Job Still Game

Right, who are we giving our possessions to today?

I am not going into Age Aid. That woman is a nightmare.

She's as deef as a post and a rude cow intae the bargain.

She blames ye cos she cannae hear ye. Thinks yer mumblin'.

I had to shout at the top of ma voice, "It's a jumper!"

And The Home Start Trust, you can forget that

because she is a snooty Nazi cow.

Rejecting stuff from yer bag. "No, no".

Oh, aye, been there and done that.

"There's a pair of trousers for your charity, dear, cheery-by!"

"Hold your horses! Have these trousers been laundered?"

"Naw, hen, of course not. I took a dump in them this morning and just thought,

"I'll bring them up here, save me washing them!"

"And if you hold the zipper up to yer beak,

"you'll detect the unmistakable whiff of pish."

"Get them washed, get them hung up

"and get on with yer charity work, ya Hitler bastard."

That's my wee stable all set out.

All powdered off with white pepper.

Delicious!

Oh, racing...on.

FAINT COMMENTARY

You can shut up, for a start.

You'll no be ruining my wee self party with your free boiler,

or accident that I havenae claimed for,

or yer, indeed, your PPI pish.

And that goes for you an' all.

I'm no' interested in you.

For, you are a Manila envelope...with a window in it,

which I have no intention of keeking into.

No joy has ever come of your kind.

-So, it's the cat charity again, eh?

-Aye, where is that?

Up there, sure. Next to the suntan place.

-The suntan place?

-Aye, there.

Browned Furra Pound.

Oh, aye.

So, what ye givin' them?

Shirt. Still in the wrapper.

John sent it over about ten Christmases ago.

It's no use. It's too big. It's enormous!

It's for a big, bubble-bodied, fat fella.

17.5 collar.

That would do me. And I love maroon.

Wish you health to wear it. What have you got?

Eh? Oh, aye, um...this.

It's a monkey smoking a fag. It's hideous, intit?

I mean, what clown would gie ye that as a gift?

-I got you that.

-Did ye?

-Aye. Give it to me, I'll take it.

If I'm honest, I bought it fur myself, but yer birthday rolled up.

Is that a tray?

Aye. It's got a map of Loch Lomond on it.

-Oh! I love maps!

-Haud the bus. What are you gein me for it?

Er...

Recorder. It's Fiona's. She was red rotten at it.

It's fae Alicante.

You say Alicante, I say AliCAN.

To me! I'll get that learned.

HE PLAYS A TUNE

A spoon?

A-huh, that's right, yes.

It's for jam or sugar or salt, etc.

It's from Troon.

Oh, I see that.

And the stuff in the bags, is that for us?

-No, no, no.

-No, no, no, no, no.

No, this is good stuff. Naw, it's just the spoon today.

So there ye have it.

The spoon for stirring tea, or coffee,

or cod liver oil if you're no well.

I'm across how a spoon works.

The cats will be very grateful.

Are ye no wantin' it, like?

Hi, Jack. Victor.

Oh, hello, Mick. You're no still living underneath that bridge?

Aye. Under the bridge, like a mad troll, man.

Oh, here, do you want a spoon?

Oh! Haud on, ya daftie!

(You cannae offer a recovering junkie a spoon!)

-How no?

-(He'll use it...for the junk!)

Oh, aye, eating a big jar of junk.

(They don't eat junk oota jar, Jack.

(They cook it, on a spoon!)

-Cookin' up junk on ma wee Troon spoon?

-(Aye!)

Listen, son, you were going to get a good spoon,

but yer no getting it noo because of yer behaviour.

Nae danger, man.

Listen, hen, put that away oot the road, safe.

Thank you. Can I help you?

-I'm wanting this suit.

-A-huh.

Thing is, it's £6 and I've only got £2.

-Would you take two?

-No.

Eh, marvellous, eh? Charity begins at home(!)

It is a charity, but it's also a business.

We sell things for charity.

The suit's £6. £6 in our till is a big help.

Well, how about this, then?

If we buy something at £4, will you let him have that suit for £2?

-Yes.

-What have you got that's £4?

£4, please. It's a multipurpose spoon from Troon.

FAINT COMMENTARY

Ya bastard!

Y-a-a-a-a-ah!

Four-a-half grand?!

For a daft parking ticket?!

