British comedy with the Carry On team. A shop steward finds himself at loggerheads with the management at a lavatory factory, and discovers that his budgie has a special talent.
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MUSIC: "Oh, dear what can the matter be?"
# Three old ladies locked in the lavatory. #
-"Four matching pairs wash basins for Carters, Aberdeen."
-"Two Princess Suites, complete with stainless steel fittings for Girlings, London."
-"Six top-flushing urinals."
-Is there any other sort?
Funny things happen these days.
"Six top-flushing urinals, regular design for the YWCA, Wigan."
-"One matching pa..." Y
Funny things DO happen!
Well, Miss Withering, how does it feel?
Comfortable? Yes, I think so, Mr Boggs.
-Good! Comfort before beauty.
-It's a bit big in the bowl, I think.
By 2 centimetres. We shan't fall out over that.
It's falling IN I'm worried about!
- I like your overall design, Mr Coote. - Thank you.
- May I get off now, please? - Of course! Thank you, you've been most patient.
-Like Job on a monument!
-The catch must be strong to support the seat.
-Do you mind if I try it?
-No, go ahead! Yes, do!
-I couldn't stand it for more than 30 minutes.
-It's not a reading room!
-Look at this. Very slender, this pedestal.
-Hmm. It's streamlined!
What for? Wind resistance?
The thickness has no bearing on tensile strength.
I've had bitter experience of what happens when one collapses - or rather, my wife had, rest her soul.
I can assure you, sir, an elephant could safely use that toilet.
Not without a much bigger bowl!
We can't afford to take chances. Dependability before beauty!
Miss Withering, just one more time, and this time come down on it like a TON of bricks!
So far, so good. Now just bump up and down.
Excellent! Excellent! Bump! Bump!
Things that go prrt! in the night.
-"One matching pair" of what?
"One matching pair of be..."? Eh?
-Hello, Myrt love.
-How about it this afternoon?
-Not standing up.
No, sitting down. I've got grandstand tickets. Kick-off is at 3.
Three o'clock! We're working till 5.30!
I wouldn't bet on that, love. I'll take you out for supper after.
Got a cup of tea? No more floor service.
-New rule. Drinks to be served in the canteen during official breaks.
That's taking a diabolical liberty!
And that's something you know ALL about!
-Do you mind? I'll not let them away with this!
-I didn't want a cup anyway.
That's irreverent! This constitutes an infringement of workers' rights.
Old Tinderbottom's off again. Another strike I suppose.
Oh no, what's it for?
You know our Vic. He's never known what it's for!
Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr Boggs.
I should have sounded my hooter, Miss Plummer.
-There's "Silver Spoon", at it again.
-He can't help being the boss's son.
Privileged class, sitting on his...
The girls call him "Pencil-doings" that's how privileged HE is!
-Morning, Mr Boggs.
I'd like to see you for a few moments, please.
All right, but make it quick, Spanner.
I understand a new rule has been introduced that tea may no longer be served outside the canteen.
-That's right. I made it.
-Oh, well, as the Union's representative I wish to protest!
-It infringes the Workers' rights.
-Come off it!
-I'll show you in the "Nooky" rule book.
They're making rules about THAT now?
N.U.C.I.E. "The National Union of Chinaware Industrial Employees."
You know what you can do with their rule book.
-I'll give you a clue.
These pages are just about the same size as our toilet-paper holders.
Now d'you get the idea?
Great, steaming Public School nit. You all heard him.
-Aggravation of a genuine grievance.
What did I tell you?
Meeting in the canteen in ten minutes.
-Meeting...when was it?
-Meeting in ten minutes...where?
-Meeting in ten...
-Oh! Excuse me.
-Lewis, my boy.
We're just discussing the new Princess Beatrice suite.
-Please don't get up, Miss Withering.
-But I want to get up, Mr Lewis.
Rather elegant, wouldn't you say?
I thought we were modernising our stuff, and including a bidet.
I designed one. Mr Boggs sat on it.
- On the idea, I mean. - Bidets are not quite US.
-All our competitors make them.
-I dare say, but I thought the limited demand...
-Limited demand?! I told you about that enquiry from abroad for a thousand of them.
But my grandfather wouldn't have approved of the name Boggs being associated with such an article.
-Can't you persuade him?
-It's as easy washing your feet in the bath
-They're not for washing your feet!
-Are they for dogs to drink out of?
If it's for that, do a headstand in the shower.
-Lewis, my boy.
-Can you hear anything?
-Nor can I.
-Well, that's all right.
-No, it's not. They've stopped work.
I tell you, it is time we made a stand.
It is time the bosses learned they can't mess the worker about.
-What do you say?
-Down with 'em!
The bloated bureaucrats must see they can't grind our faces in the dust!
-What do you say?
-Down with 'em!
This issue isn't just over when you can have a cuppa.
-Oh, no! This ruling is another blow aimed at the fundamental rights of the worker.
It's another prod at the vitals of your personal freedom.
I haven't noticed anyone prodding my vitals!
Good for you. Ready for you any time.
-Yes, all right, quiet please.
But I seem to remember that you got very upset when they banned you women from wearing trousers.
-What about that?
-Down with 'em!
-I didn't mean down with the trousers.
-Anyway, I'm now calling for an immediate stoppage of work,
pending reinstatement of the tea rounds. Those in favour, raise your hand. Count 'em.
Are you in favour?
-Of course I am, you fool!
