Mystic Mo Citizen Khan

Welcome to Sparkhill, Birmingham, the capital of British Pakistan.

They all know me!

You like my suit?

Number one, Citizen Khan.

Morning everyone, and welcome to the Mr Khan Community Leader

Cricket Stadium in Pakistan's fourth largest city...

Birmingham!

And facing Pakistan today...

is the MCC,

the Muslim Cricket Club!

And opening the batting for Pakistan is Mr Khan, community leader,

and opening the bowling for the MCC

is the new cricketing sensation, Baby Mohammad!

CREAKING SOUND

Six! Hey!

Six again! The crowd goes wild!

Ah! Good ball!

There's a shout for LBW.

What's the umpire's decision going to be?

The crowd are waiting in anticipation!

It's a very tense moment out at the middle.

What's the umpire's decision?

Not out!

-Dadda.

-I'm sorry, the umpire's decision is final,

your daddy can't help you now.

Dadda.

No, your daddy's not here.

I'm Grandpa. Mr Khan.

Ring, ring.

-What?

-Ring, ring, Dadda.

What are you talking about?

TELEPHONE RINGS

Hang on, the phone's ringing.

Hello, Mr Khan speaking.

Oh, hello, Amjad. Yes, he's absolutely fine.

I'm talking to your daddy.

Ring, ring, Dadda.

Oh, my God.

You knew?

You knew it was going to be your daddy!

Mohammad, you're psychic.

You're Mystic Mo!

KHAN LAUGHS

Ring, ring, Dadda.

Ring, ring, Dadda.

# I believe in miracles

# Since you came along You sexy thing. #

Where's Mystic...I mean Baby Mo?

Upstairs.

Why?

I need him to help me pick my lottery numbers.

You can't play the lottery, it's gambling, it's not allowed!

Sweetie, it's not gambling

if you've already been told what the result's going to be.

Just like when we bet on the Pakistani cricket team.

Pota, this is Grandpa.

If you think I should pick 12, say "12."

What's wrong with you? He's just a baby.

You're right, I'm being silly.

BABY TALK VOICE Puthar,

if you think I should pick 12, say "Dadda".

Not 12. 13? 14? 22?

Don't disturb him. He's having his nap.

-Ooh.

-Are you OK, my darling?

Yes, I'm fine. It's just...

I've got a bit of a bad tummy.

I bought loads of toilet roll from the cash and carry.

It's not that. It's probably stress.

What are you stressed about?

Did you put your control pants in the hot wash again?

It's Alia.

She's out all the time -

and Shazia's working so hard to save up money to buy a house and...

Sweetie, chillax.

You worry too much.

Here's what you need to do,

think of the biggest source of stress in your life,

the one thing that causes you more trouble than anything else.

Right.

Now, imagine putting it into a big, black bag,

tying up the top

and then burying it deep, deep into hole in the ground.

Right.

Are you doing it?

Yes, I am.

-Doesn't that feel better?

-A bit.

You're lucky you've got me here, huh?

Puthar! What about 37?

BABY CRIES

I told you not to wake him.

It's OK, beta, Granny's coming.

But I only need two more numbers!

And the draw finishes in four hours and 17 minutes.

"Dadda."

17!

Does that mean yes?

-"Dadda."

-Yes!

17!

Excellent.

# I believe in miracles You sexy thing. #

KHAN CLEARS HIS THROAT

-ALIA:

-Papaji! I'm going out, be back later.

Sweetie, Alia, you know how your mother worries.

You're supposed to tell us where you're going

-and what time you'll be back.

-But I did.

-Did you?

Yeah. I'm going "out" and I'll be back "later".

Hmm. Oh, yes.

-Hello, sir.

-Oh, hello, Amjad.

-Where's my little Mo Mo?

-Here he is.

SOMEBODY woke him up.

-Did he mention any more numbers?

-No.

DOORBELL RINGS

That'll be my mummy, she said she was going to meet us here.

Oh, God! Hide the food.

Where is he?

I can't wait to squeeze those lovely, squidgy cheeks...

Keep back! What the hell's wrong with you?

-She means Baby Mo.

-Oh, yes, of course.

He's just playing in his travel cot.

-MRS MALIK:

-I need to give him a great big kiss.

No bloomin' way!

He still hasn't got over the stubble rash from the last one.

And...we've got to finish off our mathematics game.

