Flan Van Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps

This programme contains adult humour.

-You'll have parental responsibility.

-Who's more responsible than Gazman?

-I'm trying to be the best dad ever.

-By asking men to sit on your lap and play with your balls?

-If you're not 100% happy in that London, talk to him.

-OK.

I've made up my mind. I'm moving back to Runcorn!

ALL GASP

# Hey Mr Bartender, give me a drink

# I want a cold wet glass with bubbles in it

# And that doesn't mean I can't handle anything stronger now

# Just think I'll wait a while

# I'll have a pint of lager please

# And a pack of flakeys. #

Who's a good boy for coming shopping with Mummy? Corinthian is!

Though we did make a little puddle, didn't we? Didn't we?

Didn't we? Yes, we did!

Fancy that! Both of us weeing ourselves at the same time.

-Give me your purse.

-Is that a toffee apple?

Yeah, and I'm not afraid to use it.

-You're robbing me?

-Just give it me.

-And afterwards you're probably going to try and touch me, aren't you?

-No.

Oh. Why not, you snob?

Give me your purse!

Help! A man just stole my purse, please. Someone! Argh!

This is empty. Can I have your phone instead?

Mugged! I've been mugged. So, come on, what happens next? When do you arrest him?

-You all right, love?

-But you're the cops! The rozzers. The pigs.

You're supposed to kick his door down while wearing an Aran sweater.

I saw it in a documentary once.

Yes, it was a documentary called The Sweeney. Oh, look, forget it!

I bid you good day.

-What's happened?

-I got mugged.

You what? Who was it? Did he touch you? Did he touch Corinthian?

I'll knock his frigging head off!

I'd use the other hand.

He took everything, Gaz.

My phone, my wallet, my dignity.

Oh, for god's sake! It's all take, take, take with these muggers.

I know. That Mysterious Girl ringtone was worth almost £3.

Come here, come here.

I'm all right, Gaz. I'm just a bit shaken.

It's OK. Daddy's home now.

Everything's going to be OK.

OK, shush.

Shush!

-Shushy shushy!

-Gaz. What are you doing?

Everything sounds comforting when I use this voice, doesn't it, little one? Eh?

Brain tumour.

-Robert Kilroy-Silk.

-Gaz! Get off me!

-What?

-Stop treating me like a baby.

I bet you never used to talk to Donna like that.

But you're my precious little flower.

Gaz, I can look after myself as well.

In fact, I'll prove how tough I am.

I'm going to... join the police force.

-You can't just join the police. It takes years of training.

-Fine.

-Then I'll be one of those ones in the funny outfits.

-What? Leprechauns?

No, you know, Community Support Officer. Then you'll see.

Anyway, you're wrong about Donna. She does need looking after.

Hey, do you know what?

In fact, maybe I should set her up with someone.

Well, whatever you do, Gaz, don't end up having sex with her yourself.

Janet, how dare you? I'm not some kind of walking erection with his

head in his ball-bag who goes around having sex with...

Right, fine. I'll try not to.

So, this is it.

Me, on my own in Runcorn.

I may even end up like that mental woman with all the cats who smells of wee.

Janet hasn't got cats.

But I don't care.

Because I am officially off men.

They are nothing but trouble, so I'm sealing it off.

I am building a wall around my lady-meadow.

But you can't do that! It's a public right of way.

Well, not any more.

My fluffy haddock pie is officially off the menu.

I wouldn't care if Mr Darcy walked in here with a Lindt bunny stuck on the end of his cock.

-All right, Donna? I'm back.

-Wesley. What are you doing here?

Look, can I have a word with you? In private.

I just want to say, I forgive you.

Now get your stuff. We're going back to London.

Oh!

So, I spoke to the Staff Sergeant and guess what?

I've got an interview to be a Community Support Officer.

So what will you be doing?

Dealing with criminals, Louise.

Rapists, murderers, people who drop Nik-Nak packets.

-That very literally sounds fascinating.

-I know.

-I've just got to pass the interview.

-Good luck with that, you tedious chav.

-What's wrong with you today?

