03x06 - Aff

[bunniefuu]

Right, then.

Let's get a look at you.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Not good.

Not good at all.

Aye. Not good. Not good at all.

It's all in the chest. Listen.

(Coughs noisily)

I'm just gonnae have a lie-doon
on the couch

wi' a wee hot-water bottle.

Yes, John. Bye.

(Chuckles)

Ah. That'll gie the bastard
something to think aboot.

- Bad news.
- What is?

Making out you're at death's door
and him away over there worried sick.

Is he buggery.

He called last month though, when
I had the flu. I was bad with it, Jack.

- Aye.
- He gives it on the phone.

"It's probably just a cold. Take a couple
of aspirins and away to your bed."

Mm.

That's you clammed now
cos you know what he's like.

He's an uncaring bastard.

- That's enough.
- Know what he was saying?

- What?
- "We probably won't get a holiday, Dad.

"We're too busy." Which I know is pish,
because the grandwean let slip to me

that they're going to her ma's
for a fortnight in er... Runcorn.

I mean, that's only just doon the road.

Yes, you're quite right, Victor.

You have indeed been treated shoddily,
nae, shitely.

If I were you,
I would contact my city solicitor

and inform them the McDade millions

will not be passed on
to the natural son John

but awarded in its totality
to the cat and dug home.

He shall suffer for his lack of concern
by receiving not a curdy of my millions

and none of the stuff.

Surely he'll be expecting to be
bequeathed the side plate of Blackpool.

Nor will he ever clap eyes
on the tea towel of Balloch.

- Oh, Peg. How did you get on?
- Fantastic. She was that accurate.

- What did she tell you?
- I'm coming into money.

- Aye.
- I'm gonna get a holiday.

- Oh!
- I've to worry less.

Oh, aye...

- And I've got a big change coming.
- That's great news. Good for you.

- Aye.
- (Woman) Next!

Oh, jings. That's me. Oh! (Giggles)

Leave your scampi on the table, hen.

- I dinnae want my tent honked oot.
- All right.

Oh, dear. If it isnae Long John Silver.

If I was Long John Silver, you'd be first
to walk the plank, you wank.

Tam, Eric.

Ooh...

- What's wrong with you?
- My foot's loupin'. I can barely stand.

- Is it a bunion?
- No, it's not a bunion.

Here. Wait till I show you.

Whoa, you bastard! What is that?

Put your slipper back on.
That would give me the boak.

The doctor's gonna give me something.

- A hacksaw?
- Whoa! What a joy to behold.

That's no' getting better. It's finished.

When it drops off next week, I'll give you
a tenner if I can stick it behind the bar.

Shut up, Boabby. I'm in agony here.

Oh. What's going on?

It's a scampi and tarot night. £ . .
Peggy organised it.

- What's tarot?
- Cards. Looking into the future and that.

Apparently, she's very, very good.

Lot o' shite!

Whisky, Boabby.

Er... What happened there?

- She didn't like her reading.
- Well... what did you tell her?

She's gonna get knocked doon
next Thursday.

- What did you tell her that for?
- That's what it said in the cards.

You're here to entertain,
not to tell 'em they're going to snuff it.

Boabby, the cards dinnae lie.

Is there somebody here in pain?

Wi' a leg or a foot?

Gie us my scampi.

- It is a bit wiffy, in't it?
- Aye. A wee bit.

- Do you smoke, Mr Ingram?
- No, no. Not at all, son.

Gie'd it up five year ago. Too dear.

- How many did you smoke a day?
- ... ... Say .

?

Right, well, I would say
that could be the reason for your foot.

I'm gonna send you to see a Dr Fletcher
at the Royal. Get him to have a look at it.

Is it that bad, is it?

- It's pretty bad.
- Bad enough for Attendance Allowance?

Oh, yes, I would say so. I'll just have
to fill out a form for the social security.

- Yes, you dancer!
- Now, listen.

That's the number of the hospital.
Can you get there tomorrow?

No problem, son. There's just
one other person I've got to see first.

I'm in the money, I'm in the money

I've got a gammy foot and it's worth
quid a week Attendance Allowance

What are you looking for cheerful about?

