All language subtitles for Colins.Sandwich.1E03

Ripped By mstoll

Oh, rrr!

Ah, that's done it!

Never again!

No way!

No way.

I never should have
ordered so much food.

Shouldn't have had so much wine...

...or the cigars.

Shouldn't have come back
here for brandies afterwards.

The whole thing was a mistake!

Should never have stayed up.
The thing was...

Oh!

Oh, God!

I hate myself.

I hate my body and I...

...hate the way I feel.

Oh!

Well...

today's the day!

I am cutting out completely now!

No more booze.

No more takeaways.

No more cheap tavernas.

I am staying home
and eating healthy!

Right...

I'm going down the park now.

Blow the cobwebs out.
If you had any sense you'd do the same.

Fair enough.

If you want to die by the time you're 40,
that's fine with me.

Right...

...plan for today.

I think I'll stay here for a bit.

Then I'll stay here for a bit longer.

And if I'm not doing anything else
this afternoon I might...

bung me arse down here
for a couple of hours.

Mosey down to the kitchen about 3:30,
fix meself a cholesterol sandwich...

...wash it down with a nice
glass of Beaujolais and then...

...piss off to bed.

It wasn't a heart attack, Mr Watkins.

Blood pressure seems a little high,
which will explain the palpitations.

- Oh, thank God for that!
- How much do you drink?

Erm?

Oh...

A couple of glasses of wine
a day maybe.

Leave it out, Watkins - it's more
like three gin and tonics at lunch,

two litres of wine and a
treble port at dinner,

and just before bedtime you go
waterskiing in a vat of tequila.

What sort of exercise do you get?

Oh, don't worry.

Look, you've had a warning signal. I want you
to lay off the drink and rich food for a while.

Say, at least a fortnight.

Give yourself an incentive.

Treat yourself to a slap-up meal
at the end of it.

You'll feel better that way and you'll find
out if you've got the self-control to do it.

Yeah, but you see, friends and the people
I work with, you know, they like their drink.

You get invited to things.
It's difficult to opt out.

Bollocks! You'll be down the Feathers
at half past six with the rest of us?

Look, Trevor, I am serious about this.

If you get there before us,
get a kitty going, eh, Col?

Ten quid each should do it. I'm not
too sure how many are gonna turn up,

but I've booked a table for 65
at the Dragon Gate afterwards.

Col, are you coming to Stella's
leaving do tonight then?

- No.
- Yes, he is!

- You're not gonna let Stella down, are you?
- I've been trying to explain...

By the way, Bern's chartered a Rapide
from National to bring the Bletchley mob down.

- Now, what time did you book the Chinky for?
- Nine o'clock.

Should give us a chance to get well tanked up
before. Or should I make it ten o'clock?

Let's see, Steve's bringing a crate round
to the office, so we'll get some in then.

Yeah, pick up Sharon and her lot from
the wine bar, so we'll have a few there.

Then there's the Feathers,
the Coach and Horses.

- A couple of hours in there minimum.
- What about the Red Lion?

- The Red Lion, I forgot!
- What about the Chamber music recital?

Better make the Chinky 10:30
to be on the safe side, Trev.

Yep! I don't know about you, but I am
gonna do some serious booze tonight.

Don't forget to sign this, Col.

Ah, Colin...

A word.

- I feel dreadful about this whole thing.
- Oh?

Well, you see, I can't make it to this party of
Stella's tonight and I'm feeling a wee bit guilty.

- I didn't go to her wedding reception either.
- Don't worry. I don't think I'll be going either.

Oh. I was rather hoping you were.

I tell you what, Colin, if you do go
and show a face on my behalf...

- Yes?
- It'd be a hell of a weight off my mind.

Thanks, Colin. By the way,
very glad to hear about your laying off.

At last somebody round
here's got a bit of sense.

Who the hell is Stella, anyway?

Half of Pernod and lemonade.
Maxine's gang, Guinnesses.

I've got Gloria and Debs
down for Ruddles.

- No, no, no. They're Castlemaine XXXX.
- Right. Bern's lot, four Bacardis.

Colin, pint of special. Eddie and the Bashers,
five Carlsbergs and a rum and black.

And 29 packets of crisps.

Malcolm and Viv, two pints of L�wenbr�u.

Oi! Trevor! Trevor,
I don't want a pint of special!

Right. Gary, Guinness. Sandra's team,
Taylor Walkers all round. Now what's up, Col?

I want an orange and Perrier water!

Col, don't piss me about.
The bloke's waiting.

