Full EpisodeOne Man, Two Guvnors

Featuring a Tony Award-winning performance by CBS Late Late Show host James Corden, the hilarious West End and Broadway hit One Man, Two Guvnors by playwright Richard Bean delighted critics and audiences alike during its West End and Broadway productions in 2011 and 2012.

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-Next on 'Great Performances'... James Corden shines in the breakout role that earned him a Tony award.

-I don't get confused that easily.

Yes, I do.

I'm my own worst enemy. Stop being negative.

I'm not being negative. I'm being realistic.

-Meet out-of-work musician Francis Henshall... -A friend of mine likes you.

-...looking for love and his next meal.

-What kind of sandwich is it?

Hummus?! -It's usually more famine than feast for Francis.

-You'll need this letter of authorisation.

-But when his luck changes, he lands two jobs, and that means two bosses.

-How come you already have a letter of authorisation?

-This is trickier than I thought.

-And both guvnors aren't what they seem.

-♪ But I got two guvnors -Return to the swinging 1960s with a zany cast of characters in playwright Richard Bean's hilarious slapstick comedy.

-♪ Tomorrow looks good -James Corden stars in 'One Man, Two Guvnors' next.

♪ -Major funding for 'Great Performances' is provided by... ...and by contributions from viewers like you.

♪♪ ♪♪ -♪ She's a first class kinda woman ♪ ♪ She's the girl I love the best ♪ ♪ 'Cause she can rattle on all through the night ♪ ♪ And never need to rest ♪ She was born right there in London ♪ ♪ But she moved down to the coast ♪ ♪ She's a first class kinda woman ♪ ♪ She's the girl I love the most ♪ ♪ She could curse miles on end ♪ Drive you 'round the bend ♪ When she runs it's like a glimpse of the divine ♪ ♪ And the thrills are guaranteed ♪ ♪ When you ride a rightful speed ♪ ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ On the Brighton line, on the Brighton line ♪ ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ And the regulars know that she likes to tease ♪ ♪ When she shudders ♪ All the others stumble to their knees ♪ ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ Now I can't help but start to drool ♪ ♪ As she guzzles up the fuel ♪ And the motion sends a shiver down my spine ♪ ♪ I get jealous, can't you see ♪ 'Cause the guards can ride for free ♪ ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ Hey!

♪ On the Brighton line ♪ Yes, the Brighton line ♪ The London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ And I swear to you if I could ring her bell ♪ ♪ That she'd tell you no one else ♪ ♪ Had rung it quite as well ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ On the Brighton line ♪ Yes, the Brighton line ♪ She's the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ When her wheels all chatter and the engine purrs ♪ ♪ Well, you never heard a racket ♪ ♪ That compares to hers ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪ You can keep your London to St Leonards-on-Sea ♪ ♪ 'Cause she got the carriage that does it for me ♪ ♪ On the London to Brighton line ♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ -Pauline and Alan!

-Pauline and Alan!

-Come on, Charlie, give us a speech.

-Speech! -Speech! Speech!

-I don't like public speaking.

I'd rather jump out of an aeroplane.

-Go on then.

-I've only ever spoken three times, formally, in public, in my life, and each time I've been banged up by the judge straight afterwards.

I done me best bringing up Pauline on me own, after her mother... Sorry... -Doing well, Charlie.

-I've had to be her dad and her mum after her mother... -It's alright, Dad.

-...after her mother left me and went to live in Spain.

It's a disappointment that Jean can't be here in Brighton at her daughter's engagement party.

And a shame she can't even afford a stamp for a card neither.

But I'm not going to go on about it.

Alan, welcome to my family.

I always wanted a son, and me and Jean had been trying for a couple of years before she... But a man can't whatsaname a son, not on his own, can he?

Not yet anyway.

I'd like to thank Alan's father, my solicitor -Ecce homo. -No Latin, please.

I have enough difficulty understanding you when you're speaking English.

But, seriously, without Harry, I wouldn't be here today.

I'd be behind bars Where, let's face it, by rights, I ought to be.

Over to you, Alan.

-Pauline, I give you my hand.

-[ Gasps ] He wants to be an actor.

-Captive within my hand is a bird.

This bird is my heart. -Is it a real bird?

-No, it's a metaphor. -Oh, lovely.

-I offer you the whole of my life as your husband.

-I could do with a bit of this myself.

Know what I mean?

-I accept your bird-heart thing, and I promise to look after it properly.

Oh!I got a bird in my hand and all.

-That's two birds now, I'm gonna have to get in a box of Trill.

-This bird is my heart, the only one I've ever had.

-[ Gasps ] Oh!

-Nunc est bibendum.

-Keep an eye on these two.

They're gonna try and get a room on their own.

-Champagne!

-I think for Pauline and Alan, we need a bucket of cold water.

-May I propose a toast to love in Latin?

-Oh, no.

-Ars amandi.

-No, Pauline.

-'Ars amandi' is the art of love.

-I don't understand.

-This is why I love her.

She is pure, innocent, unsoiledby education, like a new bucket.

-To love!

-To love! -To love!

[ Doorbell rings ] -Dolly, get the door.

-Bookkeeper or butler? Make your mind up.

-And if it's carol singers, tell them to piss off.

It's only April.

-So you're Charlie's solicitor then?

-Harry Dangle. Dangle, Berry and Bush.

My card.

-Oh. No win, same fee?

-That's us.

-Charlie tells me you're brilliant.

-Put it this way, I got the Mau Mau off.

Are you family, Lloyd?

-No, no. An old friend.

Me and Charlie go way back.

Parkhurst.

-Dad, me and Alan, we're gonna go up to my room to play some records.

-Do I look like I just came down in the last shower?

No. Mingle. -Man, what's going on?

Last week I get this invitation to an engagement party... -Put that away.

-...of Pauline Clench and Roscoe Crabbe, which was a shock because I always thought that Roscoe was ginger.

-He was ginger.

He was as queer as a whiskey and Babycham.

That was the whole point.

It was gonna be a marriage of convenience, wasn't it?

-But todayand it's a different groom, man.

-Because Roscoe's dead.

Pauline and this Alan wanted to get engaged, so I thought... -'I've paid for the sausage rolls, so why waste them?'

-Exactly.

-Man!

They don't call you Charlie the Duck for nothing.

Tight, man.

Tight as... -Some geezer from London.

Says he's Roscoe Crabbe's minder.

-He can't be much of a minder.

Roscoe's dead.

-Is he a face? Does he look handy?

-To be honest, he looks a bit overweight.

-Check him out, Lloydie. See if he's tooled up.

-Charlie, I don't work for you no more.

-Leave it to me, boys.

-More guests?

-Roscoe Crabbe's minder.

-Oh, dear.There's no peace for the wicked.

Nemo malus felix.

-If all he wants is the cat, he can have it.

-But I understand there was a knife fight and Roscoe Crabbe was mortally wounded?

-No, he was killed. -Good riddance.

-The Old Bill are looking for his twin sister, Rachel, and her boyfriend. -Because?

-Revenge.

The boyfriend testified against Roscoe in court.

Put him away for four years. Man, it's obvious.

Who is Roscoe Crabbe gonna get into a fight with on his first day of freedom?

-Rachel's boyfriend.

-He's clean. Shall I let him in?

-Yeah. What can I do?

-She's a smashing girl is Rachel.

Nothing like that vicious little toerag of a brother.

-It's the little guys who are the worst.

-You can say that again.

-I think Roscoe was a bit whatsaname, you know?

What's that word for someone who likes inflicting pain?

-Police officer?

-No. -Sadist.

-That's Roscoe.

-Unusual for twins to have such different personalities.

-They was identical twins, you see, Roscoe and Rachel.

-They were not identical twins.

Roscoe was a boy, and Rachel is a girl.

-So? -Identical means identical.

-What I want to know is, if Roscoe's dead, what's his minder doing on my doorstep?

-Who's that?

-That's the Queen. -What a beautiful woman.

Someone should write a song about her.

[ Sniffles ] -This is my engagement party. -Your engagement party?

Phew, phew, 'cause I'm glad it ain't yours, beautiful eyes.

-Thank you. -Don't ever wear glasses.

Even if you need to, you know, for reading.

-I know exactly what he's after, and if he carries on like this, he's gonna get it.

What about glasses for driving?

-Are you one of them women's libbers?

-Would that be a problem?

-No, I like a woman who can drive.

That way I can go out, have a skinful, and get home without killing anyone.

-Are you married to...? -I'm single. I'm the bookkeeper here.

-So you're a single, working, driving, bookkeeping woman?

Cor!

That's my type.

You fancy going to Majorca for a couple of weeks?

Think about it.

I got it.

-I like this geezer.

But he can't tell his arse from a bank holiday.

-This man is a clown. Oh!

-Everyone in the circus loves a clown.

So, when you say 'This man is a clown,' what you're actually saying is 'I love you.'

Are you Charlie the Duck? -No.

-No? -No.

-Have I got the wrong house?

The invitation said... -I'm Charlie the Duck.

-You don't look like a duck. -Who are you?

-Good idea. Let's do the big questions.

Who am I? Why am I here? -What do you want?

-Is there a God, and is he loving or judgmental?

Let's hope he's loving, 'cause if he's judgmental, we're all in the... -You're Roscoe Crabbe's minder. -Yes, I am.

And I've got an invitation to his engagement party.

This party. -Roscoe's dead.

-If Roscoe's dead, who's that sat outside in the motor, listening to the shipping forecast?

-Oh, my God, no! -No!

-He's risen from the dead, has he?

-Oh, yeah. It only took him two days.

That's one day quicker than the previous world record.

So?

Can he come in?

To his own engagement party?

-I guess.

-Good, I'll go and get him.

[ Clicks tongue ] -Dad, no. Don't let him in!

I love Alan. I don't love Roscoe. I never did.

-You was perfectly happy with Roscoe six month back.

-He's missed the boat.

-Roscoe Crabbe can be as late as he likes.

And we have an arrangement.

-An arranged marriage worthy of a Molière farce, contemptible even in the 17th century.

-Yeah, Dad, this is the 19th century now.

-Yeah, well, what do you offer my daughter, Alan?

'I want to be an actor.'

You can't get more flaky.

-All I offer is love.

My love for your daughter eclipses poetry.

My love is ethereal, pure... like the kind of water you're supposed to put in a car battery.

-I'm glad you like her.

-Long time no see, Charlie. -Yeah.

You look well, Roscoe... all things considered.

This is Lloyd, good friend of mine.

Dolly, my bookkeeper, my solicitor, Harry Dangle.

He's good.

-Are you the guy that got the Mau Mau off?

-It wasn't easy.

-And 'course, you remember Pauline.

-You look fantastic, Pauline.

Who are you?

-Whole nations will be slainbefore you take my love from me.

-Why's he talking like an actor?

-He wants to be an actor.

-Oh, alright.

Who are you then?

-I am your nemesis!

-Francis, what's a nemesis?

-Don't know, guv. Definitely foreign.

I think it might be a Citroen.

-What's going on, Charlie?

-We thought you was dead.

-If you thought I was dead, why would you go ahead with my engagement party?

-You know, I'd already paid for the sausage rolls and... -If you thought I was dead?! -The word was, you were murdered.

Pauline's met someone else.

-Horror bollocks over there?

-Yeah.

-So, let's have another go.

What's your name?

-Alan!

-I have a prior arrangement with Charlie and Pauline, Alan.

It's not love. No, it can't be love.

This is good news for you, Alan, because the deal guarantees Pauline complete freedom in affairs of the heart, as long as she is discreet.

-My love for Pauline is not discreet!

It shouts from the rooftops, 'Look at me, look at me, I am love!'

-It shall be my son who marries Pauline.

Come on, Alan, we're going. -Don't leave me here, Alan.

-Mr. Charles Clench, you will be hearing from me.

-I can explain. -Post hoc, ergo hic haec hoc.

-I shall return. Like a storm.

And everybody will get wet!

-Pauline, over here.

Behave.

-It's 1963, Dad.

You can't force me to marry a dead homosexual.

-He's not dead, is he?

-He is homosexual, though.

-We've only got his word for that.

-Aah! -Come back here!

Give me a minute, Roscoe.

[ Door closes ] -Hey, you remember -- -Lloyd Boateng.

My sister worked the bar for you at The Palm Tree.

-Rachel, yeah. What's she doing?