Well, at least that sounds educational.

And profitable. We're picking lottery numbers!

Hai, hai!

And I see he's still wearing that hideous green top.

How dare you.

I'll have you know that's an exclusive, one of a kind,

replica Pakistani cricket shirt.

It's classy. KHAN CLEARS HIS THROAT

Well, soon we won't have to fight over him any more.

What do you mean?

I've got some good news and bad news.

Oh, I hate good news and bad news!

Which do you want to hear first?

The bad news?

Mr Malik and I are moving away.

He said the BAD news.

Mr Malik has taken early retirement, so we're moving up north,

where the air is so much healthier.

Where's that?

It's a beautiful cathedral city, in the foothills of the Pennines,

just a stone's throw from the Yorkshire Dales.

Oh, you mean Bradford.

Well, yes.

-The air might be healthier, but the rest of it's a complete...

-Let's...

Let's hear the rest of her news!

We're very sorry to hear you're moving away,

we'll keep in touch and I promise we will come and visit,

won't we?

KHAN LAUGHS

Yes, of course we will.

What's the good news?

We want you...to come with us!

What?!

We're going to downsize,

so we've decided to buy Amjad and his family their first house,

just round the corner from our new place.

-No!

-Wow!

Our own house!

-MRS MALIK:

-Yes.

-SHAZIA:

-That's such a kind offer!

We don't know what to say, do we, budhoo?

No.

To be fair, he never knows what to say.

-Say no!

-Mum!

I'm not going to let you take them away from us.

See, this is the problem with this family.

Too much parental interference.

Young people need to be left to stand on their own two feet.

You're buying them a flipping house!

Shazia, you can't move to Bradford!

You love living here, don't you?

In your little house, next to your mummy!

Your mummy who gave birth to you and raised you

and slaved for 20 years to raise you,

sacrificing every dream she had so you could be happy!

Mum, don't do this.

Shazia, we don't want you to move into a brand-new executive home

in the Yorkshire Dales.

You'd be far better off living in a cheap, rented house in Sparkhill,

next to your parents.

It has been great for Mo having you so close,

-but we have to think about the future, don't we, budhoo?

-Yes.

And what do you think, beta? Of the future?

Oh...

Well,

I think we might all travel around with jet packs...

and have robots as our masters.

I mean YOUR future.

Oh, right.

We really want our own house, Mum, and realistically speaking,

this is the only way we're going to get it.

But this is bribery! You're bribing them

just so you can have Baby Mo near you! It's disgraceful!

Shazia, stay here with us. We'll give you the microwave

and your mother's set of plastic furniture covers!

Aargh!

It's all right, I was lying about the covers!

It's the right decision. The child should be closer to us.

No way! He's more ours than yours, anyway.

-What are you talking about?

-Think about it!

He's handsome, intelligent, may have some kind of superpower...

These are all Khan family traits.

What?

It's genetics, isn't it? It's all to do with DNA.

What does DNA stand for again?

Definitely Not Amjad.

Dad!

So, how much more Khan is he?

I don't know. Maybe 95% Khan.

So, he's just a quarter me?

What's that? Like an arm and a leg?

Well, it's not the brain, is it?

Look, the point is, he's a Khan baby, so he should stay here with us.

What a load of rubbish.

Come on, we're going to see a couple of places this afternoon.

No...

Oh, the pain! Ah, ah..

Mrs Khan, are you OK?

She's just trying to guilt me into staying.

Like when I was 11 and she faked a brain haemorrhage

to stop me going for a sleepover.

-Ah...

-Mum...

I understand you're upset,

-but we've got to think of the future.

-Aaaah!

What if she's really ill? Maybe we should call an ambulance.

Yeah. Or I could just Google it?

Such a clever girl! Imam and a doctor!

Does it hurt when she coughs?

MRS KHAN COUGHS AND MOANS

Yes.

Is she experiencing nausea, loss of appetite?

-MRS KHAN:

-Agh!

-Yes.

I wouldn't eat her samosas either!

Well, you've been eating somebody's samosas!

Aah!

You can overdramatise all you like!

They're coming to Bradford with us, and that's final!

Aah!

-SHAZIA:

-Well, according to this, she's got acute appendicitis!

SCREAMING

THEY TALK OVER EACH OTHER

-Calm, on, everybody, come on.