-I'm just a little...

Tired.

Oh, you poor thing.

How is the little one?

Well, he's been quite sad since the big one died but he still plays a lot of golf.

Not Ronnie Corbett.

-Your little one, Louise.

-Oh, she's absolutely great.

Last night she slept for two whole minutes. One right after the other.

Corinthian was just the same when Jonny died.

I couldn't get him to lie down.

Not Jonny, obviously. He couldn't get enough of lying down, what with being dead and everything.

Then what happened?

Well, a few months later, Gaz moved in and everything changed.

It made such a difference, having someone else to get up in the night.

My mum used to do that for me but they've changed her drugs again and now she's in a stabby phase.

It's hard being a single mum.

Yeah, and plebby.

I need to get me a baby-daddy!

Wesley, I can't. I can't leave my mates.

They are not your mates.

Of course they are! OK, so Gaz cheated on me.

And Janet stabbed me in the back. And Louise is a squeaky twat-bag.

They're all I've got.

And besides, anyway, I am off men.

I have drawn my turkey curtains for the last time.

I wanna be with you, Donna. I mean, for crying out loud, I came all the way up to Runcorn for you.

I didn't even have time to get a tetanus shot!

Well, you will be going home empty-handed.

Because I don't need me no man.

You see, that tends to look a bit more impressive when you can actually click your fingers.

Oh, listen. Don't worry about her.

No man has been able to understand her since Gaz.

Gaz, you say.

Now, to give the place that little touch of class.

Pot pourri.

Which I've learnt is French for "not crisps".

-Donna, I was just passing.

-Right.

No, I'm not finished yet. I was just passing wind.

Anyway, I've been feeling a bit guilty.

-About you ending up back here all on your own, right.

-Oh. How kind!

Cos you're so precious,

you need someone to look after you.

So I'm gonna set you up with someone.

Aw! And as sweet and as patronising as that is, I'm not actually interested in men.

I've already found you someone. Barry!

-Gaz, who's this?

-Your new boyfriend, Donna. Barry the Pisshead.

-Barry the Pisshead, Donna.

-HE MUMBLES

Scallops.

-Barry the Pisshead?

-Ah, it's an affectionate nickname, isn't it, Barry?

Huh! Huh! Scampi.

-My, what a kook. Barry the Pisshead, could you excuse us for a second?

-MUMBLES

Property ladder.

Gaz, did you find him in the pub?

Of course not! I found him in the bushes...

outside the pub.

-Oh, my God. Is he a tramp?

-It's all I could get at short notice.

I'll take him back to the bushes and swap him for Creepy Pete.

Gaz, I don't need you to set me up!

I don't want another boyfriend.

-I'm not lonely. Anyway, the only man I'm interested in lives too far away.

-Buzz Lightyear?

-Yes, Gaz.

-Fine, whatever you say.

-I'll phone round all the men I had set up for you and tell them you're not interested.

-Yes.

I'll have a Pringle.

Right, it says I need to explain my personal policing style.

Am I a good cop or a bad cop?

'Fess up, you naughty little bitch or I'll rip your cock off and ram it down your throat!

-What?

-Does Timmy want a lickle cuddle? Yes, he does.

Oh. That feels quite nice.

Shut it!

Or I'll stuff my fist so far up your arse I'll be picking your teeth for you!

Diana in heaven!

Next, it says I have to be able to visit people and break bad news to them. I can do that.

-Tim.

-Ah, Louise. Long time, no squeak.

The thing is, I'm looking for a baby-daddy for little Louise and I was thinking...

Me? Little ole tap-dancing, shoe-shuffling, huggable, loveable bar-tending ole me?

-No, you oaf.

-Right.

I want someone a bit older.

Maybe someone good with money, a nice job in the media.

Someone with a bit of mystery.

OK, Louise.

-You've just described the banker from Deal Or No Deal.

-I know.

Apparently, he's not up for it.

He's a miserable old bitch!

Though now you mention it, maybe you wouldn't be so bad.

And everyone knows gays make the best dads.

What are you talking about?