-She runs this nightclub now.

It's her boyfriend's. The Stiletto, Mile End.

-I've heard it's rough.

Criminals, gangsters, Princess Margaret.

-The kid's upset. She thought you was dead.

Do you want a sandwich?

-Yes! Yes, please.

We had to skip breakfast, you see.

-We're going to eat later.

What's your understanding of the deal, Charlie?

-I settle the debt I owed your father, paid to you on the day of your engagement.

-6,200 today.

-Pauline, as your public wife, gets 2 grand a year for attending functions on your arm.

-And she gets the house in Debden.

-And Debden.

-Have you got the money, Charlie?

-I can give you a cheque. 6,200.

-Banker's draught. And I'll take the 200 in cash.

-Dolly, phone the bank, get them to knock up a banker's draught for 6 grand.

-For 6,000? -That's what I said, yeah.

Are you boys staying in Brighton?

-Can you recommend somewhere?

-I certainly can. The Cricketers' Arms.

-Do they do sandwiches? -Wash your mouth out.

It's a pub that does food. Lloyd is the landlord.

He's had a three-year training as a chef.

-Parkhurst.

-That might be the most beautiful sentence in the English language -- 'A pub that does food.'

-Go ahead in the motor. Where is this pub?

-...that does food.

-Go down Clifton Hill, past the British Legion, right opposite the Methodist Chapel, left at the Salvation Army, opposite the Church of the Seventh Day Adventists.

Go past the Jehovah's Witnesses, completely ignore them, and next door is the St. John's Ambulance.

We're 'round the back of there.

-You got that, Francis?

-Guv, for a pub that does food, there'll be a star in the sky.

-Aah! [ Giggles ] I've got the bank on the phone.

-I don't know why they want to talk to me.

What's the problem?

-Rachel!

-Oh! Looking pretty good, Lloydie.

-Girl! What is all this with the rude-boy disguise?

-The Old Bill are looking for me.

Can I trust you?

-You're like a daughter to me.

-Roscoe is dead.

My boyfriend killed my twin brother, yeah.

I should hate Stanley for that.

But I love him.

Have you ever been in love, Lloyd?

-True love? Yes, once.

Parkhurst.

-I'm gonna go raise that 200 folding.

Make yourself at home, Roscoe.

You know, you're family now.

-I have a problem, Lloyd. You.

-Me? No way, man.

-Me and Stanley are gonna have to go and live in Australia. -Australia?! Oh, no, man!

Oh, my God, no.

That's really terrible. Australia?! You poor thing, girl. Why Australia?

Do you like opera?

-Well, not especially, but we've no choice.

We sail from Southampton on Monday, the morning tide.

The police will be watching the ports, so... -Brighton's near enough but safer.

-And Charlie the Duck lives here, and we need money.

-I guess.

You said I am a problem.

Why's that, girl?

-I'm gonna rip Charlie off, and Charlie's your friend.

-Ah, no, man.

Charlie is as bent as a snake in a bottle.

I'm only here today 'cause I'm hoping to do the food for the wedding reception.

You're safe with me, girl.

Where is your Stanley now?

-Brighton, somewhere.

I've left a letter for him at the post office with instructions for a rendezvous.

I pray to God he's alright.

♪♪ ♪♪ -♪ Sweet Susie at the seaside ♪ Waiting for her beau ♪ She gets a little itchy in case he doesn't show ♪ ♪ See, he has got a history of leaving her high and dry ♪ ♪ But still her ticker skips a beat with every passer-by ♪ ♪ Don't let him take you for a fool, Susie ♪ ♪ He's playing hard at playing cool, Susie ♪ ♪ You teach him not to treat you cruel, Susie ♪ ♪ Oh, sweet Susie, who does he think he is? ♪ ♪ Well, several ice creams later ♪ ♪ And still he hasn't shown ♪ Everywhere there's couples, she's the only girl alone ♪ ♪ A pensioner approaches, daundering down the pier ♪ ♪ Recognises Susie and bellows in her ear ♪ ♪ Don't let him take you for a ride, Susie ♪ ♪ Why ain't you got no sense of pride, Susie? ♪ ♪ You stitch him up and blow him wide, Susie ♪ ♪ Sweet Susie, who does he think he is? ♪ ♪ A long time after nightfall ♪ Down there on the shore ♪ There's a single figure feeling sad and raw ♪ ♪ Could it be sweet Susie, waiting for him still? ♪ ♪ Nah, she's elsewhere ♪ Partying with Tom and Dick and Bill ♪ ♪ You let him wonder where you are, Susie ♪ ♪ Keep dancing on that fancy bar ♪ ♪ Susie ♪ Where were you hiding that cigar, Susie? ♪ ♪ Oh, sweet Susie, you see what you've done? ♪ ♪ You've played him at his own sweet game and won ♪ ♪♪ -My father, Tommy Henshall, God rest his soul, he would have been proud of me, what I've done with my life.

Until today I used to play washboard in a skiffle band.

But they all went to see the Beatles on Tuesday night and sacked me Wednesday morning.

It's ironic really, because I actually started the Beatles.

Yeah.

I went to see them in Hamburg. They were rubbish.

I said to that John Lennon, I said, 'John, this is embarrassing.

You're going nowhere, mate.

Have you thought about writing your own songs?'

So I'm skint, I'm busking, I've got me guitar, mouth organ on a rack,bass drum tied to me right foot.

And the definition of mental illness -- cymbals between the knees.

There I am, middle of Victoria Station, I've only been playing 10 minutes.

This lairy bloke comes up to me, he says, 'Do you do requests?'

I say, 'Yeah.'

He says, 'I'd like you to play a song for my mother.'

I said, 'Of course, where is she?'

He said, 'Tasmania.'

So I nutted him.

This little bloke, Roscoe Crabbe, seen all this, comes up, offers me a week's work in Brighton.

Says he needs a bit of muscle.

I tell him, I say, 'This is all fat.'

'But I haven't eaten since last night and I need a wage.'

And what's my first job in the criminal underworld?

Walk into Charlie the Duck's place in Brighton and put the fear of God into him.

I mean, I can do that. I'm a geezer.

But I can't stop thinking about chips.

I'm staying in a pub.

I ain't even got enough shrapnel for a pint.

[ Sighs ] [ Laughter ] [ Audience groans ] [ Cheers and applause ] There might be a discarded bag of chips in here.

No, come on, Francis, you can't go looking through the bins.

Concentrate.

I must stop thinking about chips.

I need to think of something boring, like...like... Canada.

-[ Grunting ] -That's as far as I'm going with this, mate.

The fare is 5 and 6.

-Oh, f...foot and mouth! Don't be a bad egg about it -I drive a taxi, mate. I ain't Heracles.

-It's a trunk.

No one's asking you to hold up the sky for all eternity.

-Atlas held up the sky.

Heracles took over for five minutes so Atlas could go and get the golden apples from the Hesperides' garden.

-Taxi drivers, eh?

Such bloody know-it-alls. -Alright, mate?

-What's this pub like?

-Ground-breaking. It does food.

-A pub? That does food?

Well, buzz-wam, whoever thought of that, wrap his nuts in bacon and send him to the nurse.

What are the rooms like?

-They're world class. -Not that I care.

I'm boarding-school trained.

I'm happy if I've got a bed, a chair, and no one...on my face.

Could you do me a favour and keep a...eye on the trunk whilst I see if they have any vacancies?

-How much? -Half a crown?

-Haddock and chips and mushy peas! Yeah!

Yeah, alright.

-Don't even think about it.

Oi! Oi! Come here!

Oi! Oi! Come here! Oi!

Get away from that trunk, you!

Come here!

[ Glass shatters ] -[ Screaming ] -Yaaaahhh!

[ Bell ringing ] [ Glass shattering ] -I need what they call in the Guards a batman.

What's a decent drink for a geezer like you for a day's graft?

-Well, my current guvnor... Well, that is my previous guvnor, used to pay me 20 pounds a week at the end of the week, which is no use to me.

-Why not?

-Because I have to eat every day.

-Well, I shall pay you £5 per day.

But for today, that remuneration would incorporate the trunk guarding retrospectively.

-Bloody toffs, eh?

Why do we let them get away with it?

Alright, mate, you're on.

-Now, do you know where the main post office is in Brighton?

-I have absolutely no idea.

Oh, yeah, that's next door to my Nan's.

My uncle Terry lost a leg in there once.

-There should be some post for me.

You'll need this letter of authorisation.

-'To whom it may concern, the bearer is an authorised agent of Stanley Stubbers.'

-Shhh. Hush! Szz!

-Who's Stanley Stubbers? -Me.

But don't call me Stanley Stubbers.

I'm gonna have to make up a new name for the pub.

-What's wrong with The Cricketers Arms?

-You're not exactly a Swiss watch, are you?

A false name for me, because I am lying low.

What do I call you? I don't do first names.

First names are for girls and Italians.

-Henshall. -Henshall. I like it.

A bit rural, it's got bits of livestock.

under its fingernails.

Get my trunk indoors, Henshall. Collect my letters, Henshall.

I'll be in my room.

-[ Sighs in frustration ] What the... [ Grunts ] [ Blows ] Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup-ah!

Hup-ah! Hup... Hup...[spits] Hup... Hup...hup... Hup, hup, hup, hup, hup.

Hup... Ohh!

I think I'm gonna need a hand with this.

Will you two come and help me with this trunk?

That's it.You and you, fella, up you come.

Come on. There we go.

You come and stand 'round this side, mate.

You come and stand just here. What's your name, sir?

-Jez. -Jez.

I am Francis. Nice to meet you.

And your name, sir? -Coryn.

-Coryn, I'm Francis.

Coryn, you've not dressed for the '60s.

You're alright.

Now, listen, before we go any further, have either of you two got your Equity cards?

Don't worry, nor have I.

Now, as I'm the only person who's elected to wear a tie, I will take a management position on this.

Okay?

So I want you to turn this way to face the pub.

Coryn, you turn this way to face this door.

We're gonna do this kinetically, alright, guys?

We want no back injuries up here tonight.

We are bending from the knees, okay?

So, when I say so, we will lower... No, when I say so!

A touch premature there.

Oh, is he?

[ Laughter ] Stop, no! I didn't... Come on! I didn't mean... How was I meant to know?

It happens to the best of us, doesn't it, Coryn?

Alright, now... So, when I say so, we will lower ourselves down, take hold of the straps with both hands and on three, we will pick up the trunk, okay?

So, down we go.

Lower ourselves down.

Take hold of the straps with both hands.

Ready? And on three... You ready? One, two, three, go!

Go on! Come on, Coryn, put your back into it!

Come on! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

I told you it was heavy, didn't I?

I'll tell you what, Coryn, you might be better if you face this way. What do you reckon?

Alright. So you face this way, and down we go.

One, two, three and up.

And into the pub. Thank you so much.

I really appreciate it. Thank you.

You're a good man.

Post office!

-Francis! Where are you going?

-I'm just walking 'round and 'round in circles, guv, to ward off the hunger pangs.

-I will cook you the lunch of a lifetime.

-Lunch? I haven't had breakfast yet.

-Have you got my trunk out of the car yet?

-I've just done the trunk. Ah... Concentrate, Francis.

You're right, Roscoe, I'll get your trunk out the motor now.

-I'll get one of the bar staff to give you a hand.

What?! You two again?

Come on, out of the pub.

Out of my pub. Stay there.

[ Laughter ] Now, I've told you two before, this is not that kind of pub!

You're barred. Go on, out!

[ Cheers and applause ] -You know, guv, you're a funny kind of bloke.

You're only away for a week, yet you've got enough packing for a year.

You know, like a woman.

-You think women pack more than they need, do you?

-Oh, yeah.

And we men let them get away with it.

-Why do we men let them get away with it?

-Well, 'cause if you said anything, you'd never get your leg over, would you?

-Are you seriously suggesting that we men are, day to day, moment to moment, making thousands of small tactical decisions, the cumulative effect of which is to reduce the time between leg-overs?

-That's a fair description of my life.

-Right. I need you to go to the post office and... -Alright, guv, stop going on about it.

You only need to tell me once.

-I haven't asked you to go to the post office at all yet.

Oh... -Lloyd tells me it's just around the corner.

-That's handy.

-Collect any letters for me or my sister, Rachel Crabbe.