Doctor says I have to get
extra social security cos of my bad foot.

What's the matter with it?

- Jesus!
- That's boggin'. What caused that?

Years and years of smoking.
Here, you might get lucky, Jack.

You could be next. Cheery-bye.

- You'll be back fishing it oot o' there.
- Pish. That's me done w' it.

Jesus,
I have known you a long, long time

and I have never seen you
without that pipe.

I know. Aye.

- You've got to watch it.
- How's that?

They say that when you stop smoking,
the first thing is your weight sh**t up.

- Oh, aye?
- Aye.

- To do with the increase in appetite.
- Is that a fact, eh?

Oh, look at that. You've got a message
on your answering machine.

- I'll retrieve that.
- Indeed you will not.

Last time I had a message,
you rubbed it oot.

Oh, Mr Popular.
That was about two bloody year ago.

Have you no' had a phone call
since then?

You're just jealous cos I've got
a machine and I've got a message.

- Are you gonna let us hear it or what?
- Right.

You may retrieve the message now.

- Oh, shite.
- What?

- I've only went and rubbed it oot.
- Hey!

Only kidding. Are you ready?

- Aye, ready.
- OK.

(John) Hi. Dad. You're no'in.
Um... Maybe you're sleeping.

Look, I hope you're feeling better.
I'II, er... phone later.

(Answerphone beeps)

- There you are.
- What?

He's worried. Look. John calls me,
if I'm lucky, every six months.

He's called yesterday.
He was on the phone the other day.

He's sitting up
and he's paying attention now.

That's not fair.
You've got him worried for nothing.

(Phone)

Oh, well. It seems to be working.

(Weakly) Hello, John, son.

Yes, I got your message.

I just went out
for a wee bit of fresh air there.

Thought it might do me some good.

No, I just seem to have tired masel' oot.

Jack?

Yes, Jack's here. How...

(Whispers) He wants to speak to you.
Come on.

Get it up you.
I am not telling any lies for you.

Here he is.

Hello, John.

(Jack) Uh-huh.
Aye, he's not great, is he? No.

But he's got me, sure. Aye.

Aye. I'll make sure
he gets a right good rest.

(Coughs)

That's a smashing idea, son. That's what
to do. Aye. Phone the morrow. OK.

Right you are, Johnny-boy.

See you later now. All the... All the...

You are one big, lousy bastard.

I know. I feel lousy, really lousy.

Oh. How are you doing, Isa?

Terrible. Do you know what
that bloody spaewife says to me?

- The spaewife.
- She says "You'll hear about a birth.

"You're gonna get lucky with money."
And get this.

"You're gonna die on Thursday."

- What are you laughing at?
- You don't believe that, do you?

I don't know. Everybody else
said she was dead accurate.

She's put the fear of God in me.

- So how will you meet your maker?
- Knocked doon by car. A silver car.

Oh, wait a minute. I've got a silver car.

Maybe I'll knock you down on Thursday,
so I don't have to pay you on Friday.

That's not funny. I gave her £ . .

- £ . for your fortune?
- You get a plate of scampi an' all.

Hold the bus. I think it is safe to assume
your spaewife is talking pish.

- How's that?
- Scampi, eh?

A big bag of that from the Cash and
Carry will set you back about £ . .

- How many of you were there?
- Er... Eight of us.

Eight portions. So that's a quid a skull.
Was there tartare sauce?

- Oh, aye.
- Another p, leaves you with £ . .

£ . ?

With transport and travel
there and back, say £ each way, is £ .

Divided by the eight people is p. Take
that from the £ . , leaves you with p.

So you're telling me
you queued up to pay pence

to be told you're going to pop your clogs
on Thursday?

Forgive me, Isa,
but you're being a stupid cow.

If you could read fortunes,
would you only be charging pence?

- Would you buggery.
- Aye.

Give me p. I'll tell you when you wake
up tomorrow, you'll be Brigitte Bardot.

I suppose you're right, Navid.

Six eggs, Navid.

Oh, hello, Isa.

