You Can't Teach a New Dog Old Tricks Are You Being Served?

# Ground floor perfumery stationary, and leather goods, wigs

# and haberdashery, kitchenware and food. Going up...

# First floor telephones, gents' ready-made suits, shirts, socks

# ties, hats, underwear, and shoes Going up... #

Don't move.

It is a thing of beauty.

-You reckon?

-Oh, yes, a generous cut can hide a multitude of sins.

Not that you look as though you need that. Do you mind?

Oh, yes, very impressive.

You're like me, aren't you?

I very much doubt it.

Narrow waist.

See, I'm lucky because the women on my mother's side

have always been very hippy,

whereas I can get away with a bolero jacket and low riders.

But as Captain Peacock says,

"Snake hips are for the dance floor, not for the shop floor."

I have no idea what you're talking about.

And don't worry about the sleeves, they'll ride up with wear.

Mr Humphries, are you free?

Not at the moment, Captain Peacock,

I'm just negotiating an indigo double-breasted.

Oh, yes, good morning, sir.

Some people find the double-breasted old-fashioned

but I prefer the word "classic".

I was just about to say that.

This is my jacket.

It certainly is, sir.

Mr Humphries, I believe you have a sale.

Oh, well, you can't wrestle with fate,

although goodness knows I've tried.

-Would you like to walk this way?

-No, you don't understand.

This is my jacket.

It belongs to me.

I'm Richard. I'm supposed to start work today.

-Which department?

-Menswear.

Oh, no, quite impossible. I'm head of Menswear.

And as you would be under myself I would know about that.

Strictly speaking, he'd be under me and I'd definitely know about that.

Strictly speaking, he would be under Mr Grainger,

so perhaps he should be our next port of call.

Mr Grainger, are you free?

At the moment, Captain Peacock,

but I've just heard there's an under-21s Italian football team

on the ground floor.

So I'm just rearranging my underwear.

It's always the quiet ones.

I was given a job by Mr Rumbold.

Mr Rumbold, yes, that would explain matters.

What is your full name?

-Richard Conway.

-Now, Mr Humphries,

would you supply Mr Conway with a new suit.

Mr Grainger, take his inside leg measurement, would you?

Mr Humphries tends to make a meal of such things.

Miss Brahms, your attention to the job in hand, if you please.

Sorry, Mrs Slocum, but did you just see that?

-See what?

-That boy.

Just gave me a wink.

Somebody call the police!

No, I'm just saying, he can't be more than 21, 22.

Oh, it gets worse.

I'm looking for a man, not a boy.

Quite right, Miss Brahms.

Mind you, he was fit.

What?

Fit?

Daley Thompson is fit, Jimmy Connors is fit.

If it's a young man's appearance you're commenting on,

please try and use the correct vernacular.

The correct what?

I like the word "dishy".

Who's Jimmy Connors?

Who's Jimmy...? Who's Jimmy Connors?

Only the greatest tennis player that ever breathed.

I don't like tennis.

I like Jim Kerr, do you know Simple Minds?

No, but I work with a few.

So, did you fancy him, then?

Back in the day, this Jimmy Connor?

Connors.

Not half.

Centre Court, Wimbledon, 1977.

I thought all my birthdays had come at once

when I caught one of his balls.

You were lucky.

All the security they have these days I don't think you can get that close to them.

Oh, no... Ooh.

Give all this a wipe down with a cloth, will you?

-What do you think you're doing?

-You told me to wipe everything down.

Not with those.

-Why not, they're cloths, ain't they?

-Certainly not.

They're my perfumed intimate lady wipes.

I bring them from home.

Intimate? They're like dishcloths.

Put them away and go and get a can of Pledge from Mr Harman and mind your own business.

Where did Stephen go?

Now, Mr Grainger, you'll get shot.

It may be Stephen at the golf club,

but on the shop floor it's Captain Peacock.

I don't play golf.

Don't play any sports.

You surprise me.

I don't know why we have to call each other Mr This and Mr That.

Grace Brothers should move with the times.

It's 1980...

Eight!

Thank you. Yes, I was saying,

I'm all for showing respect but after all it is 1980...

-What was it?

-Eight!

It's 1988!

There's no need to shout.

It's 1988!

Grace Brothers should have a much more relaxed approach.

Yes, well, if you were any more relaxed you'd need a defibrillator.

-I'm sorry?

-Nothing.

Don't be facetious, Mr Humphries.

I'll have you know that at my bridge club my nickname is Flash.

