Carry on at Your Convenience Page #2

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of your personal freedom.

I haven't noticed anyone prodding at my vitals.

Good for you, Chloe.

Ready for you any time, Chloe.

Yes. All right, then.

Yes. All right, then. Quiet, please.

Thank you, Mrs Moore.

But I seem to remember that you got very upset

when they banned you women from

wearing trousers. What do you say to that?

Down with 'em!

Cheeky, Bernie.

I didn't mean down with the trousers.

Anyway, brothers, I am now calling for

an immediate stoppage of work,

pending reinstatement of the tea rounds.

Now, then, all those in favour,

raise your right hands.

Count 'em, Bernie.

Are you in favour?

Of course I am, you fool!

Oh, well, er...

Well, that makes two.

Well, that's that.

Mind if we get back to work, then?

Would you wait just one more minute, please?

I would like to make one last appeal

to your reason and common sense.

I'll call for one more vote. And, in doing so,

I would like you all to bear in mind

the fact that the Rovers

are playing at home this afternoon

and the kickoff's at three o'clock.

Right? All those in favour?

Count 'em, Bernie.

There we are.

Trouble.

Well, well, well. Never saw so many people

wanting to leave the room at the same time.

I have to inform you, Mr Plummer.

It has just been decided by a majority vote

that unless the tea rounds are brought back,

there will be an immediate walkout.

Oh, yes. We're playing at home this afternoon,

aren't we?

- You're not going to let them get away with this?

- Leave it to me, Mr Lewis.

Now, look, Spanner.

Let's be sensible about this.

You know very well that our extra tea rounds

were laid on by the management as a privilege.

So doing away with them

hardly breaks any union rules.

Ah. That's just where you're wrong,

and I quote...

Section M, page 154, paragraph 79b,

treatment of the workers.

"Action may be taken if at any time the

management fails to provide adequate facilities

for catering to the workers' natural needs. "

Natural needs?

Drinking is a natural need, is it not?

So's sex, but that doesn't mean

they have to lay on crumpet.

Very funny, Mr Plummer. Very funny.

We want to know if you are prepared

to reinstate the tea rounds.

You know very well I can't do that,

but, as works foreman,

I'll see that your complaint is passed on

to the management. All right?

No, I'm afraid not.

We need a more positive guarantee.

- Why don't we talk about it?

- No! I'm damned if we will.

- Mr Lewis, please!

- No. Now, listen to me, all of you.

Oh, blimey.

You may not understand what it means,

but since I've been working in this factory,

I have made a time and motion study.

I know what it means, Mr Lewis. And if you've

got the time, I've certainly got the motion.

And don't think I hadn't noticed it, Mrs Moore.

Especially in your main production department.

Oh, you cheeky devil!

Anyhow,

I'd like to try and show you how it works.

She knows how it works. I promise you.

Mr Lewis, we are evading the issue.

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!

All right. That's enough fun.

Now, let's get down to business.

Sounds just like my old man!

All right, all right.

In this factory, 166 extra mugs of tea

are served in the average week.

Now, on the basis that one worker has to make

a trip to the toilet for every pint consumed,

this means that he makes 16 trips in one day.

Poor devil. He must have a weakness.

No, not quite, Mr Hulke.

It means that, allowing for an average time

of four and a half minutes

for each trip to the toilet,

72 minutes are lost in each day.

Which equals 15 hours lost

going to the toilet in one week.

You see?

- So what is the answer?

- Tie a knot in it.

Quite. But a less painful solution, in my opinion,

was simply to cut out the extra tea rounds.

Doesn't that make sense?

Just one moment, please, Mr Lewis.

Am I to understand, then,

that the management want the workers

to stop going to the sh... loo, when they want to?

I didn't say that exactly.

You just want to cut down on the number of trips

they want to make?

Well, yes. That's it. Exactly.

I thought so.

It is a clear case of restrictive practice.

Right into it.

Everybody out!

Fine mess I made of that.

It would have been simpler

to have done what they wanted.

I'm like you. I don't give in easily.

- You'll have to, if you want them back tomorrow.

- Yes, I know.

- Well, it gives us a free afternoon, anyway.

- Yes... Us?

We'll have a run out into the country

and something to eat at a little pub I know.

- Sorry, I'm busy.

- I'll pick you up at the Odeon at half past two.

Lewis, it's no use.

And try not to be late. There's no waiting there.

Ah, Spanner.

Thanks a lot. I thought

we were going to have to work this afternoon.

- Eh?

- Dead worried, I was.

But what about your loss of production?

Who cares? Think of the wages we're saving.

What's up with him, then? He's gone potty.

On the contrary.

I think he's learning some sense at last.

Saving on the wages... Saving on the wages...

What's he on about?

Anyway, are you all right for this afternoon?

Oh, er... no, I don't think so. Thanks, Vic.

I promised to help Mum with a few things.

- What, instead of the football?

- Yeah. Funny girl, aren't I?

Oh, hey. She's gone potty an' all.

Saving on the wages...

Excuse the rush, but I've got a lot to do. Bye.

Lot to do...

I wish I had a lot to do.

Don't we all? Thanks for the lift, Sid.

- All right. See you down the pub tonight?

- I doubt it. The lord and master is home.

- Then you'll have plenty to do.

- You must be joking!

Fred is strictly a Saturday-nighter.

What a shocking waste.

Oh, get you. You never stop, I suppose.

Only to fill my pipe.

That'll do, saucy.

Oh, hello, Fred.

Sid just gave me a lift home.

- Uh-oh.

- I hope that's all he gave you.

- Fred.

- I thought you were having a canteen lunch.

That little twerp Spanner

organised another walkout.

Another strike? How can I sell our products

if you don't make 'em?

What are you so surprised about?

It's only the 13th this year.

Cor. What's it all about this time?

I suppose you could call it

the take in and put out figures.

Take in and put out figures?

Technically known as the T and P figures.

Sid!

I'm glad you both find it so very funny.

- Yeah.

- There's always trouble at the works.

We seem to be having it once a week,

as regular as clockwork.

- I thought that's how you liked it.

- Come on, Fred. I'll get you something to eat.

I could do with a bit.

Spoken like a true man.

Come on.

That's all I need.

A face full of sodding knickers.

Eugh.

Nice Joey. Pretty Joey.

Pretty little boy, then.

Nice little boy, then.

Who's a nice little boy?

Say, hello, Mummy.

Hello, Mummy. Hello, Mummy. Go on. Say it.

Hello. Mummy.

Look what Mummy's got for him.

Anice little toy.

Anice little toy for a clever little boy.

Ta, Mummy. Ta, Mummy.

- Ta, Mummy.

- Gorblimey.

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