This is a letter of authorisation.

-I've already got one of those. I don't need two, do I?

-How come you already have a letter of authorisation?

-This is trickier than I thought.

You're right. I am gonna need that.

-And any letters you collect are private.

Is that clear?

-Don't you worry, guv, I won't even read them myself.

-I'll be in my room.

-Cor!

I've got two jobs.

How did that happen?

You got to concentrate, ain't you, with two jobs?

I mean, I can do it,as long as I don't get confused.

But I do get confused easily.

I don't get confused that easily.

Yes, I do.

I'm my own worst enemy. Stop being negative.

I'm not being negative. I'm being realistic.

I'll screw it up. I always do.

Who screws it up? You.

You're the role model for village idiots everywhere.

Me? You're nothing without me.

You're the cock up.

Don't you call me a cock up, you cock up.

[ Gasps ] You slapped me? Yes, I did.

And I'm glad I did because -- Oh, ho! That hurt.

Good. 'Cause you started it.

Aah! Aah!

[ Choking ] Come here, you! Get your hands off me, you!

No, no, no!

You wouldn't dare!

Wouldn't I?

[ Cheers and applause ] -What is my life?

Am I to eat, drink, sleep, get a good job, marry, honeymoon, have kids, watch them grow up and have kids of their own, divorce, meet someone else, grow old and die happy in my sleep like every other inhabitant of Brighton and Hove?

What kind of a life is that?

No. I am an artist.

Character is action.

I cannot allow this late suitor to -- That's a pun, that's quite good, maybe I could be a writer.

I cannot allow this twice-late suitor, who is both dead and late, to come along and end my beautiful dream, like a dead, discarded Russian astronaut dog landing on my head.

My rival's lackey.

This will be the beginning of the end.

Where is the dog, your guvnor? He will die today.

-Do yourself a favour, mate, walk away.

-You have obviously never been in love.

-Janice Carter, one.

Pamela Costello, two. Her gran, three.

-Bring the cur out here, now!

-You want to speak to my guvnor?

-Speak a little, yes, and then slaughter a lot.

-Alright, wait here, I'll go and get him.

-Have you been to the post office yet?

-I was just on my way. -Who's he?

-He wants to speak to my guvnor. -But I'm your guvnor.

-Yes. You are, aren't you?

-He wants to speak to me, does he?

-My ire -- my ire is like a forest fire.

Fierce, inexorable, enough to ruin several picnics.

-This gentleman is called Alan. -Oh, bad luck.

-I'll be at the post office.

-Are you an actor? -Does it show?

-It's the way you stand, at an angle, as if there's an audience over there.

-My rival in love, Roscoe Crabbe, arrived from London today and is staying here.

-Bizarre. Roscoe Crabbe is the name of the chap I killed accidentally last Saturday evening, stabbing him three times in the chest with a knife I'd bought earlier.

-He has today claimed my bride, my love, my life.

-No. Roscoe Crabbe is dead.

I know he's dead because I, uh... ...because a friend of mine knows someone whose dad works with a chap who said he murdered him.

-I met him not an hour ago.

He lives, his every breath tortures me.

-I suppose when I fled the club, he wasn't actually yet dead.

Oh, geez! If Roscoe did survive and is in Brighton, he's here for one reason only, to kill me.

Oh, my God. No.

No, he's not staying here. I know him.

I would have seen him.

-Oh. I was led to believe... -No. -No matter.

My card.

If you see him, tell him his life will only be spared if he abandons his wedding plans.

-I thought you said your name was Alan.

This card says Orlando Dangle.

-Equity already had an Orlando Dangle.

-So you chose Alan?

-It's 1963.

There's a bloody revolution in the theatre.

And angry young men are writing plays about Alans.

What's your name, sir? -My name? Buggerello!

Going to have to be creative now.

It's not my best game.

Dustbin... Dustin.

Dustin Pubsign.

-Pubsign? -Pubsign.

It's an old Anglo-Saxon guild name.

The Bakers, they baked the bread, the Smiths were the blacksmiths, and the Pubsigns... we made the pub signs.

-It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pubsign.

[ Cheers and applause ] -Roscoe's in Brighton!

But I'd be better off lying low in London than lying low in Brighton.

Poor dear Rachel, well, she must be terrified.

Oh, God, can this be happening? What to do?

Well, I must go back to London, find Rachel.

No, no, damn it, I can't.

I have to wait here for Rachel's letter.

Oh, God, it's a rozzer. It's a rozzer.

Um, um, lovely day for it.

-Lovely day for what, sir?

-Fighting crime.

-Right. So authorisations letter.

That can go in this pocket.

Rachel Crabbe.

I'll put that in this pocket for now. I'm good at this.

I could work at the post office.

That'd be three jobs. Another authorisation letter.

That goes in the authorisations pocket.

What's this? Stanley Stubbers.

Mm.

Mmm.

I don't suppose I need both these authorisation letters, do I?

So, Stanley Stubbers, that goes in this pocket.

Roscoe's sister, Rachel Crabbe... But then what are these?

I'm getting confused now. Right.

If there's two letters, they should definitely have their own pocket, shouldn't they?

What's this? Stanley Stubbers.

That's the one that tasted nice, isn't it? Is it?

Yes.

I tell you, it ain't bad for paper.

It's a bit dry.

Could do with a bit more ink. Mmm.

Oh, my... I didn't know paper could taste this good.

I might go back to communion.

-Henshall, did you get the letters?

-Yes, all here, guv. -How many?

Well, just the one, I guess. -Let's have a look.

We've got... No, there's nothing here for you, guv.

-What are those letters then?

-These are...decoy letters.

-Decoy letters?

-The post office, they release them like homing pigeons.

See how many return, how many get shot down and run over.

-The truth, Henshall.

Or you'll never bugger the dolphin again.

-These are -- They're... They're, uh, Paddy's letters. -Paddy?

-He's a friend of mine who waspicking up letters for his boss, but he hadn't had any lunch yet.

So I said I'd pick them up for him so he could have haddock and chips and mushy peas.

-Well, this letter is for my intended, Rachel Crabbe.

-Hey, what you doing?

You can't just open other people's letters.

-Why not?

-Because it's a really deep basic human thing that doesn't need explaining.

-At boarding school, we opened each other's letters all the time.

-Yeah, you also gang-raped 11-year-old boys, which is not normal either.

-No? -No.

-Oh!

It felt pretty good at the time.

This letter is from Jackie, Rachel's best friend.

'Dear Rachel, the police know you fled to Brighton dressed as a man, so the evening news carried an artist's impression of what you might look like in men's clothes.

You ended up looking a bit like Ringo Starr, who's already been arrested twice.'

Rachel, the woman I love, is in Brighton dressed as the percussionist of a popular beat combo.

'They also carried a boxing photo of Stanley.'

That's me.

'It's so awful that you have to go to Australia.

Love, Jackie. Three kisses.'

Three kisses?

That's a bit girls-only-Greek-island.

Henshall, have you met Paddy's boss?

-Um, no. -I want you to find Paddy.

I want you to tell him to tell his employer I'm staying here.

-Alright. I'll look for Paddy after lunch.

-No, now. This is a matter of life or death.

-Has anybody got a sandwich?

Seriously.

Anyone?

Oh, come on!

There must be 1,000 people in here.

No one's got a York ham and mustard?

A bacon, lettuce, and tomato? Cheese? Anything -- [ Laughter ] Of all the nights!

[ Laughter ] What kind of sandwich is it?

-Hummus. -Hummus?! [ Laughter ] No wonder you haven't eaten it!

[ Laughter ] I don't really know what to do now.

I mean... I guess I am hungry.

And I did ask for it, so... So you might as well hand it over!

-I got a minute, if you wanta hand with that trunk of yours.

-Okay, although... Remarkably, this gentleman has a sandwich.

We...we should go and get the trunk from the car.

I will decline your offer, sir.

But thank you very much.

You'll learn in not too far distant future, you have somewhat messed with the play. It's just... [ Laughter ] -Francis!

Have you got the letters?

-Ah, yeah. Here you go, guv. None of yours have been eaten.

I'm gonna get your trunk out the motor now.

-Francis.

This letter has been opened.

-I'm gonna have to come up with a very convincing excuse here.

I had to open the letter because I realised there was a small, distressed frog trapped inside.

Yes. Come on.

-How did you know there was a small, distressed frog trapped inside a sealed envelope?

-Geez!

[ Laughing ] There was no frog.

No, I also had a letter addressed to me, which I hadn't opened yet, and I opened yours by mistake.

-Get my trunk to my room, then come back here.

We need to talk.

-Right you are, guvnor.

-Oh, it's from a friend of mine, Jackie.

I like Jackie, but she's a bit, you know...needy.

Ringo Starr? Which one's Ringo?

Is that the drummer?

The ugly one with the huge...? Oh, bloody hell.

'...Australia. Love, Jackie.

Three kisses.'

I mean, what is she after?

-Yeah.

Basically, it's a condition of the spine.

-Uh-huh. -Yeah.

It's called ankylosis sponducer.

It means if I pick up anything heavier than a knife and fork, I go blind.

-That's very convenient.

-It's a Viking condition.

You see, I'm one third Viking.

-And two thirds idiot.

-Are you stupid?

-No. I could've gone to university if I'd got the qualifications.

-What's your ironing like?

-World class, I've got the equivalent of a 2-1 in ironing from Durham.

-[ Sniffing ] I need a clean shirt.

Ironed. My shirts are in the trunk.

Here's the key.

Has Charlie the Duck been here with the money?

-No. -I better go chase him up.

-He didn't say his shirts needed ironing urgently, did he?

Maybe I could down the High Street and beg for some food. -Is your guvnor in?

I've got his bangers here. -Sausages?

-Bangers and mash.

-Sausage and mash in an envelope?

I've just seen the future.

I mean, no gravy obviously. That'd be stupid.

-It's cockney rhyming. Bangers and mash -- Cash.

-So it's not food then?

-It's 200 folding for your guvnor.

Don't let me down.

-When am I gonna eat?

-Henshall. Did you find your friend Paddy?

-I've arranged to meet him later on the pier.

-What's that?

-It's an envelope full of money for my guvnor.

-But I'm your guvnor.

-Yes, you are, aren't you? Go on, take it.

I don't care any more.

-I like Brighton.

Cash delivered, pubs with food, it's a better kind of England.

-I'm gonna go in and get on with your ironing.

-Initiative. I like it. -I thought we'd already agreed I'd iron your shirts. -No, but have a go.

I never understood how irons work.

I used to bunk off physics, spent every lesson in the radiation cupboard trying to make my penis glow.

Onward!

♪♪ ♪♪ -♪ Little fella with a model like a seal ♪ ♪ One leg is wooden and his mouth is full of steel ♪ ♪ But I seen him at the boxing and I had to reassess ♪ ♪ He's with this blonde bombshell ♪ ♪ She's spilling out her dress ♪ ♪ It makes you wonder how he got himself that missus ♪ ♪ Six-foot stunner and she's on him like a rash ♪ ♪ Every week when she smothers him with kisses ♪ ♪ He bungs her an envelope stuffed full of cash ♪ ♪ Dodgy politician with a smug little face ♪ ♪ Brings about a scandal that leaves him in disgrace ♪ ♪ Every day the papers run another slur ♪ ♪ Goes to see the Queen ♪ And now we have to call him sir ♪ ♪ Makes you wonder how he got himself a knighthood ♪ ♪ Half an hour earlier, he was lying in the trash ♪ ♪ A bloke who knows, a bloke says he was sighted ♪ ♪ Bunging her an envelope stuffed full of cash ♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ -Thank you! Thank you very much!

[ Cheers and applause ] -♪ Makes you wonder how the taxman gets a look-in ♪ [ Singing indistinctly ] ♪ Dodgy deals and books that need a-cooking ♪ ♪ And dirty brown envelopes stuffed full of cash ♪ ♪♪ -I can't marry that tiny, weird-looking, vicious, homosexual, short-arsed, runt of a criminal.

-Why not, what you got against him?

-I want to marry for love. -Trust me.

You don't want to marry for love.

When your mother... when she left me, I... -Don't upset yourself, Dad.

What you trying to say?

-I'm trying to say love passes through marriage quicker than... through a small dog.

-But I love Alan.

-Marry Roscoe, you get a detached house in Debden.