Who started this rumour?

Do you still want to be the baby-daddy or not?

Not on your Nelly Furtado!

I just want a man. Maybe I'll try Gaz.

Fine! And FYI, bitch-tits.

I'm as straight as J-Lo's fringe!

Yeah, I'm sorry for wasting your time, Creepy Pete. She's just not interested in blokes any more.

You're doing it again, aren't you?

Cos I can hear your skin flapping.

All right, fine.

But then we're even, right.

Oh, you are a big boy.

-You're so big, so...

-KNOCKING

-I've got to go.

Oh, that Creepy Pete. He is creepy.

-You. I thought you'd pissed off back to where you came from.

-I did.

I'm back in Runcorn for one thing.

-Donna.

-Oh. Come in.

Look, Gaz, whatever you might think about me...

Yeah, you're a southern twat with a twatty name.

-Proceed.

-I'm serious about Donna. I mean, why else would myself and

my iPhone come all the way to the arsehole of the universe?

Oi! Runcorn is not the arsehole of the universe.

It's the matted hair around the arsehole of the universe.

-Anyway, I kinda got to thinking, if anyone knows how to win Donna's heart, it's you.

-Really?

So what do you reckon? You gonna help me out?

All right, fine. I'll help you.

She likes witty men.

Hence my opening gambit, "Sit on my face and I'll guess your weight."

-Wow. That really worked?

-Eight stone, three pound.

Blimey.

What if she asks about your interests?

I like cooking, a bit of running...

Uh-urrr!

She likes men who are into cars and hardcore pornography.

Are you absolutely sure about this?

-Who knows more about banging Donna, me or you?

-Good point.

-What's your attitude to touching yourself in public?

-Er, I don't do it.

Wrong.

Observe.

And to finish...

Drives her absolutely nuts.

-Ah. Hi.

-Donna Wilkinson, nee Henshaw?

Yes.

I'm afraid it's your grandma.

She's, erm... she's dead.

What?

She, er...

she got hit by a bakery van.

I wanted to tell you before you saw it on the local news.

They're going with the headline: Nan SLAM By Man In Flan Van.

-Janet... oh, my God...

-Not really.

Sorry, I'm just practising for my new job.

God, I'm good at being sensitive!

Wow! God, I love what you've done with the place.

Oh, nibbles and everything.

Oh, cheers. Do excuse the tramp.

Donna, look. Are you all right, being back here and everything?

Course I am. What do you mean?

It's just, Gaz has got it into his head that you're all lonely.

Lonely? That's...

I'm not lonely!

So you're not, you know, moping around like a big, sad, old, miserable lesbo?

No! As if!

Right. It's just, I just feel bad, you know, that I've got Gaz...

Well, I stole Gaz. And you've got...

well... Barry, the shithead.

-Fisherman's friend!

-Could you stay out of this, please, Barry?

Thank you. SHE LAUGHS

What?

It's just, you're like I was a year ago.

No job, no man, no hope.

It's just funny how things change.

Yeah.

You know what? Wesley was right.

You and Gaz, you're not my friends, coming around here, patronising me.

-Donna, hang on...

-You know what? I'm gonna go and find Wesley right now

and tell him that I'm ready to go back to London with him.

-Oh, what have I done?

-Yeast infection.

And then what if Donna asks, "Do you fancy eating out tonight?"

I go, "Absolutely. I hear there's a lovely fish restaurant...

"in your knickers."

-And then you do what?

-Er, I go like this...

While doing...

While secretly massaging the tip of my penis through my pocket.

She's gonna love you. Right, practise on Louise. Now, calm.

Now! Go on.

You've got 206 bones in your body. Want one more?

I'm welling up over here!

What's going on?

Softy-bollocks just become a man.

Now, go forth and multiply.

Cheers, Gaz. Right, I'm off to win my beloved's heart!

-Gaz... I want you to be a father figure for little Louise.

-You what?

Well, I just want to make sure she grows up right.

Course she's gonna grow upright.

She's not going to grow up sideways, is she?

Properly, idiot.