Look, I mean it.
I want an orange and Perrier water.

- What's he on about?
- Look! I do actually want a soft drink.

It's a relatively simple concept
to grasp, you know.

- You are serious, aren't you?
- Yes!

- Right, you can get it yourself!
- Yeah!

- Right now, where were we?
- Bloody poof!

Oi, listen, Col! You're having
this whether you like it or not.

Delightful. Wha-hey,
I'm having such a good time!

I really must do this again.

Oh, Colin, if you're not doing
anything after work tomorrow night,

do pop in for a spot of
purgatory on your way home.

So which one's Stella, then?

I'm just itching to meet
this girl from accounts,

who's had 50p off me
for a wine decanter from Argos

and is going to spend the rest of her
life in a Wimpey home in Basingstoke.

Oi, Trevor! Trevor!

What's up, Col? Don't tell me -
time for your Horlicks, is it?

Yeah! Which one is Stella?

- Stella?
- Stella who's having this do.

Oh, Stella couldn't make it.
Oi, your glass is empty!

Right, that's done it!

No-one is gonna be bulldozing me
into another evening like this again.

If she can't be fagged to make it, then
they're certainly not going to miss me.

Oi, Col, where are you going?

Do you want to go in front?

Well, that's one less
Granny Smith in the world.

9:30pm and still stone-cold sober.

How does it feel, Watkins?

Well, different, I grant you.

The fact I'd sell my mother to the Khmer Rouge
for a gin and tonic and a packet of peanuts

is neither here nor there.

Ah, that'll be Des. I wonder what
intoxicating delights he's brought tonight?

More Perrier? Malvern Hills?
Highland Spring?

Naturally Carbonated
Himalayan Foothills water?

Antarctic Glacier Pack-ice water,

bottled at source with a zest of kiwi fruit?

Hi, Col. Grab these! Mind, they're still hot.

Some berk told me
the half-time score, by the way.

Des, what is this?

Whole crispy Peking duck and pancakes -
watch out, the sauce is leaking.

Hang on, hang on, hang on!

I did ask for one large pork shish and one
large lamb, but I think he's given us two mixed.

Extra chillies, of course. Right, won't be
a moment, the booze is still in the car.

No, Des, Des! Stop, stop!
I thought we were cutting this out.

Yeah, but it's the England game.
We can start again tomorrow.

Look, it's black or white, Des, eh?

You either cut out completely
or you don't.

I mean, you don't semi
go on hunger strike, do you?

You don't kind of become a Trappist monk.

You don't sort of die.

I didn't think you'd be so obsessive
about the whole thing.

Oh, hang on, hang on!
Who was badgering whom the other day?

Bit difficult to follow your moods at times.
I'll bung out the Tarot cards in future.

- I shelled out 20 quid for this lot.
- Here's my half.

I don't want your money. I didn't mean that.
Look, I made a boo-boo. It's better if I go.

- Look, I don't want you to go.
- You're absolutely right, Col.

I've got it wrong. You're
sticking to the rules.

I thought we could bend them a little
just for this evening. It's easier if I go.

There we are.

- It's not on, me scoffing this lot in front of you.
- You're annoyed, aren't you?

Honestly, I'm not.
I said, you're absolutely right.

Look, I'll give you a buzz tomorrow and we'll
sort something out for the weekend, all right?

Des, Des...
you're sure about this, yeah?

Col, I'm fine. Fine.

Oh, hell! Is it worth it?

Yes! I mean, just one week
and you're looking better already.

You've got to hang in there.

Just think, next Saturday, one week from
now, we'll be in there - in Le Gavroche,

with that menu staring you in the face.

And you'll enjoy it all the more,
because you'll have earned it.

- Jen, I've changed my mind.
- Oh, Colin!

I'm going to start with the langoustines
and then have the guinea fowl.

Half bottle of Chablis and a litre
of Chateauneuf-du-Pape to go with it.

Now, what about Sunday?
Have we got it worked out yet?

Sunday, let's have a look.

Erm...

9:30 - Guinness and steak breakfast
at the Fox and Anchor, Smithfield.

10:45 - Coffee and croissants
at Louis's Patisserie.

11:30 - Jazz brunch
at the Portman Intercontinental.

What about the happy hour at the Bombay
Brasserie? That's twelve till one!

Oh, no! What are we gonna do?

Why don't we go to the jazz brunch
for half an hour,

do the happy hour at the Bombay Brasserie
and they go back again?

Jen - that's inspired!

- Hang on. I'm worried!
- What about?

Well, the taxi journey.
It's 20 minutes there and back.