-Oh, well...that makes two.
That's that. Mind if we get back to work?
Wait one more minute, please.
I would like to make a last appeal to your reason and commonsense. I'll call for one more vote,
and remember the Rovers are playing at home today,
and kick-off is at three o'clock. Right, all those in favour?
Never saw so many people wanting to leave the room at the same time.
I have to inform you, it has been decided by a majority vote
that unless the tea rounds are returned there will be a walk out.
We're playing at home today, aren't we?
-You're not going to let them get away with this?
-Leave it to me.
The tea rounds were laid on by management as a privilege.
-Doing away with them hardly breaks any union rules.
-That's where you're wrong and I quote:
Page 154, paragraph 79... B. "Treatment of the Workers."
"Action may be taken if management doesn't provide adequate facilities for the workers' natural needs."
-Drinking for instance.
So's sex, but that doesn't mean they have to lay on crumpet!
Very funny, Mr Plummer, very funny. But are you prepared to reinstate the tea-rounds?
You know I can't, but I'll pass on your complaint to the management. All right?
No, we need a positive guarantee.
-Why don't we have a talk about it?
-NO. Now, listen to me.
You may not know what it means, but I have made a Time and Motion Study.
I know what it means. And, if you've got the time, I've certainly got the motion!
-And I've noticed it, especially in your main production department.
-Oh, you cheeky devil!
-I'd like to show you how it works.
Mr Lewis, are we or are we not going to get what we want?
That's up to Mrs Moore!
-I mean, on the factory floor.
-Not ruddy likely!
Now, let's get down to business.
Sounds just like my old man!
In this factory, 166 extra mugs of tea are served in one week.
Assuming that a worker goes to the toilet for every pint consumed,
he will make 16 trips in one day.
Poor devil! He must have a weakness.
Not quite, Mr Hulke. It means that if a trip takes four and a half minutes
72 minutes are lost in each day.
Which equals 15 hours lost weekly going to the toilet.
So, what is the answer?
Tie a knot in it.
Quite. But a less painful solution, I think, is to cut out the extra tea rounds.
Just one moment, please, Mr Lewis. Do the management want the workers to stop going to the shi...loo
-when they want to?
-You want to cut down on the number of trips?
Yes, that's it.
-A clear case of restrictive practice.
-Right into it.
Fine mess I made of that.
-You could have done what they wanted.
-I don't give in easily.
-You'll have to if you want 'em back tomorrow.
-I know. But it gives us a free afternoon.
-Yes, we can have a nice run and then something to eat.
-I'll pick you up outside the Odeon at 2.30.
Try not to be late. There's "no waiting" there.
-Thanks! I was worried we might have to work this afternoon.
-What about your production loss?
Think of the wages we're saving!
What's up with him? He's gone potty.
No, he's learning some sense at last!
Saving on the wages? What's he on about?
-Anyway, are you all right for this afternoon?
-No, Vic, I promised to help Mum with things.
-Instead of the football?
-Yeah! Funny girl, aren't I?
Blimey! She's gone potty, an' all.
Saving on the wages?
Excuse the rush, but I've got a lot to do. 'Bye.
-Wish I had a lot to do.
-Don't we all? Thanks for the lift.
-See you down the pub?
-No. The Lord and Master is home.
-Then you'll have plenty to do.
-Huh! Fred is a Saturday nighter.
-What a waste!
-You never stop, I suppose?
Only to fill my pipe!
That'll do, saucy!
Hello, Fred, Sid just gave me a lift home.
I hope that's all he gave you. Fred!
CHLOE: Spanner organised a walk out.
-How can I sell our products if you don't make 'em?
-Only the 13th strike this year.
-What's it about?
-The take in and put out figures.
-The take in and put out figures?
-The tea and pee figures!
Sid! I'm glad you find it so funny.
-Trouble at the works! We seem to have it once a week.
-Isn't that how you like it?
-Let's eat. I could do with a bit.
Spoken like a TRUE man!
That's all I need - a face-full of soggy knickers!
Nice Joey. Pretty Joey. Pretty little boy then.
Nice little boy then. Who's a nice little boy?
Going to say "Hello, Mummy"? Hello, Mummy. Go on, say it. Hello, Mummy!
Look what Mummy's got for him. A nice little toy.
TOY RATTLES A nice little toy for a clever boy!
Oh, blimey! Can't you give that poor bleeding bird a rest?
-The only way you get them to talk is by chatting.
-Chatting, yes, not nagging 'im to death.
-He ought to talk.
-He would if he could get a word in.
-still have trouble!
If only he'd give a little chirp, that would be something. He ought to make some sort of noise.
-How about dinner?
-He's got plenty to eat.
For ME, not for him.
-Haven't you had anything?
-No. Didn't Myrtle say there's a strike?
-No. I wondered why she was home at lunchtime.
-Now you know.
Did you hear that, Joey? All those naughty men are on strike again!
Naughty men! Naughty men!
-How about something to eat?
-I've had something.
Ohhh. Well...I could make you some beans on toast, I think.
No, nothing elaborate, thank you.
Mummy's just going to get Daddy some din-dins.
-Will you be all right?
-Of COURSE he will. What can he do? Chuck himself into his drink?
Being left alone upsets him, and then he (dirties his cage).
She spoils you to budgery. D'you know that?
CRASH OF CROCKERY
What do you think your daddy's got for you today, then? A honey ring! Yes!
What you got to say to that, then?
