RADIO: Lovely. and who's the request for?
My husband, Kevin. What would you like to say?
Tell him I love him and I can't wait for the day when he comes home.
Ahh. How long is he going to be away?
About two years. Teriffic. So, if you're listening, Kevin,
wherever you are, whatever you're doing, have a nice day,
and this record's just for you.
# No, I can't forget this evening... #
Excuse me? Eh?
Can I cadge a lift? No, you see...
Beal. I've just been posted here. Oh! A brother officer!
Of course. Save me the cab fare. Aye...but I'd still claim for it!
What's laddo in for?
Oh, it's, er... It's better not to ask.
In my experience, if you know what a man's done,
it may prejudice you against him. Best to start clean.
Benefit of the doubt.
Find out what he IS, not what he was.
What you in for, son? Two years. I meant offence!
None taken.
We know HIS sort! See if he's still smiling next week!
It's bleak at this time of year,
but in the summer there are some lovely views.
Where's the nearest town?
There isn't one!
Heh! Got something to say?
You're as much prisoners as we are!
# Well, I can't forget this evening
# Or your face as you were leaving
# But I guess that's just the way the story goes
# You always smile But in your eyes your sorrow shows
# Yes, it shows
# I can't live
# If living is without you
# I can't live
# I can't give any more... #
SONG CONTINUES SOFTLY
One bunch of keys, one diary - tartan cover,
Sellotape, one return ticket - Covent Garden to Ongar.
That's one journey you won't be making for a while!
Ring.
That's my wedding ring.
Married, at your age? Daft!
RADIO: Nice one. Today's weather -
a maximum high of minus 2 degrees. Sleet and hail.
But that won't bring us down!
# In the deserts of Sudan
# And the gardens of Japan
# From Milan to Yucatan
# Every woman's every man
# Hit me with your rhythm stick Hit me, hit me!
# Je t'adore, ich liebe dich Hit me, hit me, hit me
# Hit me with your rhythm stick
# Hit me slowly, hit me quick Hit me! #
RADIO MUSIC CONTINUES
Pick that up, Ives!
What's YOUR name? Rudge.
"Mr Mackay." Mr Mackay.
There are only two rules in this prison, Rudge. Listening?
One, you do not write on the walls.
Two, you obey all the rules. All right?
Carry on.
# It's nice to be a lunatic! Hit me, hit me!
# Hit me!
# Hit me, hit me, HIT! #
DOOR SLAMS
# Do you see yon screw with his looks so vain?
# With his brand-new keys on his brand-new chain?
# With a face like a ferret and a pea for a brain?
# And his hand on his whistle in the morning. #
Is that you, Fletcher?
Is that me what, sir?
Satirical singing. "John Peel", sir?
Traditional, that is. Second only to my favourite, "Scotland The Brave"!
# Come where the 'ands are clapping Come where the toes are tapping
# Come where the Jocks are strapping down... #
Fletcher! Sir.
If you want to sing, I suggest you form a Slade Prison Glee Club!
Glee?!
Got any snout? What if I have?
If you have, all right.
If you hadn't, I'd offer you some. I got me own.
Fair enough.
Lennie Godber.
Fletch? I'm late. Read me this letter from the wife.
If you can't read, how do you know it's from the wife?
It's got her scent.
Oh, dear! Does she work in a tarpaulin factory?
Come on, read it for me. All right, I'll give you the highlights.
"Dearest Bunny, Blah, blah blah,
"blah blah, blah, blah...
"blah blah, blah... Blah-blah what? Just trivia.
The weather, her mother's catarrh,
she's retiled the lav, the canary's got haemorrhoids...
..she's met a welder at the Fiesta Club
and she might move in with him. All right? Can't hang about.
We haven't got a canary!
These men are gainfully employed in the manufacture of prison uniforms.
Could open my boutique when I get out.
That'll do, Armstrong!
In the other workshop, men are making metal dustbins.
Then there's the electrical shop, maintenance, laundry and farm...
Wearing make-up again, Whittaker?
Only a touch of rouge, Mr Mackay. Get it off!
Anyone got any cleansing cream?
Get a lot of that, sir?
Insubordination? Poovery.
Inevitable.
We put them all in G Wing, or as we call it, Married Quarters!
I don't understand it myself, sir. Never did.
Don't let that show, Mr Beal. My attitude is, whatever he is,
each man here is as despicable as the next one.
Very fair-minded, sir. I like to think so.
FLETCHER YAWNS NOISILY
Afternoon, Mr Barrowclough.
Busy, Fletcher? Oh, yes, sir! Busier than ever.
Still, I never complain.
I can't actually see what you're supposed to be doing.
The pigs, sir - they won't eat without my reassuring presence.
Very highly strung, your average pig.
Who's he? Oh...Rudge.
Newly assigned to the farm. How'd he work that? Pardon?
First day inside? The farm? Is he the Guv'nor's nephew?
No, no, a first offender. Admin thought it best.
Gawd knows we need all the help we can get. 'Ere, lad.
What? Shovel it.
Shovel what? That. Where? From here to there. Why?
Why? Ah, if only we knew that, but we don't!
"Ours not to reason why, ours but to clean the sty." Wordsworth.
Yes, well, you'd better do as Fletcher says.
This job IS a privilege, you know. For the pigs, yeah.
Look, set that lad an example.
Obviously, he's been foolish to finish up inside here.
Show him that, with a bit of graft, he can make a success of life.
Success? Oh, yeah, I'll tell you about success!
I had a pal, came to London 28 years ago
without two ha'pennies to rub together.
He scraped up the money for a handcart,
and he went round collecting old newspapers.
Know what he's worth today? No, what?
Nothing! And he still owes for the handcart!
The farm. Afternoon, Mr Mackay. Mr Barrowclough.
The farm produces a modicum of what the prison eats.
We have livestock - pigs, poultry - and allotments for the older lags.
Ah, yes.
No guided tour of Slade Prison would be complete
without meeting Fletcher, Norman Stanley.
Afternoon, Mr Mackay, Mr Beal.
How do you know my name?
Word gets round. Doesn't take long.
I expect you're already a legend on some bog walls!
