All language subtitles for Colins.Sandwich.1E06

Ripped By mstoll

Look, I'm sorry.

'Do you people get kicks out
of this sort of thing? '

- If you could give me the details of...
- 'You skin us alive with your fare increases,

then you try to make
a laughing stock out of us.'

Yes, look, I am sorry, but...

'I practically remortgaged the house to pay for
the fare and then, halfway through the journey,

I found out there was a special offer.'

- If you could let me know...
- Thanks for telling us!

'The other passengers were in hysterics when
I told them how much I'd paid for my ticket.

There was this bloke in first class, stuffing
himself with champagne and smoked salmon,

who'd paid nothing, and his kids
and his wife had come free.'

- I can only help you if...
- 'Special offer? Ha! I spit on special offer! '

Please, sir, if you could just tell me
where and when you were travelling,

- I promise that I will look into this.
- 'Singapore, March 13th.'

- Singapore?
- 'Yes.'

This is... this is Passenger Relations,
British Rail.

'You're not British Airways? '

No.

'Then why the bloody hell have
you been wasting my time?! '

Looking forward to this afternoon, Colin?

Yeah, well, it'll be nice to get out,
Mr Travers, yeah.

Yes. Eurotunnel is upon us at last.

The English press will be there
and the French,

celebrities, a six-course meal.

It should be quite a bash. You know
how to get to the Waldorf from here?

Yeah, well, actually I've got a taxi
coming in five minutes.

There's nothing much to these marketing
dos, Colin. Just show your face.

Spread a bit of entente cordiale
and get stuck into the food.

Main thing is to enjoy yourself.

- Yes, thanks, Mr Travers.
- Right. Good lad.

Yeah, Old Watkins let off the leash
for once, eh? Yes, makes a change.

Nah, shouldn't be much to it really.
Yeah, grab a couple of canap�s.

Slurp a bit of vino, throw up over
a couple of diplomats and, if I'm asked,

say that wild horses wouldn't drag me
down to that death-trap. Yes.

By the way, where's Graham, Colin?

Erm, well, he's, erm,
he's not actually back yet.

- He's been out since half past ten.
- Yes...

Colin, I don't mind a bit of give and take in this
office, but I do resent being taken for a ride.

I mean, it's happening all the time now.

If Graham thinks he can absent himself
for hours on end, then he's mistaken.

He's going to get an official
caution. First and last.

Yes. Well, if you think so.

Oh, yes. He'll be told
as soon as he gets back.

Now, I was just thinking, Colin, you know
this thing at the Waldorf you're going to?

- Yes.
- What if you don't go?

- Sorry?
- That way you'd be free to speak to Graham.

- Me?
- Who else, Colin? You are the supervisor.

- Yes, but...
- I know, I know...

you're worried about missing
the Eurotunnel launch, aren't you? Yes.

Well, I tell you what, Colin, erm... Oh!

It'll mean me having to juggle things
about a bit, but... All right, I'll go.

It's OK, don't worry.

Just let me know how
you get on with Graham.

Yeah!

Oi, Col, what's going on?

I just saw Travers on the way out and he
said you were going to give me a caution.

- Erm...
- Is that true?

Look, it's no skin off my nose
you going for these job interviews,

- but you know what Travers is like...
- Let me get this straight.

You, Colin Watkins, who's sat opposite me for
four years, who's gone down the pub with me,

who's had a laugh with us, read my paper
and all that, you are now giving me a caution?

- Well, I...
- Well, don't worry about it, Col.

It doesn't matter, anyway. I did go
for an interview today and with any luck,

I'll be shot of this place soon.

Yeah, I'll be me own boss, have my
own car, roam around the country.

Not stuck here in this rat hole.
I'll have an expense account.

I won't be fumbling around
for my luncheon vouchers.

You want to watch it, Col.
How long have you been here?

Ages. Do you know what you are?

- What?
- An old desk.

You're part of the furniture -
battered, chipped, dependable.

Somewhere people can put
their arses wherever they like.

Oh, yes, it's so easy, isn't it?

Loads of nice jobs just hanging around,
falling off trees.

Let's have a look.