-Oh, shut up! Come on!

Everybody get out, come on.

Ah! Come on, you.

Oh, eh? You see?

At least I'm not the idiot, eh? Come on.

Come on.

Easy.

-Easy.

-We're in bay four.

-Are we all in?

-Yes.

-Jaldi, jaldi!

-So, if you could...

-Eh, with my wife, it's best to let me do the talking, huh?

-I see.

Well, if you can just ask her to pop herself onto the bed.

Pop yourself onto the bed, sweetie...

-TRANSLATION:

-I'll pop you in a minute, you mad man!

We'll just help her up.

-Ooh!

-That's it.

If she can make herself as comfortable as possible.

Make yourself as comfortable as possible, sweetie.

SHE SHOUTS IN URDU

And a doctor will be along very soon to assess her.

Why the hell are you talking to him?

Oh! I thought perhaps you didn't speak English.

Of course I speak English, you stupid woman!

-She does speak English.

-I just swear in Urdu.

SHE SPEAKS URDU

What was that?

I'd rather not say.

But for the record, I think you've got a very nice nose.

Please, can we just see a doctor?

I'm sure it will all be OK.

I had appendicitis once and I was fine,

and after the operation,

I got to eat ice cream for a whole week.

-That's tonsillitis.

-Oh, yes.

It says if gets really bad, the appendix could burst,

and that can lead to infection and even peritonitis,

which in extreme cases may lead to...

-SHAZIA GASPS

-Oh, my God!

-What! What is it?

-My phone's nearly out of charge!

-Ah!

-I'll go and get a doctor.

-Thank you!

-Make it a Pakistani one!

-Dad!

OK, doesn't have to be Pakistani.

Just not Indian, huh?

Or Polish, or Romanian, or Ethiopian, or...

I think perhaps we ought to give you some privacy.

-Why don't Amjad and I take my grandson back to my house?

-No!

-Don't let her take my...

-Don't get yourself excited, sweetie..

She's going to take our grandson away from us!

I don't want to be a long-distance grandparent!

I don't want to miss his first steps, his first words.

His first lottery win.

-You've got to stop her.

-But what about you?

I'll be fine, just stop her.

But how? Amjad is his father, after all.

Just find a way!

Promise me!

Sweetie, you got some skin there!

She is going to take our grandson to Bradford

and turn him into a Malik!

Over my dead body!

But not yours, though, my darling. KHAN CLEARS HIS THROAT

-Just a moment.

-What is it?

He needs his nappy changing, and I'll do it.

-I can't smell anything.

-Oh? No sense of smell?

That'll help you settle in when you move to Bradford.

Come on, Amjad. I need your help.

-I'm not very good at nappies, sir.

-Forget the nappies.

Look, you can't move to Bradford.

They've got enough Pakistanis there already.

But Mummy says that it would be good for me to move out

and to have my own house.

I've got a better idea.

We're going to do a DNA test.

We're going to prove, once and for all

that Baby Mo is a Khan through and through.

-I'm not sure that's a good idea.

-Why not?

I'm not very good at tests, and I haven't brought a pencil.

Amjad, just wait over there with the toys.

I meant with the boy!

Oh, right.

DNA test...

DNA test...

Where is it?

Oh!

I want a DNA test, not do the blooming' washing up!

-Excuse me!

-Hai!

-Are you a doctor?

-What?

-Are you a doctor?

Of course I'm a doctor. I'm Pakistani and I'm in a hospital.

What else could I be?

I'm Doctor Khan. And look...

here's my white coat.

I took it off to go to the loo, you see?

Because my long, bendy thing gets stuck in my buttons.

Oh!

-Sorry, Doctor. I'm new here so I don't know everyone yet.

-No problem.

-You're needed in cubicle seven.

-What?!

-Cubicle seven.

Here we are, Mr Bowyer.

-I've brought Dr Khan to see you.

-Salaam Aleikum.

There's nothing wrong with me, so get out and leave me alone!

Oh, well, that was easy enough!

As you can see, Mr Bowyer is being a little bit difficult.

The next person who touches me is getting a smack in the mouth.

-I think you can take it from here.

-Please, Doctor!

This is Darren Bowyer, 43, he's in a lot of pain,

he's passed out once already and may have dislocated his shoulder.

Mmm. Mmm. That all seems in order.

Don't you want to examine him?

..OK.