Typical recidivist. Been doing porridge most of his life.
NEVER - I repeat, NEVER - give him the benefit of the doubt.
Oh, sir. You know me - bide me time, keep me nose clean.
I'm no bother. Long to do? Long enough. What you in for?
Got caught.
Got the picture?
What sort of pie is this?
Fruit pie. I realise that. What sort of fruit?
I dunno. Comes out of a tin marked "Fruit Pie Filling".
So we have no clue to its origins?
No, it's NOT oranges. More like...
..plum or damson.
What's the hold-up?
The defrocked dentist's having a go at the cuisine again.
Move along!
This food has not one ounce of nutritional value!
Come on, Egon Ronay! Shift yourself!
That's the matter with you people, Fletcher!
None of you exercises their right to complain!
If you don't move on, my son,
I'll exercise my right forearm down your throat.
That'll do.
Put your complaint in writing. Would it do any good? No.
'Ere, Len. Do the laddo a favour on his first day.
Give him a small portion.
You're not doing yourself any favours, Banyard.
You're getting up other people's noses.
We have rights! We don't. We're in the nick.
I suppose you think you're entitled to something better
because you went to a public school.
On the contrary, Ives, I'm used to this kind of food -
I went to Harrow!
That's a good advert for the public school system, eh?
Prepare you for the nick.
It's worse for him cos he has had further to drop.
Professional man. Dentist. Tragic.
Tragic?! No laughing matter for that woman he had under the laughing gas!
There's no need for that, Ives. No need to unearth the past.
I'm paying for my peccadilloes.
If you're paying, I'll have a large one!
What's a peccadillo?
A South African bird -
flies backwards to stop getting sand in its eyes.
No. I know what you mean, though.
It's an animal. Called the armourdildo!
"Armourdildo"?
No, no, that was King Arthur's codpiece!
I think that's what I'm eating an' all.
TOILET FLUSHES
Don't worry, it may never 'appen. It HAS. I'm here!
Now, look. Whatever you're in here for, you did it, didn't ya?
Bang to rights, yeah. Yeah.
Like me. If we hadn't been caught, we'd have been Jack the Lad, eh?
But we was collared. And that's that. So don't bleat!
If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. I ain't bleating! Good!
Prison is like life, you know.
You need something to believe in in here.
Something to hang on to so you don't go under.
You can't buck the system. It's mad to try.
But you CAN lift the heart with an occasional little victory.
Well, nice talkin' to you, Rudge.
Oh, one more thing.
Don't hang about here too long. Ambush Alley they call this.
Not a safe place in a nick.
You get 'em all in here -
transvestites, homosexuals, drug addicts, the lot.
When someone walks in, just sits down and gets on with it,
it's like a breath of fresh air!
WATER RUSHES Oi!
RADIO: Most areas of the Home Counties
were again affected by major power cuts.
Talks between the Government and the union were broken off
following their rejection of a 40% increase.
The weather - freezing fog and black ice...
Shoes all right, Mr Grout?
OK, on your way, Jacko.
MUSIC: The Archers Theme Tune
I don't like the look of that new 'un.
What's his name? Beal? Yeah.
Put me king back.
What are you incinerating?
It was there!
Was it? Maybe I jogged the table. Maybe the wind blew it.
That's why they're called draughts, you know. The wind blows them about.
Put it back, then.
Put it where you like if winning's that important to you.
I'll have it where it was, thank you.
I don't mind losing, so long as it's fair and square.
Show you a man that laughs at defeat,
and I will show you a black chiropodist with a sense of humour!
Almost lock-up, Mr Beal. Then I'll buy you a jar.
I wouldn't say no, sir.
The prison officers have a club, known as the Prison Officers' Club.
It was formerly the old coke store before we converted to gas.
It's basic but they've worked wonders with paint,
a few horse brasses and some imagination.
I look forward to it, sir.
Oh...sorry, Mr Mackay. What are you up to?
Really, Mr Mackay! You're always up to something.
This is Ives, Mr Beal. Horrible Ives. Aren't you?
If you say so, sir.
Don't be cheeky, Ives!
BELL RINGS LOUDLY
What a shame. Just when you was poised for victory.
Don't worry. We'll continue this tomorrow.
IF I'm free. I shall have to consult my social diary.
"Well, that's all I have time for.
"There's the ironing to do before Starsky and Hutch.
"Needless to say, I love you and miss your loving..."
"..arms", I think it is. Yeah, it would be.
Then there's lots of hugs and kisses. Nice letter.
So there's nothin' in here about a welder or a canary?
No, I would have noticed.
'Ey! What? There weren't no welder or a canary!
And I never thought there were, neither!
What's he on about? Search me.
Stir crazy, perhaps.
How did that kid, Rudge, wangle the farm? Charm!
He's been in his cell since chow, just sat starin' at the wall.
Well, it's his first experience of your cottage pie!
Best not to move about after that.
He's only a kid. Oh, dear. Listen to her!
I remember how I felt on my first night when that door banged shut.
Go and have a word with him. Why? Well, you're good at it.
You perked me up when I first come inside.
I broke you in, Godber, because you was forced upon MY cell.
It was in my interest
not to have a manic depressive in the bottom bunk!
Suit yourself. I will, I will.
Oh, dear. You owe me darning wool. I gave you some!
In exchange for the orange.
Tangerine.
Besides, that was to pay me for the stamp. What stamp?
For your pools.
I paid that with my toothpaste! That was for the darning wool.
I'm not going to argue with you all night! Have you got any?
Yeah. Well, are you gonna give me some or ain't ya?
Yeah.
What? Free, gratis and for nothing? Yeah. Cobblers!
ALL AWAY!
Let's have them away now!
RESOUNDING SLAM OF DOORS AND LOCKS
All away!
Let's have them away!
Evening, all. IN UNISON: Mr Mackay.
Evening. What will you have, sir? No, no, no, my shout.
Henry? Oh...oh, no. I-I must be off soon.
Nonsense! Give him the same again.
Mr Beal and I will have a pint of your finest.
I'll have a dram on the side. Purely medicinal.
Snug in here, don't you think?
Very nice.
