- Your chain saw, ma'am. - Thank you, Sparrow.
- Where's my husband? - In the bathroom, ma'am.
Charging his pacemaker and cleaning his teeth.
Are you sure you want to fell the tree?
Only I know an excellent tree-feller in Bombay.
I'll be fine, Sparrow.
- I'm not afraid of chain saws. - Suit yourself.
(WHIRRING)
(MOTOR WHIRRING)
Sparrow. Sparrow!
(MOTOR REVVING)
Thank you for all coming here today to pay tribute to my wife.
It's great to see so many familiar faces.
The family will be very pleased.
It's a really wonderful turnout. Thank you.
(GRUNTING)
You know that feeling you get when you've eaten too much peach?
Well, I've got it now.
How much longer is this gonna go on for?
Turner & Hooch is on ITV this afternoon, and I bloody love that film.
Leave Dirty Ernie alone, Da.
He's in mourning.
I feel so sorry for him.
Imagine having a funeral service for your wife
and the only people who turn up are the undertakers.
I'd like to sing you a special song here today.
It's written by a guy named Prince.
I'm gonna be accompanied on the recorder by my son Frifty.
He's got a big birthmark on his back. It looks like the Isle of Wight,
but that doesn't stop him playing the recorder like a champion.
Just me and you now, Frift. Okay?
I miss Mum, Dad.
I miss her too, son.
Now play the recorder. Don't muck it up.
(WHISPERING) Oh, this is gonna be embarrassing.
If Ernie sees us laugh or wince, he'll bloody kill us.
You remember how he behaved at his last wife's funeral.
No, I wasn't there. What happened?
Well, he gunned down the choir and decapitated the vicar.
(BASS GUITAR PLAYING)
How comes he wasn't arrested?
He's the Chief Inspector.
(BASS GUITAR PLAYING)
(YELLING) Will you pack it in?
Go and funk up somewhere else! Have some bloody respect, man!
(DRUM ROLLING)
And you can shut up and all!
(TROMBONE PLAYING)
And you!
Shall I make the necessary arrangements, ma'am?
I know a wonderful firm of undertakers in Bombay.
- Isn't that a bit far? - Not in my heart, it's not.
Don't worry yourself, Sparrow.
I have an old friend in Trebanos who runs a funeral parlour.
We'll ask him.
Very good, ma'am.
Suit yourself.
Oh, not again!
♪ It's been seven hours and fifteen days
♪ Since you took your love away
(PLAYING DISCORDANTLY)
♪ Igo out every night and I sleep all day
♪ Since you took your love away ♪
(PLAYING DISCORDANTLY)
Play it properly or don't play it at all.
Lost me place now.
♪ Nothing compares
♪ Nothing compares to you ♪
(PLAYING DISCORDANTLY)
Right, that's it!
You've really let your mother down and made me look completely stupid.
That was my one chance to sing, and you've mucked it right up.
Now go and face the wall.
Go and face the wall!
Sorry about that.
(CLEARING THROAT)
(SIGHING)
I've lost the mood now.
Thanks very much, son.
You can forget your birthday next week. It's cancelled.
As far as I'm concerned, you can be this age for the rest of your life.
Sorry about my son. He's got a lot to learn.
Now, how much do I owe you?
Oh, we can talk about the money again. Now's really not the time, Ernie.
No, no, no. I'd rather get it sorted out now. Now that everything's ruined.
Oh, well, in that case you owe me, um,
700 Welsh pounds.
I tried my best.
Don't worry. We thought you were brilliant.
Here.
- Have a Fondant Fancy... - Don't give him that.
He's banned from food. Come on, shitface, we're going home.
That's awful. He can't talk to a kid like that!
- I'm gonna call the Social Services. - Arwell, don't get involved.
Ernie's a violent man. If he finds out you've squealed,
he'll knock you to Frampton and burn you alive.
- But... - No buts!
You've got a nice face. I don't want you turning up for work
looking like the English Patient. You'll frighten the mourners.
Besides, you're an undertaker, not a bloody Samaritan.
Now, you sort all this out here.
I'm going down the Cash and Carry to get some embalming fluid, okay?
(BOTH GROANING)
Close. Okay, Gwynne, you're up.
(EXCLAIMING)
Bogey!
(CAR APPROACHING)
Henry's Cat! Customer, quick! Get her in the fridge.
Hello? Anybody here?
Oh, it always happens.
I go down the Cash and Carry to buy one thing and I come back with all this.
I don't really need any of it.
It's just that I'm overwhelmed by the size, and I just have to buy it.
I mean, who on earth needs this much mustard, huh?
LADY APARTHEID: Hello, Ivor.
FRIFTY: (ECHOING) I tried my best.
