01x05 - The iPhone, the Bitch and the Wardrobe

[bunniefuu]

Higher, Germaine!

Snack me.

Oh, no. I'm not having this.

Mom?

You lot are getting weird. You need to socialise.

We do socialise, constantly. We're socialising right now. Look.

I don't mean your brothers and sisters, Germaine.

Lying on top of someone does not count as socialising with them.

I'm talking strangers. The outside world.

Them bastards. You never socialise.

Bollocks. I've done my stint. How do you think I ended up with you lot?

I didn't parthenogenetically reproduce, Aretha. I'm not a fricking aphid.

Your Uncle Natie's having a party later, and you're all going.

Oh, what? Natie? But he's so depressing.

He's always listening to Sting and looking out the window.

Yeah, he's in a frigging state.

So would you be if your wife left you for a Bargain Hunt contestant, Germaine.

He doesn't need you taking the piss on his birthday.

And I'm gonna make sure of that, because you know what? I'm coming too.

Yeah, I'm frigging coming too, and I'm gonna drink white wine, and make conversation with people about parking zones and bin days, and prove to you lot that socialising is important and fun.

Are you happy now? I repeat, are you happy now?

I'm looking forward to this.

When it comes down to it, I am a people person. That's just how I am.

Like Oprah. Jason Manford. Eamonn Holmes.

I think people might disagree with that assertion.

Apart from taking the bin out, I haven't left the house since the bluetit chicks were born on Springwatch.

They've fledged and been predated since then, Yoko. All dead.

The chicks are dead? Yep.

You really need to get out more.

You guys won't leave me on my own at this party, will you?

What if I get lost or someone tests me on maths?

Don't worry, Yoko.

We can sit together in a corner whilst I misanthropically judge people.

Hey, Aretha.

What if you met another misanthropist tonight? A sexy misanthropist.

Like, um... I don't know. Who's a sexy misanthropist?

Will Self? Like Will Self.

And you got married. Then, instead of Miss Anthropist, you'd be Mrs Anthropist.

No. I would be Mrs Self, cos I would be married to Will Self.

This is great banter.

This is exactly the kind of banter we should be having at the party, you know, like on Mock The Week, riffing back and forth in a cheeky way like, um... Russell Howard and that woman they have on there sometimes.

Right, that's Cher down for her nap. You got everything you need, Dad?

Aye, I'm all set up.

Fray Bentos in the oven, massive Toblerone in the fridge, MasterChef on the laptop.

We're gonna have a cracking time, aren't we, kids?

Yeah, Grampy!

Aren't we, young Mariah? What's up with her?

Mariah here wants to watch In The Night Garden.

But you know how I feel about the Ninky Nonk, Della.

No can do. I just don't like the thing.

Stick to your g*ns, Dad. She'll give you demon eyes, but she can't hurt you.

She's only just got it together to wipe her own arse.

Oh, it's no problem, Del.

I can deal with a tiny woman sneering at me while I eat my tea.

I'm coming up on 40 years with your mother.

Well, there's Calpol in the bathroom cabinet, if it all gets too much and you just want to dose her sippy cup.

Now, you give Natie my best.

Tell him his dad says to open to the pain. There's comfort in the darkness, Del.

No, Dad. I won't.

I'll say nothing more provocative than my opinions on speed traps, keep him off the spirits and say absolutely nothing about Shirley's massive new boyfriend.

Right, then, Grampy's a bit hazy about the old child development stages.

Are either of you old enough to make Grampy a cup of tea?

I've seen enough frat-house movies to know the drill here.

First, we need to fill a melon with vodka.

Good luck getting hold of a melon on a Sunday in Penn, Germaine.

cr*ck? Yes. Fruit? No.

Thanks, Captain Comedown.

I'm scared, Mom.

You're just a tiny bit shy, Yoko.

It's part of why you're so frigging cool.

But don't worry. Your sisters are going to look after you, aren't you?

Chill out, Mom. I'm sensitive to the mood in a room.