In the forest. A mile-long drive.

-From where? -[ Sighs ] From the nearest public thoroughfare.

A swimming pool, a tennis court, and a horse.

And he won't ever touch you.

You just got to go to the boxing on his arm, and show the world he isn't a nine bob note.

And at 2 grand a year, he's paying you more than Bobby Moore is getting.

-I didn't know he was living with Bobby Moore.

-They've tried, but they can't make bricks thicker.

[ Doorbell rings ] Five years ago, you agreed to this agreement.

-Five years ago, I was young and stupid.

-So what's changed?

-I'm a lot older now.

-Roscoe's back.

-My future son-in-law is outside?

Let him in. Make him a cup of tea.

Get the bunting out. Let's hope for your sake that he's not come back here to rearrange my face.

-[ Crying ] -Hello, Roscoe. Come in, son.

Did you get your bangers?

-I did not get my bangers, no.

And I didn't get no banker's draught neither.

That's why I'm here.

-I give the bangers to that geezer of yours -- the 200.

-Alright. And the 6,000?

-Let's have lunch at The Cricketers.

I'll have it all signed off by then.

-[ Wailing ] -What's she singing about?

-This is her grieving for your death from three days ago.

She's always a bit behind.

-I'd like a word with her, if that's alright.

Alone. -Alright, Roscoe.

Take your time.

-Pauline... -Piss off! I hate you.

You've ruined my life.

-I know what would make you feel better.

-You bleeding well touch me, and I'll scream.

-I have a secret.

-I don't want to know anything about your life.

I wish you was dead.

-I can't bear to see her suffer any longer.

I am dead!

-Are you?

No.

Really? [ Gasps ] What's it like?

-Roscoe, my brother, is dead.

-You're Roscoe's brother? -Sister.

-I don't understand.

-I'm Rachel, Roscoe's twin sister.

-Oh, yeah!

They said he was one of two identical twins.

-It is not possible for identical twins to be different genders. -Why not?

-Because one would be male and the other female.

-I don't understand.

-All you need to know is that I am a woman.

-So, hang on.

That means I can't marry you, doesn't it?

-More importantly. it means you can marry Alan.

-Can I? -In the near future.

-I'd better go tell him.

-No! My identity must remain a secret.

I need your help.

-I'll do anything to marry Alan.

I love him.

-I too am in love.

-Really? With Alan?

-No. His name's Stanley.

-It's weird, isn't it? Love.

I want to talk about him all the time.

-Yes, that's very true.

I try to turn every conversation around to Stanley.

-So do I. To Alan.

Stanley's a very manly name.

Alan's kind of heroic.

Alan.

-Stanley killed my own brother, and yet I love him. -Love.

It's like being mad, isn't it?

-Insane. Look at me.

Dressed in my dead brother's clothes.

-Maybe this is your way of grieving for him.

-Yes.

I hadn't thought of that.

We girls have to help each other.

-Sorry! Should have knocked.

Well, well, I never. I'll come back in half an hour.

Put a record on.

-Charlie, you can go ahead with plans for our wedding.

-Right.

-Oh, but I need time... to choose a dress.

-And the banker's draught is... -Roscoe, trust me, the money's no problem.

I'd better go and tell Laurence Olivier it's definitely off.

Gah!

Harry Dangle won't like this.

[ Both laugh ] -Oh, bloody heck.

What if Dad tells Alan?

Alan might think we've had it off.

-What would Alan do if he were to think that?

-He'd go into one.

He's known as a dangerous actor.

-I can look after myself.

-I know, but still, I'd better get to him before Dad does.

-You swore to keep my secret.

-How long do I have to go along with this lie?

-Me and Stanley are gonna have to live in Australia.

-Oh, no! Australia?

Oh, no. Oh, my God.

Australia?

How awful.

-It'll be a terrible, outdoorsy life, sustained by lager, barbecues, and opera.

-I sympathise with you.

But my Alan, he's suffering right now.

-Trust me.

My plan will deliver to you the husband of your choice.

-Alan? -Yes, Alan.

And the pain you feel now will be forgotten in a couple of weeks' time.

The night always seems darkest just before dawn.

-What?

-That bit of the night, you know, just before dawn always seems really dark. Although it isn't.

It's just the contrast with the light of morning.

-I don't understand.

♪♪ ♪♪ -♪ Now my old man had an appetite ♪ ♪ He could really pack it in ♪ 'Cause no one bothered with telling him ♪ ♪ That gluttony was a sin ♪ He could polish off a whole roast pig ♪ ♪ From the trotters to the snout ♪ ♪ And that was just for starters ♪ ♪ 'Cause then you'd hear him shout ♪ ♪ Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three dinners ♪ ♪ Gimme three dinners or four ♪ Gimme five, gimme six, gimme seven dinners ♪ ♪ And I'll still have room for more ♪ ♪ Gimme eight, gimme nine, gimme ten ♪ ♪ And if my belly starts to hurt ♪ ♪ Then I'll say when and stop at ten ♪ ♪ And then move on to dessert ♪ Now my old man was a lovely soul ♪ ♪ He weren't to everyone's taste ♪ ♪ He found it hard to find a girl ♪ ♪ With his 98-inch waist ♪ But then one day he met his match ♪ ♪ Imelda from up west ♪ She claimed she'd out-eat any man ♪ ♪ So they put it to the test ♪ They said ♪ Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three dinners ♪ ♪ Gimme three dinners or four ♪ Gimme five, gimme six, gimme seven dinners ♪ ♪ And I'll still have room for more ♪ ♪ Gimme eight, gimme nine, gimme ten ♪ ♪ And if I have to stop, I will ♪ ♪ The one who eats the least can start ♪ ♪ By picking up the bill ♪♪ ♪♪ Ladies and gentlemen!

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪ Now if your old man's a gannet ♪ ♪ You'll know it ain't much fun ♪ ♪ When your dad excels ♪ And he tips the scales to the tune of half a ton ♪ -Roscoe has insisted on having lunch with Charlie up here in private, instead of downstairs in the bar.

Don't ask me why he wants to eat in private, I'm not paid to think.

Mr. Stubbers is having a lie-down, which I guess you have to do a lot of when you're lying low.

And I've been nil by mouth for 16 hours.

I'm only alive because me gall bladder's worked out a way of eating me kidneys.

But the good news is, it's lunch time.

There's gonna be food everywhere.

All I've got to do is organise a stash, you know, a few leftovers, the odd whole course goes missing.

Hide it under here maybe.

Oh, would you look at that?

A mouse trap... ...with a lump of Cheshire cheese.

My favourite.

Oh, look at it. All white and crumbly.

This bit's only slightly nibbled.

Ahh. Ahh.

-Henshall!

[ Trap snaps ] -Ow, ow, ow!

-How come a mouse trap went off on your tongue?

-It's a personal thing, guv.

-Understand. I, too, enjoy pain.

Did you find your friend Paddy?

-No. I've arranged to meet him after lunch.

-Well, I've no time to wait on lunch.

I'm going down to the pier to look for him myself.

-Actually this suits me.

Get this guvnor out the way whilst I serve the other one.

-By the way, what does Paddy look like?

-He's a big fella. He smells of horses.

-Smells of horses or smells like a horse?

The former is respectable and an indication of family money, the latter, well, that's just poor hygiene.

-At the end of the day, it's the same thing, ain't it?

-Good point. -Now take your time, guv.

There's two piers, I don'tremember which pier he said now.

Do you want me to order you some food for later?

-Order what you like, but when I do dine, I need to eat in private, waited on by you and you alone.

Oh, look, what's this Bradman room like?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, perfect.

I'll eat in there.

Oh, and I don't want to take all this cash with me.

Can I trust you with it, Henshall?

-Is it edible? -I doubt it.

-It's safe with me then, guv. -Right.

I'll slip out the back.

-My name's Gareth. I'm the head waiter.

This is Alfie.

-I'm 86.

-No, you're not. You're 87!

-I thought I was 86.

-No! That was last year!

Be patient with Alfie please.

He's a bit deaf, so don't turn your back.

He's gonna lip read.

-I ain't never going back there.

It was a bloody massacre.

-He was at Gallipoli.

He has balance problems.

He suffers from the tremors.

And he's got one of them newfangled pacemakers for his heart.

-Is that all I need to know?

-One other thing. -What's that?

-It's his first day.

I've been told to set places for Mr. Clench and your guvnor.

-In there, the Compton room.

My other guvnor will eat alone in the Bradman room later.

And they've both insisted that I personally wait on their tables.

-You've got two employers?

-Oh, yeah. Well, I'm that good.

I was trained by the legendaryFrench waiter, Jean Jacques Jim.

-In France? -Of course.

-Which town?

-Ashby-de-la-Zouch.

-That's near Loughborough.

-But it is now.

-Do these guvnors of yours know that you've got two jobs?

-No, that is our secret for today.

-What's in it for me and Alfie?

-It's less work for you and you still get paid.

-What about our tips?

-You'll get 10 bob from me end of the afternoon.

-Deal.

Alfie, set one place in the Bradman room.

I'll get some wine lists.

[ Plates clattering ] [ Clattering continues ] -How many courses do you think Roscoe and Charlie will want?

-Seven. -Seven? à la carte?

-No, they're going to eat indoors.

I'll order for them. -The menu is in French.

How many languages do you speak?

-I can speak two languages actually.

English and French.

The menu, por favor.

-Por favor is Spanish.

-Oh, bloody hell. I can speak three languages.

-Alfie! -He's in the Bradman.

-What's he doing in there?

-Apparently the gentleman from room 10 has requested to eat in there later in private.

-Oh. He'll need a menu then.

Alfie. Jesus!

Put this menu and wine list on the table!

Table!

Are you ready to order? -Yes.

Can we have a lot of hot food, and, you know, just keep it coming? -My pleasure.

-Right. So, Gareth, Alfie, you bring the food here to this table, and I will serve it.

-Alright. Alfie, bring the soup to here.

Do, uh, do you get two salaries then?

-Why else would I do it, mate? -What about holidays?

-I get two weeks each year from each employer.

That's five weeks in all.

-You're not stupid, are you? -Not even a little bit.

-You know what bankers are like.

They'll only lend you an umbrella if the sun's shining.

-You haven't got the money, have you, Charlie?

-Of course I got the money, but... -But what? You ain't printed it off yet?

-I'm out of that game. I sold the ink.

Roscoe, this is my problem.

I'll have its arse slapped by 3:00.

And I'm paying for lunch, I insist.

-Francis, Charlie said he gave you some cash earlier.

In an envelope. -Oh, no.

I can see what's gonna happen.

Roscoe's gonna take Mr. Stubbers' money.

That's a disaster. No, wait, it is Roscoe's money.

Yes. Here you go, guv.

I've set two places in here, the Dennis Compton Room.

-I can't have nothing to do with Dennis Compton.

He was a Gooner.

-Dennis Compton played cricket for Arsenal.

-Football. In the winter.

I'm Spurs, ain't I?

I can't eat in there. Someone might see me.

-Let's eat in that room, the Bradman.

-Uhhhhh, no! -Why not?

-The gentleman from room 10 has already booked this room.

-Ow. -He's not here, is he?

When room 10 arrives, he can have the Compton.

You got anything against the Aussies, Charlie?

-No. As it happens, I quite like opera.

-Oh!

-And, obviously they're not Arsenal, so they're not scum.

Oh... Oh, come on, Alfie, you can do it.

-This soup must be made of lead.

It's bloody heavy.

-Here. Let me help you with that.

-Whoa!

-Henshall!

-Guv?! You're back! That was quick.

-Yes, well, I went 'round to the Palace Pier.

Couldn't find anyone who smelt like a horse.

And the other pier was on fire, so I thought I'd best give it a miss.

Truth is, Brighton is swarming with rozzers.

I want to eat now. -Now?

-Yes, now. What have you got then?

-Your soup. -But I wasn't even here yet.

-That's how good I am. Change of plan, guv.

You'll be eating in that room, the Compton Room.

-Why's that?

-There's an Australian honeymoon couple in here.

-Australian honeymooners?

Ooh, Mills and Boon.

Bring my soup in, I'm starving. I could eat my own pants.

-Oh, no, what am I gonna do?

-Francis. -Aah!

-There's only one place setting in here.

What you got there? -Your soup.

-Give it here then. What's the matter with you?

-I haven't eaten for 16 hours.