(DIALLING)
- WOMAN ON PHONE: Hello, Social Services. - Hello, is that Social Services?
- Yes. - Good.
- I'd like to report child mistreatment. - Would you like to remain anonymous?
- Aye. - Okay. Can I have your name and address, please?
It's Arwell...
Ivor Thomas.
Thomas, Thomas, Thomas and Thomas.
215 Swansea Avenue.
So, you're a Lady now, then?
I saw the wedding photos in Top Taff Toffs magazine.
Yes. Harry, Lord Apartheid, and I met at Chequers one year.
Oh!
It was love at first sight.
Well, Harry didn't have any pupils, so he found it very hard to see.
But when he felt me over, he fell in love.
I want my husband to be buried
at the house in the garden under his favourite bench.
There's going to be some very important influential people there.
- As well as members of the Welsh Assembly. - Oh!
I know you're very well respected. I want you personally to oversee everything.
Yes, okay.
And it'll give us an opportunity to catch up
and maybe get to know each other again.
(IVOR CHUCKLING)
Your father always said you'd grow up to have excellent bunkum.
Oh, I have.
Like a lion's, in fact.
Well, I think I'd better be going.
I've got an appointment to see a druid this afternoon. I don't want to upset him.
Well, goodbye, Ivor.
- Da? - Shut up!
- But... - Shut up!
(KNOCKING AT DOOR)
- Get the door. - Okay.
Shut up!
Hello, little boy. I'm from Social Services.
- Is your pa in? - My pa?
Your daddy?
Daddy doesn't like visitors when he's heating swans.
Heating swans?
He hates swans getting wet. It hurts his head.
ERNIE: Who is it, Frift?
- It's... - ERNIE: Shut up!
Hello.
I'm Anne Nann from the Department of Social Services.
I've come here to ask you a few questions.
Oh, that's very good, Gwynne. Very good. Now give it a couple of coats.
Lady Apartheid wants a beautiful gold coffin for her husband's funeral, see?
Nothing but the best. Oh!
Talking of coats...
We need never worry about Grattan's repossessing ours again.
- How come? - Well, as you know,
Lady Apartheid and I had a bit of a fling when we were babies,
and I reckon that if we make a good impression at the funeral,
not only will we get offers from the aristocracy to bury them,
but I might also get the chance to marry Lady A and become a Lord myself.
- Is she wealthy? - Does the Pope shit in the woods?
However, there is one problem.
She wants me,
and me alone, to arrange the service.
Now as you all know, I am terrified of dead bodies.
So without you three chaffinch bollocks there,
how am I gonna cope?
Why don't you try Chinese medicine?
What?
I read this article the other day about Chinese medicine.
Something about this Chinese man who had a fear of beans.
Now, he went to see a Chinese doctor, told him everything,
ate some powdered baby bones, or something, and that was it, cured.
Cured?
Well, I got nothing to lose, have I?
Okay, I'll go and see the...
BOTH: Chinese doctor.
I'm very sorry to have troubled you, Mr Kelp.
If I had a son who played the recorder as badly as that,
I'd do exactly the same as you, if not worse.
See, I told you.
And thanks again for the ganja. I'm sure that'll ease the arthritis.
That's all right. I've got loads.
- Oh, one other thing before you go. - Yeah?
Who's the bastard that squealed?
I'm sorry, that's confidential information.
But seeing as you gave me some fine weed, it was Ivor Thomas of Thomas, Thomas...
Thomas and Thomas, I know.
Ivor Thomas, you're dead.
IVOR: I'm cured.
This is it, boys. The Chinese medicine. Today is a momentous occasion.
The thought of seeing a corpse no longer fills me with fear and dread.
So, let's celebrate. Strawberry Cornettos all around.
(EXCLAIMING EXCITEDLY)
Ah, this is brilliant. No more spasms. I can't believe it.
Right, come on. More.
(IVOR SCREAMING)
- PERCY: Oh, Jesus! - I done a bogey.
Gwynne, go and finish the coffin, quick.
(GROANING) That stupid bloody doctor, he's conned me.
£300 I paid for that bloody cakka tu.
- You said you felt better, though. - Well, I did, I did. I mean...
Whilst in his office he gave me some dried tiger foot to sniff
and showed me photos of his dead Triad relatives, and I felt fine. I did.
- I didn't shake once. - Hold on, I think I know what's happened.
- What? - Experiment. Come by here.
- No, I'm not coming in there. - Come on.
- All right.
Oh!
Right. Take a look in there.
- Right. Okay? - Yes, yes.
Now, take a look in that one.
(SCREAMING)
Just as I thought.
The Chinese doctor has cured your phobia of Chinese corpses, not Welsh ones.