I'm a human mood ring. Today I'm blue, caring.

Here, Yoko, take this. If it all gets too much, call me on that.

And, Aretha, I want you to talk to someone tonight.

Find me someone with five GCSEs...

..grade A-C, and I'll chat.

Hey, Yoko, here's a tip for social anxiety.

If you're scared of people, just imagine them naked.

Imagine the room full of naked people.

All their boobies and wangers, all hanging there.

See? Bet you feel better.

Del. You came.

I knew you would. I had faith in you.

Oh, wind it in, Natie. It's barely ten past four.

All right, gorgeous?

Hi, Cathy.

Hiya. Hiya.

So, this is the kids' bit of the party.

These are my cousins. They don't go to school.

I think that's why they dress like that.

These are my dad's mate's kids.

I only met 'em today, but they're all right by me.

What's going on? Where's the music? The beer in red cups?

The cutting-edge chat?

This looks like a call centre.

We're gaming, Germaine. It's a gaming party.

My dad bought me that console last week.

I actually wanted a guitar, but he was too busy crying and hacking into Mom's e-mail account to listen.

Gaming party? This is no party.

This is an office environment.

Shh! I'm fighting a ghoul here.

It's a gaming party, Germaine. Get with the programme.

The computer programme.

You have good basic humour.

I'm Louise.

I'm Aretha. This is Yoko.

I'm shy. Me too.

Here, have a prop. Helps to keep your hands busy.

Thanks.

It's so great to hang with some fellow geeks.

We're society's outsiders, aren't we?

Ostracised by the norms, for loving Google Docs and coding too hard.

So, er... let's bond. Ask me a question, anything you like.

Are you someone's drunk mom?

Here, I brought you a bin.

Thought you might need one.

Happy birthday.

Thanks, Del.

I'm on the up at last.

I've been dressed all week.

No bathrobe after Homes Under The Hammer. That's my new rule.

Good lad.

All right?

Both: All right?

So, what are you lot talking about out here, then?

Parking zones. Course, big topic.

Wine, please.

Ooh, he's made an error there. What doesn't Gregg like, kiddies?

Lobster foam, Grampy.

Gregg doesn't like foams.

Dead right, Wyatt.

Someone's going straight back to being a management consultant.

I don't like it, Grampy.

Give it a chance, kiddo.

Think of Gregg as being like a little pixie man.

You know, doing a little... dance.

♪ Diddly-diddly-dee-dee, diddly-diddly-dee ♪
♪ I'm a little pixie... ♪

Christ, your nan's genes are strong.

Will you hurry up and choose a name for your character, please, Germaine?

Just choose a name, Germaine.

Fine! There, I'll call him Elizabeth Taylor. Happy?

That's my default name. Elizabeth Taylor, my hair brush.

Elizabeth Taylor, my left breast.

Stop talking!

GAME CHARACTER SCREAMS Oh, no! Elizabeth Taylor's fallen into a chasm.

What character did you go for, Aretha?

Assassin.

I'm an assassin, too.

Both: I enjoy k*lling from the shadows.

Warning. Incoming ghoul, five o'clock.

No way, man.

Yoko just totalled that ghoul.

Incredible. She used a level-nine power move.

How did you do that, Yoko?

What did I do? Was it bad?

Amazing move, Yoko.

That's not a begonia.

That's a geranium.

I think you'll find it's a begonia, Lenny.

I think you'll find it's a geranium, Ro.

That takes me back.

Me and Shirley had that exact same argument in Homebase when we bought that plant.

Come on, Nate, it's your birthday.

Let's not get all Shadowlands.

Do you want a hand getting that grill lit?

No. I will do this. I will.

I'm the master of my own destiny, Shirley.

Della. I'm the master of my own destiny, Della.

Scallops and pureed peas?

Scallops and pureed peas?

Did you learn nothing from Michel Roux Jr?

You've let yourself down, Jason. Cook better, Jason!

Fine dining has evolved way past scallops and pureed peas, Mariah.