Ta, Daddy. Come on, mate, you can talk to me. Ta.
My washing's all over the floor in there.
-What you doing to him?
-Oh, yes, you are! What's nasty Daddy been doing to him, then?
Nasty Daddy bought a honey ring! Are you reporting me to the RSPCA?
-Did the nasty man buy him a horrid old honey ring?
-Dear, oh dear!
-He won't talk if you stuff him up with food!
-One honey ring won't stop him talking!
-If I thought that, I'd have bought you a crate of them!
-Mummy'll take it away.
-That cost me a pint of beer.
-Look what's happened!
Well (he's done something). Here, hold this.
Never mind, Joey, Mummy'll make him nice and clean again.
Yes, she will. Little Joey, nice clean boy.
- He's after you, you know. - Eh? Who?
- Sid Plummer. - WHAT? You're joking! What d'you mean, he's after me?
I'm a commercial traveller. I know when a bloke's on the make.
I mean, I've seen the others at it.
Because he gives me a lift home?
It's the way he looks at you. Mind, you ask for it. Flashing your legs and things all over the place.
- What? - Like two bald-headed convicts trying to burst out of gaol.
- You're jealous. - I wouldn't be seen dead with those two!
- I mean of Sid. - At his dangerous age a bloke will try almost anything.
Oh well, thank you VERY much.
I didn't mean that. I get worried about you, me being away so much.
Fred, do you really think I'd want to play around with anyone else,
when I've got a smashing bloke like you to play around with?
If there's no prime beef, women will make do with scrag end.
You want to make sure there's plenty of prime beef when I need it!
Hey, mind my trousers! Take 'em off.
In the middle of the day? I've got the day off.
There's a time and place for everything. If you've got the time,
I've got the place. Before tea?!
ROAR OF ENGINE
Thanks. Want to come to the game?
ENGINE ROARING Hello, Mrs Spanner. You all right?
Shut that bloody row! SHUT UP.
-What did she say?
-TURN that off!
-Turn it off!
-I'll turn this off. Now, what is it?
-I SAID, turn it off.
-It IS off.
-Do you want a ticket for the game?
Pick me up at half-past two.
Vic, I think you handled the men marvellous.
Oh...just a natural gift, that. Some men are born with the quality to leadership.
-I don't agree with the blokes.
-That you're a miserable little leader. Size isn't important.
-You'd better go.
And don't you worry, Vic...
they'll laugh the other side of their faces, when you're Prime Minister.
Good-for-nothing sod! Just like his father, may he rest in pieces!
-Well, well, if it isn't my dear, sweet, old Mum.
-Don't you come slobbering over me.
And tell that half-witted giant if he brings that motorbike again I'll kick him where it hurts.
-This is a refined neighbourhood and don't you bloody well forget it!
-You remind me so nicely(!)
Shut up and sit down or you'll be late for your work.
Oh, em...We...em We don't have to go back today.
Eh? You've started another bloody strike. HAVEN'T you?
The men had a grievance and I could not watch them being ground under foot.
-I am working for the workers' good.
-You've never done a day's work! Like your father!
-My father was a victim...
..of a gin-ridden society! Without the lodgers, where would we be?!
-I pay my way.
-I forgot about that. I've been wondering what I'd do with your £4 this week.
-Take myself to the Bahamas?
-If I'm not welcome...
Sit down on your backside!
If you spent less time talking through it we might get somewhere.
Now, we've got to feed the poor bloody, hard-working strikers.
-There you are!
-You're spoiling me, giving me it 15 times in one week.
< Coo-ee. I'm in the dining room, Mr Coote.
Oh, hello! There you are. Lunch is ready.
- Unless you want to wash your hands? - I think I can wait until after.
Sit here, Mr Coote, I've put a clean napkin in your ring.
You're TOO good to me! I'm only glad to have a REAL gentleman here.
- Since my dear husband passed on, I've missed it. - I'm sure!
I've got your favourite. You haven't! Steak and kidney pie.
Dear Mrs Spanner. You spoil me!
A nice, clean boy again, then.
What you going to say? Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.
-Talk about a non-stop performance.
-His beak opened and closed there.
We'll have to write to the newspapers about that.
-He generally just sits there doing nothing.
-He's a mimic. He's copying you.
-Say hello, Mummy. Go on.
-What's this stuff on the table for? Are we having an exhibition?
-D'you want me to clear it, then?
-No, no, I can manage.
Say hello, Mummy. Hello. Go on.
Hello, Mummy. CRASH!
I don't understand it. Mrs Phillips' bird talked in three months. Whole sentences.
They weren't nice things. It had to be covered when the vicar called.
-We should get rid of him.
-No! He's company for me. That was the whole idea.
It's all right for you. You go to work and enjoy yourself. I'm here alone all day.
D'you mind? I'm trying to work out my bets.
I wonder if he wants a little mate?
What would he want a little mate for?
-Give him something to do.
-No, I don't. Birds and fishes are a mystery. What do they do?
Oh, don't be silly!
They...bill and coo.
-I don't have to go into details, do I?
Males and females all look the same. WE can tell what we've got hold of, but how can they tell?
Well, we know Joey's a "he" bird.
-He is! The shopkeeper said so.
-Cock bird, not "he" bird.
-You wouldn't call yourself a cock man!
Opportunity would be a fine thing!
Shut that row, and move that thing!
-Not so much noise!
-Go on, you gormless lump!
