Eurgh, yuk.
What's up with thee?
Oh, look, Foggy's found some bird droppings.
It couldn't happen to a nicer fella!
Shut up. Where is it?
Well, right now it's oozing between the second and third fingers of my right hand.
I want you to promise me, Foggy,
when we get to the caff this morning, you'll let somebody else pass the buns.
It looks like a woodpigeon's.
It would damn well have to do it right where I put my hand.
Don't wipe it down my jacket.
Maybe it just looked like he was wiping it on your jacket.
It's an impression you can easily get when somebody's...
There he goes again!
..wiping his hand down your jacket.
Uggh... groan.
Aargh...
how far is it to the ground?
About 18 inches.
Oh, God, I'll never make it.
Aaaaaargh.
Well, I've heard of no head for heights, but you've got no legs, arms, or eyes for it.
I like it on the ground.
I really like being here on the ground.
Aw, look at me jacket.
What are you griping about?
Just look at me jacket!
Precisely, just look at it.
I've never seen anything that nature intended more for wiping bird droppings on than that.
What you pulling a face for?
Bit of that won't hurt thee.
No? I notice the pigeon soon got rid of it.
It's the only thing that worries me about going to heaven...
..would I ever get used to the height?
That looked like Sid from the caff.
What, sneaking about with a bedroll?
Well, anything's an improvement on his SAUSAGE rolls.
If that were Sid, he's up to no good.
Phwoar, the lucky beggar!
Let's not jump to conclusions,
there's probably some perfectly reasonable explanation.
He's having it off with a bird.
There you are then, I told you there'd be some reasonable explanation.
Let's not start spreading gossip.
I mean I don't approve of this sort of thing but his secret is safe with us.
We're not women to be tittle-tattling about this sort of scandalous thing.
It'll be that big dozy bus conductress he's always talking about.
I must say, in circumstances like these, my suspicions tend
spontaneously towards her behind the bacon counter at the Co-op.
It's just like Sid, he's never happy unless he's getting his divvy.
I've seen the way he looks at that bus conductress
like a stamp collector with a Penny Black, just dying to lick her and stick her in his album.
He wants to watch her, she hit me once with her ticket machine.
Only because she hadn't got anything heavier.
He's not here.
And she's looking for someone. She's looking for Sid!
Yes, look, if she starts asking you questions, you've got to be very careful here not to drop him in it.
Wouldn't it be rotten to drop him in it?
Nasty. Unthinkable.
Hey, I wonder if he can take a joke.
Three teas?
A-and three of your delicious buns, please.
HE HUMS
What are you looking at me for?
THEY WHISTLE
You're up to something, aren't you?
THEY HUM AND WHISTLE
Look at me when I'm talking to you!
Make up tha mind, tha were just complaining cos we were looking at thee.
What's going on?
Well, I'm trying to rub some feeling back where I was struck
with a spoon, and he's busy suppressing a scream of agony.
My compliments, madam, on your skill with the spoon.
You are acting very shifty.
Shifty?
Us? Never.
Who's gonna pay? He is. He is. He is.
Come on, whose turn is it? His.
His. His. Hup! Yes, erm...
three teas please, Ivy, and three buns... is it?
42p.
I don't know how he dare go messing about with other women.
She'll kill him.
A man has to do what a man has to do.
"Lecherous husband murdered with spoon."
Hello, where's your bun?
He's eaten it. Already?
It went like a ball down a drain.
They're dead easy, her buns...
and somebody else must be dead easy when she goes to meet a bloke
in broad daylight carrying a bedding roll.
# Keep your voice down, with a dee-diddle, um-dum dee. #
I mean, there's confidence for you, a bedding roll...
and all I ever had all my life was a very large handkerchief.
Have a bun. Have a bun.
Never mind "have a bun", what's this about a bedding roll?
Clang. Oh!
Tha's looking very tasty, Ivy, how do you keep that complexion?
No, not the spoon, Ivy, not the spoon!
Who have you seen with a bedding roll, and where was he, the swine?
Who have we seen with a bedding...
ooow!
Maybe we caught a glimpse.
Yes, just the faintest movement in the trees. Trees?
Whatever was he doing in the trees?
When I say "trees", I don't mean trees, I mean...
what's she going to do with that spoon?
It could have been anybody. Anybody.
Just this figure, flitting away.
Hello, we said, there goes anybody.
It was him, wasn't it?
Me own husband, heading for the trees with a bedding roll,
which he swore he'd only use for approved recreational purposes.
It was undoubtedly just what he was doing.
I know what he was doing.
He is your husband, Ivy, you ought to trust him more.
Oh-ho, give me one good reason.