Any suggestions, put them to the Committee,
of which I happen to be Chairman. I will, yes.
A club like this gives the men a chance to unwind
at the end of the day, have a few laughs. Right, Henry?
Oh...yes. It's...invaluable in that respect.
A welcome sight! The first today.
Here's to you, Mr Beal. And you, Mr Mackay.
What you had to say was very instructive, sir.
Well, one does one's best to be helpful. Very helpful. Cheers.
Bottoms up. Oh...down the hatch.
No, it's not a glamour profession.
We're underpaid, understaffed and overlooked.
Even though every time we walk these landings,
we put our lives on the line.
If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
The public never hears of us, except adversely,
when some namby-pamby politician takes up the case of a psychopath
who claims we've been less than gentle.
What do they know, sir?
That's why we're a pretty tight bunch here. Unified!
Unified in the face of criminal hostility and public indifference.
That's why this place is important to us.
Where the hell IS everybody?!
SHOUTS AND LOUD MOANS
SHOUTS CONTINUE
AGONISED MOANS AND CRIES
You awake, Fletch?
No.
It's that bloke, Atkinson. Mm.
Keeps getting these terrible nightmares. Mm, yeah.
He told the shrink but he just gives him aspirin.
You have to feel compassion, don't you? Mm.
A human soul in such torment.
A PIERCING YELL
Belt up, Atkinson, you noisy scrote!
Come along, let's be having you!
Morning, Atkinson. Sleeping better?
I slept like a top till some stupid cretin started shouting!
What's the rush, son? Watch where you're going.
You should watch where you're standing.
What's your name? What's it to you?
There's no problem here, Mr Lassiter.
Name's R-rudge.
My name's Harry Grout. Don't think we've had the pleasure.
These are my friends, Samson and Delilah.
Samson got his nickname because of the muscle.
She got hers because of her striking resemblance to Hedy Lamarr.
Grouty, listen to this! What?
You know Robbie Patton in the laundry?
Well, his wife wanted a divorce so she goes to a solicitor.
He says, "You've got to have grounds.
"First, there's insanity."
Robbie's a dipstick but he's not certifiable, eh?
"Then there's desertion."
Well, he can't go nowhere in here!
"Third, cruelty."
As you know, he wouldn't hurt a fly.
"So that leaves adultery."
"What's adultery?" she says. So he tells her.
"I think we got him!" she says.
"He is not the father of my child!"
Good, innit?
Thought you'd like it! Can I have laddo?
We mustn't be late for work. All right? Come on, lad.
"Not the father of my child!"
Very funny!
I don't get it! Never mind.
Who was that fellow on the landing? Harry Grout. He runs this nick.
Ain't that the Governor's job? Only officially.
Next time, bow, curtsey, or lick his boots if that's what he wants.
Thanks.
RADIO: Are you ready to do the sluice?
The Listermint Sluice!
JINGLE PLAYS
Grout?
Yeah?
Ah...er...shouldn't you be at your place of work by now?
Normally I would be, Mr Barrowclough but I'm gonna see the MO.
Oh, I'm sorry. Nothing serious, I hope?
Never been better.
VIOLENT COUGHING
Oh...er...do you want to go next, Mr Grout?
I mean, I-I'm in no rush.
I'm afraid you'll all have to clear off.
I need this room for a meeting.
On your way, lads.
I don't know what this is about, but I require urgent treatment!
My boil needs lancing.
Hop it or I'll have one of my lads do it.
We haven't met.
I'm Harry Grout.
Everybody knows that.
Bill Oakes.
I know your form, Oaksey.
You're no second rater. You was moved 'ere from Wakefield...
..where you obviously kept your nose clean.
Halfway through a 12-stretch for armed robbery. That's right.
A big tickle, your last job.
I hope the money's safely tucked away.
Someone's been investing it for me.
Safe as prefabs, then! That's why I want out.
I wish to unfreeze my assets and take off to the sun.
I can see how you would!
There'll be appropriate recompense to your good self. Yeah...
I like the word "recompense".
I was thinking in the region of... No, I'll tell you MY thinking.
5,000 - three before, two after.
It's only fair the lion's share's up front.
Once people take off to the sun,
they can get careless about tidying their affairs.
Where do you want it put?
Hastings & Thanet Building Society, Bexhill Branch.
How long will you need? Up to three months.
Supposing you don't spring me?
Then you get your money back.
Mind you, I keep the interest. 9.25%, tax paid.
Next.
Oh. Where have they all gone?
They got better, Doc.
You look down in the mouth, Mr Barrowclough.
Nothing new. Same old story. Domestic crisis, you know.
Oh, dear. Has Mrs Barrowclough left you?
Unhappily...
..no, Fletcher.
KNOCK ON GATE
Wait.
Morning.
# She wheels her wheelbarrow
# Through streets broad and narrow Crying "Cockles..." #
Ooh! He loves all that, you know!
# "..and mussels, Alive, alive-o!" #
I told you to wait in the car!
# She wheels her wheelbarrow
# Through Willesden and Harrow
# Crying... #
Watch for him - he's the Mad Butcher of Slade Prison!
What did he do? Fiddled the VAT on his sausages!
Where are you taking that? Pig swill. What?!
Swill for the pigs. Pig swill.
It's Fletcher, isn't it?
Yes, sir! Settling in all right, sir?
Never mind if I am or if I'm not.
I wouldn't leave that bike there, sir.
When I want your advice, I'll ask for it.
Suit yourself, sir. But there ARE thieves in here.
Whose side are you on - our or theirs? Neither. Mine.
It lacks something, Lotterby.
With this soup, Elizabeth David recommends coriander, bayleaves
and a dash of pepper.
I said a DASH, Lotterby!
Argh! I've cut the top of me finger off! Ow!
Stop fussing! Show me!
No! Gerroff! Stop making such a fuss!
What's going on?! Oh, shame.
This man has had an accident, sir.
Let's see, Cooper. Carry on, the rest of you!
I-I thought I'd cut the top of me finger off...
..but it seems it's still there...sir.
Is that your bicycle, Mr Beal?
Yes, as a precaution I brought it indoors.
Into this thieves' kitchen?! Ask yourself, was that wise?
