Oh... Here we are.
Your place. Your place.
La Maison de la femme.
El casa delseñorita.
Das Haus die Frau.
- Good night. - Uh...
- I... You know, I'll just walk you to the door. - There's no need. It's fine.
I can get there on my own.
So... I guess this is arrivederci
Quite fancy a cup of tea, though.
Glass of water, maybe?
- Perhaps a little lie-down. - Look...
I have to tell you something.
- What? - I wanted to say it in the restaurant, but...
a good time never came up, and I wasn't going to say it,
- but... - Say it.
I have to.
- What? - You've got shit on your head.
What?
- There's some shit on your head. - What?! Where?
- Where? - It's... It's been there for ages.
Oh, God.
It's chocolate! It's chocolate.
It's not shit. It's not shit. It's, um...
It's my dessert. I don't know how it got there, but, um...
It's on my fingers. It's not shit.
Thank God for that.
D'you know, I've just spent the last hour
thinking you were some sort of disgusting tramp.
Oh, no!
That's funny.
Oh! Look! It's...
It's... it's not. It's chocolate.
Oh! How about that cup of tea now?
I was a perfect gentleman last night from beginning to end,
but she can't see past a little bit of shit on my forehead.
- I thought you said it was chocolate. - Yes, chocolate. I meant chocolate.
I forgot to turn this thing on.
Hello, IT.
Something's wrong with my computer.
Have you tried turning it off and on again?
Uh, no. I'll do that Thanks.
You're welcome, mate.
It's typical. The one time I manage to bamboozle a girl in the building
into going out with me, and this happens.
- Oh, she's going to tell everyone. - Oh, come on. She's a receptionist.
She'd hardly gossip. And besides, it's a boring story.
Yeah. Yeah, it's boring. It's boring. She won't tell anyone.
Hello.
Sorry.
She might have told Jen.
No! No, that's what I'm saying. It wasn't. It was...
It was chocolate. It was chocolate.
I don't know. I don't know. It got on my fingers, and then it must have...
No... Listen! How did you even hear about this, Mum?
Moss. Moss, there's a spider in my office. Could you deal with it? I just hate spiders.
Oh. Ah. Yeah.
I'm not overly fond of them myself there, Jen.
Um, how... how...
How big is...?
Whoa! Hey, now.
I tell you what. I'd actually recommend my good friend Roy there
as the go-to guy on anything with more than seven eyes.
- Um... He's on a very brief personal call... - Come on, Moss. Don't be silly.
You're right, I'm being silly. Wrap it up, Roy!
No, it's just a spider. It's fine. It's just a spider.
Oh, look. It seems to have left of its own volition.
- Oh, be a man, Moss. - You're right. I'll be a man. I'm a man.
Please don't shut the door.
- I won't. - Goodbye, Jen.
That was my mother. How did she hear about it?
Oh, was that the woman who phoned earlier? Cos I've just been telling everybody.
Why would you want to go out with Patricia, anyway?
I mean, her last boyfriend was Simon, from third.
- Jen? - Hiya.
- Hello, there. - Have you caught it yet?
Not quite, Jen.
The spider's managed to walk behind me, and it's between me and the door.
So I can't get out.
Simon from third is the one with the hair.
Oh, him! Oh, he's awful.
He once ate a copy of Loaded for a bet.
- She liked him? - Apparently.
That explains everything. She likes the kind of big obnoxious guy who eats Loaded
Oh!
Hello, Daniel. How are you?
- I'm great, thanks. How are you? - I'm great.
Well, can either of you tell me, OK, uh, OK, who wrote Missa Brevis in D minor?
Was it Mozart or Beethoven?
That was a certain Mr Mozart, I think you'll find.
Oh, right. Do you know a lot about classical music?
- Un petit pois. - Oh. Right.
- Thanks. - Mozart, Beethoven. Fifty-fifty, isn't it?
- See what I mean? - Hey! Actually, no, you were right.
It was... it was Mozart. It was... OK.
So, let's try another one. Um... OK, here we are.
In what year did Mozart die? Was it 1780 or 1791?
- '91. - Yes. Yes! Bang on.
Wow.
God, I hope he doesn't come in again.
