Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
Dad, I'm making a list for tomorrow's shop.
I want to get something special for Mum's visit.
Do we have to discuss this tonight, Susan? I'm tired.
I've been in the park all day
nailing warning signs to conker trees.
Warning signs?
"When using the fruit of council-owned horse chestnuts
"for recreational purposes,
"goggles must be worn."
Boom! You've totally made the Baselricky Bugle, Gerald!
"Conker killjoys say no to fun.
"What a bunch of horse chest nutters!"
I am aware of the media backlash, Victoria,
but I will not be pressurised into hypothetically endangering
the notional sight of a theoretical child.
Never mind the Baselricky Bugle,
I want to talk to you about Mum's visit.
It's our first family tea since the divorce.
Family?
A family is what your mother left.
Families change, Dad.
I'm with Victoria now and Mum's with Kyle and we have to welcome him.
I want you to make your famous onion quiche with Italian salami.
Susan, is that a satellite bin bag?
What? It is!
It's a satellite bin.
How many times do I have to tell you, girls,
when the swing bin is full,
you have to empty it!
Creating a satellite out of a plastic carrier bag from the supermarket
can only defer and redouble the inconvenience
whilst simultaneously diminishing the quality of the home environment!
Oh, my God! Bin rage!
I couldn't get the bag out.
No, Susan, because yet again,
you and Victoria have stuffed it
fuller than a banker's bonus!
It is a bin.
Its capacity is limited by its parameters.
Did you think it was bigger on the inside?
Like Dr Who's TARDIS?
I'm going to have to clamp it between my legs and tease it out.
Go on! Come on!
Come on, come on.
This is so a YouTube moment.
Vic, stop it!
Well, he's humping it. Like a dog on a leg.
What was your plan, girls?
Were you ever going to address the core problem?
Or just keep adding satellites
until you'd exchanged a full bin bag in the kitchen
for a kitchen full of bin bags?
Never mind bin bags, Dad,
are you going to cook Mum and Kyle your quiche or aren't you?
No, I am not.
I have agreed to attend this tea for your sake
but I am not going to play happy families
with the preening body builder.
I knew he was a swine the first moment he showed up.
The moment I saw that waxed chest.
It's just personal grooming.
Oh, is that what you call it? I call it fiddling with yourself.
Why can't everybody stop fiddling with themselves?!
Piercing, waxing, shaving, plucking.
Sticking nails in their nipples
and bolts in their belly buttons.
Rings through their noses, dinner plates in their ear lobes.
Just leave yourselves alone for a moment! Join a book club.
Do some social work.
I am so going to Songify this.
He probably waxes his scrotum.
They do, these metrosexuals.
In was in the Mail.
Ten years ago, that sort of thing would only have ever happened
on a Japanese game show!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I am trying to focus
on the extraction of an overstuffed bin liner,
which is a very delicate operation.
Always being careful not...!
To rip the top of the bag?
Don't you hate that?
Good shot, Bernard! Welcome to the wonderful world of Bonkers!
Contrary to reports in the media,
Team Health and Safety is saying yes to fun.
In fact, we're saying, "Hello, fun, you're welcome in Baselricky
"as long as you don't blind a child."
So, Clive, on a scale of one to ten,
how much fun were you having?
Is ten high or low, Gerald?
High, Clive, always high.
As in ten out of ten or a perfect ten.
Ten top. One bottom.
One bottom is always the rule.
Yes, that's absolutely right. Thank you, Bernard.
Although Antipodean opossums do have two vaginas.
I'm sorry, Bernard. I think I must be going deaf.
I thought you just said that Antipodean opossums have two vaginas.
Just a bit of pub quiz trivia for you there, Gerald.
You said that one bottom was always the rule,
which is, in fact, correct.
No creature has two bottoms,
but amazingly, most female marsupials have two vaginas.
Lucky male marsupials.
We don't make smutty comments in our fluros, Clive.
The males have double-headed penises.
I hate to think of the state of their toilet floors!
People, please!
Can we drop the subject of marsupial genitalia
and address the matter at hand.
We are playing Bonkers, Bernard,
and I asked Clive for a score on a scale of one to ten
on how much fun he was having,
with ten high, because ten out of ten is good.
