05x03 - Episode 3

[bunniefuu]

Quiet today.

Quiet yesterday.
And the day before.

And you know why?

Cos we're not exactly
centre of the universe.

It's the centre of my universe.

We've been out here ten minutes,
and who's walked past?

We don't want them walking past, do we?
We want them walking in.

'Ey up, here comes Gastric.

Ooh, a sudden rush.
Can we handle it?

'Ey. If you are looking
for your Mini,

- it's just gone round that corner.
- It was supposed to stop here.

What about that, then?

If you're taking this thing for walkies,
shouldn't it be on a lead?

- Gastric, you're nearly a genius.
- I know. Tell Madge.

She's only just getting used
to you being an idiot.

Tell her that I'll always be there for her,
underneath.

You ought to get to bed earlier.

'Scuse me, it's my only free time.

I'd like to know what you get up to.

Er, once I am off these premises,
I am under my own control.

You know what happened
to that headstrong lad of

Mrs Winterton's, don't you?

He's going bald already.

I'm not losing any hair.

Well, I am wondering what you get up to.

Will you behave yourself?

Excuse me.

You wouldn't listen, would you?
You wouldn't splash for a new till.

You can't get rid of this till.

This till is the b*ating heart
of this establishment.

- It snaps your fingers off.
- Only because you are too slow.

Right.

What are you going to sell me
for me breakfast?

Well, I don't know. It depends.
What do you want?

I've a choice?
Usually, I get what you want to get rid of.

Properly translated, that means

that I steer the bargains your way?

- How's the Mini?
- Don't ask.

She never came home last night.

She got me up. Pitch-dark. "Get up.
Get up. See who's in garden."

- What were it?
- Gastric's Mini.

He lets it run everywhere.

Right, down to serious stuff.

Have you given any consideration to my idea?

Rock climbing?
Yeah. I thought...

"That sounds stupid."

That's cos you're overlooking
the power of the image.

Wait till our women see us
as ice cool on a sheer rock face.

The advantages on the domestic front
could be immeasurable.

You're overlooking how
it's going to wreck your throat,

screaming when you're
falling hundreds of feet.

We are rock men.
We laugh at risks like that.

Plus, where are we going to find
a mountain round here?

It'll never get to that point.

All we have to do is have our women
see us practising for it.

Once they realise we're serious,

they'll be pleading with us to pack it in.

They'll pull all their feminine
tricks to keep us at home.

Don't we have to be good at knots?

We can learn.

My grandmother used to knit
with four needles. It's in my DNA.

Hey.
She's ready for her first run.

"First"? It was worn out
when you bought it.

Why do you think the butcher was selling it?

Well, that was because he let

some flash salesman talk him
into buying a new machine.

Why do we want to be making
our own sausages, anyway?

Because we can keep
firmer control on our quality.

Nothing but the best goes into
an Arkwright sausage.

You don't have to lie to me.
I'm not a customer.

When word gets out, they'll come from
miles for a sausage they can trust.

Hey, I like that.
That could be our slogan, couldn't it?

"Arkwright's - the sausage you can trust."

Not if they're all covered in bits
of flaking metal from that old machine.

They won't be covered in "flaking metal",
because I've cleaned her up.

So, do you want to
come and see her in action?

I'll pass.

She doesn't look safe to me.

I don't know why you should think that.

She'll, er, smooth down.
You know, I'm just...

getting the feel for her.

Right...
Sorry.

There's something about some men.

Their eyes creep around your body.

They'd have a job getting through
that overcoat and your various layers.

It has been tried.

Well, he must have had exceptional nerve.

Well, I don't know why.
I'm always approachable.

You what? You get your face on,
you could freeze an oven.

- One no sugar. Which is that one?
- I can do playtime, you know.

I admit I went through three
husbands without losing a nightie,

but that was before the pill.

I take one sometimes for headaches.

How come you never got pregnant?

I didn't like him enough.

Well, that's not usually sufficient.