- Jen? - Yes?
Is Roy off the phone yet? The spider is now upon my person.
You guys don't mind me chilling out in here, do you?
No. Chill out.
Did you see the match last night?
- Oh, yeah. - Oh, yeah.
- God! - Did we?
- Wow! What a match! - Yeah.
- All of the players running up the pitch... - Players.
- Running. - ..and running down it again.
- Such athleticism! - What was Rooney thinking of, though?
Oh! Who knows? That's Rooney!
He is a foolish boy.
Yeah, but that referee... I'm sorry, the referee is just an idiot.
Yes. He was certainly the villain of the piece.
- Oh! Daniel. You're still here. - Yeah, just, uh, having a little break.
Do you, uh... do you want to come and join me?
Oh, stop it!
Well, I'd better...
By the way, guys. If you need any help with any more spiders, just, uh, give me a call, OK?
Yeah. We'll be fine, I think. Thanks.
Actually, do you have a card?
That's good. See you.
You like him.
Who? Oh, that good-looking man with "Security" written on his shoulder.
Yes! Yes, I do.
- He seems really nice. - Nice!
Oh, yeah. Cos that's what you women want. Nice guys.
Hello, IT.
- What are you talking about, Roy? - If my date last night proved anything,
- it's that you "ladies" don't want nice guys. - If your date proved anything, Roy,
it's that women like men without pooh on their foreheads.
That's our "type".
That had nothing to do with it. She clearly just didn't want a gentleman in her life.
I hate to generalise, you know that, but all women just want bastards!
Oh! That "women liking bastards" thing is a total myth.
I've tried turning it off and on again, and nothing happens.
- Is it definitely plugged in? - Let me have a look.
- Oh, sorry. That's it. Thanks very much. - You're welcome, mate.
It's just not true.
Women don't want gentlemen, they want bullies and thugs.
- I'll prove it to you. - How will you prove it to me, Roy?
Oh! OK. I'll put, uh... I'll put a classified ad online.
- A classified? - Yeah, like a "lonely hearts" thing.
But I'll make it sound psychotic. And I still bet I get a bezillion replies.
- Oh, dear God. - Come on. How much?
OK. Yeah. I'll give you 20 quid if you get one response.
- You're on. - Oh, my God, no.
It's... it's all about body fluids with you, isn't it?
- Come on, Moss. We need to get to work. - Work?
We need to post a classified lonely hearts ad online that makes me sound like a psycho,
so that I can prove to Jen that all women love bastards and therefore win £20.
Oh, thank God. I thought that thing was broken.
"Shut up. Do what I tell you. I'm not interested."
"These are just some of the things you'll be hearing if you answer this ad."
"I'm an idiot, and I don't care about anyone but myself."
"PS, no dogs."
- That's good. - What's yours?
- Mine doesn't look any good now. - Go on.
"I'm going to murder you...
you bloody woman."
Might want to play a bit hard to get.
If you were a murderer, what would your nickname be?
Mine would be "The Gardener", cos I'd always leave a rose at the scene of the crime.
What would your murder weapon be?
A hammer.
Hey, Moss.
Would you like to go for dinner with me?
And then maybe back to my place.
I'd love to, Jen, but I'm actually helping Roy at the moment.
No. No, no, no, no, no. Who does this remind you of, yeah?
Do you wanna go on a date with me?
Gandhi?
No, no. No, the other one. Bono.
- No. No, no, no. I was doing Roy. - Oh, yes, yes. It's like there was two of me.
Come on, get your money ready. Twenty pounds.
- Sorry, Jen, do you...? - Hey. Hello.
It's Security.
I hope I'm not in any danger.
Oh, my God.
It's not shit.
On my head, it's not shit. It's chocolate spread.
- Taste it. Look. - No!
Oh! No. No, that is... Oh! That's... Oh, God!
Ringo Starr?
I'll be wondering about that all night.
- How do you know about this site? - Oh, I'm a member.
Really? You do the whole "lonely hearts" thing?
I'm a 32-year-old IT man who works in a basement.
Yes, I do the whole "lonely hearts" thing.
So, as you can clearly see, it wasn't...
excrement, it was chocolate. I was playing a joke. It was chocolate.