Er...what would they want with it, sir?
The Lord alone knows. Rob now, think later, that's their motto!
What's on the menu today, Godber?
Creme Dubarry, sir, and curry.
Curried what? Er...meat, sir.
What meat?
I don't know. It just says "Tinned Meat" on the tin, sor.
Ladle.
He sees himself as a curry expert
on account of his posting in the army. India?
No, Bradford.
Very fair, Godber, very fair.
Perhaps just a dash more curry powder?
Right, sir. Er... Lotterby, curry powder.
HE SNEEZES
GLASS SHATTERS
Hanky, sir?
Blow! I can't breathe! The doctor! The MO...? Get the doctor!
Hello, Len... Hi, Fletch.
FLETCHER RINGS BICYCLE BELL
So that's what you got? Yeah.
It's hardly been used. What will YOU use it for?
I dunno.
Why'd you nick it?
Well, he'd got one and I hadn't!
I wonder why Mackay hasn't come down on us like a ton of bricks.
I tell you why. He lost something in the kitchen, that's why.
What, pride? No. Shift your backside. Why?
It's hidden in your mattress.
So if we get a search, I get blamed! Oh, yes.
You think of everything. I try.
Have a look outside, see if one of them's about.
OK. Shut your eyes.
Open up.
Teeth! Yeah, Jaws Three! Look...
HE HUMS THE JAWS THEME
Get off! How'd you get 'em? Mackay sneezed 'em into the curry.
I'm not sleeping on THEM. Half a set can't bite you!
No, no, they're red hot. He'll turn the nick over looking for them!
He'll negotiate first. Bit risky.
You know what they say -
"Nothing dentured, nothing gained!"
Listen, Fletcher...
Ives, knock before you come in here!
Who is it? Ives!
Clear off!
Listen, Fletcher! Grouty wants to see you.
RADIO: Before we get to your last record,
how well would you look after yourself on this island?
Are you good with your hands?
Yes, I'm a farily practical person. I do my share around the house.
How's the diet going? All right?
RADIO: This is the recording you've chosen.
Desert Island Discs. Oh, yeah.
An ambition of mine, to be on that programme. Yeah.
Nice threads, Grouty. Yeah, feel that.
100% cashmere. Lovely.
He's doing me one in barathea for the warm weather. IF it comes. Yeah.
On your way, Tink.
RADIO SWITCHES OFF
Now, then. Er...yeah. Er, if it's about the teeth...
What? Of course you are entitled to first refusal.
Are you referring to Mackay's missing molars?
I presume that's why I was sent for. Nothing escapes you.
Oh, no, Fletch. If you've got 'em, that's YOUR tickle. Oh, good!
Oh, no. I wanted to talk to you about something else.
Oh, dear. I had this notion.
A football match.
Showbiz celebrities come up 'ere,
give the lads a boost. Good for morale.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Lovely, Grouty.
I know a bloke in the Smoke who could organise it.
First thing's to get the Guv'nor's blessing.
The Guv'nor would do anything for you! Yeah.
YOU suggest it, Fletch.
Why me? Because you can be trusted and I know you'd do it subtle.
Oh, yeah! And if anything went wrong,
it would all come back on ME. That's right!
Don't know why I didn't think of that myself!
I'll do it, sir,
but I'm not happy that we should kowtow to these people.
If we do this kind of thing, isn't there a danger of a loss of face?
Dat's noding compared to my loss of teef!
RADIO: The outlook for the weekend is little change.
That's the weather, folks.
If you're thinking of going out, my advice is "Don't!"
What's that?
A Spitfire. Saved our skins in the war, them and the Hurricanes.
That's what I'd like to have been - a fighter pilot.
Up over the white cliffs of Dover, a quick dogfight with the Luftwaffe,
then back to the mess for bacon and eggs and a sing-song.
Er...could I have a word, Fletcher?
I'm busy, Mr Barrowclough. Do you mind?
If you insist, sir.
Have to call it a draw, Hedley.
In private, if you don't mind.
Oh, yeah? Delicate matter. Oh! Step in the office.
I'm here at the request of Mr Ma... er, one of my senior colleagues.
Well, I-I think you know that...
I know that you know...what I know.
Do I?
The grapevine says you could put your hand on what he hasn't got.
If he hasn't got it, how could I put me hand on it?
And if he HAS, I'm not sure I want to! Don't be obtuse, Fletcher!
We both know what we're on about!
And I want you to know, I heartily disapprove.
Oh, so do I, sir! So do I!
But we are just the go-betweens, here to maintain the status quo.
Unless we come to an arrangement, they go in the auction on Sunday.
Ah...yes.
My task is to ensure that the item in question
is restored to its rightful place.
To wit, his mouth. Do we see eye to eye?
Yeah! You know what they say -
"An eye for an eye and a tooth for a mouth!"
Clear off!
I have been authorised to go up to a fiver.
The quicker you go up to it, the better!
Hang it all, I would like to make a token gesture towards bargaining!
Sorry, sir, sorry. Bargain away.
£3.50? A fiver.
Done.
You certainly have been!
It was a 50-50 ball and he bottled out!
I'll have you for that. Go on!
Afternoon, Mr Beal. Afternoon, Fletcher.
Football fan, are you? I love the game, sir.
It's good for the lads.
Teaches 'em things in life, like give an' take, fair play...
Put the boot in, E-Wing!
I used to play a bit, in goal.
Yeah, I can see you as custodian.
Not much would get past you, eh, Mr Beal?
Come on, somebody!
I WAS fairly useful. Essex Methodist League, Runners Up in '69.
Oh, my word, sir.
What the lads really need is more motivation. Hm?
It's a pity someone in authority
don't get one of them showbiz teams up here. Work wonders for morale.
Show business? Yeah.
I know a bloke in the Smoke who runs that sort of thing.
Really? Yeah.
Been nice talkin' to you, Mr Beal.
Yes, on your way, Fletcher.
Another, my good man. Oh, my round, sir. Thirsty work, eh?
Top that one up. It keeps me in trim, though. So I see, sir.
A lot of talent in the men but...they lack motivation.
Well, they can hardly join a League, Mr Beal.