- That's ridiculous. - No, no, he's right, Arwell.
- So, come on, Arwell. Any more bright ideas? - What about hypnotism?
- What about it? - Well, that cures phobias.
And there's a new hypnotist surgery opened in town.
You could go down there.
IVOR: Come on, Arwell.
- FRIFTY: Da... - Shut up.
- Ivor Thomas? - Yes.
The Duke of Hypnotism will see you now if you'd like to come through.
Good luck, Da.
Like a lion.
Hashoom.
Thank you, Babs. And what's your name?
Ivor. Ivor Thomas.
- And what's your vocation? - I'm an undertaker.
Hashoom. And what's your phobia?
I'm scared of dead bodies.
(CROWD EXCLAIMING)
Hashoom.
Take a seat, Ivor, and relax.
Hashoom.
AUDIENCE: Hashoom.
Look at the pendulum.
Follow the pendulum.
Don't take your eyes of the pendulum.
Chill, Ivor. Chill.
Relax. Hashoom.
Your subconscious is floating like a orang-utan in a canoe.
Relax.
Relax every muscle in your body.
(IVOR FARTING)
Not that muscle.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHING)
You are totally relaxed. Hashoom.
AUDIENCE: Hashoom.
You're sitting at home in your favourite chair,
your feet are in hot, hashoom, Radox.
Your hair is asleep.
You're watching your favourite programme.
What is it, Ivor?
Doogie Howser, MD. He's a very clever boy.
- Hashoom. - AUDIENCE: Hashoom.
Right. This is where the fun starts.
Well, that was quick.
- What do you mean? You've been gone four hours. - Yeah, what happened?
Nothing, I just walked in there and walked out again.
Waste of bloody money if you ask me.
Well, are you cured?
Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there? Come on.
(DOOR CLOSING)
Okay, Da. This is it. This is the test. This is the big one.
Okay, now, now, out of all the corpses you know, which one gives you the biggest willies?
- Celia Craddox. - Celia Craddox. She's in the freezer.
I go open up the freezer, I'm gonna count to three, and you're going to look.
Okay? Ready, one, two, three.
I'm cured. I'm bloody cured!
Oh, yes!
Like a lion! Thank you, Celia.
Hey! Hey, hey. Where's Gwynne? Let's celebrate.
(ALL HUMMING)
(GOLDFINGER THEME PLAYING)
My God.
Look, there's a note.
"Ivor, this is only the beginning."
- What's that all about, then? - You upset anyone lately, Da?
Well, I told Mrs Magpie in the Happy Shopper
to go and shag herself with the rough end of a pineapple.
You said that to an old woman?
Yeah, well, she overcharged me for Garibaldis, didn't she?
That's no reason to cover Gwynne in gold paint spray, is it?
Crumbles.
This place stinks of horrible gold fumes.
He's right. It's gone right to my head.
It's making me feel...
(ALL GROANING)
Bugger me with a cup, it's 10:45.
I've got a Lord to bury. Oh! Scrub him down!
And put the coffin in the car.
- You sure you'll be all right on your own? - Yes!
HYPNOTIST: Hashoom.
Today, Ivor Thomas,
you die.
No one accuses me of being a bad parent.
- Da? - Shut up.
You know, I'm worried about Da.
He's not totally himself. He keeps going blank.
Oh, this is no good. It's not coming off at all.
- Ouch! It hurts. - Gwynne, do you want to be golden forever?
- No. - Well, shut up, then. Look, bite on this if it hurts.
Hang on. I got an idea. Gwynne, get dressed.
- What are you gonna do? - Take him to the pawn shop.
- He's probably worth a fortune now he's golden. - I'm sorry, no, you cannot pawn Gwynne.
Pah! Yeah, you're right. We won't get much from him anyway.
- Sorry, Gwynne. - It's okay. Always knew I was worthless.
- Yes? - I'm the undertaker. I'm late.
I'm sorry I'm late. A lorry full of gravel overturned on the motorway.
I was stuck behind it. It was carnage. Look, my pockets are full of gravel.
Oh, that's all right. Just bring the body down now.
They're all waiting to pay their last respects.
Now we're holding back the ceremony for Prince Charles.
- Prince Charles? - Yes, Prince Charles. He's a friend of the family.
Now, Father Quartz, he was our closest vicar
and used to fiddle with us when we were kids.
He's holding the ceremony in the abbey at the back of the house.
We're aiming to start the funeral at 2:00,
so hopefully by 5:00 all the guests will have gone,
and we'll have the whole manor to ourselves.
Well, I better go back and mingle.
Lady Abbravanbach, how are you, cariad?
HYPNOTIST: Hashoom.
