Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
New cast of Skins!
Being 11 is so hard, isn't it?
After we've finished the crystal meth and the heroin,
let's inject some MDMA into our eyeballs.
Then we could have a gang bang!
'At last, Britain's Got Talent returns.
'If you want to be briefly remembered, if you lack shame
'or self-awareness, if you have some kind of mental deficiency and
'like the idea of being humiliated on national television, apply now!'
Oh, my God!
I'm going to follow in the footsteps of overweight classical singers,
weird dog trainers and dance troupes
with urban names to make them look less gay!
This is my chance to shine!
Can we have playtime, please?
Not now, my imaginary friend.
I'm drawing up a bucket list of women I haven't performed sexual intercourse on yet.
Number one, the girl that got away.
Her Majesty the Queen of England.
She may be old, but that just means she knows stuff.
But what about me? What about playtime?
Don't make me angry, Ken!
What are you going to do - hang yourself?
OK!
You wouldn't!
Fuck you!
Well, now you just look silly.
I mean, look at you.
'And now, please welcome this year's exciting new judges.
'They may not have any discernible talent of their own,
'but they're kind of recognisable and they have an opinion.
'First, Jeremy Kyle.
'Then, that girl from that show about that thing
'that was on about six or seven years ago,
'and finally, our special guest, back after humiliating
'most of the Western world in similar television formats, Simon Cowell!'
I am now going to place several household items...
up my anus.
OMG. I can't believe he's here!
Who?
Ricky.
He's so dreamy.
I can't believe our own daughter is too embarrassed to have us there.
I hope Eve's OK.
She's probably feeling better than that guy.
'Up it goes!'
That man has an incredibly spacious arsehole.
Unlike some people!
You know, you're what this competition is all about.
People who do stuff that other people don't normally do.
Yes, you're through.
Thank you.
The crowd's going wild! They love him!
Let's see if our next act can follow that.
I'm Eve Johnson...
and we are... Blood Monkey!
Eat my monkey!
Feel my spunky!
That was...
excellent...
ly bad!
Because it wasn't long enough...
for me to find a gun and blow my head off.
But...
I do see something in you.
A massive pile of steaming shit.
You were awful. And you're out.
You have been judged.
Ow!
I know it's our anniversary weekend, but maybe we shouldn't leave her.
She looks so sad.
She's an emo. They like being sad.
Please, it's the one day a year I am guaranteed you-know-what.
Maybe she's just growing up and doesn't need us around any more.
And I would hate you to miss out on your annual blow job.
Ah, shit-face!
Off to put your sweaty sausage-like fingers all over my daughter?
Hi, Ken. How are you?
I'm well, actually. Yah, yah. You?
Thanks for looking after Eve, Dad. Our hotel is called...
Hotel Heaven. Yes, I know. In Wales.
Have a wonderful time, darling.
You, not so much.
All, just the two of us.
Happy anniversary, darling.
I shall give them the greatest anniversary gift there has ever been.
Myself!
Damn you, friction!
Oh, my goodness!
That loser from Britain's Got Talent!
Let's laugh at her for daring to try.
Evelyn Johnson?
I'm from Britain's Got Talent.
We need your parents to sign this form
so we can show all that backstage footage of you crying.
I can't get their signature.
They're not here any more. They've gone to Heaven.
Interesting.
Fat girl with dead parents?
The audience will eat that shit up.
They love the sympathy vote.
Now, find me a ventriloquist with full-blown AIDS.
Or a stroke victim who does magic tricks.
Well, Wales looks a bit different from the brochure.
Yeah.
Never mind, it's our anniversary
and you know what that means.
I should remind you, Wendy, I am operating heavy machinery.
So am I.
Yeah, we both know that's not true.
Shit!
What are you doing? Stop the car! Put the brakes on!
I'm handling it!
Thank God. We're safe.
Tree!
Baaa!
Shit! What's that?
Don't flash the headlights.
I'm trying to scare him away.
That's the signal you make when you're dogging.
It will only encourage him!
How you know that?
Now is not the time.
Now look what you've done! He's going to dog us. We're going to get dogged.
Surprise!
I'm your anniversary present!
I think dogging might have been preferable.
Is it true you fought in the war, grandpa?
It is. A lot of good men died.
And though I was just a boy, I did what I had to.
I promise to fight with you to the end, mein Fuhrer!
We are under attack! All is lost!
Mein Fuhrer,
Eva,
Goebbels,
Colin,
we must commit the group suicide.
Ah, yes. The suicide pact.
Totally on board with that, guys.
It is a great idea.
I'm looking forward to it.
I can't wait.
Um, just...
I'm going to do it over here.
This is your lucky day!
We want you back on Britain's Got Talent!
Shut the front door! Is this a joke?
Maybe you were nervous first time, what with your parents being dead and all.
Tell us about your dead parents.
It's OK to cry when you talk about your dead parents being dead.
But they're not...
Hold that thought, everyone.
Sit.
Don't tell them your parents are alive.
Mein Gott, the sympathy vote could take us to the finals!
Why do you care?
The winner of the show performs for the Queen, yes?
The perfect opportunity to pork her.
Now for your anniversary present.
It's blow job time!
Oh, yes.
Here we go.
Oh, yeah. That's, er... first class. Thank you.
Well, hello!
Dusty? Dusty?
Shit. Have you been under there the whole time?
I wanted to spend more time to gather on your anniversary.
Where's Mummy?
Is she playing hide and seek?
Dusty, no, stop.
Ready or not, here I come.
Dusty, no!
You're not playing hide and seek, are you?
No.
Hang on, hang on. What are you doing back here, sweetheart?
'A few weeks ago, Evelyn Johnson was just a normal,
'overweight girl.
'Then something terrible happened.'
'Her parents died!'