Gareth! I've got two rooms, both guvnors.

I need more of everything. Now, quick!

-Here's your cold meats.

-Smashing. Over here, Alfie.

-Huh!

-Oh, would you look at that?! Ham, beef, what do they call this sliced sausage here?

-Pepperonly.

-Oh, this is beautiful. -Yeah, sliced donkey.

-I like a bit of donkey.

You sound out of breath, Alfie.

-Yeah. These -- Them stairs... they take it out of you.

I'll turn me pacemaker up a couple of notches.

-Henshall, where's my... A plated meal? -Sliced meats.

-What happened to the soup you had?

-It was cold. I sent it back.

-Vichyssoise? -No. Back downstairs.

-You're a bit of an enigma, aren't you, Henshall?

Do you know what you remind me of?

-What's that? -High Wycombe.

Bring me a wine list, would you?

By which I mean I'd like to drown in a bath of grands crus.

What if I can't find Rachel?

I may never make love to her from behind ever again.

-Rule number one for a waiter -- don't eat the food.

Soup for your other guvnor. -Smashing.

And he wants a wine list.

-No empties? Have you cleared that room?

-Alright, alright.

-Next up is your Quenelles de volaille.

-Oh, yeah. That's my favourite.

My nan used to cook 'kweneldevolay' every bonfire night.

-Chicken balls. -Chicken balls. Really?

I didn't know chickens had... I never understood soup.

You don't need a knife and fork to eat it, so it's not food.

It must be a drink.

In which case, I'd rather have a pint.

-Francis... -Yes, guv?

-Can you clear our table, please, of the soup?

And we'd like to order some wine.

-Henshall...Oh.

Ah. Oh.

Mmm. Oop. Ahh!

Oh. Dompy-dompy-doo.

Ooh. Winerama.

-Yes, there's some soup left in here!

Will someone look after this soup for me?

You. What's your name, my love?

-Christine Patterson.

[ Laughter ] -Christine Patterson?

Well, thanks for giving us all the info.

[ Laughter ] Do you want to give out your national insurance number, while we wait...? Christine Patterson, you arethe perfect person for this job.

Will you hold on to this soup for me?

Take this here. Hold on to it. Keep it safe. Keep it tight.

Don't let any of these bastards touch it, alright?! What you got there, Alfie?

-Chicken balls.

-Thank God they're not donkeys'. -Eh?

-I said, 'Thank God they're not donkeys'.' -Oh, I wouldn't know, mate.

They don't trust me with cheese.

-How many have we got here? -12.

-So 12 balls, 3 plates.

That's 4 each and none for me.

Or three each and three for me.

Oh, my God.

-Now he's eating the...chicken balls!

-Or two each and six for me.

-You can't do that, son! They're not for you!

-What are they like?

-They are beautiful.

Or one each and nine for me!

Alright, Alfie.

I'm gonna take these in to Roscoe and Charlie.

You watch that door.

Do not let him open it.

Oh, for God's... I love meatballs.

Meaty, succulent. -Ballsy!

-Yeah!

-Sorry!

-What are you doing?

-I'm bringing you your meatballs, guv.

-One at a time? You are a strange planet.

-Lloyd, he's a stickler for presentation.

-This is the wonkiest meal I've ever had.

I'd like a bottle of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

-Right you are, guv.

-Here's your veg. -Smashing.

And he wants a bottle of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

-Certainly. -Francis!

-Your chicken balls, sir. -About time.

Are you the wine waiter?

-I can be.

-We'd like a bottle of the '58 Claret please.

-So that's one bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape and a bottle of the Claret.

-Ahh.

-No, just one bottle of Claret, alright?

-Ah, yes, my mistake. -Ah, yes.

His mistake!

Gareth, a quick word.

-Oh!

-You're lucky. I nearly had to kill you then.

-Oh!

Sorry. Not easy, is it, having two bosses?

-Thank you.

Cor! Look at this veg!

Oh, we want some of this for later.

Christine Patterson... ...will you hand over the soup?

Now, listen... I could really use a hand up here.

Will you come with me? Go on.

I promise it'll be okay.

Honestly.

You don't need that. Leave that.

That's it, up you come, Christine. Come on.

There we go.

[ Cheers and applause ] Okay. Just... Just there, Christine.

Okay, alright, what we're gonna do, we're gonna put these veg in with this soup.

Okay? So hold that.

Cor, I like your dress.

Is it made of soup-resistant material?

Alright. Okay.

There we go. Then we just... There we are.

Okay, sterling work, Christine.

Let's get you and the stash back down there.

It's Lloyd! Hide, Christine!

Get behind W.G. Grace, quick!

Up on the box! That's it, there.

-Now, this is my dish of the day.

Truite aux amandes. Truite?

-Fish. -Trout.

Aux?

-Trout. ♪ Whoa-oh -Trout in. Amandes?

-I know this one. Germany.

Trout in Germany. Trout in Germ... Germany is Allemagne.

Amandes is almonds.

Ah, yes, trout in almonds.

It's an easy language, isn't it, Spanish?

-Where's Gareth? -Oh, in there.

Don't you worry, I'll tell him.

Cor, look at this fish.

We want some of this, Christine.

Come on. Down you come.

That's it.

In your own time, Christine. Geez!

I dunno if you've noticed, I'm under a lot of pressure at work.

Now, okay, Christine, I need you to hold that nice and still, okay?

Just there. Alright now... How am I gonna do this?

Alright.

Nice and still, Christine.

There we are.

Alright.

That's it, Christine. There we go.

Alright. Then we just... There we are.

There we go.

Fish heads in almonds.

They'll think it's posh food, won't they?

Will they?

Won't they?

It's best you don't get involved, Christine, alright?

Okay.

Okay, Christine... I'm gonna serve these to Roscoe and Charlie.

You watch that door. Do not let him open it.

[ Laughter, cheers and applause ] Cor! They like you, Christine.

Christine, it's Alfie! Quick, hide, hide!

No, no, get back there, behind W.G. Grace.

That's it.

Put your head through to the hole.

-Got your wine here, son.

-Thanks, Alfie. Will you open that for me?

I'm a little bit busy.

-Sure. I'll get a corkscrew.

-Vegetables and wine, sir.

-Get a corkscrew.

I've got the corkscrew.

-Vegetables! -Ah!

-[ Grunts ] -[ Gasps ] Christine!

I leave you on your own for two minutes, what happens?

You think he hit his head with the corkscrew?

Well, why didn't you help him?

-Henshall, where's my... Good God!

Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with the lead pipe.

And there's my wine.

That's grand cru, can't spill that.

What a waste. Is this one dead?

-I don't know.He's got one of them pacemakers.

I could turn it up a couple of notches, see if that helps.

Oh, my God! Alfie!

Alfie, are you okay?

Alf! Alf! Oh, my God, Alf... -Francis!

-Alfie, try and calm yourself down a bit.

Alf-- Alfie!

Oh, come on now. Alf! Are you -- Alfie!

-Are you okay?

Stay right there, okay? Just stay right there.

-What's happened to Alfie?

-I don't know, his pacemaker's packed up, I think.

-Let me have a go.

Should be set on three. How come he had it on nine?

-For the stairs. -There you go.

-Morning! -Morning, Alf.

-Lovely day for it.

Don't let the bastards grind you down.

-That's Carré d'agneau. Crown of Lamb.

-Cor, look at this!

Lamb chops -- my favourite!

Oh, we want some of this, Christine.

Come on! Down you come.

Are you alright? Don't worry, Christine.

Very soon, this'll all be over.

Now, how am I gonna do this?

[ Grunts ] Get behind W.G. Grace!

-Francis -- -Here you are, sir.

Lamb à la trolley carved at the table.

-Henshall! -Here you are, sir.

Lamb à la trolley carved at the table.

-I thought you were right behind me?

-I thought you were behind me.

It's a funny old game, isn't it? Lamb carved at the table.

-Henshall!

Where's Henshall?

-Please don't hurt me.

-What you got there, Alfie? -Potatoes.

-Well, get ready, 'cause I'm coming for them!

Aah!

-Food fight!

-Good work, that man!

-Crêpes Suzette.

When you were training in Ashby-de-la-Zouch, did they teach you how to do a proper crêpe?

-Yeah.

Crêpe, liqueur, matches -- what could possibly go wrong?

Alright, now, Christine, now, come on, down you come, quick.

Now, listen, before you go, do you know how to make a Crêpes Suzette?

Do you set fire to it, then serve it, or serve it and set fire to it as it were?

-I don't know.

-You haven't got a clue, have you?

Alright, Christine. Great work today.

Let's get you and the stash back down there.

Oh, Christine, down on the floor.

Crawl under there.

That's it, go on.

Okay, wait right there.

[ Speaks indistinctly ] -No, no.

-[ Whispering indistinctly ] -No. No. Problem. Problem. Serious problem.

This wine cannot be grand cru.

Taste that.

What do you reckon? Is it Pape?

-No, I think it's quite good.

-Ah, Crêpes Suzette, my favourite.

Girl and I love to watch Grand Marnier burning.

There we go. Lovely.

Come on, man, you're gonna need more than that.

Lash it on. There we go. Give it some welly.

Ah, yes, whoop.

Whoops-a-diddly-di-does.

-Oh!

-Fire! Fire! Fire!

[ Yelling indistinctly ] Oh, my God, Christine, are you okay?

-Out of the way!

[ Laughter ] -Ladies and gentlemen, what I suggest we do is take a quick 15-minute interval.

You can go and have a drink.

We'll fill out some Health and Safety forms.

But I did it, didn't I?

I served lunch to both guvnors, and none of them's any the wiser!

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪ -♪ Well, I know that you want to wait, girl ♪ ♪ That it's only our seventh date, girl ♪ ♪ But my heart starts to pound, girl, ♪ ♪ When you take my hand ♪ And I know that you like to tease, girl ♪ ♪ 'Cause I think that I felt you squeeze, girl ♪ ♪ But I need to be sure so please, girl ♪ ♪ Tell me where I stand ♪ Come on, it's time to give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Come on, you keep me waiting all night ♪ ♪ Come on, it's time to give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Come on, you gotta keep me right ♪ ♪ Ooh, well, I know that you feel it, too, girl ♪ ♪ Don't pretend that you don't, you do, girl ♪ ♪ This rejection makes me blue, girl ♪ ♪ Help me understand ♪ Come on, it's time to give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Come on, you keep me waiting all night ♪ ♪ Come on, it's time to give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Come on, you gotta keep me right, ooh ♪ ♪ Give it to me, give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Give it to me, give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Give it to me, give it up, baby ♪ ♪ Yeah!

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪ ♪♪ -Destiny.

Destiny. Destiny.

What is destiny?

If you're a bus, your destiny is the bus station.

And if you talk to buses, like I do, they'll tell you their destiny is writ deep in their bussy souls.

It is inescapable.

It is the timetable.

Buses laugh at love.

Love is fluff, very fluffy fluff.

Destiny is steel. -Orlando.

What are you doing here?

-I said I would return and take my revenge.

Et voilà. -Where did you get that knife? -Woollies.

My honour...my honour has been fiddled with.

-Put it away, boy.

We, the educated classes, have our own weapons -- The law, contract, and my particular specialism -- sesquipedalia verbis. -Words?

-Not just words, words a foot and a half long.

-If sesquipedalia verbis fails, if Charlie refuses to allow me to marry Pauline, tell him he will have this to deal with.

-What?

-Have the impediments before Alan's marriage to Pauline been removed as I demanded?

-No. And it ain't my fault.

I thought Roscoe was dead. -Your precocious contract with Roscoe was initiated in order to facilitate a relationship of mutual expediency.

And as such is antithetical to the Judeo-Christian and common law conception of marriage.

The contract's legality is at best ephemeral and in resurrecting it, following Roscoe Crabbe's own miraculous resurrection is a classic exemplar of Breach of Promise.

Post hoc ergo propter hoc.

-What you trying to say?

-You're up...creek without a paddle.

-In my world, there's a code.

It ain't written down, there's no books, but it's a code, like the law.

I haven't got no choice but to abide by it.

-On reflection,I am not sure that I want my son to dive into the fetid pond that is your family.

-Yeah, yeah.

Pauline's gonna marry Roscoe and that's that.

And I'll give you some Latin for a change.

Que sera sera.

