Agh!
Hello?
What about ye?
Roddy? What'd you ring me for?
Just checking you were in.
There's something I want you to see. Wait till you see this.
Healthy Man?
Well, fair play to you, Roddy, wanting to be a man and healthy at the same time!
Look at that there. "Eight-day abs."
Eight-day abs - that's what I'm going for.
The old abbreviations.
I had great abbreviations when I was a young fella.
He did all right.
He was known as JTP -
Jabba the Pat.
At least I don't have to tuck me boobs inside me skirt.
I'm not the one needing the bra.
We could lay you on your side and you could feed a litter of six.
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
There's a competition in here, right,
where you can win two weeks in Spain
and a lovely wee car.
Look. There used to be a programme years ago over in Ireland -
I don't know if you remember.
It was called Housewife Of The Year.
Oh, wasn't that that thing you were in, Mum, when I was a kid?
Oh, yes.
Well, they're doing a version over here called Househusband Of The Year, Tom,
and you'd be brilliant for it.
Like, I'm not eligible for it because, you know,
I'm not a husband any more and I don't live in a house.
But you - you are a househusband.
Would you stop saying that? Give me that.
I don't believe it!
Gerty Howlett!
Gerty Howlett?! Gerty Howlett?
Only the woman who won in 1978.
We were through God knows how many rounds and we were exhausted,
but it was neck and neck going into the final challenge,
the Hoover dash for the finish line.
Good girls, yourselves.
They're neck and neck...
I nearly had it. Everyone thought I was going to win.
This is very unusual, now.
The favourite, Mary Whyte, seems to have left the course.
But it was not to be.
I was disqualified. Seeing Gerty
hold that trophy was like a knife in my heart.
That day belonged to me, not to her.
Ooh!
Gerty Howlett.
She had lovely legs.
What are you smacking me for, woman?
It was Tom's fault you lost.
Me?! Yeah!
Your mother had to run off the track to wipe your nose.
It was my fault?!
Don't worry about it, Tom.
I could have had it all, but you had a runny nose.
Don't feel guilty that you ruined the best day of my life.
You should feel guilty, Tom.
And how you make it up to your lovely wee mammy
is to win that holiday and that lovely wee car.
I haven't got time for competitions. I'm too busy here.
That's the spirit, Tom. Spoken like a true househusband.
Oh, Spain here we come!
Well, that's me out. I'd get bitten to death.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen,
this is not a competition to be taken lightly.
This is not a game. It is blood, sweat and tears.
It's a battle of wits.
It took over my whole life when I was in training.
So this... man couldn't ever even attempt
the mammoth task that is Housewife...
Husband. ..Husband Of The Year.
Don't meddle with things that you don't understand.
Still, eh, Tom? Eh?
Wee holiday? Lovely wee car, eh, Tom? Ole, Tom?
No-le, Roddy.
I'm no poxy househusband.
Mercy me! For the love of God!
I've only hung that washing out ten minutes ago.
Me work's never done!
Into the corners, the corners. Come on, Tim.
Corners, corners, corners.
Hospital corner, hospital corner.
Shirt.
Hello, Tim.
Can't talk, Tom - training.
Ironing in the rain?
Am I? Hadn't noticed.
What you training for? Househusband Of The Year. God, I've been waiting
for something like this my whole life. I'm bloody ready.
- Excuse the language. - Bloody ready.
Language! Yes. Boxers.
Is it that Healthy Man thing?
Very same, Tom. Hope you're not thinking of entering.
Why? Not ready, pal. Don't have the hunger. Hunger?
The hunger... to be a man-mum.
A dad?
No, Tom, no. A man-mum.
To be both a man and a mum at the same time. And I...
am a man-mum.
You're an idiot.
Time?
Four minutes, 26 seconds.
Get in! Yes, come on!
Good, good, good. But we can do better.
First positions, please.
Isn't that, er...?
Gerty Howlett!
What in the name of God are you doing in that garden?
The secret weapon, Mary.
Saw she was coming over for the competition and bang!
Signed her up for Team Tim.
Mary Whyte and her little runny-nosed boy Tom.
Yes, it is.
He's in the competition too.
Am I? Of course you are, Tom.
I'm training him.
You? Ha!
Yes, me. Ha!
You'll never get that into the shape of this.
Come on, baby.
You see?