Isa, that Noreen Kipwood had a wee boy.

Seven pounds, six ounces.

Wooo!

- Here, have you a wee sharp Kn*fe?
- I do, aye. How?

I brought carrots.
I'm going to cut them up.

Then what are you going to do?
Stick them together again?

No. I'm gonna eat them.
That's gonna keep me off the pipe.

How are you getting on with that?

Shite, actually.
Couldnae get to sleep for ages last night

and then when I eventually did drop off,
dreams.

- What kind of dreams?
- Pipe dreams.

Me, bollock-naked, running aboot a
tobacco field in slow motion, like that.

The field's on fire, but I'm not worried.
I just lie down, fill my lungs like that.

- Those wee carrots are gonna save you?
- Ah, well. Let's hope so.

- (Phone)
- Ah. That'll be my John.

- What are you doing?
- Just getting into character.

Hello?

Hello, John.

You're what? Afternoon, you say?

Right. OK, bye.

- Jack?
- What?

That was John.
He's at the airport. He's here!

- He's gonna be here in half an hour!
- I bloody telt you.

- Telt me what?
- Putting on that performance. Now look.

- What are we gonna dae?
- We? Don't drag me into it.

- I'm down a hole here.
- Aye, but you dug it yersel'.

Giving it all that "I'm gonna go and lie
on the couch with a hot-water bottle.

"I'm no' well." You put the boy
into a frenzy and now he's here.

Right, right. You open the door...

- Aye.
- And you say, "You're too late.

"Your dad's dead."

Utter shite. He was only just off the
phone to you. Says he'll be half an hour.

What do I do? Open the door and say,
"Hello. In you come.

"By the way,
your dad d*ed ten minutes ago."

You're right, it's garbage, Jack.
You think of something.

- How do I?
- You were the last one to speak to him.

You probably laid it on too thick.
You're to blame.

Oh, aye. I see. I'm to blame. I'm gonna
accept that. In fact, here's what we'll do.

I'll get an Irn Bru bottle, right,
and batter your bastardin' melon, mate!

Then you will be ill
when he comes to the door.

What a bloody spot you've got us into.

Hold on a bit.

How does this sound?

- (Isa) Oh, no.
- What's up with you?

Oh, I found a tenner, Navid.
Oh, jeez, that's bad.

What's bad about finding?
Ah, the spaewife.

First the birth,
now finding the money, uh?

I'm gonna get k*lled by a car
on Thursday!

Now, Isa. Calm your beans.
It's a coincidence.

- I know.
- You're not gonnae die on Thursday.

Take it easy. Put it to the back of your
mind. Don't be ruled by such silliness.

- You think?
- Aye.

- Och, I'm just being daft, aren't I?
- Aye.

But, you know, just in case, huh? Maybe
I should pop this in the window, eh?

Ha-bloody-ha!

Er... Grapes. Any grapes?

Aye, just there.

Oh, right. Wait a minute.
People's Friend. People's Friend.

Oh, and I need the Lucozade
and the paracetamol.

Right-o.

I need hankies. They'll do.

- You OK there?
- Me? Aye. What a bloody day I'm having.

Er... I've gi'ed up the pipe, you know.

Oh, good for you.

I'm all jangly, you know?

- I'm sure that'll pass.
- I'm sure it will.

If I ask you for tobacco, under no
circumstances let me have it, OK?

- Understood.
- However much I want it.

- However much you want it.
- I've no' to get it.

- You've no' to get it.
- Begging, pleading, shouting, bawling,

down on my knees. No tobacco.

- No tobacco.
- Yeah. OK.

See you later.

I'll take a packet of tobacco.

- Navid!
- Come on. A sale's a sale.

- Ah, ye big bastard, ye.
- It'll always be here for you, Jack.

(Navid giggles)

(Doorbell)

(Victor) Jack?

- (Victor) Who's that?
- It's your son, John.

Came to visit you.

Dad?

John, son.

It's good... (Coughs)

Come closer, son.

Let me see you.

Ah. You're getting old. Just like your da.

- How was your flight, son?
- Och, never mind that. How are you?