- Oh, my God! I hadn't thought of that.
- I'll tell you what...

I'll arrange for an intravenous drip
of champagne on the way there

and a nose-bag of
rum truffles on the way back.

Oh, God, I can't wait!

Now, be honest,
how do you feel at the moment?

That is the whole point of the exercise,
isn't it? You must feel a bit better.

Oh, I suppose I do.

- Tough going at the start, though?
- Ha, tough going?!

Every corpuscle in my body
is screaming for gratification.

Do I get any moral support? Klaus Barbie
got more when he turned up at Lyon airport.

That pack of Vikings at work
and old Des huffing and puffing.

I can't win. The only way to get through
is lock myself away for a week

- and take the phone off the hook.
- Oh?

Oh, what?

- It's just... Well, Thursday.
- What about Thursday?

- Well, you know, Vincent's.
- Eh?

I said we'd go. I mean, there's another couple
from the office coming. He's laying on a buffet.

Jen, I can't!

He's gone and got the caterers in -
I mean, you know what he's like.

He'll have everything organised
down to the last vol-au-vent.

- Oh, no! Not you as well, please!
- Oh, just Thursday. It's so important!

He's even ordered a crate of that
sloe gin you like so much, specially.

I don't believe it!
Does anybody out there understand?

And don't forget, afterwards, is the ice-cream
and pizza-eating contest I've entered you for.

Ah, well, that is absolutely unbelievable!

I mean, I... I...

You thought you had me going then,
didn't you?

Yes.

"The wind whistled over
the reedy banks of the estuary.

No wreckage,
no survivors, no mourners.

Just a lone gull, pecking away
slowly at an empty mussel shell."

No, no, no!

"A couple of gulls...

...nibbling away...

at the rotting remains...

of a spider-crab." Yeah.

Nah, nah.

"A flock of gannets...

...swooped overhead...

and devoured the rotting remains of..."

No, no.

"A squadron of bald eagles

plummeted through the air and sank
theirjagged beaks into the rank,

decomposing carcass
of a washed-up sea lion."

Oh!

"Suddenly, the sky blackened

as a crazed Luftwaffe of vultures

nose-dived and ransacked the vast,

fetid, blubbering expanse

of a beached sperm whale.

In a merciless frenzy, they plunged
their skulls into its cavernous stomach,

now reverberating with the
echoes of theirjaws snapping

and gobbets of flesh
being sucked and torn."

Oh, God! I'm so hungry!

Bugger the langoustines, Jen!
It's the lobster, no contest.

You know what else drove me bananas
at three o'clock in the morning?

- The rack of lamb with truffles.
- Not my naked body then?

Who would have thought it? I whole fortnight,
eh? I'd never have done it without you.

You are my coach, my mentor.

- You know what you are, don't you?
- What?

A brick.

I don't quite know what to say.

- Ignore it. Come on, cheers!
- No. No, no.

I want to savour this moment.
I'll get rid of them. Hang on.

Colin, what's the matter?
What's happened?

St... St...

St... Stuart...
Stuart and Rosemary.

Shit!

- It's this weekend. I'd forgotten.
- So had I.

Oh, look, couldn't we tell them you're
working, or the car needs servicing,

or I've got cancer or something?

Look, we've put them off
four times this year already.

There's no way out. We've got to go.

I left him on the floor for two minutes,

and when I came back he'd rolled
all the way over to the video recorder

and pressed the rewind button,

which, according to the books, is something
he shouldn't do until 12 months.

Not bad for eight and a half months!

The health visitor said we were going
to have a fast-grower on our hands.

- He's got your eyes, Stuart.
- Oh, do you think so?

Yes, Rosemary thinks he looks like me.
I think he looks more like Rosemary.

I think he looks like
the Ayatollah Khomeini.

Look, there's a yawn.

Ooh, I'll get on the phone to Reuters!

- Amazing, he's been right out since three.
- Not a peep.

Probably dead.

- Joshua's a nice name.
- It was a toss-up between Joshua or Daniel.

- Yes, we love those old Testament names.
- Isaac's nice.

- Joseph.
- Nebuchadnezzar.

Good Lord, Colin,
that's a mouthful if ever there was.

Oh, by the way did you
get our September bulletin?

- Erm?
- Yes.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Well, believe it or not,
the nanny-hunt still goes on.

It's been murder.
Some are wanting �30 a week.

The last one was a bit of a disaster.

We had to get rid of her in the end.
Stuart caught her using the phone.

And the wretched girl
wanted a bath every day!