"Creative and Media".

"Very Competitive" page.

"The Very Competitive Indeed" page.

The "Let's Face lt, You Haven't
Got a Monkey's" section.

Oh, yes, here we are...

"Vacancies Already Filled But Advertised
Anyway To Wind The Punters Up" supplement.

Oh, what's the use?
There's no way out.

I'll be in that job till the day I die,
I know it.

I'll retire, they'll give
me a whisky decanter.

I'll die of hypothermia the following year.

And that's it. Colin Watkins' brief candle.

"Dear Colin, we're pleased to tell you
that your story Out of Commission

has been accepted for inclusion
in next year's Langley Book of Horror,

which is scheduled to be published
at the end of January.

Further details of contract will follow shortly.
All best wishes, John Langley."

Jen! Jen! Jen, I've done it. It's in!
The story's made it.

- 'You've heard from Langley? '
- Yeah, yeah. It's going in!

- The Langley Book of Horror.
- 'Colin, I don't know what to say! It's brilliant! '

Yeah, now get over here.
We're going to celebrate.

'I can't. I've got that clients' dinner
I told you about.'

- What? You, you...
- 'They've flown in from Belgium specially.'

Well, cancel it!

Nothing like this has ever happened to me
in my life before.

We are going to celebrate tonight!

- You do want champagne, don't you?
- Yes.

Great.

I mean, the lobsters will freeze, if you
prefer to pop out for a kebab or something.

- I don't want kebabs.
- Neither do I. Just checking.

Right!

Right. On with the celebration.

Yeah, let's get that boat and really
push it out for once, eh?

There is a half bottle of Riesling
in the fridge, if you'd...

- Something's up.
- No, there isn't.

- Yes, there is.
- No, there isn't.

Colin, what?

What?

What?

You don't think we're
jumping the gun, do you?

- Why?
- The book's not even out yet.

I can't help feeling all this celebration
is tempting fate.

You're absolutely right. I mean,
the moment you open that champagne,

John Langley's going to come stampeding
through that door and call the whole thing off.

Look, I haven't come round to spend the
whole evening staring at your miserable mush.

- Now open the bubbly!
- You could be right, you know.

- About what?
- About Langley changing his mind.

- Oh, don't be absurd!
- Well...

I mean, you've got it here
in writing, in black and white.

It's perfectly possible, you know.
People do blow hot and cold.

I mean, he probably never thought
I had it in me to start with.

Then he read my story, found it reasonably
literate, not too many spelling mistakes.

He was so impressed by the fact that the
covering letter was in joined-up writing,

he went completely overboard.

Now, in the cold light of day,
he's beginning to regret it.

He's probably sitting at home right now,
trying to concoct a diplomatic letter.

"Dear Colin..." No.

"Dear Mr Watkins..." Hm!

"Dear Watkins..."

"Dear Scum-bag...

When I first read your story,
I thought it was absolutely sensational.

On a second reading, I vomited.

So let's just call the whole thing
a terrible, a terrible mistake.

Sorry to be so mercurial but I'm only
human, aren't I? All best wishes, etc, etc.

John Langley."

Jen?

- What are you doing?
- I'm going to bed.

It's eight o'clock.

Yeah, we're obviously not celebrating
and I've got an early start.

Why do you always have to overreact?

It's a perfectly reasonable fear, isn't it?
I was just getting it off my chest.

Look, John Langley is just about the
most respected publisher in the business.

It is a known fact that once he
makes a decision he sticks by it.

- Really?
- Really. He does not change his mind.

You're right!

The most important thing to happen to me
in the past decade and I'm all on edge.

Right, OK, panic over!
Let's get stuck into the champers.

Jen?

What time shall I set the alarm for?

What are you doing?
Come on, let's get stuck in!

Look, tonight has all gone wrong.

I cancelled my clients, rushed round
buying nice food, got all dressed up

and within two minutes of my getting here
the whole atmosphere is destroyed.

I'm OK about it now, you see. You've
eased my mind. I want to celebrate now.

I'm not a machine. I mean, you don't
just press 36 and get "good mood".

