Silly, But It's Fun The Good Life

They don't look much like robins to me.

Ohhhhh!

Oh. They're nice.

-D'you like them?

-Yes. Little Christmas vultures.

-Did you get cold out?

-Yes.

-Good.

-They're good. Newspaper paper-chains.

Yes, readable decorations.

-For the pigs, too. And the chickens.

-You saw them?

Honestly! Paper-chains in a pig-sty!

It's their Christmas as much as ours.

Except for tomorrow's dinner. Deck the halls with boughs of holly.

-We can't afford holly.

-I know.

Da-ra!

-Where did you get that?

-The golf course.

-Tom!

-I'm a member.

-You've lapsed.

-They wouldn't mind.

-You're sure?

-Everybody's up there with shears in their golf bags.

-Thief!

-I got this too.

Wouldn't be Christmas without mistletoe.

-Stolen mistletoe. I've got a tree too.

-A stolen tree?

-No!

-Well, where did you get it?

-I found it.

-Where?

-The greengrocer's.

If they prosecute, Tom, don't call me as a character witness.

Have a look at it. I'll just go and lug it in.

GRUNTS AND GROANS

Ah!

-The top snapped off. They didn't want it.

-You toad!

-There you are.

-A bonsai Christmas tree.

-Yes. It would do as a centre-piece.

-I've already made one.

-Where?

-Smashing. What is it?

-A yule log.

-Y-e-s. Very nice.

That's only the base.

-Another vulture.

-What is it?

-It's a big robin!

Yes. The head went wrong, so I incorporated it into the body...

I see. Very nice. Very nice indeed.

-That'd make mincemeat of any vulture.

-Right! Your ear is coming off!

Get off!

Good morning, Barbara. Good morning, Tom. It's me, Margo.

'Morning, Margo. Yes, it IS you.

-I don't have time for jokes. I have a crisis.

-What is it?

-I want a witness.

-Is it serious?

Of course it is. It's tradesmen.

-Truce?

-Truce.

# I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... #

HUMS TO HIMSELF

Now, Tom and Barbara, would you measure this tree, please?

Yes. All right.

-Merry Christmas.

-Merry Christmas.

-Just tell me what that measures.

I make it 8 foot 5.3/4".

-That's 8 foot 5.3/4", all right.

-Exactly. There you are, you see, Tom and Barbara.

Yes.

Absolutely.

-Should we deduce something from this, Margo?

-Sorry. I should've told you.

-I ordered a 9 foot Christmas tree.

-And they sent an 8 foot 5.3/4" one.

-Yes.

-Not your day, mate.

-What have you got to say for yourself?

-I like this wallpaper.

-What?

-My sister's got something like it in her 'dinnette'.

I'm not interested in your sister's DINETTE.

My Christmas tree is 6.1/4" short.

Does it matter? Ours is 8 feet short.

Of course it matters. That 6.1/4" is a measure of how much standards have fallen.

-A 9 foot tree is what I ordered.

-And that's not 9 foot.

No, it's not. Not by a long chalk.

Excuse me, can I ask you... do you cut the hair in your ears?

No, I was born like it.

I noticed how short they are. I notice a lot of things. It's a sort of hobby of mine.

-In the Observer Corps, eh?

-RAF.

-So was I. Know RAF Lyneham?

-I was stationed there!

-No!

Er...Margo wants to concentrate on her tree.

Thank you, Barbara. What about it?

Well, with the high dudgeon you're in I'd better take it back.

-Yes, you had.

-Very well.

I've observed your shoes. Very nice.

Shall I bring the rest of the stuff in now?

No. Unless my order is delivered according to my specifications,

I will accept none of it.

-She knows her own mind.

-Oh, she does.

-How many trees did you order?

-Only one. The rest of the order is food, drink, etc.

-Your Christmas comes in a van.

-It's supposed to, Tom.

-Come along.

-Very well.

-Have you observed anything about me?

Yes, I have. Your eyes. They're the kind of eyes a man could kill for.

They're of a deeply sexual nature. Merry Christmas.

Oh, look, an alabaster figurine.

-What a very nice, observant, intelligent man.

-Kill? For you?

I asked what you were doing in that van! What is she doing?

-She's sending your Christmas back. It's not up to specifications.

-Don't mention Christmas.

-Come on.

Sit down there. Gin and tonic, Tom.

Shoes off...there you are.

Thank you very much, Barbara.

-You understand.

-Of course I do. Merry Christmas.

I know. I sound like Scrooge.

The Headmaster's said, "Have a nice holiday, boys!"

You can abuse your digestive system for 5 days. What more do you want?

-Peace and quiet.

-Get it from Harrods.

It's going to be one paralysing round of socialising.

-Music Society and Pony Club on Christmas Day!

-A mounted sing-song?

-Boxing Day it's the Rotary Club do.

-All spinning around.

-Next day it's the Blairs at Cheltenham.

Same crowd standing about in different rooms boring each other to death.

Just as well I did check that order. Does it look as though I drink milk stout? Hello, Jerry.

Margo.

-Now, did you send the flowers to Aunt Clare, whose present we forgot?

