01x02 - Oil

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "The Young Ones". Aired: 9 November 1982 – 19 June 1984.*
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Follows the lives of four undergraduate students who share a house in squalid condition while attending their studies at the fictional Scumbag College, London.
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01x02 - Oil

Post by bunniefuu »

♪ Once in every lifetime

♪ Comes a love like this

♪ I need you, you need me

♪ Oh, my darling, can't you see?

♪ Darling, we're the Young Ones

♪ The Young Ones

♪ (RICK) Shouldn't be afraid

♪ To live

♪ Love

♪ There's a song to be sung

♪ 'Cause we may not be the Young Ones

♪ Very long... ♪

(RICK) Oh, bloody heck! Is this the new house?

(NEIL) I think it's beautiful.

(MIKE) Makes a change from the old one.

(VYVYAN) It's not razed to the ground.

(RICK) It looks like a gigantic lavatory!

Be fair. It's got a letterbox.
That'll come in really useful.

(RICK) What for?

- Looking out of when people knock.
- Nice front door.

- We had one in the last house.
- But it was nailed to the ceiling!

- It had to be done.
- Yeah, I had to...I was drunk.

Just give me the key.

Now, watch this very closely.

You see? I used to be a cat burglar.

I didn't know that.

Yeah, I've got a Swiss bank account
with , cats in it! Come on!

- More bloody students!
- Shut up and put some clothes on!

Wow, look at all these letters!

Mr Balowski said the last lot
only moved out yesterday.

- They did. They were illiterate.
- They were philosophy students.

So?

Anyway, they're probably bills.

Who's Bill?

- This is my bedroom!
- Oh, yeah?

I was here first!

- Got any witnesses?
- I don't need any. Get out!

No!

Get...out!

This must be my bedroom -
all my clothes are here.

No, they're not, Vyvyan.

- Right, have the bedroom!
- It's not mine.

- Yes, it is.
- It isn't.

- You said it was yours.
- So did you.

- I didn't.
- Did!

- Didn't!
- Did!

Didn't, didn't, didn't, didn't!

Neil, your bedroom's on fire!

I thought this was my bedroom.

Oh, no!

- This is my bedroom!
- Caption.

Thank you.

(GIRL ON TAPE) Oh, MikeI Oh, no, don"t stopI

Oh, oh, yeahI Oh, yeahI

Hi, kid.

- You're Buddy Holly.
- That's right!

You know, I just love your English beetles.

After years of the suckers,
I ain't got much choice.

- I thought you were dead.
- It ain't harmed my career any!

No, oh, no... You got any new material?

It just so happens I've been writing
a song up here, concerning my diet,

called ''Coo, Coo, Daddy Longlegs''. Wanna hear it?

- Oh, yeah!
- Right now?

There's no point hanging around.

♪ Saturday night hanging around for a bite

♪ Find a real cutey with the dustmite blues... ♪

Records and tapes.

Videos.

Overseas sales.

Cable TV.

Plus % McCartney, % me.

There's gotta be million in this.

♪ Cranefly pie with a mosquito side salad

♪ years on a meat-free diet

♪ Beetles, crickets gonna get you sickies

♪ Here's a little sucker
and you ought to try it

♪ Coo, coo, Daddy Longlegs

♪ Hope it makes more money than ''Peggy Sue''

♪ Ha, ha, ha... ♪

Aaaargh!

I'll get a few quid on the guitar.

Lucky they told me my room was on fire.
I might've gone to sleep and b*rned to death.

Not that I sleep much anyway,
'cause I spend my time in the kitchen.

Hello, kitchen, hello!

My name's Neil.

Don't bother remembering it,
'cause I'll be dead soon anyway.

Great!

The only thing left is the teapot, and that's filthy.

Thanks, Mr Balowski,
for the oldest, dirtiest teapot in the world!

Oh, wow!

Just look at all this mess.

I wish, just once, just once,
this wouldn't happen to me.

Oh...yeah...

That's very Zen.

Hi, Neil.

Is this some sort of sick joke?
Why isn't supper ready?

- You haven't done a thing!
- Sorry, Vyvyan.

Considering none of you helped me
unpack or do anything,

and considering I'm not feeling
very well today actually,

no, it's not ready.

I haven't got six pairs of hands.
I wish I had, but I haven't.

Oh, wow, I have!

Yes...yeah!

Yeah, of course. Yeah!

I've got six pairs of hands! Look, it's amazing!

Neil, where's that emergency tin
of spaghetti hoops we brought?

Rick, Rick! You're gonna freak, man!

You haven't even made the tea, Neil!

Neil?

Brilliant! I'll have to make my own bloody tea!

Rick, come and look at this! You're gonna freak!

(GENIE) Aaargh!

I've got six pairs of hands! I'm Krishna!

Dear, oh, dear. You'd do anything to impress me.

Where's Vyvyan?

Vyvyan!

There you are, Vyvyan.

- Could I have a word with you?
- No.

Just a little piece of information.

Why did you throw the toilet
out of the window?

- To lower the rent.
- Yes, of course. Stupid old me!

Just one other thing. What are you talking about?

Now we can go to the rent tribunal.
You pay less for an outside lavvy.

Really? Well, I don't believe you.

You did it on purpose
'cause you know I've a runny bottom.

Is Neil gonna make the supper or not?

You better ask him that!
I'm a bit more interested in my bottom!

Neil! Neil! Let's not b*at about the bush...

Will you make supper,
or shall I kick your teeth in?

- Where you going with that sack?
- Nowhere.

- Is that your dirty washing?
- No!

We should take all our washing
when we go to the launderette.

What about the People's Charter we drew up?

Right, laundry...

Right...

''None of the guys, no matter what,

''not even if they've been eaten by wild dogs...''

That's my clause!

''..shall go to the launderette,
without collecting everyone's gear.''

Clause .

- ''Except for Mike.'' Sorry.
- That's all right.

I'm not going to the launderette,
I'm going to the cellar...with a stiff.

Know what I mean?

Well, that's fair enough, then.

He gets worse by the minute.

At least he's not doing the washing.

Neil, I'll give you three seconds
to make supper, starting now!

Three seconds?

One!

Two!

- What do you fancy, Vyv?
- Three! Where's my supper?

It's not quite finished yet, actually...

That's right, Neil, yes!
Lounge around, have a good time!

While we starve to death! Beatnik!

And you've broken my favourite plate!

Suppose we'll have to cook our own supper.

- What was that?
- What?

Nothing.

My mind's beginning to play tricks with me.

I thought we were lying on a raft just now.

You should take it easy.

You must be working too hard.

- Bloody hot, isn't it?
- It is.

Should get a lower wattage bulb.

Help! We're sinking! We're sinking!

Relax. We're not sinking. We're not sinking.

I'll get some fresh air in here.

(SEAGULLS SCREECHING)

Oh, that's better.

Er...?

What's the matter?

Nothing, nothing.

Can you swim at all?

What?!

- I was just wondering.
- Wondering?

I wondered if you'd swim to the chemists

and get me something for my hallucinations.

Have you had one, too?

Either that or the whole town has flooded.

No...

You're right, we've been working too hard.

I haven't had a holiday for over a year.

What about this?

You what?

This, a holiday?

Two weeks in a cellar under a lightbulb?!

- Well, it was all I could get.
- All you could get!

- Do me a favour!
- What?

Check and see if that really
was an hallucination outside.

How'd you get here?

You'd have to ask my parents,
they wouldn't tell me.

Would you mind looking after my buddy?

All right, so it was a bad joke.
But then death isn't funny!

This is revolting!

It's amazing what you can come up with
with just flour and water.

Yeah...glue!

What is that little white dot?

It's a little white dot.

Oh, very clever!

Must be a really old telly.

What, hippie?

Look, it's a sign, that little white dot.

It means something really heavy.

It means there's no more telly.

It's time to go to bed.

I'm going upstairs now
to finish my astrological star chart.

Has anyone ever been even slightly interested

in anything you ever say or do, Neil?

Fascist!

Oh... Are you going to bed, Vyvyan?

No. I'm gonna watch the dot for a bit longer.

Wish we had a video,
then I could watch it in the morning.

Oh, well. Nightie-night!

(ANNOUNCER)
And don"t forget to unplug your set.

- Why?
(ANNOUNCER) "Cause it"ll blow up.

Great!

It's never gonna blow up.

I think I'll play ''m*rder in the Dark''.

(BANGING AND CRASHING)

I could've made a fortune if I'd turned pro.

But for me, it's the sport that matters.

- Neil, can you throw my ball back?
- Oh...OK.

(WINDOW SMASHING)

Howzat?!

Aaargh!

Aaargh!

Aaargh! Who's been using my toothpaste?

Vyv was typing and used it as Tippex.

Bastard!

- Why are you outside my room?
- There's only the floor to sit on.

Very funny! It's clever to laugh
when three million people are on the dole?

Yeah.

Move away, I want to get in my room.

- You're not dressed for it.
- What?

All right, I won't stand on convention.

- That'll be a fiver for the room.
- £ to get in my own room?!

What, have you turned it into a roller disco?

Uncanny!

Look, do you mind all just going, please?

Sorry to be a party pooper,
but I want get undressed.

Look, man. Either strut your stuff or bog off!

Right! This is it!

Everybody listen to me!

Watch it! Watch it!

Sorry, guv'nor. Apples and pears, tit for tat!

And I was at Violet's funeral.

This little Herbert has been
bothering the gentlemen and ladies,

whilst they were shaking
their booties, know what I mean?

Gentle, Slobber, I don't want
the punters getting upset.

Mike, you bastard!

(NEIL) Next time,
throw the paper out, too, Vyvyan!

- Neil, help!
- I can't, Rick.

Because now is the time to finish
painting my astrological chart.

That'll do, Slobber. That'll do.

I'm sorry. If I was to make
an exception, who'd respect me then?

I'm going to call the pigs, actually.
See what they'll say.

Wise up, Rick, this world is like a burnt steak.

Small, tough and the chips
are always stacked against you.

You're always so pleased
with yourself! So bloody clever!

Yeah. I've arranged for you
to share Neil's bedroom.

What?! I'm not sharing a room
with that rubber johnny!

All right, Neil, shut up.

I tossed a coin for the bed, and you lost!

Completely fair, ask Mike. So shut up!

OK, Rick.

What? What did you just say?

- You just called me a bastard.
- No.

You better not, 'cause me, Mike
and Vyvyan are pretty sick of you.

Urgh! Why are your sheets all sticky?

- It's probably just the red paint.
- But... Aaargh!

OK, Neil?

It may seem heavy-handed for £.,
but I expect to get my loans back.

(VYVYAN) I've struck oil! We're gonna
be rich! I found oil in the cellar.

- For heaven's sake!
- Easy, easy!

Spill the beans, Vyv.

It's very simple. I was playing
''m*rder in the Dark'' in the cellar.

I was getting bored, so I thought,
''I'll cr*ck the floor with my head.''

Then, this huge spurt of oil came out.

This could be very big. Family-size.

- Tonight we sleep on it.
- What? All four on one spurt?

We're gonna be rich. House meeting,
tomorrow, o'clock, broom cupboard.

Neil? I want that £. by Wednesday
or another moose dies.

Dear me, Mum. I know our job
is to serve the young gentlemen.

But I'm sure young Master Neil do treat us rough.

So he should, Lucy, for we love it.

The complete negation of our personality,

the mind-numbing servility and the -hour day,

and we expect no reward
but a staircase over our heads.

Oh, dear, yes, Lucy. We love it.

The personal abuse is our lot,
and the further back you go, the better.

Now, everyone, the masters are coming to b*at us.

Not a peep out of you,
or you'll have me to answer to!

Tsk!

Strange that Mike wants a meeting
in here. I've never been here before.

That's because this is where
we keep the cleaning stuff.

No, it's because we only moved in here yesterday!

I'm surprised anyone except me
knows this place even exists.

Because although to you lot I seem
to have as much importance as...

Erm... As a...?

- A hippie!
- A hippie.

- It's me that does all the cleaning.
- Moan, moan, boring!

Just because you do a little bit of housework!

What? A little bit? All right...

- House meeting.
- This IS a house meeting!

That's what I'm saying. Is it?
Where's Mike and Vyvyan?

Late! We're only on time because
you kept me awake all night ringing bells.

Listen, man, sleep gives you cancer.
Everyone knows that.

Listen, do you know the difference
between you and some Number Twos?

Nothing!

- Oh, stop crying!
- I've got dust in my sinuses.

That'll teach you to stop skiving
on the cleaning!

- Oh, no...
- What?

- I'm gonna sneeze.
- Neil, no!

- I am. I always do.
- No!

Sorry about that, it always happens.

Here they are, El Presidente!

Stop the insurgence!

I'll teach you to try
and assassinate the President.

El Presidente!

- What the ruddy heck is going on?
- Shut your face, traitor.

Ha! Missed both my legs!

Shut up!

Who's been sticking
chewing gum on the floor?

- Silence.
- Silence!

- Gentlemen, good morning.
- Good morning.

Glad you all made it,
'cause if not, you wouldn't be here.

- Why were you in the broom cupboard?
- Good question!

For a house meeting.

- Impossible.
- Impossible!

Because Colonel Vyvyan and I
had a house meeting minutes ago.

I'm afraid, under the new regulations,

non-attendance is punishable by death.

Ha-ha-ha! Death!

I'd overlook this,
but unfortunately you are responsible

for certain other criminal activity.

- Namely loitering with intent...
- Good one!

..conspiring in the broom cupboard...

Brilliant!

..damaging police equipment.

However, I, El Presidente...

Viva El Presidente!

I'm prepared to offer a free amnesty,
if you behave

and go down to the cellar and dig up the oil.

Fascist junta!

You do want to be incredibly rich, don't you?

Yes, but why can't you dig as well?

- That is fab, Rick.
- Fab!

So what do I say to the Saudis?

''Hello, King Faud, I've got a sample
of oil for you...all over my shirt.

''You wouldn't have a tin of Swarfega
about the palace, your mightiness?''

Wise up, he'd chop my hands off!

Don't say that about the Arabs,
you'll get us into trouble.

Your magnificence.

The British Foreign Secretary has arrived,

to offer his apology for recent press criticism

of our alleged cruelty.

I will see him now.

Which bit of him would you like to see first?

(BONE SPLINTERS)
Sorry, Vyv.

That's OK, Neil.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

You all right, Vyvyan?

Vyvyan?

Great!

This is it! I've waited two hours.

- It's a revolution!
- What do you mean, revolution?

Revolution, blood runs, flags wave.

Throw down your tools and throw up a barricade!

Come on, run into
the Winter Palace... Winter Palace,

and stand on tables
waving bits of paper at each other.

- Yes!
- Yes!

''Are you the Tsar?'' ''Yes, I am, actually.''

BANG! BANG! ''Tough luck, fascist!''

''That's what happens to people
who aren't working class.''

Yes, yes, Neil. Listen, I've got everything ready.

In ten minutes, there'll be
a rock 'n' roll benefit in our room.

Right at the climax, the oppressed
working classes of this house,

that's you, mainly,

will rise up and seize control of the state.

Brilliant! Revolution!

Watch out, Norman Tebbitt! Come on!

Aaargh! Urgh!

- I wish they wouldn't do that.
- It's passage of time, Rick.

Who are you? I wanna watch ''Postman Pat''.

The band, ''Radical Posture''.

And my name's Alexei Yuri Gagarin
Siege of Stalingrad

Glorious Five-Year Plan Sputnik Tractor

Moscow Dynamo Back Four Balowski.

Dad was a bit of a communist, know what I mean?

You're the spitting image of our landlord, Jerzei.

Yeah, he's my uncle, actually.

That's incredible! You're as like as two peas.

I hate that expression. It's so patronising.

Yes.

It's the sort of vegetablist comment
you'd expect from a dictator.

Well, this is it. The rock 'n' roll
benefit for the oppressed workers...

Hi, Mike... What are you doing here?

Never mind me, who are they?

Oh, blimey!

Search me. Perhaps they're friends
who've just popped in to...

..play a rehearsal or something.

- Want to go and lie down?
- I think I'd better.

Great!

Hi, Sputnik.

Or can I call you ''Comrade''?

You know the plan? At the peak of the gig...

..you incite the masses,
and we burn the Reichstag.

We burn Mike's room, anyway.
And then, hey, presto! Revolution!

Stuff the revolution, where's my quid?

Er...yeah.

I better sell some tickets, hadn't I?

Ha-ha!

Tickets!

Anybody?

Probably stuck in a queue or something!

Neil...did you actually pay to get in?

No, I'm the oppressed workers, remember?

Yes, but this is a benefit gig.

The tickets are £ each.

£? That's nearly a term's grant.

This benefit is for you. In aid of you. To help you.

And you won't even pay for it.
How self-centred! £!

I've only got p.

That'll have to do.

It better be good, this Norman Tebbitt.

Whoa! OK, yeah.
Great to be here at this benefit!

Whoa! Yeah!

I'm feeling really, whoa! OK, yeah.
You feeling OK, right!

Whoa! All right, yeah!

This is funky,
like one big empty room here, yeah!

Whoa! All right! OK!

We're gonna do a number recently
in the charts about racial harmony.

About black and white people living
in harmony together on pianos!

I might be a bit stupid, like,

but I know that pianos aren't gonna
solve nothing, know what I mean?

One thing unites us,
that we all have in common,

what is it, that one thing?

♪ It's not class or ideology
Colour, creed or roots

♪ The only thing that unites us
Is Dr Marten's boots

♪ Dr Marten gave boots to the world
So that everybody could be free

♪ They're classless, matchless
Waterproof and retail for only £.

♪ Soon everyone'll be wearing
Those boots with the airflow soles

♪ Your boots will have a meeting
And your boots will take control

♪ Thanks to Dr Marten
Everybody moves to one b*at

♪ Thanks to Dr Marten
They'll be dancing in the street

♪ Now, don't you want me?

♪ OK, boots, do your stuff

♪ Dr Marten's, Dr Marten's,
Dr Marten's boots

♪ Dr Marten's, Dr Marten's,
Dr Marten's boots

♪ Dr Marten's, Dr Marten's,
Dr Marten's boots! ♪

Boring! Don't you has-beens read the NME?

What happened to the revolution?

God! You'd think ''Devil Woman''
had never been written!

What are you two doing?
You should be digging for oil.

You realise all this loafing around
has cost us one day of being rich.

What?

Goodness! Is that the time?

By the way, it was a complete lie about the oil.
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