You know. Jack?

- What?
- Can I get a wee cup of tea?

- Aye. Aye.
- Jack?

Could you run us up
a wee plate of sandwiches an' all?

- What do you want in them?
- Cheese.

Could you grate it, but?

- Grate it?
- Put a wee bit of onion through it.

- Onion.
- And Branston pickle.

Pickle. Right.

Right. Hello, Mr Ingram.

You wish to apply for
Attendance Allowance.

- For my foot.
- You take fits?

No. For my foot.

- What's wrong?
- Knackered.

- What do you mean?
- Sore when I walk, when I sleep.

It's just sore all the time.

- Right. You want extra money for that?
- Yes.

- We'll need a doctor's report.
- Of course. That won't be a problem.

Of course it won't.

What do you mean "Of course it won't"?

Well, as I can see from your file, that's
one of the things you excel in. Claiming.

In , you claimed
for a new cooker and a new fire

because you said two big men came in,

tied you up and stole them.

That's right. That was horrible, that.

Right. And then last year,
you claimed a laundry allowance

because of incontinence
due to a motorcycling accident.

Yes, yes. That's quite correct.

I was on the sidecar of my mate Phil's
motorcycle and we hit an oil patch.

And boof! That was it.
It came away and... I shat myself.

That was me after that. I just got in the
way of it. I've been doing it ever since.

I've got a big nappy on right now.

Mm-hm. So this claim, to be honest,
is a bit of a let-down.

- Eh?
- It's not very imaginative.

- I do have a bad foot.
- I don't think you do.

Well, darlin'...

How would you like to get your tongue
in-between those tootsies?

Get that... off my desk.

I'll just get your form.

He's not staying with you, then?

No. He's checked himself
into one of the big hotels in the town.

Why don't you just come clean and tell
him you've been acting the goat?

That will be right.
He'll go off his nut, Jack.

- So when are you seeing him again?
- He's gonna pop up later.

Anyway,
that'll give us a chance to get a pint.

Ah!

- Dad?
- (Groans)

- What are you doing oot?
- What am I doing oot, Jack?

Eh? Er... I thought we could see
if he could maybe manage a wee pint.

With all due respect,
Dad should be inside.

John's right, Jack.
I should be in the house.

That's a lot of nonsense, Victor. Bit of
company will do you the world of good.

- I'll come with you.
- (Phone)

Excuse me, Dad, Jack. Hello?

It's the hotel. My Visa number. Aye.

- What'll we do?
- Er... Go for a pint.

But everyone in The Clansman
will be wondering what's wrong.

OK. Pint?

Aye, aye. Take your father's arm, there.

Er... I'll just stand here for a wee minute.

Catch my breath.
It's awful smoky in there, Jack.

- I'll wait with you, then.
- Right. I'll wait an' all, then.

Oh er... No, I'm not going to wait.
I'll go in the pub.

Here. Listen. Oh, Tam, Eric. Boabby.

- Victor, no' well at all.
- What's wrong with him?

- Nothing.
- Eh?

John's back from South Africa.
Victor said he's not well.

- Why's he doing that?
- He just is. Victor's laying it on thick.

Crinkle-cut... crisps.
That's what I like with my beer.

(Jack) So three lagers and the crisps.

- Let's get you a seat, Dad.
- Aye.

Beer, Victor? Are you sure?

I could get you a wee lemon tea or
a hot chocolate seeing as you're no' well.

You got a toilet in here?

I've got a terrible att*ck
of the thirsts here, Boabby.

I'll have a pint of lager. Victor's buying.

- Hey!
- Otherwise I'll start blabbering.

- You rat!
- (Tam) I'll have one an' all.

You know me, Victor.
I like you but I'd stick you in it.

- Single malt buys my silence.
- Right, you... bastards.

Jack, do you think he's buying it?

I don't know, Victor.
Looks a wee bit suspicious to me.

Here's what I'll do. I'll take a fall.

Oh, aye. Do that.

- Aaahh!
- You're down, you bloody clown.

It'd be better if he saw you doing it.

Right. I will cue you to fall, right?