-Yes.

-Did you check the M4 for Cheltenham?

-Yes.

-Did you tell Maria we'd have a spare goose on Boxing Day?

-Yes!

Hard to believe one could inject so much bile into one word!

Well, I'm fed up with all these blasted arrangements.

-I'm going to have a bath.

-Well, thank YOU, Jerry.

I'm left to make all the arrangements!

-Come on, Boss-eyes.

-Right, Bald-ears.

Barbara, are you in the kitchen?

No, I'm just going upstairs.

-Gotcha!

-Aaagh! Don't do that!

-That's my present! Give it to me now!

-It's not yours.

-Let me look then.

-It's a surprise.

-Oh, it IS my present.

-No, leave it! Don't! Leave it!

-It's some crackers I made for tomorrow.

-Oh! You should have kept it as a surprise.

-What do you think I was trying to do?

-Sorry.

-There we are.

-Oh. They're not small.

-Because the tubes in the middle are the tubes from toilet rolls.

-Clever!

-And the colour supplement's nice.

-What's in them?

-Don't!

-That's the Faberge egg.

-Home-made, of course?

-Of course.

-Paper hats?

-Yes.

-Mottoes and riddles?

-Yes.

-Clean?

-Fairly. There's one snag.

-What's that?

-They don't bang.

-We can shout "bang", can't we?

Yes, good idea. "Bang". Yes.

-Like a drop of cowslip?

-Mmm.

Are you writing to Father Christmas?

-Just totting up what Christmas has cost us.

-Yes, it's got very commercial.

-Yes.

Let me sit down first. Now then... What's the total?

15p.

-What was that for?

-The balloons.

-Oh, yes, they are a necessity. I wonder what Jerry and Margo's cost?

-A lot, judging by that van.

-Then there's the cost of reinforcing their table.

-And a few dresses for Margo.

-The LSO for the choir.

-Tranquillisers for Jerry.

-He should be master in his own house.

-You're not.

-I was talking about Jerry.

-I see. Well, it would be £50,000?

-We can have Christmas for 15p.

-Just as good.

-Of course!

Except we've no turkey or Christmas pudding, or whisky, or a firkin of ale...

-or cigars, or...

-Oh, shut up.

-I mean, a spare goose! Margo has a spare goose!

-Are you envious, Tiny Tim?

No, not really. They might have a spare goose,

but they've also got Mrs Dooms-Patterson coming.

-Well... The sooner you get to bed, the sooner Santa will come.

-Right-o.

-The cotton-wool beard is in the bottom drawer.

-You know it's me?

Remembering last Christmas Eve, it had better be.

And seasonal greetings to you, Stephen. May I speak with Maria? ..Yes, I'll hold.

-'Morning, darling. Happy Christmas.

-Happy Christmas,

-How many more people are you phoning?

-Last one. Then our social boats are burned.

-What d'you mean?

Just a moment. Hello, Maria! Yes, and Yuletide felicitations to you.

I'll be as brief as possible. Jerry has chicken-pox.

Yes, he's covered in them. So I'm afraid, dear...

the Leadbetters are totally out of circulation this Christmas. ..Yes.

All right, Jerry, I'm coming!

That was Jerry calling from his sick bed. Yes, I will. Yes. Goodbye.

-I gather my chicken-pox is political, but why?

-It's simple. Christmas is cancelled.

-Why?

-They won't deliver it.

-What?

-I telephoned this morning about our order, and was told they don't deliver on Christmas Day.

-I spoke to the highest authority there.

-Who?

Fred. An incompetent loon who styles himself Assistant Caretaker.

-But surely you checked that they'd re-deliver?

-No.

I assumed that customer satisfaction

was a principle that still prevailed.

But why chicken-pox? We could visit other people.

If we can't have people here, I'm not going begging to them.

-I like the idea of a quiet Christmas.

-What with?

-Each other.

-I meant with what?

-Each other.

-I meant eating and drinking what.

I see what you mean. It's rather like having all one's eggs in one basket.

-No decorations.

-That gin will never last.

-I feel wretched.

-Me, too.

-#

-We two Kings of Orient are

-#

-Da-de-da-de-da-de-da...

-Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la.

-#

-Merry Christmas.

-Give's a tenner or we'll sing again.

-Good morning.

-Where are the mince pies, then?

-We haven't any.

-A turkey?

-No turkey either.

-What's happened?

Christmas has not been delivered.

-Oh, Margo.

-Don't be affectionate, Barbara, or I shall cry.

Drivers stop off and drink beer and things. They'll be along.

They're not working today.

-Well, that doesn't matter. Come to us!

-We can't. We haven't been invited.

-Margo and Jerry, I hereby invite you.

-Not the Music Society or Pony Club.

-That's been taken care of. I've got political chicken-pox.

-Come on, then.

-That's very generous.

-Eh, Margo? Eh?

-We haven't anything to bring.

-Bring yourselves. Come on. I need help to peel the potatoes.

-Come on, Margo.

-I've got half a bottle of whisky.

-No, this party's on us.

What else have you got?

Aaaahhh!

May I add something to that?

-What?

-Aaaahhh!