It worked for me.

Leroy?
Attention, please.

Doff your cap, bow your knee
and squint your eyes

for the exclusive Arkwright sausage.

The sausage you can trust.

- Should've called the press.
- I did, but they said they were busy.

- Are you ready?
- Yeah.

Da-dah.

Yes.

I'll give you one thing,
they'll certainly recognise

an Arkwright sausage, won't they?

Sit down while I get us all a drink.

Sounds good.

Er, no, thank you.
We're in training.

But, no, thank you.
We're in training...

Training?

Aye, well, you've got to keep a clear head.

You can't go diving into high-risk sports

without some sort of self-discipline.

Excuse me, this was not something

that was in your original prospectus.

Erm, not wishing to twist your arm, but...

are we drinking or not?

I intend to have one.

Aye, go on, then.

- Just a small one, mind.
- Better. I like the new thinking.

Did I hear "high-risk sports"?

Rock climbing.

- Well, done properly, is it so dangerous?
- As compared to what?

Escorting Mrs Featherstone.

Feeling the full force of that creature.

I think in some previous incarnation
she was a double-decker bus.

There's no comparison.

I mean, come on, we're feet up,
hanging on by our fingers.

Excuse me, that also was not
in the job description.

I know.
But I live these things.

I feel the moment.

You're not looking at Eric,
you are looking at Rock Man.

Make that last.

What?

Tell her.

You tell her.
He's your best friend.

- It's your boyfriend she's in love with.
- She thinks she is.

And if you're so sure Gerald's my
boyfriend, what am I doing with you?

- Well, I was wondering that.
- It's complicated.

You know what Gerald's like.

- Yeah, he's gorgeous.
- He's an eight.

Maybe a seven-plus.
He's not gorgeous.

Five.
He's a five.

You've never even met him.
Who asked you?

I thought it was time for
a clear, unbiased opinion.

He is better than a five.
I haven't wasted years on a five.

- How can you say they're wasted? He's lovely.
- Four-and-a-half.

- Shut up.
- I'm still single.

You know he's going to marry you.

- I used to think so.
- Well, he's been busy.

- Maybe YOU should marry him.
- I wish.

- Go for it.
- Shut up.

_

- "Free form sausages"?
- They're all shapes.

Only at Arkwright's.

Why's your Eric wearing a hard hat?

- You've seen my Eric wearing a hard hat?
- Just now.

- I didn't recognise him at first.
- Well, I wouldn't have done, either.

Well, I expect there'll be
a perfectly simple explanation.

With Eric, nothing's perfectly simple.

You'll get an Eric explanation.

But that usually has very little
to do with making any sense.

Ruby, you're wasting your time with Gerald.
You know you are.

You need to meet more people.

- You mean men.
- Well, if you're looking for romance,

it might be a good idea.

- Who said I'm looking for?
- You are.

You're full of love to give,
and it's nowhere to go.

But listen, Ruby, if you're going to meet new
people, you've got to stop hitting them.

- I do not hit everyone.
- You hit me.

Well, that's because you're obnoxious.

- I'm not good at meeting new people.
- We'll help you.

- We'll start by going out as a foursome.
- No, it's not my thing.

What is your thing?

Cos if you're looking for romance, arm
wrestling is probably not going to be enough.

- Do you know...
- See?

Did you want any sausages?

Not those sausages, no.

- Well, what else can I get you?
- Er...

I don't think there's anything, really.
Good day.

Er, what about a rare historical artefact?

- You've got rare historicalartefacts?
- Well, yes.

I mean, they do come a shopkeeper's way
from time to time.

What sort of price range are we talking?

Well, they're not as expensive
as you might think.

I'd like a look.

Well, we'll see what
we've got left, shall we?

Yes, now, let me have a little look.

It's just...

Probably, you know...
Difficulty...

Just, er... It's...
Got to get it... Erm...

It's a much...

Here it is.

Here we are.

There.
There we go.

d*ck Turpin's boot.