One should be high, because one is first.
Yes. Lady Gaga wouldn't want a number ten, would she?
That woman's disgusting.
Leaping about in a G-string.
I bet she wishes she had two vaginas.
Twice as many to shove in peoples' faces.
I worship her. I'm one of her Little Monsters.
Because of her, I've given myself permission to love myself.
Well, I hope you'll be very happy together, Clive,
but Lady Gaga is not germane.
Yes, that's right. She's American.
Germane...
Bernard. Not German.
As in relevant and, in this case, relevant to my scale,
on which ten is high.
One should be high. Malika, it's just plain logic!
Oh, is it? Well, tell me this then, Gerald.
Year after year, when you and Valerie came first in the dance-off
at the work's Ballroom Night,
did you wish you'd come tenth?
I expect you and the Mayor will win this year's dance-off, Malika,
now that Gerald and Valerie have divor...
won't be competing.
That was the first thing I thought when she dumped him.
Can we please leave my ex-wife out of this? Team!
On a scale of one to ten, with ten high because it's my scale,
how much fun were you having playing Bonkers?
One.
You've overstepped the mark this time, Mr Wright.
The mark overstepped have you.
A stock laughing of us have you made!
Proof want I, Mr Wright!
Proof that conker playing dangerous is.
Or I will see you sacked, Mr Wright.
Sacked, Mr Wright, will I see you!
That is all and all, I might add, is that.
Mrs Maha.
Dance rehearsal? This evening, Mrs Maha?
Only five weeks left till the big Ballroom Night.
Till the big Ballroom Night five weeks only.
I'll be there, Mr Mayor. Then, cha-cha-cha, Mrs Maha.
Mrs Maha...
Cha-cha-cha.
So you're really not going to cook Mum your quiche?
No, Sue, I'm not.
Blimey. How long have we been standing here?
Shut up about the queue, Dad!
This is what drove Mum away.
You're just so stressy all the time.
I've got frozen goods, Susan, I'm entitled to be stressy.
My Mini Magnums are melting.
Now! That silly woman's Chunky Kit Kat won't scan.
Dad, it doesn't matter.
It does matter, Susan! This is the nightmare checkout scenario.
Frozen item meets faulty barcode.
It's a supermarket perfect storm.
It'll be fine. Will it?
I once got stuck behind a woman
with a tin of cat food that wouldn't beep.
By the time I got to the till,
my oven chips had turned into mashed potato.
Well, it's your own fault, the other queue was shorter,
but you insisted on joining this one.
Because, Susan, I know that woman on the other till.
She's got form.
What do you mean "she's got form"?
She's a bread crusher.
Grips your granary like she's throttling a cat
and you can never get them back into shape.
Every slice comes out looking like Marilyn Monroe.
Dude, I am so hearing you.
She crushed my Vogel loaf.
And the Vogel loaf is a very dense bake.
Hello? Sunflower and pumpkin seed.
Oh, my God, it's like a high-fibre breeze block.
But that bitch bruised it like it was a bap.
I'm worried about you, Vic.
I think you're going over to the dark side.
Chantelle! Cheryl! You shoppin' here?
Yeah! No! Yeah!
I'm shoppin' here! No! Yeah! Random! I know!
I'm like, "Oh, my God." I'm like, "Oh, my God."
I've got to tweet this. I've got to tweet this.
Excuse me, but this is a queue.
Oh my God, it's him. It's the nutter from the shop.
I am not a nutter, Miss.
I am just somebody who knows right from wrong.
You pushed in then and you're pushing in now.
She never pushed in. I saved her a place.
Don't give me that, love! You said it was random.
You tweeted it.
She's my mate. Everyone knows you can join a mate in the queue.
Only if the mate is keeping a place.
Not if it's random.
And you just said it was random,
so hop it or I'll get a store detective.
Hash tag... awkward.
I've had this since I was little.
We were at Alton Towers once and he did the same thing to Mum.
His own wife.
Gerald. That is psycho. Dot, dot, dot, stunned face.
But I hadn't been saving her a place.
She'd said she didn't want to go on the Death Dumper.
Do you think I liked sleeping on the couch for three weeks?