They can't play away matches!
Er...I know a chap in London who organises charity matches.
Show business, that sort of thing.
He might be willing to bring a team up here. Show business?
It'd work wonders for morale, sir. Morale, eh?
Morale.
Morale, Mr Mackay? Could work wonders, sir.
A team from outside, a sprinkling of celebrities.
Put Slade on the map, sir. Local press, that kind of thing.
This idea hasn't come from the prisoners, has it? Oh, no, no!
Off the top of my head...
Yes...well...I'll give it some thought. Very good, sir.
It's on. I heard. Well done, Fletch. Any time, Grouty.
Now we need someone reliable as trainer.
Not me! I'm disenchanted with the game.
20 years of supporting Orient does that to a man!
I insist.
Oh. In that case, it is my privilege.
LENNIE: Come on, Oaksey. You're flagging!
I heard Rod Stewart's coming. Unlikely - he's a tax exile!
Who gives a monkey's? We're getting double rations!
Come on, then Oaksey! Shift yourself!
Well done, lads, well done.
Remember, early night tonight.
No creeping off down the pub, all right?
Oh, I didn't see you, sir.
A strange choice for trainer. Well, it's the lads what decreed it, sir.
They took a vote, know what I mean? I heard.
Yet you have always despised physical activity.
Oh, not in others, sir.
We've got plenty of strength at the back. We're not short of stoppers.
What we need is creative mid-field flair.
Rudge could provide that. Revelation, he was.
Says he had a trial for Brentford, before his trial for shopflifting.
I can believe it.
Have you,er... Have you chosen the final team, like? Not yet, no.
Want a bit of Kit-Kat? What? Oh, ta!
You must have a rough idea, though. A nucleus, like.
Well, it's taking shape.
Have you got any socks need darning? Yeah, I have!
I thought I played quite well today. Did ya? Well, I thought so.
I scored one. What? Urquhart's shot? It just hit your ear as it went in.
No, that was a cunning deflection.
Oh, yeah?
Oh, gawd!
So, er...how d'you rate my chances, then, Fletch?
Chances? Of what?
Making the team!
Slim.
Darn your own naffin' socks!
Oaksey! You're in for armed robbery so try and steal the ball!
In the spirit of things, Fletcher?
Afternoon, Mr Treadaway. how do you rate our chances?
Difficult to tell, sir. Don't know what we're up against.
Have you heard any more about who's coming? It's still rather vague.
There IS talk of David "Diddy" Hamilton and one of The Goodies.
A right novelty amongst these baddies!
Is that all? No, but these people have commitments.
It's hard to pin them down.
Your head's going down, Godber!
We had a letter from Michael Parkinson. Is HE coming?
He says that he would have come, but he isn't.
But we have the letter on file.
Didn't you mention that comedian chap?
What's his name - Jimmy Tarbrush?
Buck, sir. Yes, Buck Tarbrush.
Well, unhappily, he's indisposed, sir.
Oh, dear.
"Buck Tarbrush"!
We'll be lucky to get Basil Brush!
WHISPERS: Look out. Mother Superior.
The visitors' changing room, sir. Our lot will change next door.
Are we painting that, too? Certainly not! Good.
And any valuables? To be left in the coach. Wise.
Who are these fellows? Whittaker and Whalley.
I picked them for their artistic bent.
Well, we're bent! Mmm, I know.
Carry on.
Get that eye shadow off, Whittaker!
Afterwards, we could have a little reception in the Officers' Club.
I don't think so - such an inhospitable place.
But, sir, I've brightened it up with some horse brasses!
And the MO's wife donated a stag's head!
I still think they'd be more comfortable in the Plough and Sail.
Excuse me, I'd like to go through. They're all engaged.
Look, I have rights! I'm desperate for a pee!
This is blatant intimidation! It's time you people realised...
Hello, Fletch.
Hello, Grouty.
I intend to go through that door and no-one is going to stop me!
THUMP! Argh!
So?
Let's hear the team, then!
Yeah...er, Ronnie Simkin in goal. Lesser of two evils.
Tom Armstrong, Steve Callaghan,
McLaren, Nifty Small, Mini Cooper, young Rudge, of course, and...
FLETCH COUGHS ..Wellings and McMillan.
Doug Hayward, Urquhart and Lennie Godber.
Subs, we got Bunny Warren, Adams and Jacko, in case it gets ugly.
Sounds a fairly well-balanced side.
Yeah, we've got youth, experience, flair and brutality.
Only thing was...
..I didn't hear Oaksey's name in there.
No, I think Oaksey would admit that he is not a footballer.
Yes, I am.
Well, a footballer, maybe.
But I mean, you're not as fit as the younger lads.
Yes, I AM.
Er...I was basing it on the fact
that he cannot tackle, pass, trap or dribble!
He throws in well, mind.
He's playin'. He's not!
Yes, I AM.
Is he?
Oh, yes.
Oh, look, your name was down here all the time, Oaksey!
It's just I've spelt it McMillan.
Come on, Fletcher! You're late. All right.
DOOR SLAMS SHUT
I've had it with you!
What? You've got up my goat these last two weeks! Wrong!
I GET your goat, not GET UP your goat!
I get UP your nose or ON your wick!
Just lately, you've done all three!
You never miss an edge, you!
Running around like a tinpot Napoleon, drunk with power.
I've degraded myself, giving you Kit Kats
and darning your socks just to make your naffing team!
We've been cellies a long time now!
If you made the team automatic, it would look like favouritism!
You had to prove yourself. I did!
I did more laps, more press-ups...
But I will NOT lace up everyone else's boots!
You're in the team!
Everyone's wetting their knickers just because of a few celebrities!
Don't you want to play, then? What? You're in the team!
Straight up? Centre back. Oh, ta!
You're changeable, ain't ya? Who else is in?
Armstrong, Simkin, Rudge, Oakes...?!
Look, you're in the team, so don't quibble!
Anything you say, Coach!
Who's captain? Why? I wondered whether I was a contender.
A captain has to possess attributes which set him aside from his team.
That's why I chose Light-Fingered Larry...
Urquhart? What attributes has he got?!
