John Sergeant Meets Rab C Nesbitt

This programme contains adult humour.

The world is undergoing the worst recession in living memory.

Super-rich bankers created the mess we're in.

But what about the other end of the food chain?

I will skive, skive and skive again to save the lifestyle I love!

State benefits account for a quarter

of Britain's national expenditure.

What punishment are we meting out

to the scroungers and wastrels of this country?

Sorry, Mary hen.

Looks like as if I'm away on one of my extended business trips again.

Are the super-poor as much to blame for broken Britain

as the super rich?

I aim confront one of the waster classes for myself.

He's been on state benefits for most of his adult life.

His name, if you don't know it, is Rab C Nesbitt.

Hello!

Smile!

The meek shall inherit the earth!

And they don't come much meeker than me, boy!

And what the hell are you looking at?

A nutter. A 3D nutter.

And don't you ever, ever forget it.

Come on! Get ye in front of me!

You're late, ya bastard.

Take that, ya swine!

A true saying, Rab.

It's intelligence that separates men frae the animals.

-You'll be Rab C Nesbitt.

-10 points for a coconut! You're dead right.

That's me, aye.

And you, of course, will be the latest establishment figure

to come up here and rebrand his career

and make wallopers oot a us locals, likely, eh?

-I can see we're going to get on famously.

-Aye, of course we will!

Come away into the office.

# If I had my life to live over

# I would still fall in love with you... #

I see your hands are shaking.

Sure your nose is running. So what?

I'll get straight to the point, Mr Nesbitt.

How much, approximately, do you drink?

Sorry? Oh, I couldnae tell you that, chief.

I'm never sober enough to tally it up, you know!

There's nothing the matter wi' a wee drink.

Who the hell are you, by the way?

Oh, come on, Rab - use your imagination.

I'm the heebie-jeebies.

So, this is your local. What do you like about this place?

Oh, well, it's the proximity, Johnny. It's the proximity.

It's 15 feet from my hoose, you know?

-Alcoholic, pub, pub, alcoholic - you know what I'm saying?

-Shall we start?

Yes, certainly.

This is where we get down to the business. The old third degree.

The moral means test.

Does that worry you, Rab? May I call you Rab?

You can call me whatever the hell you like, boy.

Some people call you a feckless prat, don't they?

What exactly do you mean by "feckless"?

Well, I mean someone who's irresponsible, useless,

lazy and selfish.

Someone who contributes nothing to society

and who hasn't done a single day's work in his life.

There is a working population in this country of 20 million.

There is only 17 million jobs to go roond.

So some poor bugger's got to be on the bru, haven't they?

So, it might as well be them that likes it!

The case just doesn't meet the necessary conditions.

I don't know how you do your job.

I don't know how you sleep in your bed at night.

Because I couldnae sleep in ma bed at night.

-That's cos you sleep during the day, da.

-Shut it!

I'll tell you this, boy. There's only one bloody job I want in here,

and that's your job.

Because frae where I'm standing,

you're getting paid good money for hee bloody haw!

-Look, I think you'd better just leave it.

-Come on, ya...

Away and work!

I don't actually think you've quite grasped

the subtlety of my business plan here, have you?

You're saying you're NOT a waster?

Oh, no, no, no - I'm not saying that.

No, no - I'm... I'm a waster all right.

But I am a cost-effective waster.

Unlike the banks, the poor don't hoard money.

See when I die, John?

When I die, there'll be nothing in my pockets but my testicles.

# Money money money

# Must be funny

# In a rich man's... #

Aha! Look at that! Hey!

50p, ya beauty! Eh? 50p!

Might no mean much to you,

but it liberates my suit frae the pawn, you know what I'm saying?

Top of that, the washing machine's buggered.

I'm having to scrape the rubbish oot ma Y-fronts wi' a kirby grip

every couple a days.

Which is an oddly therapeutic experience, as it happens.

The simple pleasures of the poor, eh?

Look at this, boy.

It might no be by its sell-by date,

but it's long past its knock-by date, know what I mean?

Eh, excuse me, brother. City of Culture.

Ten pence for a fondue set?

Any chance of ten pence so I can phone an ambulance?

How do I know you won't spend it on drink?