Bugger me, it's Errol Flynn.

-Is it true?

-Yeah, it is true, yeah. What?

-Is Pauline to marry Roscoe Crabbe?

-That's right.

Wait here, I'll get you a presents list.

-Do not torment me.

I am no longer responsible for my actions.

I'm dangerous. I'm unpredictable, like a wasp in a shop window.

-Where did you get that knife? -Woollies.

-What you gonna do with it, sunshine?

-You've never shown me any respect.

My first Chekhov, I got you a free ticket to see me give my Konstantin.

-The Rottingdean players?

-You never came. You went to play snooker.

-I live in Brighton.

I don't need to drive to Rottingdean to watch someone shoot a bloody seagull!

-Don't push me. I can do it.

-No, you can't.

'Cause this is real, it ain't a play.

-Alan?

-Don't come any nearer, Roscoe.

I will, I can.

-Where did you get that knife? -Woollies!

-It ain't the knife that's dangerous.

It's the owner.

Throw that away.

-No.

I came here to kill Charlie.

-You don't want to kill Charlie, you want to kill me.

But you can't because, in the split second it would take to raise your arm, this knife will be sorting out your tonsils.

Or have you had your tonsils removed?

-No. I've still got them.

-Roscoe! Please, don't kill Alan.

He don't mean no harm, he's only acting.

-Ehh!

-Where'd you get -- -Woolworths!

On the High Street.

Hardware and kitchens.

-I'll spare him for your sake, my darling.

But I expect you, in return, to do me a favour.

That is to respect our secret.

-I do. I will.

-Is that it then?

'Cause I've got a cup of tea going cold in there.

-Yeah, go indoors, Dad. -Charlie!

It's gone 3:00. -What?

You're not telling me you ain't got your money yet?

I don't believe it. I told Dolly to...Gah!

If you want anything done properly, you got to do it yourself.

Go indoors, Roscoe.

I'll sort it for you.

Alan, son. A word.

-Are you hurt, my love? -Have you been with him?

-Been where? -Bed.

-No, God! Alan.

Really, absolutely no, not ever, never, no.

-The lady doth protest too much methinks.

-I'm a virgin still. You know I am.

-Don't I just.

-I'm saving myself for you, Alan, for when we're married, when we can do it two or three times a week legally.

-No.

I think your shared secret is you've always loved him.

[ Gasps ] Sh-pow!

You've bewitched him, like you've bewitched me, with your little...teases.

You play a man like a penny whistle.

I loathe you.

-Don't talk like that, Alan. I'll die.

-Do you think I care if you die?

-I'm gonna do myself in then. -Go on then.

-How can you be so cruel?

-I've had a good teacher. -He's not worth it, love.

He'd stand there and watch you do it, and not raise a finger. Look at him.

You're not the great romantic lover, are you?

You're a bit of a twat.

Let me give you some advice.

Men, they'll do anything to get you into bed.

Lie, cheat, buy you a bed.

And the tragedy is once they've had you, they'll never want you quite as much ever again.

Don't take notes, girls, there's a handout at the end.

-I can't believe you'd have let me kill myself.

You're heartless.

I'm gonna die anyway, 'cause I can't live with this pain.

And when I'm dead, I want you to know it'll be you what killed me.

[ Crying ] -Frailty, thy name is woman.

Women are born actors.

Whenever they want something, enter from stage left the waterworks.

-You want to watch your tongue, young man, slagging us women off.

It's 1963, there's a revolution coming.

I predict in 20 years' time, there'll be a woman in 10 Downing Street.

Yeah.

And she won't be doing the washing up.

Then you'll see exactly what women can do.

You'll see a more just and fair society.

The feminine voice of compassion for the poor will be the guiding principle of government and there'll be an end to foreign wars.

♪♪ ♪♪ -So I've eaten.

And after a lovely big meal, there's two things I can't resist doing.

One is having a little smoke.

[ Farts ] And that's the other.

It's alright, this two jobs lark, 'cause you can do what you like all day.

And it don't matter if you get sacked.

You've still got your other job.

And 'cause you got sacked, you can sign on straightaway.

Why doesn't everybody live like this?

Now, some of you out there, who understand your Commedia dell'arte, your hummus eaters... [ Laughter ] ...may have asked the question, 'If the Harlequin --' that's me -- 'has eaten, what will be his motivation in the second act?'

Your job is to try and work out what that might be.

-Pauline's written one letter to Alan today and one letter for Roscoe.

-Are we going then? Majorca?

-Oh, it's him. I like him.

-Have you ever been abroad?

-No. -It'll be great.

Sun, sea, sand. -Have you missed me?

-I have. A great deal.

Life became unbearable without you.

-I've got a letter here for your gaffer.

Can I trust you with it?

-'Confidential' is my middle name.

-What are your other names?

-Francis Henshall.

-So your full name is Francis Confidential Henshall?

-At your service, gorgeous.

-Calling a woman 'gorgeous' is patronising and chauvinist, obviously.

But since I fancy him rotten, and I haven't had a proper sorting out in a while, I'll forgive him.

You've got honest eyes. -Thank you, baby.

-No trouble...Big Boy.

-A friend of mine likes you.

-What's his name?

-Paddy.

-What's he look like?

-Oh, he could be a movie star.

-Godzilla?

-Nah. He's a good-looking lad.

He's big-boned.

-And how did he get big bones? -The usual.

Nature-Nurture.

-Partly genetic, partly pies?

-He likes his food, yeah.

-Does he prefer eating or making love?

-It's a tough one that, isn't it? I don't know.

I mean... Would you like to meet him?

-I wouldn't want to interrupt him if he's eating.

-Wait here, I'll go and get him.

Don't put your glasses on.

-I've done a lot worse.

We've all done a lot worse, haven't we, girls?

We've all woken up the morning after the night before, taken one look at the sorry state of the bloke lying next to us, and we've all leapt out of bed, sat down, and written a letter to our MPs, demanding that tequila should be a controlled drug.

-[ Irish accent ] Hello, there.

I'm Patrick.

Me friends call me Paddy, and I'm in love with you, I am so. -Are you really?

-Oh, yes, I'm a hopeless case.

I'm like a cork, tossed on an ocean of desire.

-Is that difficult? -It's exhausting.

There's only so much tossing one man can endure.

I grew you a rose, so I did. So I did so.

And I watered it myself, and I did them Baby things according to them fancy instructions on the side of the packet there, so I did so.

-That's very sweet of you.

-Is there any chance of a kiss?

Ahh.

I'd better go.

I-I left me horse on a double yellow.

-He's like a big kid.

I've always liked that in a man -- immaturity.

-[ Normal voice ] What do you reckon... to Paddy?

Do you like him?

-He gave me a rose. -A rose?

Go on, my son.

He's a terrible romantic, is Paddy.

-Bit of a ladies' man, is he?

-No, no, he's a one-woman man.

The marrying kind.

-Oh, he's married, is he? -No. No, no, no!

The right woman hasn't come along yet, I mean, until now.

That's what he said.

That's what he told me.

What about you? In the long run?

Do you want to get married?

-Marriage is the legalised exploitation of women.

-Yeah, obviously.

-Why can't you, Francis, as Francis, just ask me out on a date?

-I've asked you to go to Majorca!

-I can't just go to Majorca with you.

We need to go on a date first.

-Alright.

What's a good first date from a woman's point of view?

-Candlelit dinner?

-A candlelit dinner? That was quick!

No wonder you're here with a bunch of women!

[ Laughter ] That's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life.

'What's a good date?'

'A candlelit dinner!'

[ Laughter ] 'Take me on a candlelit dinner, you bastard!

Buy me a ring!'

No, she needs to feel relaxed.

Secure, not under pressure.

I know! Dolly?

I was wondering... How do you fancy, you know, Saturday, Saturday afternoon, not evening, no pressure, would you like to go on a rabbit shoot?

-I think you should take me on a candlelit dinner.

Thank you.

You've got it all worked out, haven't you, Francis?

-I'm a man. We plan.

We don't just go into stuff with our eyes closed because it feels right, like you women do.

Nah. Everything needs planning.

Love is no different from... I don't know, building a petrol station.

You can't build the shop before you've sunk the petrol reservoirs.

-Surely you can build the shop before you sink the reservoirs if you don't build the shop directly on top of the reservoirs?

-Look, you're not gonna win this argument, okay, 'cause I've actually built a petrol station, alright, in Luton.

-On a small piece of land? -Yeah, so?

And it was crucial that we sank the reservoirs before we built the shop.

Otherwise we would have had to, 'A,' build the shop, 'B,' knock it down, 'C,' sink the reservoirs, and 'D,' build the shop.

Which might well be how a woman would build a petrol station.

And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, apart from the fact that it's brainless.

-I'll tell you how a woman would build a petrol station.

She'd make sure there was enough land so that you could factor in a pleasant walk from the pump to the shop.

Maybe lay a bit of a lawn down.

-A lawn?

-With some flowers and a rockery and somewhere for the kids to play.

-Kids?

-And a separate toilet block for the women, which has three times as many cubicles as the men's!

[ Cheers and applause ] -What do you want all that for? It's a petrol station.

-Yes, but it could be a nice petrol station.

-Nobody in their right mind wants petrol stations to be nice.

It's a bloody petrol station. It's not gonna work, is it?

Me and you. Men and women. -No.

-That's a shame, 'cause I really fancy you.

-Thank you.

I've always wanted to be a sex object.

-It's better than not being a sex object, isn't it?

-Grrr!

-We're supposed to be going to Majorca.

-You can't deliver Majorca, Francis. You're a loser.

-Who's this letter for again?

-Your guvnor. Don't open it.

-I have to find out who it's for.

-Just give it to your boss. -It's not as easy as that.

-I don't see what the problem is.

-Look, there's no name on the envelope.

-What do you need a name for?

-Because -- Because I can't tell you.

It's actually very complicated, and really you don't want to know.

Aaargh!

-What's up, Dolly? -No idea.

-Francis. What's that?

-It's a letter for you.

-Why didn't you just say it was for Roscoe?

-Because I'm a woman, and I'm really stupid and I can't be trusted to do anything properly.

Ohh! Ohh!

Men! Huuhh!

-This letter's been opened, Francis.

-I'm Francis. Yes?

-This is the second private letter you've opened today.

-I haven't read it. Honest, guv.

Test me on the contents.

-Alright. Who's it from?

-Cilla Black. -Incorrect.

-See, I told you I hadn't read it.

-This ain't gonna work.

All he's got to do is make up a stupid answer.

-Mr. Duck, please.

That is what a dishonest man would do.

Me, I will try and answer every question correctly.

-'Cause you're a simple, honest man.

-Without any artifice.

-I don't have any qualifications at all.

-A second private letter has been opened.

I have no choice.

You're sacked.

-[ Sniffles ] [ High-pitched voice ] Please don't!

You are... Thank you for the opportunity.

-No!

I opened the letter.

-Come again?-I'm worried sick about Pauline.

I can't help her if I don't know what she's up to.

So I opened the letter, and I read it.

-You've read the letter? -Mm-hmm.

-I don't believe you.

I think you're just trying to get Francis off the hook.

-Test me on the contents.

-Oh, bloody hell, you can't believe her.

She'll be trying to get well in with him.

I know you around men. -What?

And I don't know you, Charlie Clench?

I know how the business works.

I know where the money goes. I know... -Yeah, yeah, alright, alright.

You're very knowledgeable. -I'm going home.

Nice to see you, Francis.

I like your friend Paddy.

He's not an idiot.

-[ Normal voice ] I promise I can change.

-I'll go and see my mate Dino. Give me 10 minutes.

Carlotti's Amusements on the front.

-I don't want it in pennies.

-Larger denominations are available.

Dino Carlotti is solid, he owes me one.

-That's what worries me.

You don't owe me one, Charlie, you owe me six.

Pauline is in a bit of a state, fearful of what Alan might do.

Maybe it's time to come clean.

Where are you going? -Me?

-Come here.

-Aah!

-Who's that hitting my man?

-What did you do that for?

-What's my name? -Roscoe Crabbe.

-And what have you heard about the Crabbes?

-Don't worry, we're not going there.

You don't mess with them.

-If you need me, I'll be at Carlotti's Amusements on the front.

What are you gonna do?

-I'm gonna get on with your ironing, then go and find Paddy on the pier, like I said.