Our challenge, Team Health and Safety,
is to provide the Mayor with proof that playing conkers is dangerous.
The question is, how?
Well, don't we just whack 'em till someone gets a bit in their eye?
But we won't get a bit in the eye, Malika,
Because we'll be wearing goggles
in order to avoid getting a bit in the eye.
But if we wear goggles to avoid getting a bit in the eye,
how do we get a bit in the eye to prove that we need goggles
to avoid getting a bit in the eye?
I've gone all dizzy.
We approach the challenge scientifically,
establishing a General Recreational Environment Aptitude Test.
Acronimically...
G-R-E-A-T,
by means of a Ballistic Information Graph,
B-I-G...
..to record Conker Optimum Collision Knowledge.
C-O-C-K.
So, Clive, speak to me about my Great Big Cock.
Well, Gerald...
..we're still on conkers, are we?
What else, Clive?
Well, I've got this lovely box of Lindidindidors...
Yes...
And they're just like little chocolate conkers, really.
Same size, same shape.
So I was thinking, if we played with chocolates instead of conkers,
when we got a bit in the eye, it would just melt away.
You've come up with that idea so you can eat chocolates at work,
haven't you, Clive?
I saw it as a win-win situation.
Here's an idea, Gerald. Work with me.
Run it up your pole.
We need crash test dummies.
Put some glue on the eyes, see if any bits stick to them. Job done.
Bernard, that is blue-sky thinking, well done,
but we don't have the budget for dummies.
Remember we hired one to test that seesaw in Clement Attlee Park?
You sat on the other end, the dummy ended up in the duck pond.
It cost us 35,000 quid.
The shop I get my ballroom dresses made's got loads of old mannequins.
I bet we could rent a few off her for 20 quid.
Malika, that is inspired!
You are really thinking outside your box.
I beg your pardon!
You know Gary?
I took him on to help me with the heating at the care home.
Don't really follow your stuff in detail, babes.
I know it involves pipes.
He only plumbed the immersion into the grey water, didn't he?
Them old ladies have been flushing their toilets with hot water.
What a brilliant idea. Warm splash back.
I'm going to have to sack him now, which is just horrible.
Leadership is hard.
I think she's totes amaze to have a business at all.
I mean, I'm just crap. I'm like a kept babe.
Don't say that, Vic.
It's just more people need plumbers than DJs.
Which is so wrong, I think.
You'll get there, Victoria. You just need a start, that's all.
Keeping the faith, big guy!
Perseverance, Victoria,
a quality your generation would do well to consider.
And here is a case in point.
As you know, I have been Googling
"How to empty an overstuffed swing bin"
and I have got another result.
Dad, I still want to talk about Mum....
Now, the trick, apparently,
is to knot the bag,
then, up end the entire bin
and shake it up and down....
Oh, my God! Gerald's humping the bin again.
I am not humping it, Victoria, I am emptying it...
The bin liner's split.
But it is out.
Now, all we have to do is contain the spillage.
Dad, you haven't forgotten about Mum and Kyle coming round tomorrow?
No, Susan. I will be there.
With your quiche.
No, Sue. Not with my quiche.
Are these things designed so you can't get into them?
I think you're supposed to blow on them.
Good idea, Victoria. The moisture will enhance the viscosity.
They can detect trace radiation on the fringes of space
confirming the origins of the universe,
but they cannot design a bin liner you can get into!
Do not get me started.
It would be a favour to me, Dad!
I am not making my famous quiche for Valerie's boyfriend.
It's bad enough I've got to have him in me house.
Rejecting Kyle isn't going to bring Mum back because she's gone!
But she's still my mum and we're still a family
and if you care about me at all, you'll...
Oh, Susan...
Well done, Gerald. Really sensitive.
I know you miss her, Dad, but you've got to get through this.
We've got to get through this. You, me and Mum.
You think I'm being selfish, don't you?
Doh!
No, you're right. Of course, you're right. Valerie has started a new life.
I've lost her.
Time to accept it.
I'm sorry, Dad.
No, no, don't be sorry, it's me that should be sorry.
So I'm in town tomorrow with me team,
I shall pick up a salami and a couple of onions.