Jen, it's OK. I've got it. Don't worry about it.
Listen, what are you doing tonight?
- I got a response! - Oh, that was quick.
Yeah. Why's it taking so long to download?
Oh, something happened with the routers this morning. We're back to pre-broadband speed.
"Dear..."
But we're on the phone now. Why can't you just ask me now?
I can't, Jen. Trust me.
- Why should I trust you? - Because I know what's good for you.
Listen, you have to be home between eight and nine tonight. Are you gonna be home?
OK. This sounds exciting.
Look, it might not happen, OK? But hopefully it will.
- I don't know if this is exciting or not. - Jen... Jen, it's exciting.
"Would be very interested in meeting up and talking it over. Love, Rebecca."
- Oh, my God. What did we write again? - It started with "Shut up."
Ooh!
Oh, there's more. "I attach a photograph for your approval. Or not!" Exclamation mark.
All right. Let's have a look at you, you mad thing.
Nice hair so far.
Eyebrows seem normal.
Two eyes.
That's the best amount of eyes.
Nice eyes, too.
It has to go wrong. She must have a shite nose.
Come on. Oh, do you remember the internet at this speed?
Up all night, and you'd see eight women.
- Good nose. - That is a good nose.
The mouth has to be wrong. There's gotta be something wrong with the mouth.
Now, that's a good-looking woman.
Shall I tell Jen we got a reply?
Roy?
Hello, Daniel? I mean, hello?
Jen? Uh, hello. It's Chris Tarranthere, from "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?"
- Oh, my God! Chris Tarrant! - Hello!
Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
The next voice you'll hear is going to be Daniel's,
but before I put you on with him, he's asked me to ask you a question.
OK. You can ask me a question.
Yeah. He wants to know if you'll go out for dinner with him tomorrow night
No, really? Yes! Yes, of course I will!
Of course I will! Yes! Yes, of course!
Yes, that's great Jen. Right now let me fill you in on what's happening.
Daniel's doing very well, although he has just used his "50-50". Now, here's Daniel.
Daniel, you've got30 seconds, starting from... now.
- OK. - Hello, Daniel.
Yeah, hi, Jen. OK, who composed "The Wooden Prince"?
(Was it A) Bartók, B) Chopin?
Oh. Oh.
- Did you see I'm a Millionaire last night? - Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? it's called.
- No, I didn't. - You are not going to Adam and believe this.
Um... OK, do these make me look like a bastard?
- Why do you want to look like a bastard? - I've got that date tonight.
She's expecting a monster. Do these make me look like a bastard?
They make you look like an idiot? Anyway, did you see it?
- What? - Do You Want To Be A Millionaire?
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?
Ah! Who wants to be a person who is wrong?
Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's happened?
- If I may? - Sure.
- Guess who was on it last night. - You?!
No. Daniel, king of men.
- Daniel was on Millionaire?! - Indeed he was, sir.
And it was the "Do You Want To Phone A Friend?"...
- "Phone A Friend". - Anyway.
- She was the "Phone A Friend"? - She was the "Phone A Friend".
You were the "Phone A Friend". Oh! What was the subject?
"Classical music" is the extraordinary answer to that question.
So who, of course, is Daniel, our esteemed temp security guard going to phone
but Jonathan Miller over here?
Daniel was on Millionaire. Too bad it wasn't "50-50".
- It was. - And?
- I got it wrong. - Oh!
I cost him £31,000.
It isn't funny, though. Now I have to go on a date with him.
Wow. The rules on that show have really changed.
No, you don't understand.
He asked me out on the show before I got the question wrong.
It was all very romantic, but now...
I don't think he likes me now!
And I don't want to go out with the biggest loser in England!
There you are, Daniel.
- Hello. - Hiya.
- We gonna go for this meal, then? - Yeah.
Yeah, I can't wait. I'm going to take you to one of my favourite restaurants.
Right.
I'll pay. It really is the least I can do.
Oh, my God. Did you see that look?
I have a dinner date with that man.
If I'm not here tomorrow, I want you to call the police.
Maybe not the best time to mention it, but also you owe me 20 quid.
What? You got a response?