Well, may the best woman win.
Oh, she will.
I wish you all the best of luck, Mary.
And to you... Gerty.
Listen, sugar lumps, word of advice -
leave the man-mum stuff to the pros.
Don't want you to get hurt.
Gerty... Mary...
Tom... Tim...
Runny nose.
Moustache. Stupid face.
Tit.
Come along, Mother.
Ooh!
I am not entering a sexist competition like that.
Like I don't have enough to do with all the washing and cleaning.
Look, Tom, I am not a woman to hang on to a grudge...
but that auld bag out there cannot beat us again.
I will have my revenge.
No way. I am not doing it.
Are you ready, Tom?
Ready. Right. Now, remember,
some things you hoover up, some you don't. Got it?
Got it. OK. Go.
Rice.
Hoover, Tom, hoover.
That's it, Tom, nice steady strokes.
I know how to bloody hoover, Mum.
Lego!
Whoo! Ha-ha! Yeah!
No, no, no, Tom.
Disqualified.
That's a rookie mistake.
They will get you on that every time.
Remember, destroy the dirt, leave the Lego.
Right, we'll try the team song.
We have a team song?
♪ One, two, three, four
♪ We like a tidy floor
♪ Five, six, seven, eight
♪ Dirt and Lego separate. ♪
♪ One, two, three, four
♪ We like a tidy floor ♪ We love a tidy...
♪ Five, six, seven, eight
♪ Gerty Howlett terminate
♪ Three, five, seven, nine... ♪
That title was rightly mine!
Er, Mum...
OK.
Ready, Mary?
OK, kids.
Run!
Scissors!
Tom, Tom, Tom! The kids are running with scissors in the house.
For God's sake, do something!
These are so sharp and I'm running so fast!
I'm hoovering!
You got to multitask if you want to be a man-mum.
I'm going to have my eye out with these!
Kids out, Pat in. Pat.
Where's me dinner?
Get it yourself!
Oh, no, no, no, Tom.
You might think that, but you would never say it out loud.
No, you simply smile and serve up a feast fit for MasterChef.
I can't do this, Mum. There's too much to remember.
You've got to keep on top of it, son.
The judges could pop in at any moment and try to catch you out.
That's how they do it.
Your husband needs attention.
He's only just got in from work. Slippers!
OK.
Slippers.
Ah, you haven't warmed these up.
Oh, my God!
They're not going on properly.
His feet are rejecting them!
Where's me cup of tea?
He'll never be ready, Roddy.
I can't work with this.
Come on, Pat. We might as well leave.
It seems that Gerty Howlett has beaten us once again.
One, two, three, four...
Pat! I'll have to go.
Come on, mate. Up you get.
I can't. I'm too tired, Roddy.
I'm too tired.
Aye, son. Being a man-mum is a hell of a task, isn't it?
You coulda been a contender, son.
You coulda been a contender, huh?
Shame about that lovely wee car, as well.
Tom...
Elaine?
Elaine!
Get up off your arse.
You've got a holiday to win.
I can't. I'm done.
I am done.
That's what I said when I was pushing Dylan out at the hospital
but what did you say to me?
"If you think you have it bad, you want to see it from this end."
That's right, you did. But you were still there for me.
You're my man.
OK. All right, then. We'll start in the morning.
No, we'll start now. Come on.
Oh, I've been training all day.
Mum made me do awful things. I had to cut Dad's toenails.
I threw up twice.
Come on, Tom. Do it for your mum.
Do it for me.
Do it for yourself, Tom. That's all that matters.
That's all that matters? And the car and the holiday in Spain.
But yes, Tom. Do it for yourself.
Can you do it?
Yes.
I can't hear you.
Yes. Ugh!
Tim wouldn't quit.
Oh, yeah.
He just keeps going and going.
He never stops.
He makes me sick with his moustache and his positivity
and his moustache!
Well, I'll show him!
The moustache face.
That's my man-mum!
Who's a man-mum?
I am!
Yes!
Agh!
Ooh!
Waargh!
The Hoover's broken!
Ready, Tim?
Ready.
You have mastered the spirit of the Hoover,
the ways of the washing
and the power of the iron.
Now you must conquer the harshest housewife environment -
the kitchen. Conquer the kitchen, yes.
Be at one with the cupboards and the floor.