What did ye dae, shoot a traffic warden?

You don't even have a car.

Well, I did have a car, for about a fortnight.

1985. That's when I got the ticket.

It's just ran up and noo they're comin' efter me.

What are you gonnie dae?

Well, the letter says,

"If you are unable to pay,

"the council shall endeavour to recoup the goods,

"chattel or possessions amounting to the recovery of the debt."

Well, that'll be the first £3 paid back.

Och shoosh! That's no the thing.

I've got three weeks to pay, or it's a custodial sentence.

-The jail?

-The pokey?

The bumhole buffet?

That cannae be right.

It is right. Read it and weep.

Wow, Winston, that letter is a downer.

However...this one is an upper.

My invitation to receive the Glasgow Good Citizen Civic Medal.

Oh, aye, for cooking Pete the Jakey's breakfast every morning

oot the goodness of your heart.

-He doesnae have a heart.

-Pipe doon.

A-hem!

"Why are you receiving this award?

"Because you have exemplified a kindness or selflessness..."

-You're oot o' bog roll, Boabby.

-Use newspaper, ya twat.

"In other words, your altruism and graciousness..."

Can I get another wee splash of cola in there, Boabby?

There's cola in it already, ya greedy old dick.

"...has, above and beyond,

"marked you as a citizen of great standing."

-Boabby, can I...?

-No, you cannae, ya miserable ratbag.

"And, for these esteemed qualities, we salute and reward you."

The Glasgow Good Citizen's Civic Medal?

Are you sure it's no the Black-Hearted Bawbag Barman Medallion?

Or the Distinguished Doolally Dickpiece Deadbeat Decoration?

Great, eh?

I get a £4,500 parking ticket and he gets a medal.

Huh! That's both stones firmly kicked.

Oh, and there's a plus-one.

Who's comin' wi' me?

Eh? Oh, no, I'm, er...I'm washing my moustache that day.

I'm, er...I'm givin' him a hand.

What aboot you, Isa? Or are you busy washing your moustache?

-Heh! Um...

-Tell him your washing your beard.

Boabby! That would lovely, but the thing is, erm...

Well...?

I cannae go because you'll need somebody to cover for you here at The Clansman!

Hee-hee-hee!

Well, otherwise that would have been lovely.

Boabby, I'll ignore the fact that you've asked everybody else,

but can I put forward my case for being your plus-one?

As you all know, I've been in financial trouble myself a couple of times.

Gracious me, I am noo. Huh-huh!

I'm what they call a borderline case.

Freddie Foodbank, if you will.

And it's for that reason

that I appreciate the charity that you showed Pete.

You deserve that medal.

And I would be honoured to be there to see you receive it.

Because you are one hell of a fella, Boabby.

One hell of a fella.

Thanks, Winston.

I'd be delighted to have you there.

Honoured to be there?

-A-huh.

-A helluva fella?

A helluva gormless fella.

I've just got an invite to the inside of the City Chambers.

-Right.

-Where they have a lovely ballroom for awards upstairs.

-And?

-And the fines and parking department downstairs!

Riddle me this, Batman.

Off you go, Alfred.

-Who's Alfred?

-The butler.

-Whose butler?

-Batman's butler!

-Naw, I'm no the butler.

-If yer no going to go Alfred,

the only other people you can be is Robin or Batgirl.

Well, I've neither the tights for Robin, nor the tits for Batgirl.

No, I'm the Riddler, so riddle me this!

-Well, go wi' it!

-The question I'm asking is,

is Boabby an arsehole who became charitable,

or is he a charitable man who masquerades as an arsehole?

Ah. Is he a benevolent man that covers it with a mask

-and cape of arseholiness?

-Exactly.

Naw. I reckon he's a fully-paid-up, card-carrying arsehole.

Aye, he's an arsehole.

Yer no the Riddler, yer the Penguin.

Oh. Am I?

Weah, weah, weah, weah, weah!

Watch the tea, Jack!

THEY CHUCKLE

DOORBELL

Oh.

-Oh, Mick!

-Jack.

What can I do for you, son?

I wanted to say thanks for giving us a dig-oot with the suit.

Aye, nae problem, son, aye, aye.

Just oot of curiosity, what did you need the suit for?

Yer no in trouble, are ye?

Naw, quite the opposite.