Because if I do,

it'll come spurting out from the bayonet wound in my back here.

Oh look, there's a character.

GLASS SMASHES

'Rab's answering my questions truthfully enough

'but with a sort of practised detachment that tells me

'I'm not really testing him, getting under his skin.

'Politicians defend themselves with arrogant self-assurance.

'Wasters achieve the same effect with a thick blubber of complacency.'

A pint of lager, please.

And a pie!

Oh, and a pie.

Make that two.

'I've done my own research

'and have come up armed with my own damning Rab C Nesbitt file.

'With it, I mean to bury this character in the pit

'of his own filth and fecklessness.

'A sort of dirty dossier, if you will.

'I realise if I'm going to understand Rab,

'I have to discover his world for myself,

'to see it from the inside. But to do that,

'I need to walk a mile in his shoes.'

So here we are in Govan Cemetery, Rab.

What does this cemetery mean to you?

Nothing at all.

The Nesbitt family get the bin bag treatment. We're all cremated.

I know that's not strictly true, is it?

Your father is buried in Govan, isn't he?

My father and me had what's known in family circles

as a strained relationship.

How frank can I be here, John? Can I talk about violence?

Use code. Find another word for violence.

Er...

-How about tickling?

-Lovely.

Basically my father would tickle my mother, I'd tickle him,

and we'd all roll about on the floor tickling each other till somebody passed out

or, well, something good came on the telly, you know?

SHOUTING

I don't need to be sneered at by you!

You've said ye'd do something one day - this had better be the day.

Right, ye big bastard. Come on!

Put that down, kid.

If I've got to come over there, I'll...

-I'll...

-It's all right, I'll wait till you think of something.

HE GURGLES AND CHOKES

I think he's had a heart attack.

Well, let's hear it for cholesterol.

In fact, he's dead.

It's as well for him, or I'd have whisked the shite out of him.

My old man's headstone.

30 years dead today.

You'd think he'd be called by now, eh?

He was Rab B Nesbitt.

His fellah was Rab A, I'm Rab C.

What are we going to do when we run out of the alphabet?

I'd like to talk to you about your childhood.

-Were you close to your father?

-Well, not if I could help it.

-Otherwise, I'd get a boot aboot the melt, you know?

-Really?

And what is your earliest memory of him?

When I was 15, I'll always remember the friction burns

he left on the carpet when I handed over my first wage packet.

Oh...

Well, that just goes to show you, doesn't it, Doctor?

You can live with somebody all your life, but you never really know them.

Did you not know my father was an alkie?

Oh, aye. But I never knew you had a job.

I mean, back then, well, my father's job was to get bladdered.

That's what he did, you know?

My mother used to sit at the fireplace with a pot of stewed tea,

a packet of fags up the sleeve of her cardigan,

offloading to her eldest son, basically.

Would you like a cup of tea, son?

-No, thanks.

-No trouble.

-No, thanks.

I'm having one myself.

-No, thanks.

-Are you sure?

-Mother?

-What?

Gonnae stick your tea up your arse!

But would you like some?

-All right.

-Aye, I knew you would.

Nurse! Nurse!

Mr Nesbitt. Is everything all right?

All right? All right is it, no!

Everything is not bloody well all right!

You see that woman lying there? You see that woman lying there? That is my mother! That's my mother!

One of the finest, finest human beings ever to walk on this earth.

-Yes, I know.

-Aye, well, look!

-Bloody well look!

-Sorry?

She has not got her teeth in.

Her gob is a calcium-free zone, isn't it?

And this is the woman that was so self-conscious

she used to have a dish towel over her knees when she was watching the telly,

because she thought Trevor McDonald could see in up her bloody skirt!

Rab, this is Restitution Street Secondary.

-Was school a happy time for you?

-Happy? Have you got a dictionary?

Actually, come to think of it, you know, to be honest with you, there was one happy memory.

-We'll come to that later, eh?

-All right.

-Do you remember any of your teachers?

-Couldn't forget them.

-Be quiet and read.

-Be quiet and read?

Wee a bit of a contradiction there, sir, but I'll do my best.

I'm a wee bit of a character, but you'll get to know that.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

Oh, come on!

I mean, the first two, I'll give you, but the meek inheriting the earth?