Huh! This... this Jason character is a right chancer.

Another level-16 mage defeated by Yoko. This is unprecedented.

Aretha! Behind you.

Oh! I would high-five you, but I eschew physical contact.

I'd high-five you, too, but my hands are sweaty.

You know, if you ever wanted to come out, I'd be very supportive.

I'm trying to k*ll a fell beast, Germaine.

Seriously, though, Aretha.

If it looks like you're turning out to be gay, I want you to promise you'll tell me first.

♪ If you're coming out ♪
♪ I want the me to know ♪
♪ Got to let it show... ♪

Germaine.

Do you want me to help you out with that chasm problem?

I... Hey, man!

I've dreamt of that moment.

Germaine?

Seeing as you're dead, why don't you go get the door?

Yeah, Germaine, go on.

Be a sweetheart.

Oh, I see, the geeks.

Turning on me.

Just because I got stuck in a chasm and think Doctor Who is overrated.

Lee! No way!

It's the Gruffalo. Let me in.

Seems I get to decide if you come in or not.

I am the gatekeeper.

The gay keeper? Is that Rhind?

Let him in, Germaine.

Overruled!

So, you think you're some sort of gardener now, do you, Monty Don?

Well, you don't know anything about our garden.

Right. I'm sorry, Natie. I'm going to have to stage an intervention on this barbecue.

You sit down.

Let's get that f*cking grill lit and get some food in Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? over there.

And what we really need is...

A sh*t-ton of lighter fuel?

That'll do it. You've incinerated the meatballs, though.

The meatballs are fine.

This tabard's heat-resistant.

I know a boss hack for this game.

They bounce when she runs, and everything.

They've done some proper physics on them. Boom!

Rhind, you knobber.

I was just thinking this game wasn't sexualised enough.

Sigh. This is a classic love triangle.

All I can see is a love line, Germaine, from there to there.

Hey, Elizabeth Taylor.

As you're not playing, do you wanna get the pop from the kitchen?

Oh, yes, please.

I'm really thirsty.

I don't want to go.

I'm not the butler.

Yoko needs fluids, you buffoon.

Fine, I'll go.

But I will say this, Jerry.

You may only be ten, but I don't like your attitude.

Touching your stuff, Cathy!

Whoops! Sorry, Cath-Cath!

Just in here.

So, this is my bedroom.

I wanted to do some graffiti on the walls but my dad's scared of the landlord.

This... is cool.

Oh, yeah.

Nice tabard.

Are you from the RAC?

Or is there a gas leak somewhere I don't know about?

I'm working later.

Gotta Bitumac the A42.

No-one's getting into Kegworth tomorrow without me.

Unless they take the bypass at Measham.

You know your roads.

There won't be satellite navigation when the food riots start.

We'll all be on foot then, heading to the feeding stations for a bowl of Cameron's gruel.

If there are feeding stations, of course.

There won't be feeding stations.

We'll be left to fight it out amongst ourselves.

Hand to hand. Man to man.

Tops off. Knives out.

My name's Michael, by the way.

Della. Pleased to meet you.

Do you mind if I whittle?

Whittle away.

Oh, here he is.

Here's the birthday boy.

Do you want a bucket, Nate?

Yoko! Yoko!

Yoko! Yoko! Yoko!

Yoko! Yoko! Yoko!

My bum is vibrating.

Why is my bum vibrating?

Is the Dread Lord doing that?

It's the phone, you noob!

Go on! Keep up with him!

Aretha, it's me. Cathy's locked me in her wardrobe.

Help. And hurry. I think I'm allergic to skimpy denim shorts.

Yoko is battling the Dread Lord!

I'm doing backup runes!

Aretha. I'm in a place with limited oxygen.

OK. But you'll have to wait.

Come on, Yoko!

Come on, Yoko! Finish him!

Come on, Yoko! Finish him!

Use the power move! It's just there!

All: Yeah!

You totalled the Dread Lord!

Yes, Yoko!

All hail the Dread Lord slayer!

It's over now, Yoko.