Anyway, that's enough talk of us.

What are you doing with
yourself these days, Colin?

- Colin?
- Hmm.

- Pardon? Yes, mm.
- What's all your news, then?

Ah, I'm still working at, you know,
Passenger Relations at good old BR.

Yes.

Actually, the writing side's
looking up a bit cos...

- Oh, look, Jenny! He's smiling.
- Oh, so he is.

- What's that, darling?
- Look.

Cos I'm doing some short stories
at the moment and...

Some people say it's just wind.

I'm also doing a bit of
elephant hunting in the Zambezi.

Well, the books say it's wind, but we
reckon he's been smiling since two weeks.

Oh, yes, and I've been doing a bit
of Andes-pummelling as well.

Mind you, they all contradict each other.

What I do is,
I fly out to a mountain range.

I jump out of the plane
and I start boxing with it, you see.

Yes, well, beddy-bo-bo's
time, don't you think?

I do hope you won't mind, you two, but
I think we'll put Joshua back in his room now.

They can dominate the evening
if you're not too careful.

No, no, no, darling. Joshua makes
that grizzling sound when he's bored.

Yes, but there's a special sort of bored
grumble when he's had his food,

but he's not sure whether he wants more
or whether he just wants attention.

A refill, a refill, my kingdom for a refill.

A child's got to cry his quota, anyway.
The sounder they sleep at night,

the more they'll make up for it
during the day.

Stuart, two weeks I've been waiting!
Give me a top-up, please!

Preferably before Halley's
Comet comes round again.

So, the birth worked out all right then?

It was fine. Initially, I was against having
an epidural - in fact, any form of drugs.

Don't they drink theirs? I mean, what are
they doing? Waiting for the wine to evaporate?

So, all in all, four hours' labour
really wasn't too bad for a first time.

Better than the seven hours
I've been through.

Some go for 36, apparently.

Did anyone give me an epidural?

But that's exceptional...

Oh, when's he going to open that bottle?

It's been standing there all evening.
This is torture.

Deliberate, calculated torture.

Forget Nicaragua, Amnesty International ought
to shift their arses down here for a weekend.

I hope you've had enough to eat.
I'm sorry, I forgot you two don't like offal.

- I'll try and remember next time.
- Well, the sauce was quite nice though.

There are satsumas,
if anyone's still hungry.

No, I don't think you can
generalise about births...

I don't believe it-
he's going to open the port.

Yes, yes! Yes, heading
down the home straight.

He's got his hand out. He's reaching
for it. He's got it in his hand.

Their tongues are hanging out.
The crowd are jumping up and down!

Now, shall we have the port or not?

- No. Only give us a head in the morning.
- Aaaaaagggghh!!

Right, come on.
Down the pub, everyone!

- What?
- No, no, no, no, no! I absolutely insist.

It's been a lovely evening,
but this is our treat.

- No buts!
- The only trouble is Joshua.

You go along, Stuart. I've had
enough to drink. Go on, enjoy yourself.

- Are you sure, darling?
- Oh, but that's not fair.

Yes, it is!

Look, you've got to have
some licensing laws, Colin.

- Why?
- That was quick.

We didn't make it in time.

- If there weren't any licensing laws...
- Yes?!

Well, there'd be too much drinking.

Besides, the tourists find it all rather quaint,
part of our heritage. But it's British.

Uh-oh!

British, yes!

- The good old British pub.
- It's the envy of the world.

Yes, yes, of course it is! D'you hear that?

- What?
- The sound of thundering feet.

I don't hear anything.

Thousands of people
stampeding across Europe.

They're charging out of the
wine cellars of Burgundy,

they're dashing their goblets
to the ground in the ch�teau's of the Loire,

they're aborting the Munich Beer Festival
and chucking their suckling pigs into the Rhine.

The entire Continent is pouring over
the cliffs of Calais like lemmings.

Thrashing across the Channel
towards us, so that they can wait

for three and a half hours outside
in the car park of the Horse and Fart

on Sunday afternoon for their half
of warm Worthington and a Cornish pasty.

Good old Britain! Yes, we know best.
The shrine of civilisation. Eh? Eh?

I bet the Home Office is inundated with letters
every day from bar owners in Benidorm,

nightclub managers in Corfu
and Dutch car ferry captains,

just clamouring for more of our
quaint little British ways and customs.

Special request, please, for more Morris
dancing from the chief steward,

Heysel Stadium, Brussels.

I'll put the kettle on.

I mean, at least if the water had
come out of the tap cold to begin with,

but, no, no, it has to wait
till I'm in there, doesn't it?