Anyway, the more I think of it, you're probably
right. Best to wait till the book comes out.

I don't want to wait until the book comes out!
I'm in a festive mood now.

Sit down and bloody celebrate!

There's no need to shout.
Now I'm definitely off to bed.

Oh, bloody marvellous!

On Colin Watkins' big day.

Let's celebrate in style!

What can I do now?

Unblock the waste disposal unit?

Oh, I know, I could go through
last year's gas bills.

Oh, God, I'm elated!

Ah, so what if Langley has changed his mind?
What if he hasn't?

What's all the fuss about, anyway?
Who gives a damn?

It's only a poxy little story, isn't it?

It's not a a novel.
It's not a violin concerto.

It's not an opera cycle.
It's a 36-page story.

A piffling molecule in
the galaxy of creation.

Ah, well, you've had your moment
of success, Watkins, settle down.

There's drudgery to be getting on with.

- Hello?
- 'Ls that Colin Watkins? '

It's Ann Fletcher here -
John Langley's secretary.'

Oh, my God! That's it. The end of the line.
She's rung up to apologise.

They're sending the story back.
It was all a mistake.

'Hello?

Hello?

Hello? '

Hello.

'Erm, John wants to know if you're free
next Wednesday evening.

He'd like to take you out to dinner.'

Din? Er, er, dinner? Me? Er...

Er, er, I'm... Yeah, fine! Fine!

'Good, shall we say eight o'clock?
Phillippe's Brasserie in Frith Street.'

Hang on, hang on!
Erm, eight, eight, yeah.

Er, er, Phillippe's Brasserie?

Er, Frith... Frith Street, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, that'll be fine, fine.

'Between you and me, Colin, you've done very
well. It's not often John takes the writers out.

He thought your story was by far
and away the best.'

- Did he?
- 'Yes.

- He's talked of nothing else the past week.'
- What?

'Well, apparently,
you've set a whole new style.

Since he got your story, three contributors
have been asked for re-writes.

This is strictly off the record, of course.
Anyway, next Wednesday it is, then.

I'll put a letter in the post
just to confirm the arrangements.'

Right, right!

Oooooh!

Oooh, aaaaagh!

Ooooh!

Aaah! Erm, erm...

- Hello, Jen?
- 'Colin, I'm in a meeting.'

Er, er, Jen. Me, me, best! Langley!

'What? '

- Story, you know.
- 'What are you on about? '

- Dinner!
- 'Are you all right? '

For heaven's sake, woman, it's easy
enough to understand! It's perfectly clear!

Langley thought that my story was
the best and is taking me out to dinner.

- 'Oh, that's wonderful. When? '
- What?

- 'When's he taking you out? '
- Er, erm, er, Wed.

'What? '

- Wed! Wed!
- 'Wednesday? '

Yes, yes! Wed, eight!
Phil! Bra! Frith! Yes!

Which one shall I wear?

Look, Langley is not going
to see your underpants.

Now we haven't got much time.
Have you got the address?

Erm, yeah. I'll go and get the letter, yeah.

"Dear Colin, Just a quick note
to say once again

how much we enjoyed Out of Commission.

It really was one of the best
contributions we've had. Mwah!

Looking forward to seeing you at Phillippe's
Brasserie, 48, Frith Street at 8:00pm,

Wednesday 12th.
Best wishes, John Langley."

Right, that's just up from
Piccadilly Circus Tube.

Hang on.

- Are you intending to wear trousers?
- Wait a minute.

- D'you see that?
- See what?

Anything strike you about that letter?

Well, it's on paper, it's in English.

No, no, no, look, look at the "Dear" and
the "Colin". Look, they're out of line, you see?

Yeah, well the typewriter
must have slipped or something.

It's a circular. My name's
out of line with everything else.

It's probably the way they write their letters.
Now do you a tie or do you want to be casual?

- It's a circular!
- Casual, why not?

I think your blue shirt will go
best with these trousers.

- It's a bloody circular!
- "Thank you, Jenny, that was a brilliant idea."

It's a bloody round robin.
Other people have had this!

There'll probably be other writers there tonight
then. It'll be a good chance to make contacts.