- For the one that ended "No dogs"? - Yup.
- Oh, my God. Brilliant. More money gone. - The money Daniel lost wasn't really yours.
It would have been if I'd married him, Moss. OK, I need a good restaurant.
Maybe if he likes the food he won't beat me to death with a shoe.
I thought you said you were taking him to one of your favourite restaurants.
Haven't you got it yet? That's what I do.
I lie, I lie, and I lie,
and I lie!
Well, I went to a good place recently. Nice atmosphere. Food's great.
- Really? - Yes. What?
Sorry, I just didn't have you down as a restaurant person.
I'm a restaurant person. Why wouldn't I be a restaurant person?
Cheese string?
No, thanks. What's this place called?
- Mesijos. - Is that French?
French? No, it's English.
Oh. OK. Thank you, Moss. Yeah, I'll give that a go.
OK, I need a place to bring this girl that says "I'm a bastard".
Well, I went to a good place recently. Nice atmosphere. Food's great.
- It's got a bit of an edge. - Yeah? What's it called?
- Mesijos. - What is that? Spanish?
No. Spanish? It's English.
Mesijos.
Wa-hey! Okey-dokey. You get the firecracker nachos.
And you get the prawn bites with spicy salsa.
This, uh, seems an unusual place for someone like you to want to meet.
Yeah, well... Everyone needs a place to come to be alone.
Look at me, look at me! Yeah! Look at me!
Nah-nah, nah-nah-nah. Nah-nah, nah-nah-nah. Nah-nah, nah-nah-nah.
Can we get a clown over here, please?!
- You're a loner? - I'm a loner all right.
I'm just a...
lonely loner...
on a lonely road.
Alone.
- Do you always wear shades? - Always.
They help me hide the fact I'm always lying...
to women.
♪ Everybody's having, having fun, fun, fun
♪ Cos everything is nice, and everyone is friendly
♪ Lot of friendly faces having fun, fun, fun
♪ Cos everything is nice, and everyone is friendly
- ♪ Smile, and the world will... - Excuse me, excuse me.
It's just... It's not... Sorry, it's just not appropriate at the moment.
♪ Everybody's having, having fun, fun, fun...
Ah, ha ha! You're that bloke off the telly. Ah, ha ha!
And you must be the woman he phoned. Oh, ho ho! Brilliant.
Funniest thing I've seen in ages.
Ah, ha ha ha! Ah, ha ha ha ha!
Ah!
God, I'm a bastard!
Yes, so you keep saying.
Trouble is basically what I am.
Oh. Thank you.
You know something?
I don't think you're a bastard at all.
I am so.
I am a complete tool!
Oh, my God! No!
No, don't! Don't hit with that!
I know her.
- Hey! Whoa! What's going on? - Stay out of this, Fonzie!
- You're frightening the kids. - I don't care!
- Oh, you're a brute. - This bloke just insulted me.
Hey!
Be more careful with the clown shoe there, mister.
Just hold your head back.
Oh, God.
He caught me by surprise.
Oh, ho! Oh, when I see him tomorrow...
- Ooh! - That was his last day.
- Oh, thank God! - Oh, my God. Look.
If you're coming, can you just bloody hurry up? For God's sake!
I just need to take my shoes off.
They look like such fools.
- I'll call you a cab. Taxi! - No, no. That's fine. I'll get the night bus.
No, don't be stupid. It's cold. Taxi!
- Here. - Oh, God.
Here, you can have your twenty back. I don't really think the bet proved anything.
Taxi!
Thanks, Roy. I just wanted...
Night, then.
Just a lonely loner, walking down a lonely road.
Hi, girls. My name is Maurice Moss, or "Moss" for short.
Sorry about the sound quality, but I'm having to do this in the toilet of my mum's house.
She's watching "Diagnosis Murder" at full volume, and it drives me up the wall.
Don't worry, though. I'm sitting on the toilet but I'm not using it.
What?
- Moss? - Yes?
- What are you doing in there? - Number twos. Leave me alone!
Don't forget to flush the toilet Don't clog it up like you usually do.
I know! Just stop doing this! You're always doing this!
You're making it go back in!
Now, my type...
Visiontext Subtitles: Paul Murray