MAN ON TV: Today police arrested a sex pest known as the Duke of Hypnotism.
Real name, the Marquis of Hypnotism.
The former mental used his powers of hypnotism to force men to flash at women
and squeeze their boobies.
The Marquis of Hypnotism from Potters Bar, Gwent,
is well known to locals for his hypnotic powers, beard and weird sense of humour.
Police took this footage earlier in the week.
Okay, Ivor, you will no longer be afraid of dead bodies.
However, if you hear anyone cough,
you'll drop your pants and your trousers, get out your winkers,
reach for the nearest mammaries you can, and squeeze them,
saying, "Whack, whack, oops".
Police have managed to locate most of his hypnotised victims and converted them back.
However, constables are looking for two men who are still out there
and likely to expose themselves unless stopped.
Police advise you not to cough if you see them, unless of course, you want a quick cheap thrill.
BOTH: We're coming, Da!
Police are searching for £30,000 worth of bikes and crap stolen from Halfords yesterday.
- It's all ready. - Oh, good.
I'm just waiting for Charles. He's ever so late.
Ma'am, it's Father Quartz. He's asking when to start
as he has an urgent appointment with the doctor about his terrible cough.
Well, tell him we're waiting for the Prince. If he doesn't like it, tough.
Very well, ma'am.
I can't wait to be all on our own.
Me neither. Looks like we'll have to wait a little bit longer.
Bloody Prince Charles, who the hell does he think he is?
Actually, Sparrow, sod the Prince.
If he's late, it's his fault. We'll start the funeral without him.
I can't wait to get this over so that I can start my new life.
♪ Death of death and hell's destruction ♪
- Trespassers. - No, we're the undertakers.
- Liar! The undertaker is already here. - Yeah, but that's our Da.
(GOLDFINGER THEME PLAYING)
Oh, holy one. Buddha.
It is you, I didn't know it was you.
I am your servant, my master. I will do anything.
Can I have a bag of crisps?
Come on, let's save Da.
(CHANTING)
♪ I will ever give to thee ♪
We are gathered here today...
(COUGHING)
FATHER: Sorry, I've got a terrible cough.
We are gathered here today to pay tribute...
(ARWELL AND PERCY EXCLAIMING)
What the Def Leppard is going on?
He's been hypnotised. If he hears someone cough,
he wants to show his William and squeeze ladies' boobies.
What are you both doing here?
You've been duped. The hypnotist, he tricked you.
When you hear anyone cough, you do naughty things.
So if everybody could avoid coughing then Da will be fine,
and the ceremony can continue as usual, no problems, okay?
Are you mad, Arwell?
(COUGHING)
Oh, no. Will someone stop him coughing, please.
- Did I do the dirty? - No, not that time.
It's all right. Father Quartz is having some Galloways.
Everything will be fine.
- Maybe I should wait outside. - Might be a good idea.
You're going nowhere, Ivor, my son.
- Ernie, what are you doing here? - Don't come the innocent with me.
You're suppose to be my friend.
We used to play rugby together. Share girls.
- You even helped me with my swan problem. - Swan problem?
- Yeah, Ernie has a dirty passion for swans. - Used to have!
I've been to see an expert. I'm all cured now, thank you very much.
- Yeah, all right, all right. - How could you? You squealing tin of mince.
Look, I don't know what you're talking about.
- I'm very sorry about this everyone. - Oi!
I'm gonna kill you now, Ivor. No one accuses me of being a bad parent.
- No one. - Bad parent? I never accused you of being a bad...
Just a minute.
Arwell, you called the Social Services, didn't you?
You called the Social Services, and you gave them my name, didn't you?
All right, I did.
He is a bad dad. Look at him.
That's no example to set a child.
Besides, he's left Frifty home all alone.
That's not very responsible, is it?
That's none of your business. Besides, he likes to be home alone.
Pork?
Please don't kill me. I'm not ready to die.
Too late. Prepare to die.
(COUGHING)
PERCY: Oh, no, not again.
Whack, whack, oops. Whack, whack, oops.
(GRUNTING)
Oh, that was a close one.
Do you think we can finally bury my husband without interruption now?
Yeah. And for goodness' sake, nobody cough, please.
(TRUMPETS BLOWING)
What now?
I'm sorry we're so late but a lorry-load of gravel had overturned on the road.
My pockets are full of gravel.
- However. Hello, very nice to see you. - Iechyd da.
- Hello, nice to see you. - Hello.
- Hello, Charles, at last. - CHARLES: I'm so sorry.
CHARLES: Hello. Hello.
Hello.
(COUGHING)
BOTH: No!
IVOR: Whack, whack, oops.
(WOMAN SCREAMING)
HYPNOTIST: Hashoom.