Quite right, Mrs Spanner! Mind your own bloody business.
I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were here.
Oh, that's all right... Agatha. Has Victor gone?
Yes, Charles. We're all alone now.
- Good. How about it then? - I really ought to do the dishes.
They can wait. Just a quick one.
I find to hard to say no to you.
You like it as much as I do.
Very well. I'll draw the curtains.
Cut for deal.
-What's the matter? Did you lose something?
So that's your game?
-Follow that car.
-The one with Myrtle in it.
-Right, we're off!
-You never win on the horses.
How ignorant can you get? I work it out scientifically, I study form.
-You don't win.
-They don't run scientifically.
You throw that money away, while we go without.
-I don't notice you going without anything.
-Even if you won sometimes.
-Could you do better?
-I couldn't do worse.
I'll read out the runners in the Newmarket 3 o'clock. You pick the winners.
-But we won't know the winners till tonight.
-This is yesterday's!
-Here we go.
"Antony Watt. Jomon.
JOEY CHIRPS Sid! Did you hear that?
Yes. His very first chirp. How about that?
-It must have been one of them words.
-Them horses' names.
Does he like that word? Cleopatra! JOEY CHIRPS
-Cleopatra! CHIRPS Cleopatra!
-Don't tire him out.
-Isn't it exciting?
-Well, it's time he did something else apart from dropping good luck messages.
If Joey liked that one I'll pick it.
-It was a 10-1 shot. No chance.
-Well, what won?
-By three lengths... Cleopatra.
-JOEY CHIRPS There you are!
-You didn't pick it, the bird did!
-Well, it won, didn't it?
Are you potty? What does he know about horses?
-I don't know, but he's done better in one race than you have the whole season.
-That's NOT the point, is it?
YOU said you could pick them better than me. Right, here's the 3.30 runners.
"Diddy Ching. Fast Dayboy.
-Keep out of this.
-That'll do me. Tiny Tim. CHIRPS
-Just 'cos he chirped again?
-Well, who won?
-This is ridiculous.
We can't all pick scientifically. Who won?
-There you are, you see. Now are you satisfied?
There's a clever boy, then.
-Did he pick two winners for Mummy?
-Shut up a minute. I want to try another one.
-I don't want to do it.
NOT you, HIM! Listen, Mush, here are the runners of the 4 o'clock. Concentrate.
"X-Ray. Double Dwelling."
I'll see you. Two pairs.
Oh dear, you've beaten me again!
I knew this would be my lucky day! No looking.
Hello, Mrs Spragg. It's got very cold.
I thought I heard the front door. Yes.
-What are you doing without any trousers?
-You can talk!
Eh? ..Oooh! Aaah!
-Well, did it?
-Yes. He's picked the winner of every race yesterday.
-He must have seen the results in the paper.
-What are you TALKING about? He can't read!
-How do you know? You didn't know how they made love.
-He's getting information from somewhere. Where?
-You know he can't talk.
-Big, fat, beady-eyed useless lump.
Don't talk to him like that. Anyway, he's picked all the winners.
AFTER they'd run. If he could pick 'em before they...
I wonder. What's the time?
-I can be at the betting shop by 4.30.
Now, listen, genius, big, handsome lad.
-What you going to do to him?
-I'm going to read you the runners of the 4.30 at Kempton today.
Relax, think carefully. Winners only.
-"Peewit The Third"
-Peewit The Third?
You must be out of your tiny mind!
-You've made him dirty his cage again.
-I'm not surprised! Peewit The Third.
But, if you're wrong, I'll wring your bloody neck.
No, Mummy will wring Daddy's bloody neck!
It's all right. I'll go.
Oh, hello. Sorry to interrupt your dressing.
I was just having a game... of cards. Oh, I see(!)
Would you care to have a game? I'm hardly dressed for it.
We'll soon get those off! No, thanks. I've come to see Vic.
If you'll excuse me, I must get back to it.
-I thought I might find you back here. ..Here's your trousers.
-Oh, thanks a lot.
-They'll be very useful, they will, in case my legs row and split up(!)
-YOU told me to follow that car!
-Follow the car!
-Yeah! I stuck to them like a limpet.
-Where did they go?
-Into a cinema.
-Right, come on!
-If we hurry, we can make the 2nd half of the game.
We're NOT going to the football!
-Is this the wonderfully interesting film?
-No, it's the one after this.
'Women are busily engaged in peeling vegetables and cutting up the meat.
'To do this they use knives
'and other kitchen implements.
'Let us watch their nimble fingers at work.
'Few white people have seen this.'
Blimey, how much more of this?
Why don't you stop moaning?
That's choice! We miss the football and pay 6 bob to watch idiots make Irish stew.
'We bid farewell to Kuku Island.'
-He's got his arm round her now.
MANAGER: The next film was refused a certificate by the Film Censors.
< The Council agreed to a showing. That sounds better!
I am a well-known and practising doctor.
In the artistic picture which follows
you will see naked men and women engaged in the arts of sexual love.
This is not intended to shock, but to demonstrate that the sexual act
far from being something to fear...
is a great joy and pleasure which can, and indeed should, be enjoyed by everyone.
Let us familiarise ourselves with the component parts of the male body.
And this...the female body.
God, you don't miss a trick, do you?
-No, wait, Myrtle, please!
-Come on, they're leaving.
-Oh no, not NOW.
Let us look at the different ways the two can be brought together.
Move! Come on.