Half an ounce of snout which he gave me!
I must say, that's very disappointing, Mr Bainbridge.
You see, the thing is...
Not many of the chaps in tonight. There never are.
It's a desperate place, is this!
The only reason I come here - it's this or go home.
I'm single, myself.
I WAS married, divorced now. Oh, really?
Look at it this way - 'tis better to have loved and lost...
..than to spend your whole ruddy life with her!
Ach!
Same again, Chalky.
That was Mr Bainbridge, their team captain. Bad news.
We've lost David "Diddy" Hamilton.
Oh, dear.
We still have the Goodie, have we?
Well, he didn't say we hadn't.
It's been good for the prison. They talk about little else.
And there's been a noticeable dropping off of violence,
apart from Banyard's nose.
Yes, it was a commendable idea.
Thank you! Thank you!
Ah!
Welcome, gentlemen. Our pitch is round the back. Shall we drive on?
Well, here's the netball team. Where's the flaming football team?
Which one's the Goodie? I don't recognise any of them!
Fletcher.
This is...er...yes, come on...
This is Mr Bainbridge, who organised the Showbiz XI. How do?
Hello. Actually, we're only ten.
Tony Macauley should have been here. He's a songwriter. Do you know him?
No. Oh.
Well...he didn't turn up. That's why we're late.
We'd best get on. We have no floodlights -
not in the right places, anyway.
Mr Barrowclough will see you through.
Could we borrow on of your chaps?
One of your subs, Fletcher?
Yeah, but what about Mr Beal, sir?
He plays a bit. He's as keen as mustard, he is.
Ye-e-s...I'll have a word with him.
Thanks! Thanks a lot.
Forgive me, sir, but who the hell ARE they?
We understood there'd be a sprinkling of celebrities!
The chap with red hair?
Tells the weather on Anglia TV. Ah.
There are scriptwriters for someone quite famous! Oh.
And Mr Bainbridge was in pantomime at the Alhambra in...Swansea!
Oh, I'll tell the lads. They'll be right chuffed.
Who are they, Fletch?
A weatherman, eight small parts and Widow Twanky! Now, get changed.
THEY ALL GROAN AND MUTTER COMPLAINTS
Excuse me. Is there a garage nearby? I've got to top up the bus.
The lads won't want to stop on the way back.
Half a mile down the road, in the village. Esso station. Just...
Good. I'll nip down later.
Right! I'd better get changed.
TANNOY: The all-star celebrity match will commence in five minutes.
Autograph hunting is not permitted.
You all right, Oaksey? Yeah, yeah!
Right, lads, pay attention!
We're all disappointed that they're nobodies.
Aye. I know, I know.
But the fact remains, they did come all this way to give us a game.
So, let's give 'em a game and show 'em!
No rough stuff! We don't need that. What about Mr Beal?
Oh, you can kick HIM to kingdom come! But be subtle.
Oh, never mind.
Go on, off you go! And don't forget what I've taught you!
Whatever happens, don't let them panic you into playing football!
SPECTATORS CHEER
I don't recognise ANY of them!
LOUD CHEERS AND APPLAUSE
CHEERING CONTINUES
Why am I benched when that pillock Oakes is on the park?
You'll get on, son! Don't fret. 'Ere, have a snort of linament!
Let's have a good clean contest! It's not a boxing match!
That's what I'm anxious to prevent.
Call! Heads.
Right, we'll stay as we are.
Urquhart.
Afternoon, Mr Treadaway. Afternoon, Fletcher. How's it going?
It's hard to tell ten seconds into the game.
Yes, good dog. All right. Good dog, good dog.
Which one's the Goodie?
He didn't come but we have a weatherman on the wing.
He says it'll rain.
Oh, well played, Slade!
Er...who is that?
Armstrong, sir. Class player, he is.
Yes, he's out next month. Pity, for our next fixture.
Yeah, he'll be right choked.
More games on the agenda, sir?
I don't see why not, if this one goes without a hitch.
Good for morale. LIGHT DRUMMING
What's that noise?
Nothing. Just your dog peeing against my bucket.
Bad dog! COME ON, Oaksey! Move!
Are you blind? That came off HIM!
Oh, sorry. Did it? I never touched it! You did! Didn't!
It's a message in semaphore!
I'm honest! You saying I'm not? That's why you're here, isn't it?
That's it, look - "Sink the Bismarck"!
HANDEL'S "MESSIAH" ON RADIO
HE COUGHS POLITELY
Yes, Ives? Oh...er...
Just to let you know, Mr Grout, Slade Prison, 1 - Showbiz XI, 0.
Really?
Set piece, free kick on the right, Callaghan takes it.
Rudge volleys, hits Godber's cheek and bang! Straight in! No chance!
You did ask to be kept informed, Mr Grout.
Better get back out there, then.
Have you been bribed, Simkin?
No, I haven't!
Show an example, Fletcher!
I saw that! What?
I'm going to book you! What's your name, Cooper?
Cooper!
Cooper?
Where does it hurt? My ribs... Here? Oh! Just there, Mr Mackay.
Right. Here y'are.
Er...is there somewhere I can take a leak? Try the changing room.
Right. Ta.
You all right? I don't know yet!
Oh, gawd, I've only just sat down!
I hope it's nothing trivial. I might get a game!
What is it, Oaksey?
Cartilage. I've had it before.
Get him off. I'll help you. Come on.
OK, Mac, set 'em alight!
I never touched him. I know, mate. Don't worry.
I'd best fetch the MO. No! You're in pain, ain't ya?
I'll be all right. He knows naff all. I'll have the early bath.
Come on, Fletch. The lads need your strategy.
All right, son.
Our ball! Corner kick! Come on!
Where are they?
Godber?
How many fingers am I holding up, Godber?
You can't fool me, sir! Er...five!
The lad's concussed. Get him off.
Someone go to the Plough and Sail for the MO.
I'll go! Don't be daft!
Right, let's get on! Corner!
It's a goal kick! Any more, Urquhart, and I'll have you for dissent!
Not too tight? No, it's all right.
'Ere, the specs! Oh, yeah.
Get on the pitch, Jacko! You're sub! Let Warren go on!