Yes, I dread to think why.

Well, I'm sorry, Captain Peacock, but Mr Conway was hired in your absence.

What do you mean, absence?

I haven't had a day off since 1972.

No, no, not your absence from Grace Brothers,

I mean your absence from my sister's barbecue.

What on earth are you talking about? I've never met your sister.

Are you sure you haven't had a day off since 1972?

I could have sworn you were on the staff Spanish jolly in '77.

Clearly, I meant apart from scheduled holidays.

Look, I'm sorry, Stephen,

but a couple of weeks ago my wife and I were at my sister's barbecue when

Mrs Rumbold shared a whole pork tenderloin with Lulu, her Chihuahua.

Honestly, eyes bigger than her belly.

I wouldn't say that, I've always thought Mrs Rumbold had rather beautiful eyes.

I was talking about the dog.

-Oh, I beg your pardon.

-Anyway, she started to choke and couldn't breathe.

Well, we tried everything until young Richard dashed over and put

his finger up her bottom.

Good lord, I hope Mrs Rumbold is recovered.

I was talking about the dog.

Yes, I see.

Rather an extreme action but an old veterinary trick, apparently.

Loosens the jaws.

Handy to know if you're ever bitten.

You mean by a dog?

Well, I don't mean by Mrs Rumbold.

Anyway, poor Lulu would probably have choked to death so we asked young Richard if there was any way

we could thank him.

He said he'd been looking for a job for almost a year and, well, you can work out the rest.

But not in Menswear, Mr Rumbold.

We are a finely balanced team.

Couldn't you put him in Ladies Shoes and let him climb his way up?

Young Mr Grace is very keen to drag the first floor into the '80s.

A reasonable request considering we're almost in the '90s.

-Now, was there anything else?

-Not at present, Mr Rumbold.

Well, very good, enjoy the rest of your day.

Well, let's start with the basics.

Do you have any experience working on a shop floor?

Do you want the short answer or the long answer?

The short one, the days here are long enough.

-I have.

-Oh, well, that's a good start.

What was the long answer?

I have...no experience working on a shop floor.

Oh, dear.

You're not going to say anything, are you?

-I need this job.

-Oh, don't worry, I'm very good at keeping secrets.

I was in the Wobbly Wand Club.

-Excuse me?

-It was for younger boys who weren't old enough to join the Magic Circle.

I used to have this floating ball which used to leave the

other boys in my class open mouthed.

-There's no answer to that.

-Exactly, so my advice would be,

don't let on you don't have any previous experience

and any questions, just come to me.

Do you have any questions?

Yeah, the one by the counter, is she married?

Which one do you mean?

Which one do you think I mean?

Well, they're both a fair bit older than you.

One's older than me, the other one's older than everyone.

I don't know, rumour has it Mr Grainger once shared a party wall with King Herod.

But if you mean Miss Brahms, you'll have to ask her yourself.

Is she into younger guys?

I've no idea, but she's no easy pickings.

We had a Mr Lucas work here once and he was forever trying to stamp her

receipt, if you know what I mean.

-I don't get it.

-No, neither did Mr Lucas.

I've seen bigger bristols on a middle-aged man.

Mr Harman, do you mind?

Not at all.

She seems to be missing her raspberry ripples.

I'll keep an eye out for them if you want.

Disgusting. State your business on the shop floor or leave immediately.

I need a few of them Grace Brothers bags,

the big shiny ones with the string.

Certainly not.

Grace Brothers bags are for bone fide purchases only.

They have had a buffet in Perfume.

They've launched a new ladies fragrance this morning called Belly!

We had a right laugh at that down in Maintenance.

I wonder what the next one'll be called.

Bingo Wings?

B-E-L-L-E.

It's French for "beautiful woman".

Not that an ignoramus like you would know of such things.

I may be an ig-ro-namus but this afternoon

I'll be an ign-ro-namus with a load of posh leftovers.

Topside of beef, lobster, caviar, the lot.

-Lobster?

-Yeah.

-And caviar?

-That's what I said.

So, do I get some of them bags or not?

Miss Brahms, two large Grace Brothers bags for Mr Harman.

I've not had lobster since Mr Akbar's flat warming.

and then it was covered in so many spices my pussy had a sneezing fit.

Two large Grace Brothers bags.

-Thank you.

-So you're going to bring some of that buffet here?

After all the names you've called me?

You've got to be joking.

And it's ig-NO-ramus.

Do you ever go to the cinema?