You've told me.
You can have my bath tomorrow.

End up lying there
like a walrus washed up on a beach,

your buttocks lying in tepid puddles.

I mean, what do they heat
their tank with - a candle?

- I understand, Colin.
- No, you don't. You don't understand!

Nobody understands. I'm the only person
in the world who's ever had a tepid bath.

Look, would you turn
the light out, please?

Stuffed dummies.
That's what we are, aren't we?

We drive 125 miles all the
way down to bloody Dorchester

just to sit there and be talked at
like a vaguely animate pile of flesh

hired for the weekend
to be pummelled into oblivion.

If it's just our physical
presence they want,

why don't we just send them
a lock of hair or a urine sample?

I mean, that way they wouldn't have to feed
us, would they? Feed us? Feed us? Ha!

A canary would come away
from this place looking emaciated.

Look, it'll all be over tomorrow afternoon.

Remind me to ring Norris McWhirter
on Monday morning, would you?

Tell him I've made half a glass
of Liebraumilch last 17 hours.

Be quiet. If you don't shut up, I'm
going to suffocate you with this pillow.

Yes, all right. I'm finished,
I'm finished, I'm finished.

God, I wonder what they've got
in store for us tomorrow morning?

They'll be buzzing around the kitchen, won't
they, going, "Yes, let's go out in the garden!"

Why do they do it?

Why do they keep inviting us down?

I mean, why in God's name
do they insist on keeping in touch?

Because we were at university together.

Correction. He happened to live in room 148.

I had the crippling misfortune
to live in room 149.

Why do they keep pursuing us? We've
got nothing in common. Absolutely nothing.

Other than that we breathe oxygen
and we've got British passports.

It's so predictably depressing,
isn't it?

They come down to college from their
restrained little middle-class backwaters.

Let off the leash for the first time,
they go through their little "hip" charade.

Stuart Fletcher - used to
bung up posters of Che Guevara,

wiggle his bottom a bit at the Status Quo
concert and three years later, yes,

back like a homing pigeon, filling in the BUPA
forms and ferreting out good schools

- to send his battery-fed chickens to!
- Sssh!

And they're both solicitors.
Can you imagine it?

Two solicitors living together
under the same roof. It's obscene!

What an environment to grow up in. That
poor child is going to be an emotional retard.

Or a solicitor.

They don't want friends.
They want social scatter cushions.

Life is a matter of form
for them, isn't it?

We come down to them,
they come up to us -

twice a year, regularly as clockwork, until one
of us throws a spanner in the works by dying.

- Everyone OK in there?
- Fine, thanks!

Only a few hours left. My God, I shall never
have been so glad to see the M3 in my life.

Thanks again for staying on
to help us clear out the septic tank.

I had no idea it'd be so smelly.

How's the cut, Colin?

Oh, it's nothing. It was just a piece
of jagged glass and rusty barbed wire.

Are you sure you two
can't stay on for supper?

We've still got some of that boiled
chicken left over from lunch.

No, no, no, Colin and Jenny
have got to get back.

The South Circular can be murder
if you leave it too late.

Listen, we hope we'll get up to
London some time in December.

- Fancy getting the diaries out?
- Stuart... Wait.

Rosemary, can I just say something?

Look, erm, I don't quite know
how to go about this,

but, anyway, I've been mulling things over

and I think what the four of us have got here
is an acquaintance rather than a friendship.

It was circumstances that brought us together
rather than any common interests as such.

And if we're all totally
frank with each other,

we've got clashing attitudes
and different life styles

that make these get-togethers
really rather awkward.

I mean, please don't get me wrong.

I don't want you to think that Colin and I
aren't appreciative of you having us to stay,

but I think it would make things a
lot easier if we just skipped the pretence

and dropped the whole
thing altogether.

Colin and I will leave now and none of us
need contact each other ever again.

Well, I, erm...

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant!
Jen, you even took me by surprise then!

- What?!
- Well, it's a scream.

It's this new game we're playing. It's called
"put the cat amongst the pigeons".

- What you talking about?
- We're playing it all the time at the moment.

I did it at work the other day. I pretended
to my boss I was going to hand in my notice

and he nearly choked on his cup-a-soup!

It's great. It's basically to sort of see
what people's reactions would be.

It's amazing! Amazing! You should
have seen your face, Rosemary.

I wish... I wish I had a camera! I do!

It's a stunner, isn't it? Yeah. Anyway, Stuart's
right. Yeah, time to get the diaries out.

Ripped By mstoll