I mean what do you get after the earth - a Ford Popular and a free apartment in Castlemilk?

Right! That is the Bible!

-But the Bible's talking keech, sir.

-Hands up!

You've talked about a single happy memory. What was that?

Well, I was a just a wee...

simple wee thing, you know?

I got sent a Valentine card, there you are.

Oh, I know, I know, me.

Ugly, scabby Rab, eh?

I didnae do anything about it.

Why not? She was obviously interested.

No, John, no. Her people was classy.

I mean, they paid full rent and everything, you know?

Whereas you could've worn your living room carpet like a poncho, the size of the hole that was in it.

What ye got a big reddy for?

Was that your first guess?

Good kisser, aren't I?

SHE SPITS

Sorry, Isabel, I should have finished my crisps before I kissed you.

Oh, it's all right.

-It's great bringing a picnic, isn't it?

-Aye.

I've never been on a picnic before.

Govan picnic. Ten fags and a bottle of Tizer.

'Well, it's the end of day one and what have I discovered?

'I know that Rab is streetwise and shifty.

'I know that I still despise everything he stands for,

'and that won't change.

'But significantly, I no longer despise Rab himself.

'What changed me?

'It was that little tale he told about the St Valentine's Day card.

'This gave him - and me - an insight, an illumination.

'I could see it in his face.

'The path not taken, the life that might have been but never was.

'It's day two, and I fully intend to employ insider knowledge

'to outflank Rab. There's someone coming to see me

'who can help me achieve just that.'

-All right?

-Thanks. Lovely.

Who's paying for this, Johnny boy, eh?

-My licence fee, eh?

-Rab!

Mary, how probing can I make my questions?

Well, eh...

Hey, hey, you probe away,

I'll be in the toilet.

I have to ask you this.

How could an intelligent, attractive woman like you

choose a disgusting reprobate like Rab for a husband?

-She got lucky!

-Aw, butt out!

Well, deep down, Rab is a romantic.

FARTING AND URINATING NOISES

And he wooed me with a heady combination of chips and ginger.

Oh, er...fizzy juice.

We're Rab and Mary Nesbitt here, you know?

Our marriage is mair stable than the monarchy.

Our marriage is an encouragement to every heidbanger, deviant

and mouth-breathin' sociopath in Wine Alley!

This is no time to romanticise, Rab.

-Rab?

-Hey!

Do I look all right?

Oh, you look better than all right.

You look...no bad.

I wish you'd get it into your napper that...

that I love ye, ya daft bitch!

And I love you...

ya honkin' midden.

So you're saying it was a love match right from the start?

Well, I was inexperienced. I had nothing to compare him with.

I thought all men must have no shirts and smell of bins.

I tell ye, see women nowadays? I don't know.

I mean, mibbe you can tell me. Cos see mine?

All I ever get is, "I want this," and, "Gimme that."

See in the old days?

All ye ever had to give them was a quick skite around the chops.

I'll tell you something else, they were happier for it.

They loved ye for it! Even begged ye for more!

No that you ever gave them any, y'understand.

Ye don't want to spoil them.

Nowadays, ye cannae even talk to them, you know?

D'you know what it was last year? An orgasm. Eh?

"Hey, you, gie's an orgasm! Her next door got one."

Well, away across the landing and get a lend of hers!

You'll get nae sexual satisfaction fae me, lady! Tell ye.

Give it ecstasy once and next thing ye know, it'll be,

"Aw, Rab, let us fondle your simmit. How was it for you?"

I just tell her straight, I say,

"Listen, lady, I have no idea how it was for me,

"cos I always make a point of going to sleep before we finish."

If you could turn back the clock and live your life all over again,

what would you change?

Oh, well...

my living room carpet.

Dark colours show up everything.

Oh, and my PIN number. Rab stole my credit card again. Didn't you, Rab?

Rab? Rab!

-DOOR SLAMS

-Such larks, eh?

-Hello, there, Mary doll!

-What the hell time do you call this?

What am I talking about? What the hell MONTH do you call this?

C'mon, don't be like that, c'mere.

Don't you "come here" me, Rab Nesbitt!

You come staggering back here after three months on the jug

and you expect me to welcome you with open arms?

