an idiot.
Jen, what are you doing?

- We're going back to check.
- Jen, drive on. I'm behaving like a child.

- Yes, but we're still going back to check.
- Jen, I won't worry about it. OK, I promise.

- Are you sure?
- I'm positive.

I've been a pain. OK, I'm gonna sit back
and relax and get in the holiday mood now.

Of course you switched the grill off.
You're being pathetic.

Pathetic!

Pathetic!

Absolutely pathetic!

This is infantile.

I'll get Des to go round and check.

Well, come on, Des. Answer.

Come on, Jen.

Where the hell is she?

Hello? Yeah, is that the Sun World rep?

Yeah, it's Colin Watkins here again.

You remember at the Bouzouki evening,

I was telling you I might have to go back
to London early on urgent business?

Yeah. Well, I've just had the phone call
from head office. Yeah.

Apparently, it's all systems go and they do
need someone to go back and turn the grill off.

Ah, sorry... Anyway,
I wonder if you could possibly, erm...

What do you call it, Watkins? Pathetic!

It's off!

Oh, shit!!!

Ripped By mstoll