Can I have time to think about that? I mean there must be something.
It's just the call of the wide-open spaces, Ivy.
Men have this thing. I know.
It's what they're always trying to do with it that irritates me.
Not Sid! No, not Sid. Never.
You just sit there and lie.
Naturally. He's our mate.
You can't trust him.
Well, you can, Ivy, if you look on the bright side.
Bright side? What bright side?
Well, you've got one great natural advantage, which should give you
confidence in him, and that is that Sid is basically, when you get
right down to it, fundamentally a genuine horrible-looking mess.
That is quite true. I mean, who's going to want him?
His ears are too big. And what about that haircut?
What idiot cuts it like that?
I do. Oh!
It's beautifully styled, Ivy.
He's got not personality, you see, not an ounce of charm.
There you are, you see, Ivy. Count your blessings.
It's true. The fool, he'd be hopeless as a hippy.
He's not cut out for it.
He goes all to pieces if he doesn't get good gravy.
What's this about a hippy? Who said he wants to be a hippy?
Not Sid, never.
I've seen the restlessness coming over him.
I've tried to talk him out of it. I keep hitting him.
Has he told you he wants to be a hippy?
Oh, no, no, he never tells me anything.
He just goes about sneakily, he's at that dangerous age.
Why dangerous? Because I'm going to kill him.
Naaa... Sid would never want to be a hippy.
Then why would he take a bedding roll?
Why does he keep sneaking out into the countryside?
There's some perfectly ordinary explanation.
Like what? He's chasing some bird.
WAILING
Very tactfully put. That's cheered her up a treat, that has.
Well, I thought it was better than letting her know he was going to be a hippy.
No, it isn't.
If he were going out and collecting wild flowers or picking mushrooms, that might be better than...
being a hippy.
Well, it's funny you should say that, Ivy,
cos we were only thinking this morning in the trees, weren't we?
We said, hello there goes Sid with his bedding roll, off to collect
some wild flowers or maybe pick... pick... pick some mushrooms?
Don't worry, Ivy, please don't cry.
You've still got me. Come, my love.
I will give you a little so-lace.
Well, he has his uses, you see.
It's the old training beginning to pay off.
He's developing a few manners.
Do you know when I first took him in hand he was no more
than an uncouth little scruff, but with the right tuition
he's becoming quite a couth little scruff.
SCREAMING
Aaaargh! You little devil.
I was just trying to cheer her up by showing that she's still attractive to men.
What did she hit you with?
I dunno, but it were worth it.
Come on, let's get you out of here.
Hey, Norm, I think I'm in love with Ivy.
I think Ivy is extremely handy on the spoon. Aye.
Old Sid must be bruised all over.
When you keep colliding with Ivy like that, it must be a bit like being knocked down by a tram.
It is. Ahhh, but it's lovely!
You know, I can't imagine anyone volunteering to tangle with Ivy.
Tha's got no soul.
He hasn't got any romance in his body at all.
Ah, but he has got a knife with attachments for opening cans.
Romance? I think it's disgusting, a chap your age.
Ey up. Just because I happen to have passed the first flush of youth...
wahaaa... a man is as old as he feels.
How old do you feel?
As old as they'll let me.
Oh, that Ivy, she's a powerful lass.
Urgh. Still, after a couple more pints I'll be fighting fit.
Do you think you could settle for just one more pint and being sort of moderately fit?
Oh, very well, Norm, if you insist.
Hast tha ever been in love, Foggy?
Mind your own business.
Ey tha's nowt to be ashamed of. I'm not ashamed.
I just don't wish to discuss my personal affairs in this...
cheap drinking establishment. Cheap?
Argh, you wait till you go up to buy your round.
I wonder if Cleggy's ever been in love?
Well, he was married, wasn't he?
Oh, aye, but that's always a major snag to your love life.
What sort of birds to you like, Foggy?
Are you absolutely sure you'll want another round after this?
Oh, pfft, he really is a cheapskate.
Mmmm. Well, you don't really mean it, you know.
You've enough excitement for one morning. Excitement?
What are you talking about?
My nerves are as steady as a rock!
God, you're shaking like a leaf.
Ah, yes, but then he is leading a life of sin and dissipation.
Only since I left school.
Norm, when your missus were alive,
did you ever go off pussyfooting it with another woman?
Don't ask questions of that... indelicate nature.
Well, the Army doctors used to.
They were always enquiring about my love life when I went sick.
Yes, well, medical men have their reasons for asking.
Not when you go sick with flat feet.
No, no, they was fishing.
They wanted to know about me and Brunhilde.
Brunhilde?
What? Where? Where?