COMMENTATOR: 'That's the line-up for the last race at Doncaster.
-'Result of the 4.30 at Kempton - First, Peewit The Third...'
-He did it! Benny, £1 each way 10-1.
Got yourself a good win, eh, Sidney? Congratulations.
-(They've finished eating.)
-That makes me feel a lot better(!)
Stone me! You drag me away from the match, out of the cinema,
you drag me to watch them stuffing themselves, then ask what's wrong?
-You didn't have to come out with me.
-And I can't wait not to come out with you tomorrow either.
-I'm not watching him having it away with Myrtle.
-I didn't know it was going to be THAT sort of a film.
-What a day!
It just needs Dad to walk in now!
-What's he got against me?
-Plenty, apart from you being the boss's son.
-Is that so bad?
-You should hear him!
-What makes him think I want to marry you?
He doesn't. He had you weighed up right away.
-"I know all about blokes like Mr Lewis."
-Oh...a couple of those, please.
Em...I mean, THESE, please.
If I were you I'd have stuck to your first request.
I fancy the fellah with the ears!
-Did you see that waitress? Was that real?
-Yeah. The only qualifications needed for the job - big prospects.
In some places they're totally topless.
-Not a stitch.
-That's tricky when they're serving soup!
-And frying chips!
If I say I'm sorry about the film, and about being the boss's son, could we start again?
-And about being on the make with me?
-From now on, just good friends?
-I'll drink to that!
Is a dance within the rules?
Yeah. Provided there's no dirty work in the clinches!
-He's got her on the floor.
-In front of everybody?
-Sorry I was put out when you called.
-But you can use the flat tonight.
ROGER LAUGHS You bastard!
Wait, Myrtle, please.
Thank you, Joey.
I don't seem to have seen anything of young Mr Lewis, have you, Bern?
No, he's away. That's what you...
That was two weeks ago. I wondered if he'd left us. Have you heard anything?
I couldn't care less what's happened to him.
-Nearly dropped me in it.
-Is it a secret?
-Sitting down on the job again?
-Nothing in the rule book states I cannot do my job sitting down.
-Bet you say that to all the girls.
-If you want to bring a charge...
-No, relax. Go slow. Work to rule.
There you are. Have a smoke as well.
-I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Fred. Come on.
-< Come in.
-Lewis, I didn't know you were back!
We've got the Middle East contract.
If I say so, it was done in the face of stiff competition. Very stiff!
-Signed by His Highness King Frowsi of Aslam himself.
-Another crowned head to add to our clientele.
-What's it for?
-1,000 of them.
One for each of his wives. No favouritism.
-Are you mad? We do not make bidets.
-High time we started. You sign it.
My firm will not be associated with manufacturing such a dubious article.
It's worth nineteen thousand pounds.
I don't c...
£19,000! That's an awful lot of money.
-Once the order is ready in two months.
-That was the only snag.
-They need them for the Feast of Abanibel.
It's His Highness's custom to visit each of his wives in turn.
-It only happens once a year.
-I'm not surprised.
We couldn't possibly complete such an order in two months. We haven't even got a design!
-Mr Coote did one months ago. Now, sign.
-I feel I'm going into something...I shall regret.
-You're looking well this morning.
-Thanks, Doctor. Can I get dressed?
-Yes, while I put my eyes back in.
-Another new suit?
-I was lucky on the gee-gees.
-You must give me a tip.
Don't bend over in a tight skirt.
Refused you a bridging loan for a measly 1,500?
-It's true. The bank has been carrying us for some years.
-And now they're dropping us.
-It seems so. We'll have to get out of that contract.
-How much do you need?
-A thousand would do.
-Is that all? Don't bother with banks. I'll let you have that.
-Yeah, I can get it.
-We've got an hour till the last race at Cheltenham.
-Yeah. I have to see a bird first.
A bird! At Cheltenham?
-You promised me you'd limit it to two bets a week so he didn't overstrain himself.
-Read out the runners.
-All right. But don't blame me if nothing happens.
It's nothing to do with me, Joey.
I'm not the greedy one.
All right? Here we go, then.
Four-thirty at Cheltenham.
"Hard To Get.
"Sweet Sue." JOEY CHIRPS
That's the one.
-What's the betting?
18-1 Sweet Sue. Fifty six pounds win bet.
That's exactly one thousand and twenty-six pounds!
-That's what I make it.
-Pints of blood I'm giving.
-You'll get it back.
-I've had a heart attack from paying it out.
-I don't like doing this.
-don't like doing this either. Why do we go on suffering?
-Just 'cos I've had a bit of luck for a change.
-For a change, he says!
Look at this. In the last 3 weeks eleven winning bets you've had!
Two thousand four hundred and thirty three pounds.
YOU have taken from ME.
-Tomorrow, I'll bet the lot on a long...
-No, Sid, it's finished.
-There's a limit on you. £5.
What kind of sportsman ARE you?
If I was a sportsman I'd be riding the horses.
Mr Coote, please show my father your bidet design.
By all means. I have it right here.
Yes, if anyone has any use for this sort of thing. What's the cost?
After basic outlay on a new mould and so on...about £7 each.
On this contract it could be worth over 100% profit.
He's hit on a labour-saving idea.
It's quite simple. Instead of the conventional hot and cold taps and waste control tap,
the whole thing can be done by one simple control.
Hot...Cold...Down the hole.
Cut the switches.
Blimey, now what's happened?