I'm not coping on my own and you've helped raise Corinthian, and he seems perfectly...

-GASPS

-What?

Oh, my God. He's chewing tobacco!

Tobacco?

Don't be ridiculous, Louise!

It's not tobacco. It's mud.

What about his little tongue?

Louise, Louise, Louise...

It's his milk tongue. He'll grow another one.

-How do I look?

-Donna, if I wasn't a happily married man,

I'd rip your clothes off, strap something to you and bend myself over the pinball machine.

-Good enough for me.

-Now, go get him, you great big freaky-haired sex leopard!

-Hi.

-Yes...hello.

I'm Wesley. But you can call me...

anytime. Especially during the middle of night when I will be

available for sex with you, your sister and your mum.

-Right. My mum's dead.

-Yeah, I know.

OK. That's great.

I just wanted to ask, were your parents retarded, because you're really special?

Right. You see, the whole mum being dead thing, it's still kind of a bit sensitive.

Yeah, sorry. Please continue.

Well, you were right, what you were saying about my mates being bastards.

My interests include Transit vans and hardcore pornography.

Right. And I was thinking that maybe I should come back to London...

I have a wide range of hobbies, including masturbation,

mutual masturbation and masturbation in public.

Wesley, are you massaging the tip of your penis through your pocket?

Absolutely!

Gaz!

He put you up to this, didn't he?

The patronising, interfering wanker!

And as for you, I thought you were different.

-Donna, I can explain though...

-Yeah? Well, why don't you stick this in your big stupid iPhone.

I am not coming back to London with you. Not now, not ever.

Stop putting it in your iPhone!!

So? How do I look? No need to answer.

-Stop rubbing yourself through your pocket.

-Well spotted.

A good officer has the eyes of a hawk, the ears of a...

hawk and the speed of a... Why don't they just employ hawks?

Don't worry. It's a casual little job interview.

You're right. And if all else fails, I can do this...

Ello, 'ello, 'ello.

That's amazing.

All I need to do now is to practise my conflict resolution.

Gaz Wilkinson, you total shitehouse!

Well, now, there's a stroke of luck.

Is this about the homeless man I left in your flat?

I'll get rid of him, I'll set some traps or something.

No Gaz, it's about you, interfering in MY life!

What the hell did you do to Wesley?!

I just gave him a few pointers.

How to turn you on and suchlike.

By suggesting that my dead mother is retarded

and masturbating himself through his clothes?

Ello, 'ello, 'ello,

if I may just interject.

And you're even worse! Don't you know how to control him?

Of course I do. I masturbate him through his clothes.

Look, as a PCSO I can handle this. Let's all take a deep breath.

And close your eyes.

And now try to visualise your anger

as a big white ball of light.

That's amazing!

Vanishing at the first sign of trouble.

She's just like the real police!

I don't need you to interfere with my life, and I don't need a boyfriend.

It's just I see you sat in that draughty old flat like some sad old lesbian.

Naked...

Then another lesbian turns up.

Asks if she can fix your boiler...

Then the water goes everywhere and you start playing...

-I know you're doing this because you care and you feel guilty about, you know...

-Yeah, I do.

I hated the way it ended.

So do I! You know, I'm fine on my own!

-You're not lonely?

-Course I'm bloody lonely.

But sending over ex-boyfriends and pissheads... It's condescending.

It means talking down to.

Like chatting to a toddler.

It very much is.

-So you'll be fine?

-Absolutely.

Come here then.

Come on.

Shush, shush, shush.

Hepatitis C.

Piers Morgan.

So Mrs Keogh, tell me why you think you'd make good PCSO material.

I look good in an Aran sweater.

I love the gays. And I can walk in time to the music from The Bill.

Right.

Sorry, do you actually have any idea as to what being a PCSO involves?

Course I do! We patrol, we give it the old "'Ello, 'ello, 'ello,"

and we beat the crap out of people.

Mrs Keogh, let me level with you.

This role requires someone with a little more...

-Muscle?

-Sanity.

Oh.

-I've messed this up, haven't I?