Oh, my God!
Mum and Dad are dead!
Don't cry.
It's fine. I'm OK.
I've got to be strong now.
Not for me, but just formy s... my s...
my sister!
Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop it!
Stop it! Stop it!
To come here today, after what you've been through,
is nothing short of amazing.
But this is a talent show.
Let's ignore the fact that you've been orphaned at a tragically young age,
and you're just trying to make your way in the world,
and let's judge the music.
All right, stop.
It's really good, I can tell. You're through.
You didn't expect that, now, did you?
I am so going to nail the Queen.
Schwing!
No?
Remember that? No?
Your Majesty,
I bring important news.
The Britain's Got Talent final approaches.
Oh! How delightful!
Who are the finalists?
Norman Jenkins.
He possesses the amazing ability to put a lot of things up his arsehole.
What fun!
Philip can fit a whole lemon under his foreskin.
Perhaps he should try out for it next year.
I'll go down to the final and check it out.
Incognito, of course.
Who else?
Fat girl with dead parents.
Oh my! Is that...
Kenton Lavender?
You know him?
Oh, no. It was...
It was all a very long time ago.
Heads up!
Philip!
Well, this is... This is great.
This is absolutely ideal for...
anniversary romance.
'Tomorrow night, the Britain's Got Talent final
'with Simon Cowell and our judges,
'who we've yet again replaced for no apparent reason.
'And a special guest judge, some girl from Geordie Shore.
'Probably.
'Tonight, we'll see Norman Jenkins...'
Up it goes!
You know, the more stuff I see you put up your anus,
the more I like you.
'Also, Ned Hartley and his dogs' bollocks orchestra.'
'And, of course, Clarissa Howell,
'the legless, deaf violinist with asthma.'
'Also, Evelyn Johnson from Bloodmonkey,
'a plucky, fat girl whose parents died in a car crash.'
What?
They must have found our car. We've got to get
back home and tell her we're OK.
Or we could park that for a while
and just focus on celebrating our anniversary.
So important to mark the occasion in a...
I mean, I don't know what you have in mind.
I've got some... some thoughts.
Eve, Mum and Dad are gone now.
We're all that we have.
I just want you to know that it's your big bro.
I'm here for you. I'll do anything.
I'm your rock.
Thanks, Jason.
I couldn't help overhearing,
mainly because I was standing very close and I've got great hearing.
But also, I've taken an interest in you, Jason.
Why?
I have something of an indecent proposal for you, Jason Johnson.
I want you to spend the night with me.
In return, your sister will win the final of Britain's Got Talent.
Everyone will know her name.
What is her name?
Eve.
That's a shit name.
Let's call her Gloria.
Is this seat taken?
Oh my God! What are you doing talking to me?
Your parents are dead and I feel for you.
Is that turkey?
I like turkey.
It's proper nice.
Oh, yeah!
Your Highness?
How did you know it was me?
I'd recognise that arse anywhere.
You and I have some unfinished business, Liz.
A lot of time has passed, Kenton.
We were both young and foolish.
You've been playing hard-to-get for 45 years, your Majesty!
I'm not one of your corgis.
Don't play with me!
Not even if I...
threw a dog a bone?
Well, it would be the other way round. But yes.
Stephen Fry's dressing room...
five minutes.
Make it ten. I want to see Jenkins stretch that ring.
Ha ha! He! Ooh! Ah!
Oh my God!
Ricky?!
I'm sorry. I just felt bad for her.
More bad than I did for you.
All she's got is her violin and her Sybian.
Plus, she's got a really sexy upper half.
You never liked me for me.
You just pitied me.
Fat orphan! You're on.
You've got a tough act to follow, sweetheart.
Maybe you could start by talking about your dead parents.
Aaahh!
I can't do this.
It's all a lie.
I just wanted people to love me.
One particular person, anyway.
But he didn't love me for who I was.
And you don't love me for my music.
The truth is, my parents aren't dead.
They're alive and I miss them.
Get off my stage, darling.
Leave her alone!
She's my sister.
She's all I have left.
Err... Mum and Dad are actually alive, Jason.
Were you not listening to that?
What?! I'm really confused.
Go home, you untalented fatty.
Back off, Cowell, or I'll tell them who you really are!
Jason, you wouldn't.
Simon Cowell blackmailed me into spending the night with him.
They don't understand me.
I don't want to be mean.
I want to nurture young talent, but they won't let me.
Why me?
Why are you telling me?
I thought we were going to do stuff.
Wearedoing stuff.
Emotional stuff.
Yes, it's true.
I pay young boys so I can be myself in front of them.
I don't like humiliating people for entertainment.
I like puppies.
I like spooning.
I like high-waisted trouser pants.
I like koala bears,
coconut juice,
indoor non-competitive falconry
and bouncy castles.
Greg Wallace judges you.
Squidge, we need to talk.
You should know Elizabeth and I...
Well, I don't know how to say this.
I did not penetrate the Royal quarters.
Or, should I say, I did not feast upon the muffs of Windsor.
Nor did she kneel down and become my Beefeater.
So, like... Nothing happened between Liz and me.
Really?
We were close, Squidge. We were doing some role-play.
She was a member of the Royal Family and I a wealthy businessman.
Not the greatest role-play,
but what do you expect for an 86-year-old inbred?
Anyway, I heard Simon Cowell saying what really made him happy
and I realised I miss you, Squidge.
I missed you very much.
Play time?
Play time!
So, I'm thinking Malaysia hookers. Or is that a bit 2010?
Hello, love.
You're here!
What are you doing here?
We came to tell you we're not dead.
Still horny, but not dead.
I know. I made it up and I'm sorry.
I really missed you.
It's OK, love. Let's get you home.
Ooh, how was Wales?
Well, my love, it was shit.
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.