A Day Out Porridge

.

Norman Stanley Fletcher, you have pleaded guilty, and I will now pass sentence.

You are a criminal who accepts arrest as an occupational hazard,

and presumably accepts imprisonment in the same casual manner.

We therefore commit you to the maximum term for these offences. You will go to prison for five years.

Oh, yeah? What's all the rush? Getting released today, are ya?

-Nah. Been looking forward to today.

-What's happening today?

Only one good thing about a new day here it replaces the old one.

We're going out today! Trees, walking on grass, sound of birds...

Don't get so flaming lyrical, Wordsworth!

We're only digging drainage ditches for the council.

Stooped over a shovel, doing a job only prisoners do,

'cos a respectable geezer would tell 'em to stuff it.

I don't care what we do. It's a whole day out!

You're like a kid on a school trip.

You don't fool me, Fletcher. You just MASK your enthusiasm.

-If you're so indifferent, why did you bribe your way in?

-Yeah, well...

-Yeah, well(!)

I admit I'm looking forward to it. Get the smell of disinfectant out me nostrils.

Not to mention your festering feet!

-I change my socks every day.

-Yeah? Pity you can't change your feet!

I don't mention YOUR personal habits.

What personal habits? I don't HAVE any.

-You have.

-I haven't.

-Yes, you have!

-I haven't!

-You HAVE!

-Like what?

You talk with your mouth full. You whistle out of tune. You snore, spit...

How DARE you! I do NOT whistle out of tune!

You've got a flamin' nerve! This is supposed to be a single cell. Mine!

You've got a nerve talking about MY habits. You, who was dragged up in a back street!

I had a good upbringing. We didn't have money, but we were spotless.

You ain't NOW! You're covered in gravy stains. So don't give me stick about manners!

Everyone at our table is. It's YOUR gravy! I told you, you talk with your mouth full.

-I'm warning you...!

-You're doing it again! I'm covered in toothpaste.

Cheeky young nerk!

Don't let's fall out.

We don't want to spoil things THIS early. Today's a big day.

Not THAT big. It ain't a trip to Southend.

A wander up the pier. A nosh-up and reduced rates at the local knocking shop.

No.

All we're gonna do, is go across some moor to some village, to dig drains for the council.

With the remote possibility that a district nurse might cycle by and give us a glimpse of stocking.

A woman... A woman on a bicycle...

-I said "might".

-No, I can see her. Plain as day.

..In her uniform. On her bicycle.

Yeah. Some old spinster with brogues and bike-rider's buttocks.

No. She's young, Fletch. And nice-looking.

Well, more than that. Beautiful.

And the uniform can barely conceal the voluptuous figure within.

-Voluptuous figure within, is it?

-Which her uniform cannot conceal.

Barely.

Her face is both innocent and knowing.

Oh, yeah... I know them innocent faces...

-Primitive passions stir deep within her breast.

-It's a deep one?

-Definitely.

What's this deep-breasted, voluptuous bit of nookey doing HERE?

-She's nursing her dad, who's got a fatal disease.

-Fatal, is it? That can kill you!

-She gave up the bright lights out of duty.

-She would.

-She could've been a cover girl or a model, chased by Arab playboys.

-Instead of which...

She returns to nurse her dad and tries to subdue these primitive stirrings all the time.

Until fate decrees that she gets a puncture right opposite the drain I'm digging.

I saw her first!

Naff off! Age before beauty.

I pick her up and dust her off. Not failing to notice the prim, firm contours of her body.

She's sprained her perfect ankle, so I pick her up,

and I carry her across several miles of ploughed sludge.

Until finally we walk into her lonely cottage, just the two of us.

Thrown together as night falls.

-Where's her dad?

-He's dead.

It's just her and me, alone together.

She pours a drink after slipping out of her uniform, slip, slop...

Then she makes some food, and I eat while we talk...

-There you go.

-What?

-Talking with your mouth full.

-How did you manage to get onto this? Bribe a lot of people in high places?

-Now, listen!

-You're not a working man.

-Listen!

-I'm a working man, always have been.

Stoker. Paid my dues.

Tankers. Persian Gulf. Big sweat, I'll tell you!

Listen, Navyrum. I do my wack.

I had a job once. With a road gang on a motorway.