Open legs would be better.

How can I put this without hurting your feelings?

See if I was marooned on Fanny Island?

And there was nothing but fannies as far as the eye could see?

And I spotted a footprint in the sand

and I discovered that footprint was made by Rab "Two Cocks" Nesbitt?

I wouldnae take a lend of those two cocks to rub together to make a fire.

That's how much chance you have of a wee snuggle up.

-Are you readin' me, Rab?

-Oh, yes. Loud and clear, Mary.

No semaphore required.

-Night, then, sweetheart.

-Good night, sweetheart.

See that woman there? See that woman?

If it came to a choice between that woman or Michelle Pfeiffer...

I would choose Michelle Pfeiffer.

Mind you, I'd have the decency to fee a wee bit guilty about it,

you know? That's the kind of big-hearted bastard I am.

Watch and learn.

Is that you, Mary doll?

Aye, that's me, Rab. And my lunch better be on the table.

It certainly is!

Surprise!

Wrap your gnashers roon that!

I was just...

Anybody fancy chips?

Eh, Rab...see that TLC?

You got any left for me?

If you have the pollen, Mary,

I have the stem!

That's the thing about Mary, isn't it?

Doesnae matter how tame you get. Your wullie's still aff its heid.

'Mary is a lovely woman, but understandably she's biased.

'I need to talk to Nesbitt's friends,

'and who better or worse than the toxic waster in a jacket

'that is James Aaron Cotter.'

Jamesie, what is your relationship with Rab?

I am Rab's best friend.

Ya big, mawkit, wet-brained keech-kicker, that ye are.

You, ya wee heap of rancid pus that you are, eh?

Rab describes himself as a drunken waster - are you the same?

Rab is more guzzle-orientated than myself.

I can be drinking quietly, then lo,

I hear the call of the wild hunting horn

from down below in my loins and I veer off down the alleyways of Govan

in pursuit of joyful, meaningless, empty sex.

You're too good for this world.

You've never been understood.

D'you mean that?

Or are you just bein'...

I'm Jamesie...

I'm here to help.

Eh, here she's Strippin' The Willow there, eh?

D'you want me to strip her for ye?

This is the game, eh?

See this is what I call living, Mary hen.

If ever I fancy going out with

a married middle-aged loser that's got bigger tits than I've got,

I'll be sure to get in touch.

Right, well.

No, no, I needed that,

cos I've been a bit too successful

wi' the bints lately, know?

Rab...

Rab!

Did I get aff wi' Esther Rantzen last night?

Gonnae, gonnae take a...

Gonnae take a look and tell me what to dae.

Dae what you always dae.

Bung her a fake phone number

and tell her you'll gie her a bell next week.

Come on, champ!

Pick yerself up.

You've still got your pride.

DOG WHINES AND BARKS

You describe yourself as Rab's best friend,

but one of the woman you had an affair with

was Mary, his wife, didn't you?

This is what we in the sleaze industry call a revenge rumba.

You see Rab had been indelicate with a young lady.

Upon hearing this, I immediately rushed round to comfort Mary...

with my...

comforter.

How often did you comfort her?

A gentleman never tells.

Four times altogether excluding an exuberant fumble on parting.

Don't lump all men together, Mary. I mean, I'm a feminist myself, you know.

I understand women. Well, I should - I've shagged hundreds of you.

All right there, Mary hen?

Aye.

I was just saying to the boys here that you must be feeling a wee bit miserable, you know,

wi' Rab being away. A wee bit insecure, like.

Aye. I'll tell ye something else.

What's that?

I'm no half missing a podger.

I've never told you this before, but see you, Mary? You're a fine- lookin' woman, by the way.

And you're...a fine-lookin' man, Jamesie.

In the name of God!

Cotter. You ruined my life. You stole my wife.

I went to the jail because of you. You hear me, Cotter?

I'm no scared of you, Nesbitt.

If you wannae fight, sure, I'll be happy to take you outside

and teach you a lesson.

Unfortunately, I am blind.

A tragic drinking accident robbed me of my sight,

otherwise I would be willing...

nay, delighted to take you outside

and gie you a thrashing you'd never forget.

It cannae be adultery. I'm your mate.