Excuse me.

I could take you up the Regal one night.

'Ere, are you chatting me up?

I'm old enough to be your...

..big sister.

I'm just trying to make friends.

What about Mr Humphries?

Bet you haven't offered to take him up the Regal.

So what do you say, Shirley?

No, thank you.

And you're supposed to call me Miss Brahms on the shop floor.

All this Miss Brahms, Mr Conway...

This place is stuck in a time warp.

My sentiments exactly, Mr Conway.

Sorry, Mr Grainger.

We are here to work, Miss Brahms.

Yes, Mr Grainger.

I run a tight ship.

But I'm not without compassion when it comes to affairs of the heart.

After all, it was on this very shop floor I met Mrs Grainger.

Really?

Oh, yes. I was waiting for the lift to go up to Soft Furnishings.

The doors opened and she stepped out.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Aw!

I wish it were tomorrow, I'd take the bloody stairs.

Young Mr Grace to see you, Mr Rumbold.

Send him in, Miss Lloyd. This might be a good time for you to take your

optional ten minute recess, Miss Croft.

Thank you, Mr Rumbold.

I'm going to get a cheese and pickle roll from the canteen, do you want anything?

Oh, no, thank you, Miss Croft.

Well, if you change your mind and fancy a roll, I'll be upstairs.

Well, if he doesn't fancy it I might.

Bertie, you old devil!

Mr Grace, a pleasure as always.

Now, come on, Bert, what have I told you about calling me Mr Grace?

Old habits die hard.

At least it's not Young Mr Grace, remember when people used to call me that?

An affectionate term for your grandfather, I'm sure you're thought of in the same manner.

Now, can I get you some tea, biscuits?

No, thank you, I've just had a cappuccino,

followed by a massive brownie.

Well, I hope you flushed it twice, that cistern has a mind of its own.

How are you getting on with the new Amstrad?

Amstrad?

Oh, oh, that Amstrad.

I thought you meant a different...Amstrad. Oh, you know,

slowly, slowly, catchy monkey.

I don't know what that means,

but it might all go a little less slowly if you were to plug it in.

We've had it plugged in, it's got all the bells and whistles.

It's a desktop computer, it's not Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Yes, no, what I mean was it's very impressive.

399 quid's worth of kit, should be.

Yes, yes, quite. Really?

Now, I'll get straight to the point.

I've spent the last three years bringing Grace Brothers back from the brink.

I've just fended off a huge takeover bid which would have put three

million quid in one pocket and three million in shares in the other pocket.

And you know what I need now?

Bigger pockets?

I need to drag the first floor into the 20th century and we can start by

getting the filing system computerised.

I will try harder with the...Amstrad.

Perhaps Mr Conway can give me a few pointers.

-Mr Conway?

-The young chap we've just taken on in Menswear.

Oh, yeah, Richard.

That was a great idea.

You brought the average age of the first floor down by about 20 years

when you took him on.

It's just the other dinosaurs we need to shift now.

I thought Grainger had retired?

Oh, he had, he came back to Grace Brothers

to spend less time with wife.

Captain Peacock showing any signs of hanging up his hat?

Captain Peacock? Oh, no, running the first floor is his life.

I'm not here to support people's lifestyles,

I'm here to run a department store.

I can assure you a ship needs a captain at the wheel.

Why have cabin boys running around

when you can have a deck covered in seamen?

PHONE RINGS

PHONE RINGS

PHONE RINGS

Grace Brothers, Ladies' Fashions,

Miss Brahms speaking, can I help you?

Mrs Slocombe, are you free?

It's Mr Akbar on the phone for you.

Mr Akbar? Yeah. On the phone?

-Yeah.

-For me?

-Yes!

Whatever for?

Hello? Oh, hello, Mr Akbar, what can I do for you?

You're phoning from where?

Oh, what on earth are you doing there?

Why, what's happened?

Oh, Bloody Nora. Miss Brahms, quick, me bag.

Is everything all right?

I've got to nip home, cover for me.

Oh. Ooh.

Oof.

No, honestly, I think Sir's made the right decision.

Deerstalkers are definitely on their way back.

Although it's quite warm out so if you were thinking of wearing it

today I'd keep your flaps up or you'll be in danger of overheating.

Mr Humphries, are you free?

I'm free!

Could I speak with you for a moment?

Mr Humphries, are you having problems with your feet?

-Oh, it's these shoes, Captain Peacock.

-What's the matter with them, are they the wrong size?