Nothing job, that was. Lived in a caravan with the wife and kids. Worked in mud, came home to mud.

Should feel at home today!

-Allo, Fletch!

-Gentlemen. All right, Scrounger?

-What's this conniving little runt doing on this work party?

-Listen!

Can't shovel his PEAS without getting tennis elbow!

-I'll do my share.

-He's a skiving git!

-That's just what he is. And how are you?

-All right.

-This is my cellmate, Lenny Godber.

-Hello, son.

-Me and Navyrum were in Maidstone. One day he'll let you read his tattoos.

-Who are we waiting for?

-Dylan.

-That lazy anarchist nerk?

What a bunch! A seven-stone weakling and the King of the Huddersfield Hippies.

-Hello, Dylan.

-Hey, man, my name's Melvyn. What's this "Dylan" scene?

It's affectionate, not malicious. You see, you do remind us of Dylan.

-BOB Dylan?

-No, the hippy rabbit on the "Magic Roundabout".

-I'm not a hippy!

-You're the nearest thing we've got.

You wear an earring. You were thrown out of art school. AND you've tie-dyed your uniform.

Man!?

-So you watch "The Magic Roundabout"?

-Yeah. There's nothing else to watch.

"Magic Roundabout"?

It's given innocent people a lot of pleasure!

And us guilty people too!

-Simple pleasures are important.

-Like this day out.

It'll be great... The grass and flowers.

You should join our botany club. I run it during the summertime.

We go out and explore the natural phenomena of our countryside.

We'll explore the natural phenomena of our nurse!

Which nurse? She's MINE. He stole her. What're we waiting for?

Mr Mackay.

-Scotland the Brave? Is HE coming?

-He's in charge.

-Git. Pig.

-Anarchist nerk.

-What's going on?

-Mr Mackay. We've just voted you Man of the Year!

On your feet, all of you.

-None of your lip.

-You'll get none today.

Now!

As this work party is composed of such a spineless, delinquent rabble,

let's make a few things crystal clear.

There will be no skiving, no fraternising with the public, no kipping.

And no visits to the pub, masquerading as Irish labourers working on a mythical motorway!

Clear?

-Any questions?

-I've got a question.

Is the ball and chain worn inside or outside the boots?

THEY CHEER

ALL SHOUT LECHEROUSLY

Quiet, the lot of you! Get on with it!

Ives! Put some effort into it!

Everyone's getting at me. I'm doing my share.

You'd have us in chains, wouldn't you?

With the greatest of pleasure.

-Pig!

-Did you speak, Bottomley?

-I told Fletcher to DIG.

-Who are you calling a pig?

-You watch it!

-Can we sing?

-Sing?

-What've we got to sing about?

It'd help. Like the negro slaves on the plantations in the deep South.

THEY sang.

Work songs. Kept their spirits up.

We're in a gang, like THEM.

If you chuck much more mud about, we'll LOOK like 'em, too!

We used to sing in the Gulf. Stoking. We sang opera.

# My tiny feet are frozen,

# Won't you warm them next to mine?

# Da-da, da-da-a-a... #

-Oh, dear, oh, dear!

-There will be no singing.

Thank Gawd for that!

Now! I'm just, er...

..popping down to the village to get some...parts for my lawnmower.

So, er, take charge.

-You'll not be long, will you?

-You're perfectly capable, man!

But there's a lot of them, and only one of me.

Pull yourself together, Mr Barrowclough!

THE MEN CHEER

-Where's he going?

-He's after the nurse. He's not as fussy as us.

Now, listen.

Now, let's knuckle down.

My approach may not be as rigid as Mr Mackay's,

but there's work to be done and it's my job to see that you do it.

There'll be no slacking, shirking, or taking advantage of my good nature.

..Right?

ALL: Right, Mr Barrowclough.

THEY ALL START CHATTING

It's great, this, innit, Fletch?

Being out.

Yeah, makes a change. But I wish there was more to write home about.

Beautiful pub down the road... Wouldn't half like to be in there...

Or popping to the village shop for some sweets and a Reveille.

-Ain't possible.

-It's been done...

Now, come on, men. You've had a nice, long smoke break. Let's get back.

You shouldn't smoke in here, really.

We've got to sit somewhere. We can't sit on that damp grass. It's bad for your...

You could sit on the earth you dig. Form little piles.