What does that make it?

Friendly fire.

Do you promise me that what you said was true that you never once

betrayed me with that woman?

My word of honour.

And do you promise that you have never been unfaithful to me?

Oh, I do, Rab.

Cos let's face it, what is a marriage without honesty?

Happy anniversary, Rab.

Happy anniversary, Mary doll.

Right, then, now that's settled, why don't we all get pished, strip to the scuddy

and have a wee foursome on the carpet for old times' sake?

Worth a shot.

Apart from sleeping with his wife,

you also coaxed Rab back into drinking, didn't you?

Yes. That is correct. But I don't look for thanks.

Naw, naw, naw, I'm no going back to the drink. Ye can cut that oot right now.

It's self, self, self with you, in't it?

What about your pals?

We need a chronic alcoholic in our lives.

It takes the bad look off the rest of us.

Pure gallus, eh?

Hey, it gets better, too. Show them, Rab.

Hey!

I'll tell you, it's a bloody sight more fun worn inside than out, eh?

I know what you're thinking here.

I am not, I am not an alkie,

because alkies get pissed

and lie aboot in gutters.

Well, fair enough, I am pissed.

I am lying in a gutter.

But the point is,

I just dae it casual, you know?

I mean, to alkies, that's their day job.

I mean, see drink?

I just take it to be sociable,

to pass myself in company, you know?

To lay down the bottom line, I can take drink and I can leave it.

I'd sooner take it, all the same.

'While still in the pub, a flirtatious female of uncertain vintage caught my attention.

'It was Jamesie Cotter's wife.'

My name is Ella.

Along with Mary, I'm a joint director and fellow operative

of the House Mice Hygiene Enterprises.

-You mean you're a cleaner?

-Correct.

If I could ask you this, now just...

I bet you've never had relations this far north, have you?

You should try it.

Scottish women are always ready -

it's the damp in the air that does it.

Pleased to meet you...Joe.

Pleased to meet you...Ella.

You all right, Ella? Can I get you anything?

Start with a dry pair of knickers.

Aaaaarrrrggghhh!

Put the mask on, put the mask on!

Ella.

What?

Are we having a lesbian love affair?

I don't know Mary. How?

Cos we're woke up in the same bed and we're lying in the bare scuddy.

We are?

In the name o' God!

Oh...and that's no the only thing.

-What is it?

-You've got a love bite on your neck!

-That's nothing, Mary.

-What?

You've got one on your arse!

If you could have one wish granted, what would it be?

I wouldn't want anything for myself.

But I'd like a fatal stroke for Jamesie. I think he deserves it.

-Are you still on that Bumhole.com?

-Naw, I'm on Facebook.

The last place on earth where a man can give a woman a poke without getting his coupon slapped!

Are there two Fs in sphincter?

'Heartened insights gleaned in the pub, I sought to run my scalpel

'down the bared nerves of Rab's psyche. I'm exaggerating a bit, but it's a nice sentence.'

We're born alone and we die alone.

And the bit in the middle, well, it's negotiable, innit?

-Is that why you found religion?

-No. Religion actually found me, John.

I was actually hiding at the bottom of an empty glass, but funnily enough, it knew where to look.

Would you care to join us, Mr Nesbitt?

What, with the Masonic version of Christianity? Oh, aye.

And lo, three Protestants came from the Eastern Star bearing gifts -

gold, frankincense, and Nick Faldo golf clubs.

And they looked upon the Saviour and said,

"Verily, I think ye looketh a bit Papal to me.

"Look at the way his eyebrows meeteth in the middle.

"And look at the way his bootees waggle when we showeth him

"the video of Riverdance.

"Nevertheless, we shall call him Findlay.

"Findlay Corstorphine Christ. We'll put his name down for St Andrews

"and we shall buy him a Hillman Imp for his 21st."

Oh, you're all right, I think I'll just have a fag instead.

..When Jesus came of age and he knew there were a number of things that he must do.

And he went up to Jerusalem

and he found in the temple there those that sold oxen and sheep and the changers of the money,

-sitting...

-You go on, yerself, son! You tell 'em!

And after Jesus had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple!

And the sheep and the oxen!

That's all yous he's talking about, by the way.