(Clears throat)

Hold it... Hold it...

- Action.
- Aaahh!

False alarm. Not him. Up you get.

(Grunts)

- That's you.
- Eh?

- Victor!
- Aaahh!

Oh, I've fallen!

(Victor) Oh, the indignity!

Aw, son.

My hip.

Finished?

- Aye.
- Nothing wrong with you, is there?

No.

Give us your keys.

- How?
- Keys.

See you back at the flat.

(Clears throat) That'll be £ .
for your drinks, Mr Brando.

Ah, now, Doctor. Give it to me straight.

I can take it. I'm a man. Are they gonnae
have to hack it off? (Chuckles)

- Yes.
- What?

You should have come much sooner.

There's been no circulation in that foot
for too long.

Oh, ye bastard.

- Isa!
- Oh, Navid.

- You were standing waiting on it.
- I couldnae move.

I tell you what, I'll give that spaewife her
due, she's bloody good, but that's it.

It's over now. I think you're in the clear.

- John? John?
- No, Dad. Forget it.

John...

Nothing wrong with you now,
is there, Dad?

- For God's sake, hold on.
- No.

Look, stop right there.

I'm very angry at you right now.

I know, I know.

- I'm way outta line.
- Outta line?

I flew over here worried sick.

For what? For nothing. There's
absolutely nothing wrong with you.

I know. I know.

Do you no' think I've got better things
to do than travelling here for a joke?

For a prank?

- Listen, son...
- I'm busy.

I'm at a very important
part of my career right now.

I'm sorry.

Oh, it's a bad way to behave.
I've been stupid. I'm a silly old bastard.

But you... You never bloody phone.

I'm on my own here.
Apart from Jack, I've nobody.

Did you know that Jack took me with him
to Canada a few weeks back?

- Canada?
- See? You didn't know that, did you?

- No.
- No.

And did it ever occur to you
that I might be missing you?

I mean, all this...

I'm sorry.

I'm missing you.

- What like was Canada?
- Smashing.

Aye. Ho! They love their grub.
Full of big fatties.

How does this sound, eh?

We'll all come over this summer,
spend some time together.

- Aye, aye...
- No, no. We'll come over.

I'll book it
when I get back to the house.

I mean it. I'll no' let you down.

- Really?
- Aye.

You guys all right, are you?

Aye, aye. Aye.
I've said my sorries, Jack. Aye.

Aye, we're good. Ain't that right, John?

Brand-new, Dad.

Aye. Glad to hear it.

Jack! You're back on the pipe!

Aye, I know. Well, there's a hell of a lot
going on, you know?

So John's coming over this summer
with the family.

- Are you?
- I am indeed.

- (Jack) That'll be smashing.
- (John laughs)

- What are you laughing at?
- I can't wait to see their faces

when I tell them we're not going to
Disneyworld, we're going to Craiglang.

(Victor) Disneyworld... The council's
just repainted the swings in the park.

Aye. I'll buy a nice ball oot o' Navid's.

There's a new Greig's
open in the high street.

(AII mutter)

Ha. So John busted you
right there in The Clansman?

- Aye.
- That's a shame. I'm sorry I missed that.

- Some state of affairs, isn't it, Winston?
- Pish.

The way I see it, I've been lucky.

It could have been my lungs. I was
doing fags a day, Senior Service too.

No arsing about with your poofy Silkies.

It's funny, that, in't it?

You never think when you're lighting up

that one day
they might hack a limb off you,

but that's what's happened.

- What's been happening with you?
- Jack's back on the pipe.

Oh, good. Aye.
Hard to imagine you without it.

The guy in the bed
at the end of the ward...

- Wants to buy my slippers.
- Oh, you heard, aye?

Aye. Frae every arsehole on the ward.

Right, well, we'll away
and let you get your rest, Winston.

Aye, let me get a rest.

(Bed wheels scrape)

(Doctor) Here you are, sweetheart.

(Doctor)
There's a bit of company for you.

Bloody snoop! Is that you?
What are you doing in here?

- Never mind that. Wait till I tell you...
- Nurse... Nurse...