I am the door. I feel the hinge.
Are you ready, Tim?
Ready.
Go!
Cupcakes!
Decorate!
Dainty, dainty!
The dinner, Tim!
Time? Three minutes, 19 seconds!
Get in! Yes!
We'll show those judges...
and that Mary Whyte and her so-called son.
Time?
Nine hours, 28 minutes and seven seconds.
I'm so tired, Elaine!
We're all tired, Tom.
God! We're never going to get to go on holiday.
I quit!
I didn't raise a quitter!
Mum! What are you doing here at this hour?
She dragged me out of my bed.
I was having a lovely dream of living on a chocolate boat
with biscuits for oars,
sails of sweet rice paper,
floating on a caramel sea.
Shut up, Jabba!
You...
You need to dig deep.
You need to get in touch with your inner mammy.
Tom... there are three stages to finding your inner mammy.
The first stage is to find the right mammy face.
Now...
Sad mammy.
No!
Never let them see that you're hurting.
Let the pain that you're feeling fester within you.
Now, sad mammy.
Good, Tom, good.
Sad mammy.
No!
Always look happy!
Angry mammy!
No! Hide it!
Come on! Look, you've no money in your bank account,
the bills are flying through the door
and your husband just drank all the Christmas presents.
Come on, come on!
I-I can't! I can't!
No, no, no, no!
I told you, I will not tolerate quitters.
Now, sad mammy.
Sad, angry, happy.
Come on! Sad mammy.
Good, Tom. Good, Tom. Good, Tom.
Now, Tom, you need to master the relaxation techniques of the mammy.
What?
You need to go to a small, dark place where no-one can see you.
OK.
Surround yourself with cushions and scented candles.
I'm too tired to light candles.
You need to go to that tiny, tranquil place
in the very middle of your soul
and you need to fill it...
with gin.
This is the final phase and the most difficult, Tom -
coping with the crap that comes out of their air hole.
I don't know why I go to the doctor any more.
He's normally a young fella, so I should be telling him
what's wrong with him,
instead of him telling me what's wrong with me.
Just ignore him, Tom.
He's talking, his lips are moving, but there's nothing there.
Don't let him break you.
Good man, Tom. Keep going.
No-one wants to know.
You get to my age and there's no point in living.
They make the steps on the buses higher,
so pensioners like me can't get up on them.
It's just noise.
You know what you don't see any more?
A fella with a good hump.
When I was a lad, they were ten a penny.
You head off into town now and you'd be hard pressed to find a good hump.
Hold.
I blame this cosmetic surgery that has made humps extinct.
Time? 48 seconds.
Well done, Tom. Fine man yourself, Tom.
You know, I don't know how I'm still alive,
listening to that muck all my life.
Do you think he's ready, Mary?
I don't know. Oh, he must be.
Tom?
Where's my best tea set?
He's ready.
Very good, Tom. Very good.
Oh, great. Me favourites.
No!
Who's that? Pat!
Two weird-looking blokes, with blazers.
The judges. I knew there'd be no warning.
Remember your inner mammy and stay focused.
They'll try to trip you up at every corner.
OK.
Ladies and gentlemen, the judges.
Mr O'Reilly...
and Mr McGrath. You're very welcome.
I am Mary...
Ah, the great Mary Whyte, from the famous face-off of '78.
A true contender.
Yes, a true contender.
And tell me, did you have many entries this year, sirs?
Oh, er, many, many entries, Mary.
Well, thank you for coming, gentlemen.
And this is my son Tom.
Hello, Tom.
Hello, sirs. Hello.
This must be the good wife and these must be your young lads.
Yes, this is Drew. He's nine.
This is Dylan. He's 12.
And this is Elaine - she's...
my wife.
Tom, you have a very tidy home
and the children haven't spoken... so far.
But don't you find that children are the natural enemy
of a tidy, well-run home?
Oh, yeah, sure.
If it wasn't for my wife, I would've sold them to the circus ages ago.
Very good. Very good.
But of course, as a, er, caring househusband...
I'm only joking!
Double bluff! Excellent work, Tom.
We're done with you now.
You may go to the garden and play with your hoops.
And now... your wife.
Hello.
So, tell me - how long are you together?
Ooh, er... Tom?
Oh, er... How long, Tom?
Er... Is it 15 and a half years?
Correct!