All you Frasers and Emilias with your Benetton oxes and your Pringle sheep! Get them all away!

I'll tell you this, boy.

See me? I've got nothing, by the way, nothin'! But I have never once coveted my neighbour's wife!

There ye are. Even though she's separated now.

That's not my style! Not my style!

Look, pal, I appreciate your enthusiasm,

but if I wanted a support act, I'd have booked one. Now get lost!

All right, all right, all right!

Why is religion such a divisive subject in Sotland?

It's not just divisive in Scotland, is it? It's divisive anywhere.

Up here, they ask what school you went to, so they can find out what religion you are.

But in the home counties, they ask you what school you went to

to find out if you were privately educated or not.

See England? Class. That's what your religion is.

Excuse me, Jim. I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm trying to get to Sidcup, no?

The wife's cousin's going to gie us a billet down there,

-so I'm wanting to know how to get there and that, no?

-What?

Sidcup. I'm trying to get to Sidcup.

I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying.

Eh, you can't understand what I'm saying?

Oh, is that a fact?

Well, answer me this, boy.

Do you watch the television? Eh? Do you watch Neighbours?

Neighbours, yes.

Do you understand that?

Of course.

Well, that's a funny thing, isn't it? That's a funny thing.

Because I will tell you, that is Australian, by the way.

That comes from halfway round the other side of the world!

And I just come from five minutes up the road in Glasgow.

So if you can understand that, you can understand me.

So in future, clean your bloody ears oot!

Ignorant bamstick.

What we're eating here is a common Govan delicacy

called a fish supper. Is that right, Rab?

Well, yeah, that's right, but it's no really right.

For reasons obscure, there's actually no "aitch" in it, no "aitch".

It's actually...a "fiss supper", a "fiss supper".

-A fiss supp-urr.

-Correct!

-MARY:

-Gie me the chips.

-They'll be cold by noo.

-Aw, so what? I hate posh dinners.

Tiny wee amounts, having to eat before ye eat.

DOOR OPENS

-Hello...

-BOTH: Hello!

Some place, Govan, eh? Where else can you get a fish supper at nine o'clock in the morning?

Simple.

You just pamp it off a drunk that's been lying pissed ootside his close all night.

-Want a wee drop of this?

-Aye...

Diet up here is notoriously unhealthy.

Did you never eat fruit or vegetables as a child?

Well...really, we were just like everybody else up here,

every other family in the street.

I mean, we had a fruit bowl, we just didnae have any fruit.

For years, I thought kirby grips and gas bills must be fruit,

cos, well, that was a' that was ever in the fruit bowl, you know?

-Do you blame your parents for that?

-Nah.

I realised the wheel turns full circle.

I mean, I came to realise it's... well, you must know this yersel',

it's thankless being a parent, innit?

Burney...come here, son. I've a wee present for ye.

-Oh, great, can I, Da, can I?

-Aye, go on, son, you deserve it!

That's my boy! That's my boy.

There's nothing wrong with the human body - it's a perfectly normal and natural thing.

Does that mean you'll be going topless, then, Maw?

Certainly not! I think it's bloody disgusting.

-Thank Christ for that.

-Shut it you, ya wee...

Don't be so sexist. Your mother's got marvellous tits.

Want a wee chip, Burney, son?

-Stick yer chips up yer arse!

-Hey, hey, hey, manners!

Please!

So, ye pump your arse oot the window and you tell your ugly

wee granddaughter the story of your life.

Where you drank a' the drink, ate a' the pies

and shit logs that you could block the Clyde with.

It's all a load o' crap, of course, but it's the only thing

that keeps her stupid wee yap shut, you know what I'm saying?

-I feel sullied!

-But we are sullied, we're Nesbitts.

Shut it, you! Yer maw's right.

Youse boys don't realise the kind of world we're living in here.

The kind of things your mother and I

try and protect you against, like drugs and violence...

-And work.

-Aye, exactly!

I mean, the world's no the place it used to be.

Fair enough, I might be a parasite,

but there is a breed of super-parasite oot there noo

that makes us Nesbitts look like...the bloody Royal Family!

Come on, Rab, we're no that bad.

It's sad to think that this place was the hub of British industry.