All right! All right! What's the hold up?
-ALL TALK TOGETHER
-One at a time.
These men cannot put this fitting onto those things.
Am I right that this is a combined tap and waste-pipe control?
-Whose job is it to fit it?
-Ernie can do it, can't you?
No, because Ernie is a tap fitter.
-Willie can do it.
-No. Willie is a waste-pipe fitter.
-They can both do it.
-No. Because if one does it, he's doing the other's job.
-What of it if they're both working?
-That's what I said.
You don't have a say. This is union business.
-It's our union.
-And you'll do as it tells you.
-Under a redundancy agreement...
-But we're not making anybody redundant.
-These men are doing two jobs in the same time.
-What's your solution?
-It's not the Union's job to give solutions.
If you was to make two separate fittings...
-That basin was made for that one fitting.
-Typical! Immediately they make difficulties.
Suppose they work together? Ernie connects it to the inlet pipe, Willie connects it to the outlet.
You've still got two jobs being done in the same time.
-It's like a man working in half the time.
-Every worker doing his job in half the time would soon mess up the country.
-You can't bring 'em out!
-Until I acquaint the Union General Secretary with the facts, you leave me no alternative.
Keep your line moving.
Messrs Wade Ceramics, Ltd. Dear Sirs, With reference to our meeting last January,
when you expressed an interest in taking over this business, I must now advise you
that I am in a position to consider a favourable offer.
No! I beg your pardon, Miss Withering?
I can't let you give up. This strike has finished us.
What about me? I've given my life to Boggs.
You shall be taken over with the firm.
I don't want that. I want to carry on with you.
I do appreciate your loyalty...
No, you don't! You've NEVER appreciated me.
WHAT? I've worked for you 30 years.
Have you ever sat me on your knee, or asked me to go away a weekend?
You've never EVEN pinched my bottom.
I am NOT the habit of interfering with other people's seating arrangements. Now, the dictation.
Oh, DAMN the dictation!
I'm not going to watch you throw everything away. You're pressing on my keys.
William, fight back. I'll be at your side. I'll work for nothing. We can do it together.
I don't want us to do it together. You've lost confidence.
All you need is a good prod!
I assure you, that is the last thing I need. Lean on me. We'll see it through.
-Talk about the "Power Game"!
-I'm sorry we barged in on you. I had no idea you and she were...
-We weren't! And we NEVER have.
She was upset. After all, she's not getting any younger.
-She's not getting ANY.
-Yes, well. What about the Union?
-No luck. The Action Committee's gone off to Russia!
-Oh well, I suppose that's that.
-Why aren't there pickets on the gate?
-Probably on strike.
I can't believe it! >
-They're coming back.
-I thought they would today.
-The annual works' outing.
-We'd better get ready.
-Ready? For what?
-You're not going with them?
-I am, my boy.
-Because I've decided, after all these years,
what I've been missing is a good booze-up.
-No Fred, then?
-No, he's off on another sales trip.
Tsk! What a pity. Today of ALL days.
-I spent half the night trying to talk him into having it off.
-I wouldn't have needed persuading.
-I shall be very happy to look after you today.
Mr Plummer's offered to look after us.
-Oooh, that'll be lovely,
It's not much fun without a man.
-You should know.
You've never done it before?
No. Have you? Oh, loads of times.
What's it like? Vic arranges it all.
We get to Brighton about 12 o'clock, then we have a slap-up meal.
What do we do after?
We can do anything once we're there.
Go on the pier, eat winkles, throw stones.
To be frank, Mr Coote, I've never tried it. Really?
You've certainly missed something.
I'm always ready to learn. Oh, well...
It's difficult to show you here, but I can tell you how it's played.
You deal out five cards to each person.
I can't think why I didn't notice you at the factory before.
It was a strike my first day. I had to work 3 weeks!
-I'm on my own today, you know.
-So I gathered, yes.
-Why lumber yourself with a bird, going to Brighton? It's like taking coals to Newcastle.
-If you say so.
The place is full of spare. Last time we had to fight them off. Like flies they were.
Some people attract them. Just like dustbins.
Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so.
If you're going to be on your own I wouldn't mind showing you around.
Thanks, but I don't think you should disappoint those flies!
CAR HORN BLOWS
'Course I'd love to spend the day with YOU, Vic.
-Oh well, that's all right, then.
-Come on, boys and girls, this is where we're supposed to have lunch.
Morning, we are the Boggs and Sons outing.
I'm sorry, but we can't do you lunch.
-What? But I booked it six weeks ago.
I'm sorry, but our entire restaurant staff has gone on strike.
-They can't be!
-Listen to who's talking.
The bar's open and there are cold snacks.
-Who do they think they are?
-A bunch of down-trodden workers
being exploited by management.
What's it matter? A drink will do me.
Hear! Hear! The drinks are on me.
-This way, sir, please.
-I won't let them get away with it! Taking bread out of the poor workers' mouths.
-But there's nothing we can do.
-No. Yes, there is! I'm not being pushed round by anarchists!
Ah. Hey, you!
-What's all this about you lot being on strike?
-Yes, we are.
What about it, then?
Tell him, Bernie.
- You're taking the bread out of workers' mouths. - Oh?
- You're a bunch of anarchists. - Really? Who says so?
There you are, Mr Spanner. In time for your drink.
Ah, there you are, Vic.
Well, we certainly told him, didn't we?
# She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes.
# She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes... #
Myrtle, listen to me.