No, I mean, who was Brunhilde?
Oh 'eck, I thought for a minute he meant she was here.
Why have you gone white? Well, nearly white.
Come on, tell us about it, who was this fabulous Brunhilde?
He does pick some weird names to go out with.
I've been out with weirder names than that.
Yeah, what was the strangest name you've ever been out with?
Cyril.
Why were the Army doctors interested in you and Brunhilde?
It wasn't only the Army doctors, it was the whole camp.
You see, Brunhilde was this great big ATS bird, and nobody else would
go out with her because she had this reputation for brutality.
Here we go.
No, no, it's the truth.
It's the truth, I'm telling thee. But I knew how to handle her.
With this whip and chair.
Hah, but they wanted to know about Brunhilde, you see,
because she had this big pin-up of a fella hanging over her bed.
Well, I imagine a lot of ATS girls had pin-up pictures over their beds.
Of Hitler?
God, he is a liar.
Ey up, there's Brunhilde! Hello, my love.
What are you talking about, you stupid lunatic!
Isn't it nice, she still remembers him.
This is Brunhilde Mark 2.
Come and sit down, love, and have a drink.
Well, sit down somewhere.
All right, I'll have just one.
Just one.
But if you're planning on getting me tipsy so I don't know what I'm doing, you can forget it.
Forget it.
I have forgotten it.
I'll have a brandy and ginger ale.
Well, go on, you invited her.
I tell you what, we'll go 50/50. I'll buy the ginger ale.
We'll be with thee in a minute, Nora, once he's got the combination.
Goes it? Oh, great.
Smacky.
Oh, yeah. Oh, wow, yeah.
Yeah. I wonder how he's getting on with the brandy and ginger ale, I think I'll go and see.
Norm?
I think I'll come up with thee, Norm.
What did you invite her for?
How did I know she were going to stay?
She usually gallops off when she sees me.
Maybe she's starting to appreciate you.
Norman, you could have a point.
Well, look, as soon as she's got that down her throat, get rid of her. How?
Well, you'll would think of something if you have to stand a brandy and ginger ale.
Oh, aye, I'd think of something, I can tell you.
There you are, my little chickadee, there's your brandy.
Who does she think can afford to get her tipsy till she doesn't know what she's doing?
Do something. Do something!
What? Oh, well, erm, nice to see thee, Nora.
I've got to be on my way now, I'm afraid.
You see, I'm breaking in this new bookie.
Have you seen my Wally?
What does she mean?
I mean me husband!
Have you lost him? That's a lie.
Why should I have lost him?
He'll have gone off somewhere, that's all.
He'll come back, won't he? Argh!
They always come back.
Ha-ha. Not today, Nora, not today.
She's squeezing my hand.
Pull her off. Pull her off.
Well, she's not hurting you. She's just upset, that's all.
That's a lie. Who's upset? Why should I be upset?
It's going numb. Nora!
Hold my hand, Cleggy goes to pieces if he's grabbed by a woman.
A man can get a nasty bite.
No, let's approach this logically.
Now when did you last see your Wally?
It wasn't the last. I shall see him again.
I know I shall see him again. It's not the end of the world
because your husband goes off with a bedding roll.
Is it? Ah! Ah! She's done it again. She's done it again.
Nora! Nora, dear. Don't distress yourself.
No, no, no. No, no, no. Wally would never abandon his pigeons.
If there's anything we can do.
Well... I'll have another brandy and ginger ale.
I think we owe it to those two abandoned wives to find out what's going on round here.
You're quite right, Foggy.
I'm feeling dead nosey, too.
Where is he? Oooh!
HE LAUGHS
You know, I think I am in love with Nora Batty.
We saw him about here,
and he went in that direction.
Just watch me.
You just watch me.
I'm willing to take advantage of every bit of natural cover.
Look. Foggy's already found something.
That's a damn silly place to let cattle wander.
So that's what they mean when they say, get your knees brown.
Wood smoke.
Oh, I though it were aftershave.
Old habits die hard.
He's probably doing a bit of cooking.
For the little people of the forest.
Ah, fairy chips.
There's no-one here.
There's no-one here. What? What?
What do we do now?
We wait, right here.
Well, we've got them trapped, haven't we?
You see, wherever they are they've got to come back to the fire,
and we'll be waiting. Right here.
What would happen if the sun went out?
There'd be a big rush on gas heaters.
It's not going to go out.
You can't be sure, it might.
Like the power stations.
So that's why he's been a scruff all his life, no point in caring if the sun's gonna go out.
Well, it might!
How the dickens can the sun go out?
Suppose God went...pfft!
Happy birthday to us.