I've got an interview for a job.

Oh, that's marvellous, eh?

Well, so you're wanted kitted oot?

Suit, shirt, tie, shoes, the lot, eh?

De ye think I'll need all that? It's only a daft office job.

Now, listen to me, ye young dumper.

You go for that interview, right, and then later on, they say,

"Who do we like for this?"

And the gaffer pipes up, "I liked the boy with the suit."

But the assistant says, "Who was that wi' the suit?"

He says, "The boy wi' the suit, sure,

"and the manky shirt and the rotten flip-flops.

"He's the boy for us".

It's no going to work son, is it?

You don't need that other stuff.

"It is only with the heart we can see fully,

"what is essential is invisible to the eyes."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery, 1940.

There or thereabouts.

Right. What size are your shoes?

-10.

-Ah, you're pumped. I'm a 12.

Ah, I'm a 9.

Haud on. Two pair of socks and a pair of ma shoes.

What about a pair of my Colin's? He's a 10.

Have you still got some of Colin's stuff?

Aye. There's tons there.

It's been lyin' there since he went to the university.

I can gie ye shoes, shirt and a tie an' all!

Well, there ye go. That's smashin'. Thanks, Isa.

What de ye think?

You guys have got it good, living up here,

wi' a talking letterbox that gies ye stuff.

-Eh?

-Mad hoose wi' a magic door.

Aye, it's pure Pixar, innit?

It's a woman!

Right.

Nice to meet ye, Missus.

For God's sake! This is oor neighbour, Isa.

Hello, son.

Noo, I've also got a nice overcoat there you could use

for if the weather's bad.

Thanks. Haud on, but, I might no need a coat.

What will the weather be like on Monday, magic door?

Can you be quiet, please? This is a library!

Chattering away like a couple of budgies!

I couldnae hear a thing.

Aye, well, they were deafening me.

Noo, the way I see it, Winston, when I click on this button,

I'll be an accessory, aiding and abetting ye.

I like a bet as well, Shug. I'm always betting.

No, no, no, no' betting, abetting.

Look, Shug, this is an ancient, lousy parking ticket

-that over the years has turned intae Bigfoot.

-Ah.

We get in there, we find the cave where Bigfoot lives,

"Oh, hello, ya big £4,500 hairy Sasquatch pain in the arse!"

Blammo!

-No' crime, a hunt!

-That's right, Shug.

And what are we if not hunting men?

And Sasquatch is the parking ticket?

-Yes!

-Aye, OK.

Aye.

Bingo! That's you.

What am I looking at?

Well, that's the original drawings for the City Chambers, 1885.

See, there's yer roof layout,

there's your ballroom, that's where you'll be.

Watching Boabby getting his stupid badge.

Aye, well, you excuse yourself,

you're...you're needing a pish or some such.

Cut through the kitchen, along the corridor.

The traffic fines office is behind that,

and that's where we need to be.

So, what do we need - torches, glasscutters?

Possibly, what, welding gear of some description?

Gelignite! Will we need geli?

The only jelly you'll be getting is after yer dinner, ya fat clown.

Cut down the fire stairs, let me in the back door.

4:30 on the button. Boom!

Call me a fat clown!

Do you think there will be jelly?

He's had a shower and everything. Wait till you see him.

It wis very good of ye feeding the boy like that, Isa.

-Sorry?

-I said, it wis very good of ye feeding the boy like that.

Do you know something, Isa?

That's probably that boy's first square meal in God-knows-how-long.

-Good on ye.

-He's a lucky lad.

He's a lucky, lucky lad.

Aye, well, he's welcome.

Right, youse ready?

Oh, come on in, son!

Oh, the big reveal, eh!

It's like one of they makeover shows!

-Oh!

-Oh!

-Look at that!

Shining like a new penny.

Aye. You, boy, are ready for that job interview.

-Oh! No, no, no.

-No, no.

Oh, dear!

Good of you to see us at short notice like this, Cammy.

No problem.

Not long now.

So, operating out o' the hoose now, eh?

Aye, since I got struck off.

You pull four teeth out the wrong person and everybody gangs nuts.

I mean, how was I supposed to know

she was the girl out the toothpaste advert?

So, are you still allowed to use gas, Cammy?

Well, I'm not going to chuck it out.

I've got a garage full of it!

Gas, man!