-Please stop bothering me.
-No, I won't!
-You heard Myrt, so buzz off!
-Move or I'll knock your head off.
-Mr Lewis, we don't want no trouble.
-Who's going to stop it then?
-All right, go on, try it.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
-Now you've REALLY done it!
-For God's sake.
Gosh, I AM sorry, Vic. Are you all right?
# Yippie, aye, aye, yippie Aye, aye, yippie
# Aye, aye, yippie, yippie, aye! #
Oh, splendid! Splendid! Let's have more drinks.
-Let's go for a walk. There's a smashing front here.
-There's a smashing one there too!
-Let's go on the pier and have a winkle.
-You can have one through that door.
No, let's go on the pier!
Come on, Myrt, come on!
We have a lot of conferences down here.
There's nothing to it. I'll show you.
It looks quite easy. Let's all have a go.
Oy! Watch it!
Come on then.
That showed him.
There's something I want to have a go at.
Hold it perfectly still. I'll take it...
How was that?
Beautiful, Bern, beautiful.
-Come on, Vic, let's have a go on the mat.
-In front of everybody?
Oh, the helter-skelter?
-You've had enough. You've got to have something to eat.
There was a young fellow called Reg Who went with a girl in a hedge.
When along came his wife With a big carving knife And cut off his meat and two veg.
Vic darling, I haven't had so much fun in all my life! Thanks.
# We are the champions. #
Oooh, what was that digging in me? Only my camera.
I've found a fortune-teller. Shall we try it?
Fortune teller! No! Waste of money. Fakes, that's all they are. Looking in their crystal what's-it.
-I QUITE agree! Absolutely ridiculous.
-I don't mind having a go. I love them.
-Let's have a bash.
Never mind, Miss Withering. Have a cockle. Much better for you.
Do you think I ought to? I've heard that shellfish do strange things - in a sex way, I mean.
Really? Oooh, let's watch 'em then!
-Look. "Gone to lunch. Back in the near future."
-The foreseeable future, I hope.
-We'll come back later.
-Wait a minute.
I've got an idea. Hang on.
But I DON'T want my fortune told. I told you, I don't believe in it.
You will in this one. Go on, be a sport! All right, then.
Excuse me, dear. Customers.
I know, I saw you coming.
-I beg your pardon?
-In the ball. You are indeed in need of help. Please be seated.
-Now then, do you wish me to prognosticate?
-Please do. We'll wait.
-Please, I must have silence to establish contact.
Ah! The mists are clearing.
I see a picture forming.
All around you are strange looking objects. White and shining.
-Do lavatories play a big part in your life?
-WHAT? Why, yes, they DO.
Yes. You are a cloakroom attendant.
Certainly not! I manufacture them!
I have a factory.
I see a picture of it. The factory is about to fall into ruins.
There is a woman who loves you.
Her name begins with...W.
-Is it Widdling?
-Withering. Miss Withering.
That's it. Your affinities will be closely entwined.
Don't be disgusting!
I see...a marriage!
And one, two, three, fourteen children!
Oh no! No!
William, don't go. William, come back!
-Do you want to do me now?
-Not 'alf. Let me get these things off first.
William! William, come back!
Switch it off. My girl's in there.
Let me go! Let me GO!
-Not until you listen to what I've got to say.
-Now, d'you see this?
-NO, I don't!
-What is it anyway?
-It's a Special Marriage Licence.
-A Special Marriage Licence, my darling. Do we use it or tear it up?
Leave her alone! Put her down!
Excuse me a minute, darling.
THUMPS AND CRIES
-Blimey?! Where d'you think they've got to?
-Search me. What happened to Myrtle?
-I don't know or care!
-Come on, ladies. Off you come.
-Looks like Fred's not home yet. No car.
-He said he wouldn't be home till tomorrow night.
-Looks like Beattie's asleep.
-I mean, em...good for her.
Chlo! Oh, blimey, Chlo!
-I think we ought to go to bed, OUR beds, I mean.
-Yeah, I suppose so.
-I would have liked to ask you in for a cup of tea.
-But you know how the neighbours talk.
-I suppose you couldn't come in with me at this time of night without someone seeing us.
-Not that we'd be doing what they think.
-If Fred did get to hear about it...
Yeah, quite right. Not worth it really. Not just for a cup of tea. Oh, well!
-Good night, Sid.
-'Night. Sleep tight.
Tight's the word!
Mr Boggs! Tea.
Very nice... Miss Withering, what are YOU doing here?
- This is my room, Mr Boggs. - Oh, I see.
-What?! Then what am
You were in no fit state to look after yourself, so I had two of the men bring you up here.
Well, that was very thoughtful... I beg your pardon! I didn't realise they'd undressed me!
- They didn't. - ..You mean YOU...!
Don't worry. I know what a man looks like.
- You're not all THAT much different. - Miss Withering...
- Yes? - Did we get off... Did I get off to sleep?
- Don't you remember, William? - No, I don't.
That is something we shall always be wondering about...isn't it?
CHARLES. Get up and come inside!
You've been drinking! I had some bad news.
I don't give a damn! I married one drunk and I'm NOT marrying another!
That was the bad news.
We won't be able to get married.
What d'you mean?
Mr Boggs is going to close down the works.
Close them? Why?
Because of the strike. I knew it. It's that little sod Victor's fault.
I'm not going to let that little swine mess up my bloody life.