That is so a beautiful gesture.
Thanks, Dad.
You were trying to open the closed end.
Astonishing what people seem to find amusing, isn't it, Clive?
We need to manhandle Malika's mannequins
into conker observation mode.
They got a bit messed up in the service lift.
This one's nearly doubled up, Gerald.
Well, put it on the table, Clive,
get between its legs and push its chest.
Right. This one's bent over, I can't straighten it.
Sit across its lap, Malika, and grab its shoulders. OK.
The head on this one is twisted.
Right, I'll pull it from the front, you push from the back.
Mr Wright, what you doin'?!
Crucial Conker Impact Testing, Mrs Johnson. Isn't it obvious?
You're a filthy man, Mr Wright.
Nearly, nearly there.
I've got news.
Kyle and I have been talking about a big trip to Australia.
Australia? Well, it's just a bit grim here, yeah? And dirty.
I mean, hasn't anyone in the UK got a bloody broom?
You blokes used to run the world,
now it's almost like you've given up.
Pulled stumps and gone home.
Kyle says I'd look lovely on Bondi in a bikini.
Of course you will, Mum, but Australia?
It's such a long way.
You see! That's the Pommie problem right there.
"Ooh, big step. Scary. Can't do that, we're Poms."
"Don't do scary." Come on, guys!
Get over yourselves.
Kyle's been helping me look at the best way
to invest my divorce settlement, Sue.
And your degree in economics came from which fitness centre and juice bar?
It's all good, Sue.
I've trained some of the richest guys in Brissie.
I'm talking major CEOs.
I unblocked a dentist's dishwasher yesterday,
don't mean I could do you a filling.
Boom! Your face.
Hey, hey! Hostile?
Yeah? Are we doing that?
Are we going there? We so don't need to go there.
Da-da! Here it is!
Dad's famous onion and salami quiche. For you, Valerie.
And for Kyle. With love.
Up to you, babes. But... white flour, yeah?
Starch? Hello?
What you're looking at here is a fat arse.
Well, it's a sort of closure, I suppose, Sue.
I think I get it, she's gone for good.
Happy now?
Happy? Are you potty? I'm worried sick.
Mum's being played. This bloke's planning to rip her off.
Safe, you know? I'm know some bredren gon' mess him up, yeah.
You wan me call mah soldiers? Shank 'im good?
Cos a right bangalang!
This is really serious.
Mum's making a fool of herself.
We've got to stage an intervention.
Dad, I want you to talk to her.
Me? It's your fault she's with him.
My fault!
She's rebounded, flung herself at the complete opposite type to you.
Handsome, strong...
Confident, laid back...
Dangerous, sexy.
I am still here, you know.
No wonder her head's been turned.
You have to help her, Dad.
Take a leaf out of Kyle's book.
I am not waxing me scrotum!
I mean loosen up a bit. This is important.
If I can persuade Mum to talk to you,
will you try and get her to see sense about her money?
Yes, well, of course. I'll try.
You think it would help if I loosen up a bit? I can do that.
Yeah, right. Except, actually, er... no, you can't.
I can, Victoria. I can loosen up.
And for the final time, when you finish stirring your tea,
will you not put the wet spoon
back in the sugar bowl?!
Any bits stuck to the glue?
I'm afraid not, Gerald.
It's no good, Team Health and Safety.
We're going to have to concede defeat.
Listen, Gerald, just a thought. Leave it with you.
We could just cheat.
Cheat, Bernard?
Whoops! Incoming.
Ooh, kiddie cops a sixer.
Look out. Another one!
Oh... double whammy. Nasty.
Conker goggles all round.
No, Bernard. That is not the way I roll.
Although it is self evident
that the shattering of hardened nuggets of organic material
in the vicinity of kiddies' faces is dangerous,
we can't prove it and I will not falsify the evidence.
All we're saying is, don't rush, Mum.
Don't rush! Don't have fun!
Don't grab a chance to enjoy life?
Is that what you're saying, Sue?
I'm 43!
It's about time I did some bloody rushing.
Please, talk to Dad. Dad's sensible with money.
Oh, your Dad's sensible all right. He's sensible about everything!