-Aargh!

-What do you suggest we should do?

-Well, don't touch that for a start.

-Touch what?

-That.

-Aargh!

-What are you playing at?!

-Maybe you should stop pressing there.

-That was touching. This is pressing.

-Aaargh! Get him off me!

Calm down, sir. Dr Khan knows what he's doing.

What are you doing?

-I'm just getting a second opinion.

-From who?

My colleague. Dr G...Oogle.

Shall I give him pain killers? Organise an X-ray?

All of those things. Plus, we'll do a DNA test.

-A DNA test? Are you sure?

-Of course I'm sure! I'm a bloomin' doctor!

Why do you think I'm wearing this white coat -

because I'm a cricket umpire(?)

-Sorry, Doctor!

-That's OK. Now you're out.

Bye.

Don't worry, it'll all be fine!

Whoops! I nearly did it again there!

Argh! Oh twaddi!

-I'll just put this back up.

-Ohhh!

Put this over there...

BEEPING What's that?!

Oh! Heart attack! He's having a heart attack!

I'll save you!

Come on! Twaddi-twaddi-twaddi-twaddi-twadd...!

Oh, no!

Right! I'll get this.

Over here.

Turn it up to the max.

They do this on Holby Cities!

Ready! Clear!

GROANING

-Will the doctor be here soon?

-Of course they will. Any moment.

Only I've got meet my mates, so...

Fine! I'll call them and tell them I'll be late.

-You can't do that in here. It's a hospital.

-Right! I'll go outside!

See if you can find a doctor!

This is the problem with the NHS.

That's why Mr Malik and I go private.

I can phone my doctor any time, day or night

and he will see me straight away.

-Can't you call him now?

-Hardly. He's on holiday in Barbados.

Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Doctor Shah.

-Oh, thank God. It's my mum.

-Hello there, Mrs...?

-Khan.

-Hello, Mrs Khan. What seems to be the problem?

-Well, Doctor...

-it's my daughters.

-Sorry?

One of them is moving away and she's going to take my grandson

so I'll never see him again.

And the other one is out all hours and she mixes with the wrong crowd!

-Mum! We think she's got appendicitis.

-I see.

-And what makes you think that?

-That's what Alia said.

-And Alia is...?

-The delinquent.

-Right. So she's not medical.

-No. But she is single.

-Are you married?

-Why don't we check on your appendix?

-Is that sore?

-Yes. So you're not married?

-Let's not worry about me.

Alia's a very nice girl really.

Very beautiful. Lovely figure.

Mum, he's not interested in Alia. So what do you think?

-She does sound nice.

-I meant about Mum.

-Right, sorry...

You should meet her, Doctor. I'm sure you'll get on.

This hospital is rubbish. You can't get a signal anywhere... Oh, hi.

-Hello.

-I'm Alia.

-I thought you might be. I'm Kareem.

-I mean Doctor Shah.

-How's Mum?

-Much better.

Ah, there you are! What took you so long?

-How's Mr Bowyer doing?

-He's much better.

-How are we doing now, Mr Bowyer?

-GROANING

"And then the little mouse said, let's go and find our friend..."

Argh!

"..the fox.

"And the fox said, let's go and find our friend..."

Argh!

"..the badger.

-"And the badger said..."

-Amjad.

-Hello, sir.

-Open your mouth.

-What for?

-I need a sample for the DNA test.

-But you're not a doctor.

Neither are you, but we got over that.

-Now, open wide...

-No.

-Amjad!

What's the next page in your book?

-Argh!

-Thank you.

-Now, where's baby Mo?

-He's over there sleeping.

-He doesn't like these books.

-We need to get him swabbed!

We won't wake him.

That's it.

Here, take this to be tested double quick.

I hear the Jeremy Kyle show's in town and I want to beat the rush!

Sweetie! It's all OK. I've taken care of everything.

Where's she gone?

Urrgh. It smells like something died in here!

-Mrs Khan!

-No!

-She must have passed away before they could operate!

-Oh, my God!

-They tried to save her but there was nothing they could do!

No! It can't be!

Why?! Why did this happen?!

It's all my fault!

I should have taken more care of you.

Like when I refused to turn up the heating.

How could I have been so mean?!

Although I did buy you those thermal socks which you refused to wear.

Don't blame yourself, sir.

No, I should blame myself.