No, they're my mother's.

I beg your pardon?

I'm breaking them in for her.

She's got this wedding to go to on Saturday and these are new.

Oh, you should have seen her tottering around the conservatory like Tina Turner.

You are wearing women's shoes on the shop floor?

They're a very low kitten heel, Captain Peacock.

Mr Grainger's built-up shoe is much bigger.

Take them off.

Yes, Captain Peacock.

Now then, tell me, when did you last see Mrs Slocombe?

THEY MOUTH

-Hmm?

-Sorry, Captain Peacock.

I'm not sure, just a few minutes ago, I think.

It's hard to tell, we've had such a run on deerstalkers.

Oh, really, how many have you sold?

Just the one.

Hardly a run.

Well, a walk of a thousand miles starts with one step.

Not in those shoes.

Anything else, Captain Peacock?

Yes, how is Mr Conway settling in?

Oh, he's a natural.

Extremely keen, loving the work and 100% committed to the job.

-And where is he now?

-He's on a fag break.

We do not have fag breaks, Mr Humphries.

We have a morning and afternoon ten-minute optional recess.

Oh, well, I see, then he's on an afternoon ten-minute optional recess.

-And when is he due to return?

-Oh, he shouldn't be long, he's only nipped out for a fag.

PHONE RINGS

Grace Brothers, Menswear.

Mr Grainger speaking.

Oh.

Captain Peacock, are you free?

I have a telephone call for you.

Who is it, Mr Grainger?

I think it's Mr Rumbold.

But I'm afraid I need syringing again.

I could open a candle factory with the amount of wax in my ears.

Grace Brothers, Menswear, Captain Peacock speaking.

Peacock, Rumbold here.

Just to let you know, young Mr Grace has called a meeting

in my office in 20 minutes.

No, Miss Croft, it's not long enough to go in there.

Don't keep tugging at it so hard, you'll end up pulling it off.

Is everything all right, Captain Peacock?

It's no use sitting there with your mouth open,

I need to get the thing up and running.

Mr Rumbold, shall I call you back?

Sorry, Stephen, Miss Croft and I are just struggling with my hardware.

I gathered that much.

So, that's all key members of first floor staff

in my office in 20 minutes.

Very good, sir.

Let's leave it there, Miss Croft.

Why don't you have a fiddle with it this afternoon when I have my nap?

Oh!

Glass of water for Mr Grainger.

Finally, I know some of you think I spend my days playing golf and my

nights frequenting West End strip clubs.

And can I just say, I highly recommend it.

But that aside, I do like to keep an eye on my family's department store

from time to time, you know?

Just to prevent it from being run into the ground after nearly 100

years of successful trading.

To do that we need to move with the times.

And of all the departments the first floor is stuck somewhere between the

Roman Empire and the Black Death.

-HE LAUGHS

-That's very good.

I'm going to bring Men's and Ladies' Fashions kicking and screaming into

1988 if it kills me.

Or you, I don't mind which.

And that's all for now.

Any questions, I'll be spending the rest of the day

working my way around the store. Thank you very much.

I don't know about you but I found that hugely inspirational.

Did he say he was going to kill one of us?

Just one thing, Miss Brahms, I can't see your HoD.

I'm not wearing one.

No, I mean your Head of Department, Mrs Slocombe.

-Erm...

-I believe Mrs Slocombe is on an afternoon ten-minute optional recess.

Either that or she's just nipped out for a fag.

Oh, OK, jolly good.

Back to work, everyone.

Stephen, would you mind chumming me back down to the first floor?

I'm a bag of nerves since that death threat from young Mr Grace.

You did what with Mrs Rumbold's dog?

I wouldn't recommend it, but it did the trick.

It stopped the poor little thing from choking to death.

And it stopped my old man nagging at me

to make more effort in trying to find a job.

Well, I've heard of pulling your finger out, but that's ridiculous.

Yeah, they're wicked. I'll take them.

I've got two pairs left in your size.

You want to take them both?

-I'm not sure.

-You're losing him.

I know. I'm trying to close the sale but I'm running out of options.

Wait there, I'll call for backup.

Ooh, great jeans.

-Thanks.

-They're a really good...

What's the word I'm looking for?

Fit.

Yeah, I'll take both pairs.

No problem.

Here we go. How do you like them apples?

Oh, what's this?

It's all the grub from the ground floor, innit?

-Is that caviar?

-It certainly is, my son.

It's not all seafood, is it?