We have got to keep a full picket-line today,
-because I hear some of the men want to come back!
-Oh, do they?
-If they want to, how are we going to stop 'em?
-Force. Whatever happens we have got to stand firm.
Can I have the cricket bat? I can't play tennis.
It's all right, William. Thank you, Miss Withering.
Now, William! I beg your pardon. Hortense. That's better.
Boggs and Son. Mr Boggs' personal secretary speaking.
Oh, Mr Lewis. Yes, he's here.
Hello, Lewis, my boy. I apologise for not getting home last night. I got laid up...I mean, held up.
I was going to say the same to you.
No, no, there's nothing wrong. Far from it.
The fact is, I got married.
That's right. To Myrtle Plummer.
That'll surprise her father!
I HAD to marry her.
No, no, no, I mean it was the only way.
-We booked into a hotel. We've been driving all night and want to get to bed.
-"At long last" he says.
You can say that again. Not you, Dad!
-You won't mind if I don't come back to work for a few days?
-Not at all!
I'm taking up Moore's offer for the firm.
Thanks. I knew you... You've WHAT? Dad, you can't do THAT, Dad!
Oh no, no.
I've got to stop him.
Well, here I am at long last, darling.
Get dressed as quickly as you can.
-We've got to get back!
-Something important's come up.
-Won't it keep?
Oh, I DO hope it will!
-Excuse me, W.C., have you seen my daughter this morning?
-She left Brighton with your son and hasn't been home all night.
-Myrtle has always commanded respect.
-I'm sure Lewis will see she gets it.
-That's what I'm afraid of!
-< RAISED VOICES
Looks like a show-down.
Listen! We are on official strike pending confirmation.
Until then there will be NO return to work.
What's the point if it means Boggs will close down?
That is not the point, Brother, so why don't you...stop making trouble?
All WE want to do is an honest day's work!
"All we want...!" Bolshie talk like that got this country in the mess it's in today.
The last thing we want is violence so at the first sign of anything
don't argue, don't get involved... bash 'em!
Well, we might as well go home.
-I don't reckon we'll have any more trouble.
-I don't know about that. Just look at this lot!
Blimey, my old woman's there! And mine!
-Mum, what are you doing here?
-I've come to knock some commonsense into you!
-Mum, not in front of everyone!
-You're ashamed. As you should be!
Shift your arse and let these people in to work!
Ladies, this strike is quite legitimate.
That's more than they say about you!
I must ask you all to disperse peacefully.
Disperse, crap! Are you going to MOVE?
-We must stand firm on our principles.
-It is the worker's democratic right
-to do whatever he likes.
-It is the democratic...
-Shut up and give me that, you squirt!
I should have done this years ago.
Will somebody open those damn gates?
Thank you, ladies.
We thought you might need extra help. We want to come back to work.
I really appreciate this moving gesture. Such a wonderful display of loyalty.
Cut the cackle and let's get on with the work!
-Well done, Beattie, you can go home now.
-But I thought I'd stay on. Make a change for me.
-Oh, all right then, come on.
-Brothers, you're not going to let a bunch of women tell you what to do?
-Don't they always?
Don't let's give in like this. Be firm. Make a stand. Has it all been for nothing?
-Bernie, DO something!
-I don't know about YOU blokes, but I'm not going to let any woman take MY job!
Now, then, come on, let's get back to work.
Go back to work, but don't expect me to join you! Nothing on earth would get me back in.
Nothing on earth, I tell you!
Excuse me, but they sent me from the Exchange. I'm the new canteen girl.
-Can you tell me where I go?
-Yes, I'll show you where it is.
We've got a lovely pair of canteens here.
What's going on?
-Chlo, about last night, when you asked me in for tea?
-What about it?
I wanted it BADLY. The tea, I mean.
-It's a bit late for that now.
-No, there must be another chance. Next year? Even sooner, perhaps?
-Getting on all right, then?
-YES. I think I might take a job here.
-Seems more sensible than talking to a bird all day.
There's no harm in talking to a bird.
Well, you should know. Here you are.
And I could come on the outings with you.
-What do you want?
-Eh...well, I'm still employed here, aren't I?
-Unless YOU want to fire me.
-Supposing I did?
-That'd be victimisation.
-But I want it understood, I'm only doing so under protest.
FLUSHING OF TOILET
-Better now, Maudie?
-Oh! Oooh, Mr Plummer!
-Myrtle, where the hell have you been?
-It's all right, we're married.
-Yes. I hope you don't object, Dad.
-Dad?! My daughter marries into management and you ask if I object? I DO!
-But you're management too.
How dare you insult me like that! I'M Works Foreman.
-Didn't Dad tell you?
-In return for the financial help he's making you a director.
-Oh, NO! I'm a worker. I don't want to sit on my fat...
-Come on, Lewis, we better go.
-I'll kill that bloody budgie!
-Here, Vic, there's no paper in that loo.
-What was that, Bern?
-I just said, there's no paper in that toilet again.
-There's a situation.
-Don't just stand there.
-Nip out and buy a couple of rolls.
Come on, don't hang about. Carry on working.
Subtitles by Hazel Nairn BBC - 1987
E-mail us at [email protected]
Classic British comedy with the Carry On team. A shop steward finds himself at loggerheads with the management at a lavatory factory. Much to his chagrin, his daughter is dating the boss' son, but his mood improves when he discovers that his hitherto mute budgie has a very special, and potentially lucrative, talent.