I thought you didn't believe in God.
Listen, with the kind of luck I've been having on the gee-gees lately,
I believe in somebody who might just think it's funny to go...pfft!
Get off home. Don't be hanging around my campfire, get off home!
Is that you, Sid?
Get off home.
Well, that's a nice attitude to take to three regular customers.
You can take hint, can't you, when you're not wanted?
Sid, we've been eating your food for years, we couldn't have had a bigger hint than that.
A quid.
Don't be ridiculous.
Thirty bob.
Durs't tha mean thirty bob each?
Oh, shut up. We're not being a party to any attempt at bribery.
I tell thee what, Sid, for two quid we'll go, and for three we'll drag Foggy with us.
I'm staying here. Eurgh, he's got no flair for commerce.
Oh, yes, but then he's had his trouser knee in cow dung.
Now that's bound to unsettle your judgment.
Listen, we're all mates, aren't we?
Laa dee daaah. Laa dee daaah.
Let us come and get our clothes on.
Clothes? Clothes?
Ah, look!
Wha-hey!
My god, they have gone hippy.
Hey! No wonder he offered us money.
I bet them stinging nettles have got him right up to his false teeth.
How's he going to get home in that condition if the sun goes out?
Just throw our clothes over here, there's a good mate.
I tell you what we'll do, we'll turn our backs and you can come and get your clothes.
We won't look. Are you sure?
Of course we're sure. You're not to look.
No. Get on with it then, man.
All right. I-I-I'm coming first.
There won't be anything to see. You've not got to laugh.
As if we'd laugh. I mean who's gonna laugh?
The very idea. I'm coming.
TOGETHER: Get on with it!
Ey up! He's got bells on it.
Really! Let's give him the benefit of the doubt, they could be earrings.
We said we wouldn't look.
Agreed. Agreed.
It's the kid!
Is tha other suit at the cleaners then, Sid?
Pay no attention to them, Sid. You really look quite...
would you look at that hat?
You said you wouldn't laugh.
# He's got legs that jingle-jangle jingle. #
I knew folk would think it was hilarious.
They could be right.
A man's gotta do what man's gotta do.
Is there much doing in stagecoach and rodeo circles in this neck of the wood, Sid?
We're doing it for charity.
Little Miss Charity, the rancher's daughter,
I bet she's been kidnapped by these desperados. Mmm.
And all the townsfolk got together and elected Sid to form a posse.
I mean, just look at the size of him round the gun belt.
That's a flaming posse.
Watch it, short house.
I suppose it'll be him who's been rustling all those damned cattle
and treading them where people are bound to put their knees.
Put your flamin' hands down. You can't do anything round here
without your mates die laughing. That's why we're not doing it
for our vicar, but for him at Little Middlethong. What's tha doin' over at Little Middlethong,
robbing the Yorkshire Penny Bank? We ought to warn the sheriff.
Yeah, who is the sheriff at Little Middlethong?
Yeah, who is the head honcho down there, hombre?
That'd be her that runs the Red Lion, she's tough enough.
And look at the room she's got for pinning a star on.
Sid, will you kindly tell us what a pie and mushy peas merchant is doing in this hot tamale's outfit?
If you must know, we're part of a pageant.
Heh, which part? We're giving a fast-draw exhibition.
I've been doing that to Nora Batty for years.
Fast-draw, gun twirling exhibition. Ah well, of course, naturally, yes,
it goes without saying, I mean, what else would a bunch of Yorkshire lads be doing?
That. And we're also staging other associated scenes of the prairie.
You might as well come out, the rest of you.
Have they gone? No, they haven't gone.
Ey up, it's Wally Batty!
Not Wild Wally Batty? Howdy, old-timer.
Press off!
I knew it'd be a disaster. Rubbish. They're only jealous.
Every red-blooded male's got a secret desire to get dressed up like this.
Well, them three in the trees have had enough.
You've got a strike on your hands there, Tex.
Come back, you three. Where do you think you're goin'?
You can't pack it in now, we've got an audience waiting.
Now look what you've done, you've made me lose half my pageant.
What's the vicar gonna say? Reach for the sky? You what?
Well, it's what he's all about, isn't it?
Hello. How nice of you to have come. Are there any more of you? Oh, ho-ho.
Good afternoon. Good afternoon, Vicar.
Me Big Chief Corporal Sign Writer. Oh, yes. Very good.
Ah, good afternoon!
Me Mrs Chief Corporal Sign Writer.
Ah! Ha-ha-ha.
Good afternoon.
Me Little Gaping Fly.
He speak with forked tongue, him Big Gaping Fly.
Tomahawks.
Moccasins to you, too.
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