Follow the rules, Valerie, there's a right way and a wrong way!
Well, there is when it comes to your savings.
If only he could have loosened up a little bit. We might...
Still be together?
Oh, I don't know, maybe. We were happy, you know.
For a long time.
He just ground me down.
He has loosened up, Mum, or at least he's trying.
Your dad? I'll believe that when I see it.
Believe it, Val.
Last night I put a wet spoon in the sugar bowl
and he was over it...
in like, ten minutes.
See! Please come round and talk to him, Mum.
He'll make a fresh quiche.
Oh, well... I wouldn't mind a bit of that quiche.
He's got lovely pastry fingers, your father.
I do miss him, you know.
It's just he ground me down.
Well, Mr Wright? Mr Wright, well?
Progress any?
To wit conkers. Shattered. Shards in eye thereof?
Evidence pertaining?
Not as such, Mr Mayor. It's a difficult procedure.
It's an up-balls total, Mr Wright.
Well, I would say more of a hiatus temporary than an up-balls total.
You've failed, Mr Wright. Failed have you. Conkers not dangerous are.
Full stop and stop full.
Therefore, the honourable only thing for you to do
is resign before I you sack.
In that case, I....
Resignation accepted, Mr Wright.
Can I have his job, then?
Nothing personal, Gerald,
but we don't want it going to some time server from public toilets.
No, quite right, Malika.
I'd like to hand the torch on to one of our own.
Well, Mrs Maha,
as long as assured I can be that the duties extra impact
not on your preparations for the big Ballroom Night, then....
Cha-cha-cha, Mrs Maha.
Mrs Maha...
Cha-cha-cha.
Oooh, Ferrarer Lindidindidindindors!
My favourite!
He's choking!
Heimlich manoeuvre, Team Health and Safety!
You saved my life, Mr Wright.
Life my saved you.
Yes, Mr Mayor!
And from what did I you save, ask I may?
A conker dangerous, Mr Wright.
A highly conker dangerous.
Mature cheddar, French butter,
fresh herbs, new jar of Dijon.
This is going to be the finest quiche I've ever made.
And whatever you do, don't go banging on.
If she puts a wet spoon in the sugar, forgive her.
If she doesn't screw the lid back on top of the Branston, ignore it.
If she tears off all of her clothes and throws them on the floor,
don't make her pick them up and fold them and put them in a drawer.
Blimey.
If she smears honey on her gazungas, don't wipe it off, lick it off.
Vic, shut up.
This isn't about getting Mum and Dad back together.
It's an intervention.
The important thing is to get her away from Kyle.
Oh, look, Chell. There's the nutter.
All right if we stand here, nutter?
We're not breaking any rules?
Hello, Gerald? Girls.
Hello, Valerie, what a surprise!
We were just doing a bit of shopping.
Oh, I just popped in to get a bottle of wine.
I thought I'd bring it round tonight to go with that quiche.
Great minds, eh?
Ooh. I shall have to be careful. I'll get tiddly.
Well, promises, promises!
Oh, my God! Wrinkly flirting. So sweet.
Don't be so fresh!
I'm just coming around to talk about my finances.
Excuse me, but you're not letting her in, are you?
Of course he's letting me in.
Everyone knows you can join a friend in a queue.
Only if the friend's keeping a place. Ain't that right, nutter?
And you just said it was a surprise.
So send her to the back.
Well, Gerald?
Say no, Dad!
Imagine honey all over her gazungas!
I beg your pardon? I'm sorry, Val,
but there's a right way and a wrong way.
And this was a random encounter, not a pre-arranged liaison...
You do understand...
Oh, I understand all right!
This is Alton Towers all over again, isn't it?
I will never forget the humiliation,
winding my way up that bloody queue
with all those snotty kids laughing at me.
I'd be delighted to come to the back with you, Val.
Oh, Gerald!
I'm sorry, Sue, but this was never going to work.
Dad is Dad. He will always be Dad.
It took me 20 years to work that out.
I can't believe I almost forgot it for a second.
If you want me, I will be at home with Kyle
watching Crocodile Dundee!
It looks like I blew it, eh?
You so did.
All I have left it seems is my work.
Thank goodness I still have my conkers.
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