We had a very nasty accident in Yarmouth with a tray of whelks,

a bottle of vinegar and a pair of crotchless tights.

Mother's never been able to look a crustacean square in the face again.

Where has all this food come from?

-Ground floor.

-Well, I'm afraid it will all have to be returned.

Oh, Captain Peacock, please can we have some?

Out of the question.

Food can only be consumed on the shop floor

if part of a recognised promotion.

Well, it's no skin off my nose.

If you don't want it,

I'll be very happy to leave my leftovers

to the overnight security boys.

Just one moment.

Were you asked to throw all this food out, Mr Harman?

Technically, but is there really a difference between throwing it down

the waste chute and throwing it down my gullet?

What a delightful turn of phrase he has.

I must say, Captain Peacock,

it does seem a terrible waste to throw good food away in here.

Oh, please, Captain Peacock.

And anyway, there is a promotion in the store.

Bazooka Brassieres.

And it's dead quiet on the floor.

Very well, I shall allow it.

Nice one.

Mmm, this is lovely, what a treat.

Where's old frosty knickers, then?

She'll be kicking herself if she misses all this.

-HE CHOKES

-Oh!

What is it, Miss Brahms?

It's Captain Peacock, he's choking.

Don't worry, I know what to do!

Miss Brahms, avert your eyes!

Don't be so stupid!

HE GRUNTS

Oh, Captain Peacock, are you all right?

Mr Harman, get all this food off the shop floor immediately,

-do you understand?

-Yes, Captain Peacock.

Oh, Lord, will this day never end?

Mr Grace.

Having a late lunch, Stephen?

Far from it, Mr Grace.

A short first aid demonstration for the younger and less experienced

member of staff.

Less experienced in choking on a whole lobster tail?

I would never doubt the enthusiasm of youth,

but with a senior member of staff on the shop floor one can always

guarantee the three Ds.

Diligence, Duty and Dignity.

Bloody hell!

It's the creature from the Black Lagoon.

What have you done with Mrs Slocombe, you beast?

Mrs Slocombe, where have you been?

Sorry, Captain Peacock, I had a call from Mr Akbar.

He said it was an emergency. The main waste outlet to all the flats

had been bunged up with a build-up of my intimate lady wipes.

There'd been some sort of explosion of waste.

My flat's knee-deep in sewage.

Couldn't you just call a plumber and come back to work?

It's a disaster area, everything is caked in muck.

It'll take a whole bottle of Vosene to clean my pussy.

What did she just say?

Be quiet, Mr Conway.

Mrs Slocombe's cat, Tiddles.

Tiddles? Oh, my God.

Mr Conway, please, a modicum of respect.

Mrs Slocombe wins prizes every time she shows her pussy.

Mrs Slocombe, go and clean yourself up in the staffroom immediately.

I was going to do that,

but I'd been ages and I knew Miss Brahms would be busting for the loo.

She wasn't the only one, by the look of things.

BOTH: Mr Conway!

Miss Brahms, go with Mrs Slocombe, will you?

And when you have fulfilled your ablutions I shall see you upstairs

in Mr Rumbold's office and I can assure you heads are going to roll for this.

And I'll see you in Rumbold's office as well.

Heads are going to roll.

Maybe one more than you think.

Poor Mrs Slocombe.

What a terrible mess.

I can only imagine what an appalling state her pussy is in.

Oh, pull yourself together!

Sorry, Captain Peacock, I hope this isn't a bad time,

but would it be possible for me

to take my ten-minute afternoon optional recess?

I could do with giving my mother's shoes one last stretch.

Oh, just go!

It's like rats leaving a sinking ship.

Thank you, Captain Peacock.

Oh, good afternoon, young man.

-Can I help you?

-Yeah, my mate was in here earlier,

bought some really cool 501s.

-501s?

-Yeah, 501s.

Oh.

Mr Conway, are you free?

Yeah, I am, as it goes.

Hello, mate. Are you being served?

# Ground floor perfumery stationary, and leather goods, wigs

# and haberdashery, kitchenware and food. Going up...

# First floor telephones, gents' ready-made suits, shirts, socks

# ties, hats, underwear, and shoes Going up...

# Second floor carpets, travel goods, and bedding, materials, soft

# furnishings, restaurant and teas Going down...

# First floor telephones, gents ready-made suits, shirts, socks

# ties, hats, underwear and shoes Going up...

# Second floor carpets, travel goods and bedding, material, soft

# furnishings, restaurant and teas Going down! #