I don't want other people there.
I want it to be just me.

Look, I've just noticed this, it says
"one of the best contributions".

Last week, his secretary said,
"By far and away the best contribution."

- I'm being relegated behind me back.
- You are not being relegated!

"One of the best" -
I mean, what does it mean?

"One of the best" - I mean,
how many of us are there? Eh?

Two? Three? Twenty?

How many other hacks am I going to have
this wonderful t�te-a-t�te evening with, eh?

John Langley's best? Oh, yes, two-a-penny.
Roll up, roll up! Come and get 'em!

Cheap at half the price! God, there's nothing
like feeling a bit special, is there?

What does he think I am?
What does he think I am, eh?

A piece of Allied Carpet? A slab of butter
festering on some EEC mountain?

"Ah, yes, that's your table Mr Watkins,
over there in the corner -

the one in the candlelit alcove,
with Mr John Langley,

14 other writers, half the population of
Shanghai and two Afghanistani goat herds."

And where the bloody hell
is my blue shirt?

Hello. Is that Phillippe's Brasserie?
Yes. Hello. Could you help me, please?

Mr John Langley has reserved a table for eight
o'clock. How many has he booked it for?

Two? Thank you. Goodbye.

Now piss off!

In two hours from now,
we'll be on the brandies,

probably influencing the entire course
of contemporary English literature.

The whole restaurant
will be craning their necks,

desperately trying to catch snippets of our
conversation. Oh, well, each to their own.

Excuse me, could you turn that down, please?

I said, could you turn that thing down?

There are other passengers
in this carriage, you know.

- They haven't said they want it down.
- Well, I'm sure they do.

I'm asking you politely.

- Is something bothering you?
- I'm asking you politely to turn that down.

If you want it turned down, why don't
you come over here and do it yourself?

You heard him - you turn it down!

Oi!

You stupid old cow!

What are you doing?
Oh, how dare you? No!

That's right -just sit there.

I'm twice your age and half your size.

Couldn't somebody think
of pulling the emergency cord?

Or calling the guard? Or...
Perhaps it was too much bother?

"I'm late! Oh yes, I'm in too much of a hurry."
There's no time to get involved, is there?

That's it? Were you scared?

Oh, for God's sake! Do you think I wasn't?

It wasn't your problem, oh, no.

Oh, go on, get on with your lives!

Don't let it spoil your evening!

I was looking forward to this meeting, Colin.

The Langley Book of Horror
has been going for about ten years now

and it was getting in a bit of a rut.
With more stuff like yours...

it'll have a new lease of life.
You were right on target. It was terrific.

- Oh, thanks. Thanks very much.
- Don't let it spoil your evening!

Actually, when I say you were right
on target, it's not quite true.

Your writing was different
from any that had gone before.

It was off-the-wall, whimsical. In fact,
just the direction I wanted to take now.

I don't think any new writer has
had such an impact as you have.

- Don't let it spoil your evening!
- I won't let it spoil my evening.

Initially, I thought that the incident...

I wasn't the only person in that carriage.
Someone else could have done something.

...Re-reading it, I was totally won over.

One of things that excited me most
was the sheer simplicity.

You took a simple psychological motif -

in this case guilt -

and followed it through
to its perfectly logical conclusion.

I've lost my appetite.
I don't want to eat.

- Shall I take your order now, Mr Langley?
- Yes, please.

It's a disaster. I don't want to eat.

I think if I eat, I'll throw up
all over the table.

What?

Sorry! Sorry, I just... I was thinking...

I was just thinking about throwing...
throwing... throwing you a roll.

A monkfish ceviche and
then rack of lamb. Colin?

Er, monk... monk... monk ceviche
and rack of lamb.

You choose the wine, Colin. Get something
nice - let's sting Langley & Edison tonight.

There was nothing you could do for her.
Just put it behind you. Enjoy tonight.

Go the whole hob. You're not going to get
many invites like this coming your way,

so do what he says and let rip.

Bottle of house white, please.

One of the things I liked most
about your piece was the humour.

Not only did it lighten the piece and
refresh it, it also heightened the drama.