-Nothing wrong with your observational skills, then.

OK, listen, I got mugged.

I was with my baby and he took my phone, my wallet...

-I'm sorry to hear that.

-Well, the rest of your lot weren't.

I just think if I can stop this happening, just by walking up and down in a silly hat.

I just don't want my baby or anyone's baby to grow up in a world where they

-have to watch their mum getting mugged.

-I see.

And I don't care what I have to do.

Even if I can't kick, punch or fire anything...

-Can I kick, punch or fire anything?

-No.

Well, I'll do the job anyway.

Because I want the world to be a safer place for my family.

Could you explain this brutality thing? That's something I might be interested in pursuing.

Ah. The bitch is back.

Zip it, Claypole, I'm not in the mood.

Let me guess... Still no baby-daddy for Little Louise?

I interviewed everyone. Even that bloke who hangs around the bushes buttering his knob.

I interviewed Gaz and he was too laddy.

I interviewed you and you were just a big old ball of flaming gayness.

None taken.

-I'll never find anyone good enough for little Louise.

-Oh, boo-hoo.

-You'll manage, just get on with it.

-I won't!

I can't get her to sleep,

I can't change nappies, I'm even rubbish at breast-feeding!

Louise, how can you be rubbish at breast-feeding?

Because I keep forgetting which one's skimmed and which one's semi.

Well, hooking up with some random bloke isn't gonna sort it all out.

I just need help.

No, you need support.

And you know what... Here, right here, you've got something way more important than a man.

Gin?

-Friends.

-Oh.

Right. Cheers, Tim.

Don't mention it.

I'm always here. For both of you.

Listen, I need to powder my nose and I think she needs changing.

Do you mind?

You being serious? I've just manicured. Whoever's next, please?

Oh, my God. I'm all alone. I'm going to have to be...

self-reliant.

I'm a pleb.

And I just think the time has come for you to get back up on your own two feet,

clean yourself up, and most importantly GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FLAT!

-Banjos.

-Exactly.

-Desmond Dekker.

Good talk, Big Guy.

Oh. You.

-Sorry, you entertaining?

-He's just leaving.

-Aren't you, Barry?

-Bff-bff...

Ah, sod it, suppose I can't get away with it forever.

You lying little bastard!

Tramps today! They take the piss.

Although I note they leave the smell of it behind.

That's me, I've been to Janet's.

-Donna, I've come to apologise.

-Right, and what's Gaz told you

to do this time - bring me a bottle of Lambrini and a copy of Chat magazine?

It's about me moving back to London.

Oh, for god's sake! For the last time, I'm not coming! Why should I?

Donna, I don't want you to come and live with me.

I want to come and live with you.

-What?

-You're right. It's time someone did something special for you.

-So, for you, I'm moving to Runcorn.

-But what about your job?

-Well, I was thinking. My old man's a...

-Dustman?

No, market stall holder. And I've got the gift of the gab.

'Get your pears'!

That's quite amazing.

I know! I'm gonna get a stall.

And I'm gonna get the Runcorn website as my iPhone homepage!

Welcome to the matted hair around the arsehole of the universe!

Thanks, Donna.

-But if I move in with you, there's something I want you to do for me.

-Anything.

I want you to divorce Gaz.

OK. Yeah, OK, I will.

OK, here goes.

Gaz, can I have a word?

Hang on... You're back together!

Ah, Donna, love, I'm made up for you.

-I want a divorce.

-You what?

-And I want a quick one.

-Well, make your mind up!

A quick divorce, Gaz. I don't want to be Mrs Wilkinson any more.

Fine.

That's great! Lovely! I'd love a divorce.

Thanks, Gaz.

Gaz, love, you're white as a sheet.

You look like you've just seen a ghost.

I feel like I just have.

'Ello, 'ello, 'ello, 'ello.

Gaz, will you teach me the ways of this town? I just wanna fit in.

Step, step, shimmy!

'Ello, 'ello, 'ello, 'ello.

That is totally lesbian chic.

-My divorce papers have come through. It's really happening so...

-Oh.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd