Episode 3 The Story of Tracy Beaker

# I can make my world come true All my dreams will see me through

# Doesn't matter what may come my way

# Believe me, now I will win some day. #

PLAYING A "TUNE"

-Come on!

-I can't. I'm hopeless.

-You aren't. I'll show you.

-Nice gum. Give us one.

-Sorry, can't. Won't have any left for myself.

-Delicious. Strawberry, my favourite.

-Oh, look, isn't that your dad?

..Hey, you, give that back!

It looked like him. It was only a bald, fat pig flying by.

Mm, strawberry, my total favourite.

-Give that back, Tracy!

-Come on, Lou.

Louise! No problem. Stay. Be late and get in trouble with HER.

Justine, wait!

Fine! See if I care!

Whoa, whoa! Hey!

Oh, Beaker. We meet again.

-Don't mash my place up.

-This is YOUR place?

-It's not all paid for yet, but I call it home.

-Cool.

-Bet these aren't paid for, either.

-I wouldn't like to say.

-Exactly.

-Plenty more where they came from.

-My mum lives on the edge, too.

We used to take whatever we wanted.

We were the very classiest of master-criminals.

No-one could outsmart us, though sometimes things got a little hairy.

ALARM BELLS RING

SIRENS WAIL

Even when the odds were impossible,

we'd always stick together.

-Are you all right?

-No. It's these flowers. It gets my hay fever.

-Right.

-Of course, things changed when she left to become a film star.

-Tracy...do you expect me to believe all that?

-Why should I care?

..And a big hello

-to you, too(!)

-Tracy Beaker's late.

-Five minutes? Hardly late.

-It's her turn to clean.

-I'll cheer you up.

Pizza. I'll do a Duke special.

..Look.

In black and white. Dining room, Thursday, Tracy Beaker.

-See?

-Back off her for a while.

-Can't we try and get on?

-Mice!

Duke, the rota.

I hate mice.

-Don't you live with your mum?

-Not at the moment. I'm in a big house.

-Like a stately home?

-No, a care home.

But it's not care and it's not home.

It's really strict. They have to fence us in.

-Electric fences?

-Ten zillion volts.

And the wire goes deep underground.

The inmates are desperate to get out.

-But there's no escape, thanks to the guard dogs.

-Guard dogs?

-Huge things.

-And their teeth...

-Do they bite?

No. They never even touch the sides.

-This I've got to see.

-You want to see my place?

-You've seen mine.

OK, why not?

Mouse patrol, this is war. Lock and load. Move out.

Yes, sir.

-I mean, yes, General!

-What are you doing?

That mouse is as good as dead.

Where are the dogs, then?

Must be their teatime. Wait here while I go and get a security pass.

-Is that gonna be a problem?

-For me? Huh! Nobody says no to Tracy Beaker.

-No!

-I know I'm late and it was my turn to lay the table, but...

Let me guess. Having a kickaround, you were spotted by a talent scout

-and were picked to play for England.

-No. It was Brazil, actually.

I hate rescheduling the cleaning rota around everybody's social lives.

-No visitors. Not tonight.

-But...

-Tracy, you understand the word "no"?

-Of course I do. "No" means...

-Yes.

-Great, let's go.

Hold on.

-When you said, "Come to my place," I thought you meant inside.

-Ssh!

Watch this.

-Yes!

-No.

-Don't you want to catch this mouse?

-Yes, but that's cruel.

There must be lots of things you can do.

You know... Well, think of something. But no violence.

It's no fun around here.

She'd like me to build it a little house and tuck it into bed.

-Keep it as a pet.

-Brilliant!

Here we are again, doing Tracy's work for her. Where is she?

That girl thinks she can get away with murder.

Hurry up.

I want to get out of these rags.

-Hi, Adele. You look great.

-Er...thanks.

This isn't allowed, is it?

I'm allowed. Well, not allowed exactly. It's a flexible rule.

-Definitely no boys in girls' room.

-That sounds flexible?

-"Definitely" has me worried. Would we get punished?

-What could they do?

I'd never squeal on anyone, even Justine Littlewood.

-OK, but I'd hate to get a mate into trouble.

-Mate?

Don't worry. No-one will find you.

Ah, food.

-Smells good.

-You want some? I'll get room service.

Just look at that. Perfect.

-Duke, you're probably the best cook in the world.

-What are you after?

Me? Nothing. A couple of slices in my room.

Yes, madam. I'll get the servants to bring them up(!)

-No need. I'll help myself.

-No!

-Look!

-Yes!

-No, not in here. Not by the food. Where did you catch it?

-Out there.

You haven't touched it, have you?

We've got it.

Hold this. I'm going to get my mallet.

BOTH: Mallet?

Tracy...

Tracy!

Hold it right there. >

-I hate cleaning.

-YOU do(?)

Who's that? Tracy Beaker - gotcha.

-I wonder if Jenny knows about your visitor.

-Justine, we don't snitch.

So, do you have any theories about the missing pizza?

My soccer skills coach must have decided to drop by for a snack,

-with my agent, to talk business.

-Really?

-Really.

-So, what are these?

It's obvious they've been planted there.

Take your fluffy toppings and eat them before your agent takes his 10%.

Let me at it.

Zac, let Duke do it. Don't worry about its family.

Sure. Its kids won't have a mum.

That hasn't ever done us any harm. Go ahead, Duke. Flatten it.

It's just a mouse.

Sure, so go on. Make more orphans.

-There's no alternative. You can't keep it here.

-I guess not.

You could just let it go.

And have it nibbling at my food?

-Would it come back after messing with you?

-It's learnt its lesson.

-I suppose I have shown it who's boss.

-No doubt.

It'll never set foot in this house again.

Thanks, Duke. It looks terrific.

Has everyone had some pizza?

Tracy, what about your friend?

-What friend?

-Her boyfriend in her bedroom, of course.

Erm...

any ketchup?

-There is no-one in my room!

-Not even footballers?

This is a violation of my rights! If the UN see you, you'd be for it!

Tracy, tell me the truth. Do you have anything to say to me?

-Is there anybody in your bedroom?

-No.

I mean...yes.

How come no-one ever believes me?

A written apology would be fine.

Maybe I was a bit hasty.

I should give you the benefit of the doubt.

I suppose I jumped to conclusions... MOBILE PHONE RINGS

It's OK. Wrong number.

Tracy Beaker!

Oh, you mean THAT boy.

Can you shoot me after dinner? I'm starving.

Subtitles by John Macdonald, Subtext for BBC Subtitling - 2002

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