I've never had gas before.

Hee-hee-hee!

You feelin' OK, Mick?

Tae be honest wi' ye, a wee bit depersonalised.

Mebbe even de-realised.

Also feeling high levels of suggestibility and imagination,

but overall, a slight dizziness

blanketed in a deep-rooted euphoria.

Get yersels tanked up wi'it, it's aff its nut! Ha!

Do you want to try some, lads?

-No, no.

-No, no.

Hey, look at that!

-When's that fae?

-I dunno, but it cost three-and-six.

-"At home with James Dean."

-THEY CHUCKLE

Look at this!

"Engelbert Humperdinck celebrates his 27th birthday in style."

"Jackie O's stunning new wardrobe ahead of Dallas trip."

"Why the ladies love Liberace."

Right, that's you, son.

Got any mouthwash?

Here, rinse with that.

Right. So that's you sorted for your interview tomorrow.

What time's it at?

4:30. How am I looking?

Like the 2:30 favourite at Cheltenham. Come on.

HE INHALES

-What's wrong wi' you?

-I'm just a wee bit nervous.

What have you got to be nervous about? It's me that's getting the medal.

I'm nervous for you.

All the chat and all that.

-Who we'll be sittin' wi' and everything.

-Oh, gies peace!

There, we're there, Table Four.

Right, er... Hm! I'm needing the toilet.

You go and get yourself settled and I'll get ye in there in five.

Come on, we're due in there noo. Move yer arse!

There will be jelly, right?

-Winston?

-What?!

What is it wi' you and that watch?

I'm just anxious to get to the toilet.

Will you sit a bloody minute until people sit down?

Hi. I'm Boabby.

Hi, I'm Rachel. Are you winning something tonight?

I am indeed.

This must be the winners' enclosure.

What are you receiving your award for?

Oh, I, er...looked after a homeless guy for, um...quite some time.

-You?

-Myself and Caroline jumped into the Maryhill Canal

and saved a man from drowning.

Firefighter. Art school.

I quit my job and went around Eastern Europe for two years

with a puppet show that I performed for children orphaned by war.

I'm his plus-one and I'm needing a shite.

How's that a poached egg, you silly bastard?

It looks like something that fell out your nose!

Right, get it fixed, start again!

I'm not serving that up, you novice arsehole!

And where do you think you're going, fatty?!

I was just, er...

"I was just, er...just, er..."

Just get the nibbles on the trays and onto the tables!

I was on my way to the toilet.

Get those nibbles oot!

Oi!

(Winston! What the f...?)

CLATTER!

Ye all set for your interview, Mick?

Look at that pigeon, man. Look at the size of it!

It looks as if it's ate another pigeon.

Never mind the pigeons.

Look, I'll pretend to be the interviewer

and you introduce yourself to me.

Hello, I'm Methadone Mick.

I wouldn't say that.

Hello, I'm Methadone Michael?

Mick, you can drop the Methadone.

Cannae man, got tae have it every morning.

Never mind that. Just say, "Hello, my name is Michael",

and then just be loose wi' it.

Let's buy some pigeon feed. That wee one looks starving.

Look, gie it a rest wi' the pigeons. Watch me. Watch and learn.

Good afternoon. My name's Victor.

Good afternoon, Victor.

What makes you think you're suited to the position?

Ha-ha! That's an easy one, sir.

30 years in the service of Babcock and Wilcox, man and boy.

Loyalty's my middle name, diligence is my reason for being.

-Impressive.

-So therefore...

Weesht! You've done enough.

I see no reason why you can't start on Monday.

I'm over the moon. Let me leave you with my CV.

On the other hand, make it Tuesday.

That'll give you a chance to wipe that muck off your face.

So that's basically it, Mick.

Confident, forthright, be yersel'. But without the shit.

Good luck.

Nyah!

(Damn it! He's no supposed to be there!)

WHIRRING

-Watch what yer daein'!

-No! No!

Buffers, eh? Come on, ya wee bastard, buff! Argh!

I'm Andrew Gillespie. Sit yourself down.

Michael, is it?

Mick. Michael.

Nothing to do with Methadone.

OK, Mick. Why do you think you're suited to this position?

Ah!

30 years in the service of Babcock and Wilcox, man and boy.

-What age are you?

-23.

Loyalty's my middle name.