-Who's Paddy?! -Paddy's a friend of mine who works as a sort of butler to someone in Brighton who's going teach me how to iron properly so that nobody gets seriously injured.

-Good man.

Afternoon.

-God. My nerves.

-Henshall, what's going on?

I swear I saw a chap slap you across the chops.

-Yeah, it was one of the locals.

-Country life! What had you done?

-I, uh, I kissed his girlfriend.

-What, out of the blue, you just went up and kissed a chap's girl?

-Yeah.

-Well, that's a bit Japanese.

I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm on his side.

Come here. -What?

-Come here. Stand there.

-Oh, guv, come on. -Stand still.

-Aah!

-Once more.

There you go.

Watch the birdie.

This one, this one, this one... -Ow, ow!-That bamboozled you, didn't it?

There we go!

Oh, no, rozzer.

Hello.

-Afternoon. -Is it?

Oh, yes, done, yes. I will give you one hour to finish my ironing that you never started.

And then I want you to go to the pier and find Paddy.

-So that's the downside of two jobs.

Double the bollockings.

♪♪ -♪ We're good girls -♪ We're good girls -♪ Not naughty girls -♪ We're nice ♪ And good girls never should girls ♪ ♪ Be accomplice to a murder more than twice ♪ ♪ If your man has done the deed ♪ ♪ And it's made him all knock-kneed ♪ ♪ Keep him calm and then proceed ♪ ♪ To offer this advice ♪ Lighten up and lay low ♪ Flee the scene of the crime ♪ Lighten up and lay low ♪ No one wants to be doing time ♪ ♪ Tidy up and say, Joe, if you want to stay free ♪ ♪ Keep schtum, lighten up and lay low with me ♪ ♪ Be sure the weapon is dispensable ♪ ♪ Keep him sensible, do ♪ Provocation is defensible, true ♪ ♪ But do you wanna risk it?

♪ Lighten up and lay low ♪ Flee the scene of the crime ♪ Lighten up and lay low ♪ No one wants to be doing time ♪ ♪ Tidy up and say, Joe, if you want to stay free ♪ ♪ Keep schtum, lighten up and lay low with me ♪ ♪ Yeah ♪ Keep schtum, lighten up and lay low with me ♪ ♪ With me ♪ With me ♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪ ♪♪ -Mr. Stubbers is having a lie-down in room 10.

Roscoe's still chasing Charlie for the money.

Right. That's Mr. Stubbers' shirts done.

My plan is to finish all the ironing, then go and look for Paddy on the pier.

Yes, I know Paddy doesn't exist.

It's that sort of insanity that makes perfect sense when you've got two jobs.

What's that?

It's a framed photograph of Mr. Stubbers.

But these are Roscoe's shirts.

What's my guvnor number 1 Roscoe doing with a framed photograph of my guvnor number 2, Mr. Stubbers?

-Henshall, is there a shirt ready yet?

[ Yawns ] What are you gawping at, Henshall?

Never seen a man naked from the waist up, eh?

Don't tell me you're one of those chaps that didn't shower.

That's how we won two world wars.

The Germans had the superior technology, but our officers showered together.

What's that?

-Sorry, guv, that's mine.

-This is a framed photograph of me on graduation day.

It's the very one I gave to Rachel, I think.

Is it me?

Yes, that third-class degree in Zoology has got my name on it.

Why do you have a framed photograph of me in your possession?

Are you developing a thing for me?

-No, guvie. It's a nice frame.

-Where did you get it?

-I've got to be very careful what I say here.

I bought it off Paddy, who was given it by his previous employer in lieu of payment before he died.

-Before he -- Before he did what?

-Before he did die. -He did die, did he?

-He did. -What did he die of?

-He was diagnosed with diarrhea, but he died of diabetes.

-He died of diabetes, did he? -He did, didn't he?

-Where you there? -When?

-When he was diagnosed with diarrhea but died of diabetes?

-No, I was in Didcot.

And he was diagnosed with diarrhea but died of diabetes in Dagenham.

-When did he die? -Of diabetes or of diarrhea?

-He didn't die of diarrhea. He died of diabetes.

-He did, did he? Where? -In Dagenham, damn it.

That's what you said.

-Oh, yeah, Paddy said it was it was a couple of days ago.

-Then Rachel is dead.

She is all I live for.

Grief, grief.

My, um, my girl, my love, my life... She's...uh... ...everything, you see.

There is really nothing without her.

Sor-- Sorry.

-Well, that went quite well.

It's my number 1 guvnor, Roscoe, and Mr. the Duck!

-I'm disappointed in Dino.

It's not like Dino to let me down.

I'm glad you didn't take his cheque.

-I mean, what's a cheque?

A cheque is a promise.

And a promise in this modern world is about as much use as a nun's... -Charlie, please.

-I'm sorry. Did I offend you?

I thought we were all men together.

-Your failure to deliver means that I will have to change my plans. -Give me the weekend.

I'm playing golf Sunday. -Shut it.

Francis, look in my trunk, find my diary.

-Oh, no.

Can you remember which trunk's Roscoe's?

What? This one?

Yes!

Thank you so much.

You, madam, are a life-saver.

Here you go, guv!

Thank you so much.

Thank you.

-This is not my diary! -You stupid cow!

[ Laughter ] [ Laughing ] There it is!

I've been looking all over for that.

-It's mine.

-[ Stammering ] The reason is... I haven't owned a diary very long myself, and as yet, I don't recognise the diary that easily.

-This diary is Stanley's.

These are the letters in which I expressed my love for him.

Letters and diagram, which celebrate the most intimate details of our love making.

Oh, my God! But how...? Francis.

How come this diary and these private letters are in your possession?

-I've got to be very careful what I say here.

I bought it off Paddy. -The ironing expert?

-Yes. Who was given it by his previous employer in lieu of payment before he died.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

-He died, did he?

-Oh, God.

He did.

-How did he die?

-He died of...disease.

-Where?

-Where was the disease, or where did he die of disease?

-Where did he die of disease?

-Dorking. -And where was the disease?

-In his diaphragm.

-So he died of a disease of the diaphragm in Dorking?

-He did, didn't he? -Do you know Dorking?

-I don't. Do you know Dorking, Mr. Duck?

-Indeed I do. Dorking is directly north of here.

-One might pass through Dorking on the way to Brighton?

-If you're daft and don't know what you're doing, definitely.

-Definitely Stanley.

Stanley dead? No.

My love, dead?

No.

This cannot be.

Without Stanley, my life is nothing.

I do not want to live, here, on this Earth, alone without him.

I have given him my life, my love, my body.

-Bloody hell, he's a woman!

-Roscoe?

You're not Roscoe, you're Rachel!

-Yes.

I am in disguise as my twin brother, who is also dead.

I have lost a brother and the love of my life both in the one week. -You proper fooled us.

I take my hat off to you.

I guess it was easy enough 'cause you and Roscoe was identical twins.

-Roscoe was a man!

I, as you can see, am a woman.

So we cannot be identical twins!

-Why not?

-Excuse me, gentlemen.

I am in mourning... for a brother and a husband.

♪♪ -[ Wailing loudly ] ♪♪ My God, Rachel!

Rachel, I love you!

[ Water splashes ] [ Wind whistling ] ♪♪ -[ Wailing loudly ] ♪♪ ♪♪ [ Screams ] -Rachel, no!

-Stay there, Lloyd. -What you doing, girl?

-I will, Lloyd, I will. Stanley is dead.

I love him. He is everything.

Without him, this life has nothing to offer me.

-Rachel?

-Stanley?

-Mr. Pubsign?

-Oh.

No. This is my Stanley.

Stanley Stubbers.

Who I thought was dead.

-Oh, I understand.

-Rachel, my darling, I thought I'd lost you.

-I cried, Stanley,you don't know how much I cried.

-Can I make a suggestion? -Yes, Lloyd.

-Don't you think it might be a good idea if you both stepped down from off of these railings here so you can talk?

And don't be throwing both yourlives away over nothing no more.

-Good thinking.

Oh. My little badger.

-My hairy bear.

-My time to go.

-Mmm! Lloyd, wait.

Can I ask a favour, please?

I'm pretty certain my minder is behind this.

Drag his backside down here, could you, so I can tear him off a strip? -I will.

-Thank you, Lloyd.

-I can't say no to you.

You're like a daughter to me, girl.

You're the very best of men, Lloydie.

Has anyone ever told you that?

-Yes.

-Badgie! -My hairy bear!

-Oh, God!

But what made you think I was dead, Badgie?

-I was scared after the fight, and I hired a minder for protection, and he had these.

-Bacon and eggs! That's my private diary.

-And all the love letters I've ever sent you.

-No!

-He said he knew a man who'd worked for you.

-For me? -For you.

But you'd died, and you'd given him the diary in lieu of payment on your death bed.

-Well, I don't remember doing any of this.

Did he read any of your love letters?

-I can't be sure. -Let's hope not, eh?

Some of them had some really good bits.

-But why did you think I was dead?

-Because I was lying low, I had to hire a manto go to the post office for me.

And that man had in his possession a framed photograph of me, the very one I gave to you because you said you needed a... Ohh.

The only one I gave to you because you said you needed a visual aid for your... well, you know... -But how come your man had my photograph of you?

-He said he'd been given it by a friend of his who'd got it off a friend's employer who'd died.

So I thought you must be my chap's friend's employer who'd died.

-Did you feel terrible, hairy bear?

-Ohhh. I've never felt worse.

I felt like a floral clock in the middle of winter.

-That's exactly how I felt.

All the flowers dead.

-And yet the mechanism of the clock pointlessly turning.

-The hour hand pointing to a dead geranium.

-The minute hand stuck on a long-gone begonia.

-That's what I like about us.

-If I say there's cats on my curtains, you say... -There's dogs on my wall.

-Oh! Ooh!

Ooh! Ooh!

Oh, God, yeah, baby, I've missed this.

Come on, let's go, you and me, right here.

Damn it, I've just remembered.

Your twin brother Roscoe is here in Brighton looking to kill me.

-Roscoe is dead. He died instantly.

-When I killed him? -Yes.

-But someone told me he was staying at The Cricketers Arms.

-No, that was me, disguised as my brother.

-You're not staying at The Cricketers Arms, are you?

-Yes. -Lucky dip, so am I.

Have you got a double?

-Stanley, I can't think about that right now.

-Really? I can't think of anything else.

-I'm afraid, I've been thinking. I'm sorry.

I really don't want to go to Australia.

-Oh, thank Christ. I never did.

I can't stand bloody opera.

-What can we do?

-Could you marry a murderer?

-I guess. I'm already in love with a murderer.

-Who? -You.

-Oh, God, don't do that!

-I will marry you if we can find a way of staying in England.

Here's one of the troublemakers now.

-Not the worst of the two, I'll wager.

-Thank you, Lloyd.

-No problem. -Yes, thank you, Lloyd, but in an ideal world, we'd have both of them here.

-Yes, that's true, we must have both of them here, Lloyd.

-It wouldn't be cricket, would it, to light a fire under oneand let the other off scot free?

-He's the only one I've seen.

Alfie might know.

-Alfie, have you seen the other gentleman?

-There's new toilets at the end of the pier.

-Have you ever seen this Paddy?

-We had to put newspaper down because I'd had a banana.

-One moment in private with the lady?

-Yeah.

-Wish me luck.

-Well?

-It's all his Paddy's fault. -We must punish this Paddy.

-I've come up with a completely brilliant plan to do just that.

You know Charlie Clench's bookkeeper Dolly?

-What's she got to do with this?

-His Paddy is trying to trick her into going for a dirty weekend with him in Margate.

-How do you know? -Paddy showed me the handcuffs.

But I know Paddy only wants her for her body, whereas my intentions are pure. I love her.

-When did this happen?

-About half past 10:00 this morning.

I've asked her to go to Majorca with me, you see, only I can't afford it.

I need 50 quid and next week off.

-It would certainly be revenge on Paddy, and much more satisfying than a punch in the face.

He nearly caused two suicides.

-And you'll be rescuing Dolly from two days face down, handcuffed to a Margate four poster.

-[ Gasps ] Here's 50.

-It seems to me as though this Paddy is the cause of all our problems.

-We've got a plan. -Leave this to me.

One moment, Miss.

Whew.

This is all her Paddy's fault. -When you find her Paddy, tell him he's gonna get a beating from me.