That's what worries me the piles.

Really! Come on!

We must get back. One, two, three... We're one short. Where's Ives?

-He's desecrating holy ground.

-What do you mean?

Having a slash in the churchyard.

IVES SCREAMS WITH PAIN

-I've been stung.

-How much did they charge you?

-Was it a bee?

-How do

-I

-know? I'm not a zoologist!

-Could be a wasp, or a hornet.

-It makes a lot of difference. A different degree of poison.

-It was big.

-A hornet. Fatal.

-What do you mean?

Let's see. Oh, dear, yeah.

Tell you what, gents. If someone don't suck the poison out...

..poor old Ives is gonna die.

-You're gonna die, Ives.

-Listen! That's not funny.

-Don't joke.

He's in distress. It's probably just a gnat bite.

-I could DIE! OOH!

-The spasms are coming on.

-Permission to make a suggestion, Mr Barrowclough.

-What?

We need some TCP or ointment. Then we need a volunteer to rub it on.

-I could go to the village to get some.

-AHEM..!

-Go to the village?

-I'd go if it was a mercy mission.

Well, if you went straight there and back...

Certainly! A man's life may be a stake.

-I'll need money for the antibiotics.

-I've only got a pound.

-That'll do.

Come on, Mr Barrowclough. Time is of the essence. A man's life is at stake.

Every second counts!

Thank you, sir. You look as though you need it. >

I haven't had one for ages. I've got an ulcer.

I'm not supposed to drink. But occasionally I have a little sip.

Fill her up, will you?

-And six packets of crisps, please.

-With an ulcer?

-No, cheese and onion.

No...I mean... They'renotforME,you see.

-They're for thelads.

-Lads?

The lads that are... workingonthemotorway.

Motorway?

The new bypass.

-I've not heard of a new bypass.

-No.

I've only just heard of it myself.

But that's outrageous. Thearea'sNational Trust.

-What would we needabypassfor?

-Don't ask me.

I only work here. I'masconcernedas you are.

Despoiling our land. CourseI'm worried. That's how I got my ulcer.

-Morning, all.

-Did you hear the thunder?

It's gonna pi... It's gonna pelt down in a minute.

-Have you heard, Vicar?

-Heard what?

-They're building a bypass.

-Where?

-Over the back there.

-Why? There's nothing TO bypass. Except the prison.

What prison's that?

600 criminals on our doorstep!

-Now, now. They're serving their penance.

-It's public revenge an eye for an eye, a tooth for a nail.

We must be tolerant. Without being pious we must keep an open mind.

My mind, like my church, is always open.

"More joy in heaven over one sinner that relenteth..."

-Repenteth. Indeed! Would you like...?

-Thank you.

-Same again, please.

-Oh.

Fine. Do the honours, Frank.

I was going to ask if you'd bring your chums to evensong on Sunday.

What? Er...

-Don't...

-No, I was just standing... I was...er...

The trouble is we may not be able to get out...over...across...

I tell you what, we'll come if we're free, all right?

-Ta. Cheers.

-Cheers.

Here's a different view. Morning, Mr Mackay.

Morning, Mr Mackay. Morning, Mr Mackay.

-A different view to what?

-To our friend...

He's vanished.

I'll have a whisky and a pint chaser.

-Are you on duty?

-Only half on duty.

-I've got a work party down the road.

-Work party?

-Yes, they're digging ditches.

-Prisoners?

-Yes.

Verger, why don't you pop down to the church?

-But it's going to pour!

-You've got your bike.

-Pop down and lock the church.

-Why?

You heard him there's a bunch of criminals loose in the area!

SHEEP BAAS INDIGNANTLY

This one was done in South America Chile.

It's a religious country hence the religious overtones.

What's her name? Daphne. That doesn't sound very Chilean.

No, she was from Bootle. She was stranded there with a juggling act.

I'm from the 'Pool, so we got on. Hence the affectionate overtones.

"I'll always..." Not out loud in here!

What are you still doing in here?

We heard the thunder and Navyrum said we were due for a heavy storm him having been in the Navy, he knew.

Where's the ointment?

Oh, the ointment. Well...I'll tell you...

Come on, Fletch, this is killing me!

The thing about the ointment is... that the shop was shut for lunch.

-But it's only 11.30!