Now, by contrast, take an idea that
in some way is very similar to yours.

Conrad's Lord Jim.

That too derives its energy
from a basic psychological idea.

- Do you know the story, Colin?
- Erm...

It's about a sea captain who leaves
his passengers in a sinking ship

and stands by in his lifeboat
to watch them drown.

Oh.

In short, it's about cowardice.

Yes.

He feels utterly degraded as a human being
and it haunts him for the rest of his life.

I see.

It's a long, bleak, relentless,
harrowing argument

for mental and spiritual self-flagellation

in which the only solace is death.

- Telephone call for you, Mr Langley.
- Oh, sorry, Colin.

Would you like the lamb
rare or medium, sir?

What? Oh, I don't care. You choose.

Thank you, sir.

Why did she have to pick on me?

What could I have done?
I'd have only made things worse.

Diving in there, aggravating
the situation even more.

They'd have left her alone
and I'd have ended up in intensive care.

I mean, what a cheek - here I am
on the verge of artistic breakthrough.

I'm supposed to lay down my life
for some stupid old woman,

who rampages around the Underground system
causing confrontation wherever she goes.

I mean, those poor kids.

An innocent bunch of healthy,
obnoxious teenagers,

who are just out for a bit of fun
with their ghetto-blaster

and along comes old Mother Grundy
to wreck their evening for them.

I mean, what is wrong with a bit of
hideous cacophony every now and then?

That was Malcolm Edison, my partner.

So excited about the new book,
he has to track me down here.

He also mentioned discussing
future projects with you, Colin.

Oh, really?
Wait a minute, it wasn't cowardice on my part.

It was shyness. Yes!
Good old English shyness, that's it.

We just... we just hate being
self-conscious in public.

I said do you think it's out of the question?

Oh, my God, I wasn't listening!

Erm...

What's he referring to?
Stories? Royalties?

Middlesbrough winning
the Second Division?

Breeding wildebeest in captivity?

Well, I think it probably depends
on, on, on, on what you mean by...

Yes?

- By it.
- What?

What you said.

But I don't think there's
any other interpretation.

Oh, yes, I, I, think... I think there are three
quite, possibly quite, different meanings.

Are there?

Yes, there's the obvious...
the obvious surface meaning. Er...

There's the... there's the... there's the
not-so-obvious, deep-seated meaning.

And there's... there's a really...
there's a really, really unlikely meaning

that's, that's so far beneath
the surface of things,

that, that, that no-one
would ever, ever, think...

I'm sorry, John, I haven't been
listening to a word you've been saying.

I'm sorry. I've just had
something on my mind, erm...

Oh, I'm sorry.
Anything you want to discuss?

No, no. No, look I'm... I'm OK.
Please... please carry on. I'm all ears.

Now concentrate on
what he's saying, Watkins.

- We are thinking of commissioning...
- Privacy, that's another reason.

Yes, we respect other people's privacy.

The last thing she wanted was me barging in,
trying to solve her problem.

We don't tread on each other's toes. We're too
polite. Yes, we keep ourselves to ourselves.

We calmly sit by and watch
other people get mutilated.

Oh, my God!

I'd have had those kids for breakfast.

I'd have taken them to the cleaner's.

Mate of mine in Deptford has got a crossbow.
He could sort 'em out.

Of course, you know what Mick
would have done?

Yeah - the Alsatian.

He'd have got his old man's Alsatian, starved it
for a week, driven it down in his Land Rover

and let all five foot ten
of the bugger loose on 'em.

Right. Well, that's helpful to know.

- Difficult to say, Col.
- Why?

- Oh, no!
- What?

- They haven't got any Super Jiffy.
- Why is it difficult to say?

Hang on. They've probably got them
in Household. Cos I wasn't there, was I?

I told you what happened.

Wait a minute. Going the
wrong way. Erm... No, I'm not!

I told you what happened down
to the last detail, for Chrissake!

- Well, going by what you said...
- Well, who's bloody word do you want for it?

Raisa Gorbachev's?

It sounds like you probably
did the right thing.

Sounds like? Probably? Oh, thanks a lot!