-Don't even think about it. Listen, I've come up with a completely brilliant plan to punish her Paddy without any physical risk to ourselves.

-Hit me. -There is this shy, sweet, innocent young girl named Dolly.

-Is she a virgin? -Definitely.

-I went out with a virgin once.

Not for long, obviously, that would be stupid.

-Her Paddy is trying to trick her into going for a dirty weekend with him in Margate.

-What a country life.

-But I know her Paddy, he only wants her for her body.

-Bit of a bra advert. is she? -She's beautiful.

-Yeah, I do like buzzwams.

-As long as she can remember, her whole life, she has always dreamt of one day, visiting Majorca, but she ain't got the 50 quid for a ticket.

If you could pay for her to go to Spain, she'd much rather go there instead of Margate.

You'd be rescuing her from Paddy's evil scheme and punishing Paddy at the same time.

-That is brilliant.

Let's have a little looky.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, here's 50.

I want you to get down to Thomas Cooks and buy that poor girl a ticket.

-Thanks.

Now, listen, do you think we should let her go to Spain on her own?

-No, not Spain.

Not with their men.

Can't trust a Spaniard alone with a Swiss roll.

When's this dirty weekend?

-It's the week after next.

-Right. Let's have another little looky.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, here's another 50, sterling.

You, my boy, are just going to have to go with her yourself.

And if anything does happen between you, at least the cherry was plucked by an Englishman.

-150 quid!

That's 2 flights and 50 spenders.

I'm a genius.

[ Whistle blows ] -Rozzers!

-Oh, my God. What do we do? -Split up.

Meet at Charlie's. Alfie!

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ -♪ Brighton line ♪ Brighton line ♪ London to Brighton line ♪♪ ♪ London to Brighton line ♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪ -How long's this gonna take?

I should have finished work at 6:00.

And in an ideal world, I'd be home by now relaxing in a hot bath with a fireman.

-Come on, Pauline, forgive the lad.

He made a mistake.

We've all made mistakes.

I married your mother.

-Oh, God.

-Listen, will you?

Alan thought you'd gone off with another fella, so he went into one. Who wouldn't?

-The pain you now endure... -Oh, no, he's started up again.

-...matches my own suffering.

I will wake every day and pray for clouds, for clouds bring gloom.

And gloom is all it would be without you, Pauline.

Sunshine would be an invasion, out of place, unwelcome, like a big horse in a pub.

-Acquit, my boy, lovers are lunatics, imagine what delights a reunion would unleash.

Magnum bonum.

-Steady on.

-[ Sighs ] You've been very cruel.

-She sighed. Did you hear that? That's good.

-Progress. A sigh is like lightning.

Rain will not be far behind.

-You've been really, really horrible to me recently, Alan.

-There is tenderness there. -She called him Alan.

-I would cut myself and offer you my blood, but first observe my tears.

[ Grunting ] -Cor, look at that!

He can turn it on like a tap.

You got to give it to him, haven't you?

Amazing. Where's he gone again?

-RADA.

-Turn around, girl, you can't miss this.

He's actually crying real tears.

-Is he crying properly or just acting?

-There are tears, yeah.

-Oh. Don't cry, Alan. -Excellent.

-Them tears done the trick.

-Pauline, will you share your life with me?

-Yes. -Come on, girl.

-I don't know, you said you loathed me.

-Oh.

-I did loathe you, yes.

But that was in the distant past, this afternoon, when I was tossedon the ocean of love's vagaries.

-Eh?

-I was deranged, aberrant, demented.

-I don't understand. -Sorry. I was... [ Doorbell rings ] -...on tilt. -Like a pinball machine?

-Exactly. -Oh, you poor thing.

-We're home. -And dry.

-Do you forgive me, my love? -Well... -It's Lloyd, with a woman and a man and Roscoe's minder.

-Shh! -Let them in Dad, please.

I want to know if Rachel's alright.

-If Rachel's alright? What about me?

-Oh, no. -Oh, no.

-I do forgive you, Alan.

That's what love is, isn't it?

Forgiving someone when they've been a right twat.

-My heart is now in your hands.

-Oh. -Yes!

-Done! -Charlie.

-I want a word with you, Lloydie.

You're supposed to be my best china.

-I don't think -- -Did you know about this?

-Yessir, I did.

What I did, I did for her.

She's a great girl.

She's like a daughter to me, man.

-I apologise to you, Alan, and to Charlie,for disguising myself as Roscoe.

-I guess it was the obvious thing to do... ...given you was identical twins.

-Charlie, it is not possible to have identical twins of different sexes. -You say that... -'Identical' comes from the Latin root 'idem,' meaning 'the same,' which has been bastardised in the English to 'ident.'

-What about 'ical'? What does that mean?

-Small.

Yeah.

In Jamaica an ical bit of cake is a small piece of cake.

-Yeah, so ident-ical means the same but an ical bit different.

With identical twins, that might mean the same but with some small differences.

-Like gender? -Yes.

-I'll do this once, Charlie, and once only.

Identical twins, also known as monozygotic twins, develop when a single sperm fertilises a single egg to form a single zygote, hence monozygote, which then splits and forms two embryos, which carry identical genetic material.

Dizygotic twins are formed when two separate eggs are fertilised by two separate sperm to form two separate zygotes.

Twins of different gender must be dizygotic.

They cannot be monozygotic identical twins because they would have to be, by definition, of the same gender.

-What's your point? -Charlie!

-Let me explain!

-Forget it, forget it, man!

You're flogging a dead horse.

-Charlie, this is Stanley.

-I'm so glad everything's worked out for you.

I'm all sorted with Alan now and all.

-Yeah, it's all good. I'm glad it's sorted.

I can relax now.

-You still owe my father. -God rest his soul.

-You owe my family, me, 6 grand. -Fair dues.

You can't argue with that, Charlie.

-Was I arguing?

I have every intention of paying it.

The money's not a problem, Rachel.

Just give me a couple of years.

-[ Laughs ] -What?

-Me and Stanley have decided to stay in England.

-What you gonna do?

-We're going to get married. -Congratulations.

-And then we're going to the police to face the music. -You do right.

Let me tell you something. The police love you.

You rid the East End of Roscoe Crabbe.

-Oh, so you're the fella that killed her brother?

-Yes. I shall plead self-defence.

-What you need is a good solicitor.

This is Harry Dangle. He's the best.

He got the Mau Mau off.

-But in Kenya, the Mau Mau went on a rampage, killing 100,000 innocent men, women and children.

-Allegedly.

-Impressed.

-I understand that the only witness to the killing of Roscoe Crabbe was Rachel... -Yeah.

-...who is also your intended? -Certainly.

-In this country a wife cannot give sworn evidence against her husband in a criminal trial.

-What does that mean?

-There are no witnesses to the crime.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah, um... I did actually kill him.

-No, you plead not guilty.

-But that would be lying. -Well, lying ain't difficult.

Here, give it a go.

Did you kill Roscoe Crabbe?

-No. -See, it's easy.

-Ha ha ha!

-Where were you on the day in question?

-Argentina.

-There, you've got it!

-The prospect of two weddings and a court case with fees.

What a wonderful day.

-Dolly, is that the man who's asked you to go to Majorca with him?

-Yeah.But I'll never get the time off.

You know what your dad's like.

-Dad, it's all very well, us all having a happy ending, but you ain't done nothing for Dolly.

-What's Dolly got to do with anything?

-Rachel's minder has asked her to go on holiday with him.

If you give her the time off, that'll be like three happy endings, wouldn't it?

-No, wait, Dolly, listen.

Don't accept the first offer you get.

Another man is in love with you and is offering a different kind of holiday.

-You spend your whole life waiting for one man, then two come along at once. -Like buses.

-I've always said men are like buses.

Smelly and unreliable.

What's the choice?

-A traditional British dirty weekend in Margate -- nylon sheets, wood chip, and rain.

That's 48 hours with nothing but a sex pest for company.

-Sounds good, yeah?

Or?

-A romantic week abroad. Majorca.

Sun, sand, sea.

-And my personal favourite, diving.

-That's a clear choice.

Now, what about the men?

-Well, Paddy is offering Margate.

-Whereas with this man, next week, you'll be in sunny Spain.

-I thought you said the week after next?

-Let me explain.

-I agreed that he could have next week off.

-I'm sorry, Badgie, but how can you agree something with my man?

I have said that Henshall could have the week after next off, and I've paid him £100.

-I've paid him £50 and given him next week off.

-Mm. Two weeks in Majorca.

-Francis? -Henshall?

-What's going on? -What's going on?

-It's all Paddy's fault. -Where is Paddy?

-I think he's outside.

What?

-Go and get him.

-Is that what you want, guv?

-Yes, it is.

-Dolly, have you met this Paddy character?

-Oh, yeah. -Do you like him?

-Yeah. He's a bit of a charmer.

-[ Laughing ] [ Irish accent ] Now then... what's the craic?

-Francis?

-[ Laughing ] No, I'm Paddy.

If yous are looking for me bro, he's outside.

-I know what's going on here.

Are you and Francis monozygotic twins?

-Yes! That's it! We are! Yes!

-Really? Really?

Well, I'm going to go outside and bring your brother back in.

-Oh, no, don't bother yourself, I'll go.

-No, you stay there. Go on, Stanley.

-Oh, grand.

[ Door closes ] Oh, dear.

Oh, bejaysus, Mary and the little donkey, I forgot to buy me swimming trunks.

I'd better go before the shops... -Stay there.

-You little... -Mr... -See, I thought Paddy worked for you.

-I thought Paddy was yours.

-Who does Paddy work for?

-Oh, man, he doesn't exist.

-[ Normal voice ] I made Paddy up.

I've been working for you, and simultaneously at the same time for you.

I'm only one man, but I had two guvnors.

I'm sorry you feel deceived, both of you, but I worked hard, didn't I?

I held down two jobs, and... -Nearly caused a double suicide.

-Only the man who never doesnothing never makes no mistakes.

[ Laughs ] You judge me as you wish to be judged.

Because you both deceived people today for love.

You, guvnor, and you, guvnor.

You can't criticise me for doing the same, for I, too, have fallen in love.

-Oh, sweet. -He's right.

There's no harm done.

-I forgive you.

You can have next week off.

-I'd be a cad to complain.

Take the week after next off, too.

-Dolly, what do you say?

-Charlie, can I have a fortnight holiday, please?

On full pay? -Oh, bloody hell.

This happy ending's turning out expensive.

Go on then.

-Give her a kiss, man.

-Oh, yummy!

-A bunk up in Majorca.

See, sometimes being a liar works.

And with Dolly here, you got to saythere's bound be some fireworks.

♪ I clocked on early, clocked off late ♪ ♪ Didn't eat till 2:00 ♪ I walked the walk and talked the talk ♪ ♪ And then I fell for you ♪ A bloody northerner ♪ It's been a day of minor catastrophe ♪ -♪ It's been a day of sink or swim ♪ -♪ I've done a lot of grovelling on my knees ♪ -♪ I better go and shave me legs ♪ ♪ Because I'm off to Spain with him ♪ -♪ Yesterday seems like last week ♪ ♪ Last week seems like last year ♪ ♪ But tomorrow looks good from here, oh, yeah ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here ♪ -♪ I was incognito and lying low ♪ -♪ I've been dressed up as a man ♪ -♪ There were times I thought you would never show ♪ -♪ I can't wait to rip your clothes off ♪ -♪ Gonna sort you when I can -♪ Australia was looming dark -♪ Australia was near -♪ Tomorrow looks good from here, oh, yeah ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here ♪ -♪ It's been a bus ride to hell and back again ♪ ♪ I felt like Mozart with just one hand ♪ ♪ Now she's mine, I'm back on track again ♪ -♪ A lot of stuff's been going on that I didn't understand ♪ ♪ Yesterday was lovely, yeah ♪ Today was nowhere near -♪ But tomorrow looks good from here, oh, yeah ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here ♪ -♪ I've got a package deal with one of these southerners ♪ -♪ I'm only one man, but I got two guvnors ♪ -♪ Tomorrow looks good from here, oh, yeah ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here, oh, yeah ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good from here ♪ ♪ Tomorrow looks good, looks good ♪ ♪ Looks good from here!

♪ Yeah [ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] -To find out more, visit pbs.org/greatperformances.

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