Says it all, really, doesn't it?

-Your food really does taste like food.

-Yes, it does, rather.

Did I tell you about last Christmas and Mrs Dooms-Patterson's corset?

-No.

-No, perhaps I'd better not.

I don't really want to think about her, or the rest of them.

-Can't have been a pretty sight.

-No.

Can't tell you what a relief all this is.

Spirit of Christmas. Goodwill to all men, especially me.

-Do you mind if I take my shoes off?

-Take your feet off.

-We've done the washing-up.

-We were just coming to help.

-It's your turn this evening.

-Oh.

You know, Barbara... Shoes, please, Jerry.

You'd save yourself trouble if you bought a dishwasher.

-I'm sorry.

-Have a sprawl, Margo.

That's the idea.

-On with the festivities.

-Maria had a conjurer last year.

Oh, did he taste nice?

-Crackers?

-Crackers!

Crackers!

Da-ra!

None of your shop-bought rubbish.

There's a trick to these. They do not go bang. So...

And "bang".

-You're crackers.

-Come on, Jerry. One, two, three...

-"Bang".

Come on, Margo. One, two, three... "Bang".

-Come on, Margo. One, two, three...

-"Crack".

Not "bang"?

I see "crack" as a more pertinent word. It is the stem of cracker.

You can't argue with that.

Right, what have we all got?

-The inside of a roll of lavatory paper.

-Inside that!

-Oh, yes.

-Well? Wellington or Nelson?

All the nice girls love a sailor. You'd better be Nelson.

-Mind you, there's something about a soldier.

-Read your motto.

You said they were clean.

-Fairly clean. Hat on, Margo.

-This is the Daily Mirror.

I am terribly sorry, Margo. Please have The Telegraph.

Now, then. My motto...

"The Ooh-Aah Bird is so-called because it lays square eggs."

I don't understand that.

Good. What about some games?

-Oh, yes.

-Rather!

-What about Bridge?

-Or a chess tournament?

-Yes.

-Margo, I'm talking about games! Larking about!

-Canasta?

What's that one called? Murders!

Oh, yes. That gets quite scary. Well, it frightens Tom, anyway.

Or blindfold jelly-feeding.

-They're rather childish.

-Yes!

-We should do something adult.

Jerry!

-I know. Sardines!

-Yes, Margo. A lot of squeezing in cupboards.

-I don't like that.

-Strip mah-jong?

-You're being silly.

True.

-We WANT to be silly.

-Why?

-It's Christmas.

-I don't see that the two go together.

-They do in this house!

-There's no need to snap.

-Sorry.

-Let's have another bottle of Pea-pod Burgundy. Will somebody smother the blast?

-GIGGLING

-Er...

Thank you.

Any bottle is it, Tom?

Tom?

Tom?

Now listen, you... We both want you to have a good time.

We may be silly and infantile.

It may not be what you're used to, but that's the way we do it here.

Either you join in, or go home.

I don't want to go home.

-Well, then?

-I WANT to join in, Tom. I don't know how to.

-It's quite simple. Pretend you're stupid, like me.

-I could try.

-Just try, that's all I'm asking.

-I WILL try. I promise.

Please will you let me go now?

Thank you.

Tiddly-winks, anybody?

LAUGHTER DROWNS OUT DIALOGUE

-The winners!

-And world champions!

-Sorry, partner.

-It was just luck.

-It was NOT!

-You rotten cheat!

-I demand a play-off!

-I vote we have a bit of a breather.

Too bad. I'm running into form.

We're well ahead, Margo. We won the orange under the chin...

We won that! Your orange went down Margo's dress - out of bounds.

-And spinning the plate...

-We're a stylish team.

-Quite.

-Oh, we'll see who's best.

I'm taking off my earrings. Balloons between foreheads.

-Off we go.

-I'm hungry again.

-Let's make some sandwiches.

-Good idea.

-Come on, darling.

-Remember the score.

-What did you do to Margo?

-I threatened to kiss her.

-No wonder she's joining in.

-I must say, I can't remember enjoying Christmas more.

-I'm glad.

This is the best Christmas ever. Hic!

-I hope that's not the Pea-pod Burgundy talking.

-No. Christmas doesn't come in a van.

-You have to make it yourself.

-Another form of self-sufficiency.

It's being with friends - true friends...

Joining in and...and...

-And where are our presents?

-Tom!

-That's why we asked them over.

Here are yours, anyway. With our love.

-You shouldn't!

-You can't afford it.

-Have a look at them first.

Oh.

Oh.

-The loom.

-Yes.

-Well...

Tom...Barbara...

I can safely say...

that, on the right occasion, these will be the perfect things to wear.

-What occasion will that be?

-Can't think of it at the moment.

-We'll get you your present now.

-It's in the garage.

-If it's expensive, I'll be embarrassed.

-So shall I, but I'll overcome it.

-I wonder what it is.

-Probably something utterly useless for us.

-Like a briefcase.

Or a Georgian silver trowel.

-Aren't we rotten?

-Or...

-COW MOOS

-They haven't...!

-They have!

Happy Christmas!

Subtitles by BBC