The famous highwayman?

I'd look pretty silly here, wouldn't I, sir,

if it belonged to some other d*ck?

Well, er...

Wouldn't it be a riding boot?
I mean, this is just a...

Not just a boot, sir.

No, this is his casual wear, you see?

For on his days off.

He wouldn't be riding his horse
round the house, would he?

- Well, I'd need to see some proof.
- Of course.

Fortunately, he did sign it
personally on the inside.

"d*ck Turpin.

"His boot."

In his own neat hand.

In Biro.

Yes, but, you see, he was
well ahead of his time.

Good day, sir.

Good day.

What about one of Gandhi's flip-flops?

Flip-flops.

It's only me.
Are you decent?

No, I'm not decent.

And what I'm feeling is murderous.

There you are.

What are you ironing?

Ooh, my goodness,
we could both get in there.

Not that it's in my imminent plans.

I like to be comfortable.
I don't like constricted clothing.

Well, you've certainly
cracked it with those.

If one's underwear sends a message,

mine would be about not going wild.

Bless you for that.

And you'll get your reward
when the time is right.

Please don't hurry on my account.

Now...

I want you...

to hang these...

on your washing line.

They belonged to my second husband.
He had ideas above his station.

Well, suppose someone sees them.

But that's the point.

I don't want people to think
that my quality time is a blank.

I want them to see them

and speculate how far we've got
down the road to rapture.

I love it when you just
stand there looking lost.

I've forgotten what I came in for.

Well, I hope it was me...

because I've got this urge,
you know, to adopt you?

- Can I ask...
- Anything. A-ny-thing.

Go ahead.

Why have your sausages gone weird?

I'd like to keep that as our secret.

- Madge was asking.
- Right.

Well, you can tell Madge
that I'm trying to raise the taste

of my customer base.
Now, I've always provided quality.

Now they're getting artistic as well?

- You'll have to write that down for me.
- Right.

What have you got for a midlife crisis?

I'm sure we'll find something.
Do come in.

- I thought they were for men.
- Well, they are for men.

Nobody else has the time.
It's Eric's crisis, not mine.

- Didn't he have one last week?
- Probably.

They do say, you know,
trying something new is good.

He'd better not.

No, I was thinking more
in terms of the latest in artistic

designer sausage.

He's been seen wearing a hard hat.

- Why does he need a hard hat?
- Exactly.

The most dangerous thing
he does at work is stapling.

I didn't know he was into horses.

No, stapling.
Not stabling.

- He's very allergic to horses.
- Is he?

You should have seen him
when he got on this donkey once.

There you go.
One pair of Leroy's self-drive shoes.

"Self-drive shoes"?

Well, they don't look any different.

Well, neither does my Mini from the outside.

- Well, how do they work?
- Er...

Electric insoles.
They'll take control of your feet.

Try 'em on.
Let's have a little road test.

All right.

The thing is, if they work,
it'll teach that Leroy to say I've

got no control over him outside the shop?

Be quiet.
She'll hear you.

Where do you think you're going?

We're, er...

- just going upstairs.
- Well, not in them boots you're not.

- Kath, we're in training.
- Yeah, you are.

And I'm doing the training.
Get 'em off.

This is embarrassing.

How do you think I feel?

People keep asking,
"Is that your Eric wearing a funny hat?"

And now you've turned him funny as well.

We're a team.
We're joined at the hip.

Yeah. He'd walk through fire
for me, as I would for him.

Well, you can walk through
all the fire you want,

but you're not going upstairs in them boots.

Stockinged feet don't fit the image.
Tell her.

It's your house.
You tell her.

I get enough troubles in me own place.

Does this look like my house?

She's standing there
like Attila-ette the Hun.

Kath, you can't scale the north face
in stockinged feet.

- Put your slippers on.
- I am.

What are you planning on
doing up there, anyway?

Practising our rope work.

We're going to lower each other

safely out of an upstairs window.

'Ang on.

What?