I've never been wrong about a lady's face yet.
It's almost as if you can tell what they're thinking.
Excellent. Please take a seat.
And finally, just a few questions.
Oh, no problem.
What's the best way of descaling a kettle -
white vinegar, marbles or a sand blaster?
A sand... No, no - white vinegar.
How often should you clean your lavatory?
Oh, it's, er, once a...
Oh! Every time it's used.
What should you do after handling raw chicken?
Oh, disinfect the work surfaces, boil the knife and burn your clothes.
And finally, Tom, if I spilled red wine on this carpet,
would I clean it up with a mop, pour salt on it,
or dab it with a tissue?
None of the above.
I wouldn't let red wine in this good room.
Well, we've seen enough.
I'm sorry to say that...
you've got to pack your bags.
You're coming all the way to Birmingham
for the finals of Househusband of the Year.
Thanks very much. Brilliant!
Oh, well done, son.
And to think, you'll be up against your neighbour.
Yes, Tim Curtain.
Good day to you.
Gerty Howlett.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Househusband Of The Year!
And please welcome your host, Mr Roni Broad!
Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.
Yes, indeed, welcome to the Househusband Of The Year.
The first of its kind, coming to you from the great metropolis of...
Birmingham, yes. But firstly, ladies and gentlemen,
would you please welcome our intrepid contestants.
Firstly we have Tim - it's curtains for you - Curtain!
Oh, look at that. Ha-ha!
And then we have Tom - whiter than white - Whyte!
That's great, huh?
Fantastic, fantastic. Smashing tracksuits.
Tell me, lads, how are you feeling, Tom?
I'm sharper than a crease on a freshly ironed pair of slacks!
Very good.
And you, Tim? Hotter than a polycotton duvet on a boil wash!
Oh, very good. Very good. So tell me, Tom,
what would winning Househusband Of The Year mean to you, huh?
Well, Roni, I just want to be a good role model for my family.
That's lovely, lovely.
And Tim? To hold that trophy aloft
and then ram it down Tom's neck!
But I'd polish it first!
Well, audience, I think Tom and Tim are ready to be...
A man-mum!
Snappy with that nappy.
Bash out the bootees.
Kill him, Dad!
Plump up the volume!
The boys are starting to get a bit tired now.
Tom Whyte didn't have a great shampoo and set round there, huh?
Well, after 34 rounds,
our two valiant househusbands are neck and neck,
which means this final round will be the decider.
Ladies and gentlemen, the grand finale.
So, firstly our men will have to find a single red sock,
which is hidden here in this white laundry.
Then on to scrub that toilet clean, and finally on to
our famous ten-metre Hoover dash to the finish line.
Are you ready, men?
Right. On your marks.
Get set.
Go!
Right, there they go now.
They're off to try and find that single red sock
amongst all of that white lot of... Oh, Tim's out first.
Good man, Tim, well done.
Tom is struggling a bit here,
but he should be able to find it somewhere.
Tom's out now. Good man, Tom. Off he goes.
Oh, look at that.
Our boys are scrubbing for their lives.
That's it. Come on, lads. You can do it.
Give them a bit of encouragement there, folks. Come on.
Yes!
Oh, very good, but Curtain's only a flush behind him!
To the ten-metre Hoover dash!
Quicker, Tom!
Oh, my God. Oh, my God, what a disaster!
After 35 rounds, we may not have a winner.
I haven't seen a disaster like this since...
Well, do you remember the infamous Housewife Of The Year 1987? Huh!
When poor old Audrey Jenkinson
tragically got her own face caught in a Hoover.
Well, this is unprecedented. Both our finalists are incapacitated.
Talk to me now - what do you want to do?
If they have. Right. OK.
All right, so listen, the judges have conferred.
They will allow a substitution from each side -
but is there anybody in here who's man enough to take it on?
I'll do it!
Well, this is unbelievable.
Now we have two titans of Housewife Of The Year 1978 -
Mary Whyte and Gerty Howlett. Ha-ha!
They're once again locked in mortal combat
for this prestigious trophy.
And may I say, girls, you haven't changed one bit.
There we are. Now, are we ready?
On your marks.
Get set.
Go!
'I could have had it all but you had a runny nose.'
Mary! Mary!
Pat!
I'm here! I love you, Mary.
I love you too, Pat!
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.