You can stop. He's dead.

Oh, thank God.

Young Mariah. Would you like a custard slice?

Maybe.

Are you really sad? No.

Give me half of that cake or I'm telling Grampy.

Here you go, kiddo.

I was going to have that as my special treat, but you can have it.

Now come and snuggle up with us, and watch Jason prepare his venison three ways.

OK.

That hornbeam needs a good, hard prune. I know.

Pity I didn't bring my chainsaw with me.

Oh. Got a chainsaw, have you?

Yeah. Big one. Interested in chainsaws, are you?

Mildly.

Well, I'll have to get it out for you some time.

You'll need protection, though. It's a powerful piece of equipment.

Think it might be his bedtime.

Tell you what. Let's put the Mitchell brothers away first, eh?

Fireman's lift in two, Natie. One.

Two.

Well... this is ironic.

You're trapped in the closet.

It's a wardrobe, Aretha. We're not in America. Let me out.

If I agree to let you out of the closet, do you agree to stop trying to let me out of the closet?

Seriously, Aretha. It's a wardrobe.

Will you stop writing, "Aretha, question mark," in the Radio Times next to any programme that has Clare Balding in it?

Very well.

And no more suggestions that I go on a walking holiday?

That's not even a lesbian thing.

I genuinely think you'd enjoy the Pennine Way.

But if my leisure activity suggestions are unwanted, then, fine, I shall desist.

Very well. You may come out of the closet.

Wardrobe.

I came out... of the wardrobe.

Poor twat.

Brogues aren't really a bed shoe.

And these cords will be really digging into him.

Take two of these in the morning, Natie. Mouth, not bum. OK?

Party's finished. Host's unconscious.

It's basically trespass if we stay.

Hope you've had fun, because it's over.

This is Michael. He's been helping me put your uncle to bed.

See you soon, guys.

Thanks for slaying the Dread Lord, Yokes.

Here's your phone back.

I made a call on it, but it should be covered by your call plan, which I imagine is generous.

Yeah, it is.

It's a bostin call plan.

Well, er... I'll be going, then.

You not leaving with us, Lee?

Nah.

I don't reckon.

We're gonna cr*ck open my dad's booze drawer, play Crash Bandicoot drunk.

See you, Germaine.

So, do you fancy going out for a drive some time?

Yeah. Go on.

Oh, and bring your chainsaw, if you've really got one.

Oh, I've got one, all right.

Della.

Now, that's how you socialise.

You deserve that trophy, Jason.

Nobody gave depth of flavour like you did.

Jason did the best cooking.

Yep.

Yep, he did the best cooking. He's been on a real journey, that one.

How did it go?

The power of MasterChef won her round in the end.

So, you didn't have to use the Calpol, then?

Not on the kids, no.

So, Aretha, do you think you're going to see Louise again?

As a friend, of course. I'm not suggesting anything about you co-owning a pug.

Why would I see her again?

I like her. So, I leave her alone, as a mark of my respect.

You're so weird, Aretha.

I fight for my love.

Like Cheryl Cole did, before she divorced her love and married another love.

By "fight for your love", do you mean spy on your love from a wardrobe?

Don't knock spying, Aretha.

I can see what Peeping Toms are on about.

It was so wrong, yet so arousing.

It was like bad up here, good down there.

I don't want to hear about either end, thank you.

Hey, Dread Lord slayer, put the light off, please.

Can I stop imagining all the boobies and wangers now?

I'm going home, Del. MasterChef always takes it out of me.

I need some quiet time to get my head together.

Ah! What's this?

Who's done this?

That'll be Mariah.

I gave her that custard slice in good faith, as a gesture of friendship.

I thought we were bonding, but I was just her patsy.

Bribes don't work on Mariah, Dad.

She respects firm boundaries, the naughty step...

..and Bob The Builder.

If that's your mom, tell her to get off my back.

I'll be home in time for Downton.

No, it's from that bloke I met at Natie's.

He's just sent me a picture of his massive tool.