I'm a bad husband. I didn't appreciate her enough.

I didn't tell her I loved her enough.

You didn't buy her nice presents on her birthday.

-All right, Amjad.

-Sorry, sir.

It can't be! Not my little gulab jamun.

Not my sweetie sweetie twinkle binkle!

Is everything all right?

-He's a bit upset because Mrs Khan's just died.

-No, she hasn't.

-She's been discharged.

-What?

It wasn't appendicitis, it was trapped wind.

That explains the smell.

Thank you, God!

Who's sweetie sweetie twinkle binkle?

Nobody! Shut up. Let's go!

-Here we are.

-Thank you, beti. And thank you for the lift home.

Well, I wasn't going to sit there waiting for your husband.

God knows what he's up to.

-How are you feeling, Mum?

-Much better.

The doctor said there was nothing wrong with her.

No, he said she was stressed.

He said I have to stop bottling everything up inside.

I've got to let it all go.

Well, you certainly managed to do that.

-At least you don't need to worry about Alia any more.

-Huh?

How's it going with Doctor Kareem?

So I'm like, "SOMY, smiley face," and he's like "No way! CUIMD,"

so I go, "NIICUF," and he's all, "FBM hashtag Freddy Krueger!"

It means he likes her.

Well, soon you won't have to worry about Shazia and Baby Mo

-because they'll be with us in Bradford.

-No!

Where is my grandson anyway?

-THROAT BEING CLEARED LOUDLY >

-That's them.

-Let me see my grandson.

-No, he's sleeping.

And he's not your grandson. He's my grandson. Mine and Mrs Khan's.

That was a close thing -

-you almost got lumbered with the Pakistani Addams Family!

-Rubbish.

Keep out of it, Uncle Fester-ji!

This baby is more Khan than Malik, and I can prove it.

-What are you talking about?

-I have here the results of a DNA test

which clearly shows the percentage of Malik DNA in this baby is...

-zero.

-What!

-Oh, my God!

I knew it! 100% Khan!

Dad, that's impossible. All babies are genetically 50/50.

-Half mum, half dad.

-But, then, what does that DNA test mean?

I think we all know.

-Shazia, tell them Amjad is the father of that baby.

-I can't.

-Why not?

-Because he isn't.

-Oh, my God!

Amjad's not his father and I'm not its mother.

Because this isn't our baby!

They were both wearing the same shirt, how was I supposed to know?

Ah, here he is!

A bit tacky.

Here's your one. And try not to lose him.

We gave him some samosas, so you might need to change his nappy.

-It's fine, it's all sorted.

-Oh, thank God he's all right.

Now there can be no more argument.

The further away from this house baby Mohammad is,

the safer he's going to be!

-You idiot! You were supposed to stop her taking him away!

-Sweetie!

If you're going to get stressed again, at least let me open a window.

Don't talk to me!

Look, my darling, I'm sorry about the baby mix-up.

And the DNA test.

But, in the end, it makes sense for them to move.

They'll have their own house.

A foot on the property ladder.

I know, but...

And we can see Baby Mo every day on the Skype and the Facetime.

Wait, do they have computers in Bradford?

But what about MY baby?

What about Shazia? She's never been away from us.

Sweetie, she's got her own life now. We have to let her live it.

I suppose you're right.

And Alia will be going to university soon.

They've grown up so quickly.

It seems like only yesterday they were in pigtails,

doing shows for us in the front room.

Our own little Pakistani Little Mix.

But we can't hold on to them forever.

Shazia, your mother and I have decided

to give you, Amjad and Baby Mo our blessing to move.

After all, if Bradford won't come to Mohammad,

then Mohammad must go to Bradford.

We're not going.

-What?

-I told Mrs Malik we won't be moving to Bradford.

Oh, my God! Oh, thank God!

After everything that's happened today,

I realised we can't leave Sparkhill.

Is that because you need your mother's help looking after the baby?

Because she needs our help looking after you.

But what about your house and a place of your own?

Maybe Dad can help us out when he wins the Lottery.

The Lottery! I forgot to buy my ticket!

These were going to be the winning numbers.

-What, because Baby Mo told you?

-Exactly!

Come on, come on, they must be here somewhere...

Dad, he's an amazing little boy. But he's not psychic. You do know that.

4, 8, 17, 25, 29, 34... Oh, twaadi-i-i!