I want your strength up front!
LENNIE: Corner! Yes, Godber, yes. Get in here.
Sit down. I'll get water to bathe your face.
No, you won't, Fletcher.
Oh, gawd! Look, we've seen nothin', have we, Len?
Seen what?
It's your caper - I don't want no part of this!
They saw you come in. You going to sit there till half time
and pretend you didn't notice him?!
Notice what? Take them with you! What?
You've got no choice, have you? Or I'll be in it and all!
Oaksey, I'm not going anywhere!
You'll do as you're told, son.
Oh, bleedin' hell!
In. In! Come on, Len.
It's our ball, Mr Mackay. A corner!
He don't know nothin'. Got amnesia!
Come on! Get on with it!
Right, shift!
Heh-heh. Yeah, all right.
Right, in! You're joking, Oaksey! I'm warning you! Get IN!
C'mon, Slade! Take no prisoners!
Hold it, driver!
There's a penalty being taken.
Go to your left!
Out you go.
Mr Cox, open the gates!
RADIO: # Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
# Hallelujah! #
Everything all right? Who's the bird? My sister-in-law.
What's she doing here? A couple touring looks more natural.
THIS time of year? Come on! Hang on. You brought a suitcase?!
Don't be so stupid! Come on, Fletcher. Oh, gawd.
I wasn't told about this! Come on!
I wasn't told about this! Shut up! Who are THEY? Don't look at me!
Look, Fletch, a woman! All right, get in there.
HALF-TIME WHISTLE
What's the hurry? I'm dying for a Jimmy Riddle!
Don't look at me, lads - there's 11 in the team!
Only one of us let the ball through.
Where's Fletch? Probably knackered.
It's not like Fletch to miss his orange.
HE MUMBLES
Your chaps were unlucky not to equalise!
Not MY chaps. I'm impartial.
Young Budge played well. Rudge, sir. That's what I said.
How are the walking wounded?
Mr Mackay... Just a moment, Henry.
But... I'm talking to the Governor, Mr Barrowclough!
Yes, but...there's something I think you ought to know.
Cheer up, Fletch! I'm doin' you a favour, son. We're free and clear!
They'll have blocked the roads.
We're going North, to Scotland.
They'll never figure on that, eh? Not on Dumfries.
Dumfries. Queen o' the South, their team.
Scottish League Division B, as was. Dumfries, 0 - Hamilton, 1.
He all right? He banged his head on the post.
At least he's oblivious to this fiasco!
St Johnstone, 2... Leave it out.
What do you mean, fiasco? Sweet as a nut, this!
You may have good reason for doing something this drastic -
but I got under a year to go and the lad even less!
You're doing us no favours.
I haven't got the money for plastic surgery and a ticket to Acapulco.
I do not relish winter in Dumfries!
I'm upset you feel that way. Oh, yeah? But I had to bring you.
Not no further, you don't! Dump us! We're in the middle of nowehere.
You know about Dumfries.
I don't know nothin'. It's still them and us, remember?
On your way, then. Yeah, see you, Oaksey.
I hope NOT!
We're out! Yeah, I know, son.
Come on.
Yes, yes...I'll wait.
Ah! Everything's in hand, sir. They won't get far.
Police have been informed. Checks on all major roads south and east.
Local police are looking for the coach.
I'm detailing some of our men to help.
And I'M ringing the Home Office. Oh.
"Oh," indeed, Mr Mackay! This match was YOUR suggestion!
Mine, sir? Oh, no, sir!
No, no, let us be fair. The idea came from Mr Beal.
Did it?
Sorry, I know you have other things on your mind,
but how will I get my chaps back to London?
Er... Oh, hello?
Would you mind...?
Treadaway, Slade.
All right, Len? I think so.
Good, cos we need clear heads to get out of this mess!
'Ere, stick some of these in your pockets.
What for? Sustenance, son. We might be out all night in this, you know!
He's really dropped us in it!
It weren't our fault. WE didn't go over the wall.
The screws don't know that! They've had a conflab by now -
"Whose idea was the football match?" "Fletcher's, sir."
"Oh, really? Very nice."
They'll put two and two together to make three.
Three? Three years.
We can't let 'em catch us. Can we give ourselves up to the law?
We can't - they wouldn't listen!
Some local bobby won't want to miss the chance of capturing us!
A commendation! Another notch on his truncheon!
What are we going to do? Actually, I've got the perfect solution. What?
We're going to break back in.
Yeah, I know, I know! Come on.
Hey, why don't we nick a chicken?
On a Wednesday afternoon?! Where'd we get sage and onion stuffing?
COW MOOS
DOG BEGINS TO BARK
Oi! Come back here!
POLICE SIREN
PRISONERS SING: # Nymphs and shepherds gone away
# Gone away! Gone away! # QUIET! QUIET!
# Gone, gone, gone, gone away! #
Hey, Fletch? What? How d'you know we're going the right way?
By the sun.
ORGAN MUSIC
SHEEP BLEATS Ow!
Excuse me! Can YOU tell me what's going on?
No-one seems to know. We'll miss our train if we don't leave soon.
Oh, sorry. The police want statements from all of you.
This could all have been worked out in advance.
If we'd brought Michael Parkinson or the Goodies,
you wouldn't have held them for questioning!
Probably not.
But of course, you didn't, did you?
Oh, dear. I told you it would be dodgy!
Come on, don't flag!
Jab! Jab!
It's the big one next week, sir!
Who was that? A couple of escaped convicts. Oh.
Fletch, leave the bell alone! Oh, all right.
Old habits die hard.
Might as well give this back an' all.
You just won't admit it.
We're lost!
It'll be dark soon, we'll have to sleep rough.
There'll be frosty tonight. All right for some -
some of us have long trousers! Ssh! What is it?
I heard something.
BREAKS TWIG LOUDLY
Thank you, Hiawatha!
Hiawatha didn't wear football boots!
Sssh! Get down!
What is it?
Cops.
Copse? Like a wooded glade? Yeah.
A wooded glade crawling with bleedin' cops!
Mackay, Slade Prison. Any developments?
No. They're long gone by now.
Checked for tyre tracks of a getaway vehicle?