-Well, they shut early because they get up so early.

Come on, my backside's ablaze!

-Stick it in the font!

-I could die!

-Oh, dear. Anyone know the burial service?

-I buried a bloke at sea.

-That's OK there's a reservoir up the road.

This day's turning into a disaster.

Come on, the storm's passed over. Let's get that ditch finished.

Crafty nerk! You've been to the pub!

-You have!

-All right, you don't think I'd forget my chums?

-Cheers, Fletch.

Not you special diet for bee stings.

That'll put hair on your legs.

Is all this out of my pound?

Yes, that's your special lot there, Mr Barrowclough.

On behalf of us all, I thank you for this magnaminous gesture.

ALL SHOUT THANKS

Now we've got some protein, we can dig.

We've done precious little digging this morning! Come on!

Come on, Ives, you're not dead yet.

-That's funny, this door's stuck.

-Let's have a look.

It's not stuck, it's locked.

Someone's stolen my bike. I bet it's one of your lot.

Nonsense!

My lot are hard at it. Without my say so they wouldn't dare move.

All right, you lot!

They've scarpered!

The vestry door's locked as well. There's no other way out.

Why don't we break a window?

You what? These windows are 400 years old, you nerk!

This is a church! Ain't you got no reverence? You're a PALESTINE, that's what you are!

-A PHILISTINE, I think you mean.

-That depends whether you're Jewish or not.

Why don't we ring the bell?

Oh, no. They never use this bell, you see.

It's ancient, like the tower.

The last time it rang was to warn the villagers of marauding Scots.

-Marauding Scots, was it?

-That would have been in the 16th century.

The rascals used to come over the border

pillaging crops, stealing cattle...and ravishing the women...

That bell would put the wind up a few vests!

They'd flee with their possessions strapped to their Vauxhall Vivas.

Some of the women would probably stay though!

Don't be flippant, Fletch. Can't you think of something? You're in for breaking and entering.

"Entering" is the operative word. I've never broken out of nowhere.

We get one day out of nick and what happens? We get locked in!

Chief Officer Barrett? Mackay here, sir.

Mackay!

Something has occurred, sir, which I think needs your attention...

-Just down here, are they?

-Not any more.

-You should have put out a full-scale alert!

-I still think your judgment is impaired.

I'm not making a fool out of Slade, nor burdening the tax-payers with an alert until I've verified the facts.

See? There you are, Mr Barrett. I told you. I told you, didn't I?

ALL: Afternoon, Mr Barrett. Afternoon, Mr Mackay.

Good afternoon, Mr Barrett. Mr Mackay. All present and correct, sir.

Pull yourself together, Mr Mackay.

I have been dropped in it, Fletcher, have I not? And from a great height.

I'm sorry to hear that, Mr Mackay. Can we help?

When I'm in it, Fletcher, I absorb it with a stiff upper lip.

You would if you're in it up to here!

I absorb it with cool Celtic calm,

-and then I relieve my frustrations by making sure everyone else suffers.

-Pardon?

-SUFFERS!

-That's not fair!

-Fair?

-It wasn't our fault we got locked in.

-We'd still be there if it wasn't for that funeral.

What were you doing in the church if you weren't skiving?

Taking advantage of Mr Barrowclough's laxity.

-I didn't know Mr Barrowclough suffered from laxity.

-Poor fellow.

-Godber!

-Sir.

-Don't imagine you'll be excluded from my spiteful resentments.

Over the next weeks you will both suffer some terrible indignities.

Your feet, Fletcher,

will not touch the floor.

-I'm not a mealy-mouthed liberal,

-I

-HARBOUR grudges!

-He means it.

-Yeah, well.

-It was worth it though, wasn't it?

-It certainly was, son.

Yes. A day out. A bag of crisps.

A few beers...for some of us.

Old Ives in agony and Mackay dropped right in it. We did all right.

-You did better than most, Fletch.

-Naturally.

-I got something out of the day myself.

-Oh, yeah? What?

Something I nicked from the church.

It's a surplice.

You STOLE...from a church?

Yeah. It's the only place you can get them.

What do you want it for anyway?

This will satisfy a need I've had for a very long time.

What's that?

It's to protect me when you talk with your mouth full!

Subtitles by Alison Roberts and Sue Walker 1992