If ever there's a fire,
you'll be grateful for this.

If you scratch my paintwork,
there will be a fire.

Well, I'm not feeling anything different.

Well, I haven't taken control yet.

- Walk forward for a few yards, then turn left.
- Right.

OK, and we're going to turn left.

- There. Nothing.

Walk back towards me,
then try and turn left.

- I'm going to turn left.
- Left, yeah.

Turn left again.

All right, I'll...

Hey.
Hey, wait a minute.

Hey, hey. This is working.

- Well done, Gastric.
- I told you, I told you.

It works.
Right, OK, you can stop now.

I said you can stop.

Now listen, this is getting beyond a joke.

- Right. There we are, sir.
- What's this?

That is our latest designer sausage.

Yeah, I can see it's a sausage.
Well, almost.

But I asked for a book of stamps.

Let's look at it this way.
Think of new stamps.

Self-adhesive.

We don't lick them any more.

So we have lost all the benefits

we used to absorb through the gum.

Are you suggesting we need
a sausage with every stamp?

It replaces the missing vitamins.

You'd be surprised how much we owe
to the humble sausage.

Don't quote me, I'm just repeating
the wisdom of the Wananky people.

The Wananky people?

Yeah. We used to think
they were just naked savages.

Yeah, well, I don't see why
they were naked if they had a hankie.

No, "Wananky".
Not "one hankie".

Wananky people.
They didn't have a hankie.

If they did, they used to keep it
in the strangest of places.

What is it you say we owe to these people?

The wisdom of the sausage.

That is why they lived to .

- ?
- Yeah, most of 'em.

The rest lived to .

Here we go.

- It's quite a bit, isn't it?
- That's lovely.

I see Mr Newbold is flying
some racy new underwear these days.

Bless his heart. He took one look
at me and threw his old boxers away.

Er, don't worry about it.

They looked a bit small for him.

Maybe he was just airing them for a friend.

And guess which friend.

If that's mice, you've got some prime stock.

It's Eric and Cyril.
Just don't ask.

It's not as if they're morris dancing.
I don't hear any bells.

I do.
A couple of Tinker Bells.

I married that.

Have you seen Mr Newbold?

- Have you lost him?
- Well, I wouldn't say "lost" him.

- I expect he'll turn up.
- No, that's no good.

That's very loose and untidy.
I like to know where he is.

If I see him, I'll make sure
he knows you're looking for him.

No, don't say that.
He'll think I care.

Keep them guessing, that's the secret.

- Hello, Mavis.
- Hello, Granville.

I see I've just missed the Black Widow,
which isn't always easy.

She's lost Mr Newbold.

Well, we'd better find him,
then, and bring him back.

Don't be rotten.
Let him have a minute.

No, because if he's gone, she turns to me.

All right, then, be rotten.

- OK. Which way did he go?
- This way.

- Hey, looking good, kid.
- You too.

We look like we were born for this.

Well, we were.
I told you, it's in our DNA.

In yours.

I don't think my granny used to knit.

Did she weave?

Yeah.
She wove.

There it is, then.
We've got history.

Are you saying we're ready?

I'm saying we're ready.

OK.
Let's do it.

Right, come on.

Another?

I think another.
I'm not sure if me jaw was firm.

It's a tricky one, innit?
I mean, how much to smile?

You don't want a big, daft grin,
but you want...

Aye, I know what you mean.

Just a hint.
Relaxed...

and confident.

You're blocking the mountain.

Is that one of them new robots?

Only from the ankles down.
Upstairs, he's still a bit of a problem.

Been a funny day.

Sausages with bulging muscles.

The Arnie Schwarzenegger breakfast.

I quite enjoyed being in our Leroy's shoes.

He'll learn who's in control.

Still, I very nearly sold
d*ck Turpin's boot.

- Hello, Mavis.
- Hello, Granville.

- Look.
- We can send it for fish and chips.

Hey.
Does it know what we want?

It does now.

Hey, come on.