Well, it isnae actually, it's Thomas.

MICK CHUCKLES

Diligence is my reason for being and I've no got shite on ma heid.

I beg your pardon?

I've no got shite on ma face, or anything like that.

For God's sake, where have ye been?

I was a baw hair away from gein ma pension to a prostitute!

(Shut up! Get in!)

Well, Mick, we have others to see.

Fair dos, Andra...Mr Gillespie.

Here's the thing. See, my life, so far, it's no been up to much, man.

Hands up, it's been ma fault.

But you see noo? I'm clean, focused, man.

My...my mad days are behind me.

Well, you're remarkably well-turned-out today.

You'll love this. It's aff its nut.

I got this suit fur £6,

but no really cos I only had two,

but I got it anyroads cos Jack and Victor bought a spoon.

So that was excellent.

Then I'm up at their door and this wee magic letterbox

starts talking to me about all the stuff it can gie me.

Tie, shirt, shoes annat.

Cos the letterbox hud a son called Colin.

Next thing, my teeth are nae use!

So I'm in this fella's living room, like...

S-h-h-h-h-h-h!

Gas!

Gas is good!

Then in the background...

Ding-ding-ding!

Old teeth in the bin, new teeth plugged in.

Aye.

Oh! We'll be here a bloody month!

No, we'll not.

Come here.

Ho-ho!

Ho-ho-ho-ho!

Look at you, ya ancient, old, wee monkey!

Come here.

Job done!

I'll see ye back at The Clansman. Ha-ha-ha-ha!

-You're not Brian.

-No.

Where is Brian?

Er...he's no here the noo.

Get the bell, then!

-The bell?

-Go and get the bell, ya numpty!

Hear ye!

Oh, yay!

Hear ye!

Shoosh the noo.

Ladies and gentlemen, er...His Right Honourable Lord...

Lady, er...Provost, um...

What's yer name, hen?

Winnie Cranston.

Winnie Cranston!

Give it up for Winnie!

-APPLAUSE

-Whoo!

Whoo-hoo! Whoo!

My lords, ladies and gentlemen,

thank you for that warm reception.

-Brian?

-I don't know who that man is, but he's an impostor!

Aw, for fu...!

Mayhem. Absolute mayhem. I thought I was getting the jail.

So, how did you get off?

The old silver tongue got me off wi' it.

Aye, that and a quarter of an hour begging like a wee lassie.

"Oh, I'm Boabby's plus-wan! I'm Boabby's plus-wan!

"I got lost in the corridors cos I'm old and past it!"

Aye, well, it worked, didn't it?

And naebody none the wiser.

None the wiser about what?

That old parking ticket.

That's why I went! It's binned. History.

Awright, troops?

Oh, aye! Hey, Mick, How'd ye get on?

-I got it.

-THEY CHEER

I was close to not getting it, cos I was nervous annat, talking pish.

Then the strangest thing happened.

I'm about to leave, thinking I've humped it

and then I sees he's daein a crossword,

but he's no finished yet, he's stuck.

So I lean over and say, "Three tae finish, eh?

"It's a bastard when that happens.

"So genuine, real, honest. That one's unfeigned.

"Four doon, nine letters, hard working is assiduous.

"The last one there, coolness and composure,

"especially in a difficult situation.

"Equanimity."

The next thing I know, Gillespie's standing up and gieing it the welcome aboard.

Ah, that's magic! Dead chuffed for ye, son.

-Aye, really happy for you, Mick.

-Oh, you guys are the stars, man.

Youse got me there.

Who knows? Mebbe youse'll be picking up some medals next year.

If we don't have a hard winter.

Right, Boabby, mair drinks!

Seems like we've all had a bit of good luck today. Huh!

Where is it you're working, son?

Ach, it's just some daft office job.

-How ye getting on, Mick?

-Brilliant, Mr Gillespie.

I was climbing the walls there earlier

cos there was ten fines to be processed there

and I could only find nine of them.

One of them was missing.

So I've hunted, and of all the places,

it's in the bin, crumpled up!

Nae luck, Mr Ingram, whoever ye are.

Ha-ha-ha!

I feel bad about dropping Winston in it with that old parking ticket.

Ach, don't worry, son. You werenae tae know.

What did he get?

-What did you get again, Winston?

-100 hours.