Aye... You know, the truth of the matter is, John,

nae welder in Govan can get a job as a welder nowadays.

But you'll get a grant to put on a play about welders IN Govan,

you know what I'm sayin'?

I mean, actually some day the dole's going to offer me

a job as a mime artist - miming being on the dole.

Are you with me?

Do you want this job or not?

No, I don't want this job, of course I don't want this job!

You're gonnae gie it to me anyway and just shut up?

Right. Who here would like a job?

Mrs Maxwell, can I introduce Rab, who's been tidying your garden for you?

I'm 84, you know.

Aye, I thought that.

No really worth your while goin' on, is it?

That is why I have prepared you this...!

But that's no a'...

I'll throw ye a bin bag as well!

It is a 24/7 job these days, avoiding work. D'ye know that?

I actually pity young wasters comin' into the laziness industries nowadays. What chance have they got?

You've really done nothing in your life, have you, Rab?

Actually, funny you should say that, I mean...

cos I was actually just mappin' the genome there before I come oot the hoose.

Catch a grip of yersel'!

You tellin' me you've come all the way up here frae London

to interview a guy that's done nothin' with his life?

And you're takin' a wage packet for that?!

Have ye no pride, man, have ye nae pride?

Now, if you'll excuse me - I'm away to find a cure for cancer,

ya bam that ye are!

'At last, I'd succeeded in getting under Rab's skin.

'I don't want to leave Govan on bad terms,

'so I've agreed to meet Rab and the others for a wee swally before I go.'

-So, what was your question again?

-What are you?

I've telt ye. I'm a statistic!

I mean, poverty never goes oot of fashion

so I'll tell you one thing, my future is secure.

I mean, how many of you people in work can say the same thing?

I can't.

Naebody knows what I'm talkin' aboot!

SHOUTING

IMPASSIONED RANTING IN SPANISH

Bandy! Bandy!

Bandy, bandage, aye... Bandage!

Oh, amigo, amigo...!

You tell the bastards! You tell the bastards!

EXCITED TORRENT OF SPANISH

Hands across the sea, brother! Hands across the sea!

-Adios!

-Adios!

There's nothing restores your faith mair in human nature

than meetin' some poor bastard that's just as mad as yersel', eh?

Wait and see this. I love this, watch this...

Look, look, look. Ready?

Soft eject. See that, ye see that?

I'll do it again, I'll do it again.

I love it. I lap it up, so I dae.

A moment of sanity in a world gone mad.

I'm goin'. I'm goin'.

You'll go far, by the way, you know?

Your patter's magic(!)

They're worse than I am, worse. And I'm scum!

Eh? I mean, maybe you can work it oot, because I cannae.

But then again, who am I, eh? Who am I? Eh?

Nah, nah... See when you scrape it a' away, a' the crap,

and you get right doon to it, right doon to the bottom line -

they're all a lot o' jumped-up fascist bastards, that's what they are!

C'mon. What about a drink?

Maybe just the one, out of politeness.

Hey-hey! You're the man for me.

BOTH: # We got married in a fever

# Hotter than a pepper sprout

# We've been talkin' about Jackson

# Ever since the fire went out

# I'm going to Jackson

# I'm going to mess around

# Yeah, I'm going to Jackson

# Look out, Jackson town! #

You're looking a wee bit peely-wally there, Johnny boy...

No, I'm all right, I just had a bad pint. I'm OK.

Oh, a wee bad pint. Oh, yes, it's been known to happen.

-I believe you, I believe you.

-Oh, good.

-Thank you.

-Aye.

-And th-thank you for everything.

-Aye, nae bother.

I, er... You know, I...

I love you.

I love you, big fella, I really do.

Aye, nae bother... Nae bother... I love you tae!

Argh...!

'I arrived in Govan in search of Rab C Nesbitt's recession.

'The poverty I was looking for is easy to find.

'It's in the leaky trainer and the choked aorta valve.

'Miraculously, that Govan heart still beats - and strongly.

'But why should I be surprised?

'As Rab says, scum always rises to the top.

'So do I approve of Rab? No.

'Do I like him? Yes.

'Will any of his ways rub off on me?

'Not a chance.

'Now, what are you waiting for?

'Beat it!'

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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