We never thought of that!
I didn't mean... If you did your job, they wouldn't BE out!
This is NOT an everyday occurrence!
You expect the odd one to tunnel out
or go over the wall on a rope ladder,
but THREE of them? Driving out in a bus?!
Let's go, lads. What about the coach?
It's all yours. We're finished with it.
HORN HONKS
Mr Collinson, return to the prison.
I will drive the coach with Mr Miller.
Er...are you sure you can drive this thing, sir?
This?!
No bother at all!
Right, come on.
ENGINE STALLS
Clutch!
Straight back as you are.
That's it, come on.
Keep coming, Mr Mackay. Come on!
Bit more.
All right, you're clear there!
Oh, it's you, Mr Mackay! Yes, me, laddie!
If you'd been half-awake earlier, this would never have happened! Sir!
It's cold. If they're in the open, it'll freeze their brass monkeys off.
I hope so, Mr Miller. I HOPE so!
QUIETLY: It's just like the wooden horse!
What wooden horse?
The Greeks and the Trojans. That's how the Greeks got into Troy.
Save the history lesson till we get back into our flowery dell.
How are you going to manage that?
Have I ever let you down? No.
Well, I might now. Come on.
Ssh. Freeze! I'm freezin' already!
What's this? C'mon, give us a hand.
Come on.
Oww!
But it's half-past eight, Chalky! The club should be open!
Under the circumstances, I thought nobody would be here.
Well, in the circumstances, I need a drink more than most evenings!
Mr Barrowclough? Something to keep out the cold. Yes, it's bitter out.
It's bitter IN! Make those two large ones, will you?
You know, I'm surprised at Fletcher and Godber going over.
Surprised and disappointed. You will never learn, will you?
You can't judge these people by OUR standards of decency.
They are the dregs of society!
MOANING Oh, ta.
What was that? Ssh, ssh.
MOANING CONTINUES
It's coming from the store room!
Help...
It's locked! Of course it's locked - that's where I keep the booze.
Give me the keys!
Help!
Oh, thank God, Mr Mackay! Saved at last!
Where are we? Who is it? Don't worry, Len. Our ordeal is over.
HE HICCUPS
You say that Oakes forced you down the delivery hatch?!
At gun point! He had to do something, sir.
Or we'd have blown the whistle on him.
We'd have gone for Mr Mackay - who had the whistle at the time!
It's no laughing matter! The man's been drinking, sir!
I had to, sir. It was medicinal. It was perishing down there!
The audacity of it! Prisoners in a Prison Officers' Club!
A shrewd move on Oaksey's part.
I don't follow.
He knew it was the once place you never find a prison officer!
There'll be a few red faces in the Guv'nor's office this morning!
King, please.
They put it out on BBC last night - "Three prisoners escape from Slade"'
This morning, they said, "Sorry, we only meant one."
Makes 'em look as if they can't count!
Oi, Fletcher!
Oh, hello, Mr Grouty, sir.
There'll be something for you in your Christmas stocking.
I'll look forward to that, sir.
Carry on!
What did he mean? I got some millet for his lovebirds.
Samson and Delilah don't eat millet!
The CAGE birds, you nerk!
BELL RINGS Oh, dear.
I don't know why you kowtow to him!
I know you don't, Mr Banyard.
That's why your nose looks like it does.
'Ere, Fletch. What? All right, you are. Am I?
You use your head. All you got in here. I'm learnin' that. Good.
DJ ON RADIO: OK, today's horoscope for Taurus.
Romantic inclinations may pull you one direction,
but cool common sense will urge you to follow another course.
Everybody's been askin' me today what really happened. Oh, yeah?
You'd be amazed at some of the theories.
YOU'RE all right. It all adds fuel to the Fletcher legend!
What's up with you?
We're here while Oakes is Hardy Kruger! Hardy Kruger?
"The One That Got Away".
A film, starring Hardy Kruger.
Don't worry about it. Before long, he'll be Googie Withers again!
Googie Withers?
"Within These Walls".
Maybe not. Maybe he got abroad. He'll hate it.
They always do. You can't sit in the sun for the rest of your life!
Before long, he'll get homesick for Halifax or wherever he lives.
He'll miss kippers, or custard, or wildcat strikes.
Maybe.
Look, Len, bide your time. I mean, you'll soon be out, free and clear.
And you won't be lookin' over your shoulder all the time,
listenin' for every creak on the stair.
Yeah. You're right. I wasn't thinkin' straight.
The fresh air must have gone to me head. Shtum.
Evening, Mr Mackay.
I won't buy it, Fletcher.
Just as well cos it ain't for sale.
You know to what I am referring.
The Governor may believe your story
but the Governor does not walk these floors.
I was in the village today.
Some peculiar reports - sightings, even.
UFOs you mean, sir? Oh, yes.
Unidentified FLEEING Objects!
A boxer in shorts with his trainer, a sexton's missing bike,
a farmer sees two thieves running from his apple store.
I can't prove you were out, Fletcher, Godber,
but mark my words -
my day will come.
# Made a wrong turn at 17
# Took me down a one-way street
# I should have listened to my head And turned right round
# Instead of just followin' my feet
# I thought I was headin' in the right direction
# But it was downhill all the way
# Ohhh, sooner or later The man's gonna take ya
# Turn on the key and lock you away
# But it's gonna be all right
# It's comin' out good
# It's gonna be all right
# I'm changin' my ways And turnin' the tide
# There's a piece of me that no-one can take
# It's locked up in my head
# And I've got the key And it keeps me free inside
# There's a piece of me that no-one can take
# And it's locked up in my head
# And I'm feeling free inside
# I never gave ya no hard luck story Never gave ya no alibis
# Dip your hands in the hat And you pull out a ticket
# Don't mean you take the prize
# I know I was headin' in the wrong direction
# But a man can change his ways
# Ohhh, sooner or later Time's gonna make ya
# Count up the cost And count up the days
# But it's gonna be all right
# It's comin' out good
# It's gonna be all right
# I'm changin' my ways And turnin' the tide
# There's a piece of me that no-one can take
# And it's locked up in my head. #
DOORS SLAM