Remind me to call you as a character witness,
next time I'm in the box, won't you?

"Colin Watkins? Pretty good sort of bloke. A
bit dodgy when it comes to the crunch, though."

You did what any normal
human being would do.

Oh, that's even better that is!
What is "normal" supposed to mean?

All right, take this incident the other day.

Bloke gets attacked in Putney High Street
in the rush hour.

Did anyone actually do anything?
Course not.

Small kid gets dragged into a car
slap bang in the middle of the West End.

Anyone stop to question it?
Nah. They haven't got the time.

A week later, his body ends up
in Romney Marshes.

Last week, I had to deal with a rape
case. Happened in her own house.

Needn't have done if anyone had been fagged
to see what all the screaming was about.

It's the way we live now, Col. I see it
everyday in my job. Nobody cares any more.

Thanks a lot, Des.
I feel so much better now.

No bloody Super Jiffy! We are becoming
increasingly callous as a race.

- So I am a callous bastard then?
- No, of course not.

Des, just get off the fence and tell me -
did I do the right thing?

- It's not for me to pass judgment, Col.
- Yes, it is!

- That's it. I'm sunk.
- What?

- No Super Jiffy.
- Can't you use something else?

You tear round like a blue-arsed fly cos they
can't be bothered to stock the shelves properly.

- For God's sake!
- It really gets my goat. Anyone like to help?

If I don't get this Super Jiffy, that is it -
the whole evening is blown.

Would somebody please get
this man some bloody Super Jiffy?!

At least tell me what
you would have done?

Well, it depends.

Oh, don't start that again.
Look, let me put it this way.

Have you ever been
in that situation before?

- No.
- Oh...

Not for donkey's years.

- Eh? You mean you have?
- Well, sort of.

Well, what happened?

Pass us the Brillo will you, Col?
It's right by you.

Well, come on.

- It's all a bit of a blur really.
- Tell me.

Erm, I don't see the point.
It's not strictly comparable.

I need to hear about it!

- Well, there were these blokes.
- How many?

I don't know. It was dark. It was difficult
to see. Blimey, this one's a bastard!

Time for the big guns, I reckon.
Pass me the brush, Col.

Anyway, this woman was trying to
get into a lift in her tower block

and they were giving her a bit of
a hard time. Not much else to say, really.

- So you... so you did something?
- Yeah. I couldn't just leave her there, could I?

Why not?!

Well, how come you didn't say
anything about this earlier?

Because they were a completely
different set of circumstances.

I knew you'd get hold of the wrong end of the
stick and compare it to your own situation.

How dare you patronise me!

Colin...

It's a bit... it's a bit different for me.

You know, with my job,
the kind of kids I handle.

You get to be a bit... streetwise.

For a start, I could tell a mile off
that this bloke was going to pull a knife.

Knife?!

And the other guy obviously had never
used a machete before in his life.

A machete?!

It was nothing. I'd got the luck of the bounce,
that's all. I was out of casualty in half an hour.

It was the local papers
made a song and dance about it.

- Oh, my God - a hero!
- I am not a hero.

- Bugger off!
- But, Col...

- Stay away from me!
- Col!

Col!

You had it coming to you, didn't you?

That night on the train, going to see Langley,
strutting around like a peacock.

So smug, so pleased with yourself.

Glibly dismissing the rest of the human race.

You got too near the sun, Watkins.
Your wings melted.

OK, so it happened once.
No need to write yourself off.

Go for a fresh start.

Make tonight the first night
of the rest of your life.

I mean, take him for a start.
Just let him try it.

One step out of line. One bit of aggro.
Just don't push your luck.

I can play that game too.
Go on, go on, tempt me!

You didn't think you'd run into Charles Bronson
on the Bakerloo Line tonight, did you?

Would you put that out, please?

No.

- There's no smoking in the Tube.
- Yes, there is. Us.

I'll report you to the guard.

- Do what you like.
- You'll be fined.

You're beginning to get on my nerves.

Here, excuse me...

Yeah? What's up, mate?

This is, er... This is Kilburn Park, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

It's my stop, that's all.

Ripped By mstoll