Guest House Paradiso

Synopsis: Richie and Eddie are in charge of the worst hotel in the UK, Guest House Paradiso, neighbouring a nuclear power plant. The illegal immigrant chef has fled and all the guests have gone. But when a famous Italian filmstar, Gina Carbonara, who is in hiding from a fiance she doesn't want to marry, arrives at the hotel, things get very interesting! Another family come to the hotel as it is the only one they can afford, and when Richie uses the many tunnels and airways to steal some of their rubber bikinis, then is caught by the family's dad, he tries everything to get the video back. When Eddie finds some radioactive fish and it's served to the customers, a bunch of power plant workers find out and a quaratine is on its way. Even worse, when Gina's estranged fiance arrives, all hell breaks loose! Just in time for Eddie, Richie and Gina to escape to the Carribean and spend all their new found money!
Genre: Comedy, Thriller
Director(s): Adrian Edmondson
Production: Universal Pictures
 
IMDB:
6.1
R
Year:
1999
89 min
Website
1,125 Views


(Snoring)

You bastards...

(Alarm bleeps)

(Grunts and groans)

(Alarm stops)

(Alarm rings)

(Teasmaid whistles)

Aaaarrggghh! Aaaarrrgghhh!

(Scream echoes)

Eddie!

Eddie! Another bloody day.|Time to get up.

(Eddie's voice) 'Righty-dokey, skip.'

(Bones creak)

(Tyres screech)

Ow! (Squeals)

Oh!

Eddie!

Eddie?!

Come along. It's the early bird|that catches worms.

(Eddie) 'Running all the way.'

(Record scratches)

(Whispers) Damn.

(Door opens)

(Woman) Well, really.

Good morning, room four.|This is your personal alarm call.

Yes, I know. I'm just giving|you time to wake up

before your proper alarm call in...|two and a haIf hours.

That's right. Exactly|when you booked it. Good morning!

Oh! Mr Johnson and MS Harding.

The common-law couple.|I trust you slept well?

Rather a rough night, actually.

Oh...well, the perils of adultery.

And you're not too tired to make|your way downstairs for breakfast(!)

I trust you both washed?

Actually, the water was cold.

That's no reason not to wash.|We are British, you know?

We invented cold showers|to stop people masturbating.

Oh! Oh! Perhaps that's why you're|so upset about the lack of hot water!

(Horn honks)

(Hacking cough)

Nearly home.

(Dings bell)

Ah, there you are, Eddie.

Here are some bills. You handle them.|I don't want to get my dabs on them.

Righty-dokey, skip.

Have you cleaned your teeth|this morning?

- Could I have a word?|- Take your hand off me.

I haven't got my hand on you.

I've got security cameras,|so it's on film.

- I've got the evidence.|- I brushed your arm.

- You're a liar, Mr Jones.|- Look, Mr Twat...

It's pronounced "Thwaite".

Well, it's spelled Twat.|T-W-A-T. TWAT!

Keep your voice down, please.|We have normal guests as well.

Now, if you'll allow me|to finish what I was doing

before you so rudely interrupted...

Ahem.

There. Now, what is all|this silly fuss about?

I'm trying to get some breakfast|and there's no waiter.

Shirt and tie,|wandering around with food.

Hard to spot, I know. Have you been|to a restaurant before?

Yes, but he's not there.

Pascal!

Pascal!

See what I mean?

Pascal!

Chef, you seen Pascal?

Pascal!

(Board creaks and gas hisses)

Chef, I said fix this.

- It's a fire hazard.|- You f***ing bastard!

Very good, Chef, carry on.|ls breakfast well under way?

Look, may we order straightaway?!

Yes, yes, yes!|The waiter will be here directly.

Oh!

Ahh, morning, Mrs Foxfur.

Morning, Twat.

Eddie! What are you doing?

I'm just...filing the bills.

Oh. Have you seen Pascal?

Uh, no.

You'lI have to help|serving breakfast.

I'll phone the psychiatric hospital|to see if he's there again.

Righty-dokey, skip. I'm your man.

(TV) '..still searching|for Gina Carbonara,

'the ltalian filmstar who disappeared|before her wedding yesterday,

'much to the dismay|of her intended husband,

'the ltalian playboy and ex-racing|driver Gino Guiseppe...'

'You English f***ers!'

'..who is currently fighting|extradition back to ltaly

'to face drug smuggling charges.

'Ms Carbonara shot to fame|portraying a prostitute

'with a heart of gold in the film|"The Last Butterfly Of Summer".

'The film,|with its controversial sex scenes,

'took $160 million worldwide and|won her an Oscar for Best Actress.'

(Zip)

'Her car was discovered|near Beachy Head...'

(Chef) Why you no pay me?!

(Sobs)

It's three months since you bring me|here and still you don't pay me!

And why you sack Pascal?!

Get back in there or I'll tell|lmmigration about your visa!

Yes - visa!

And I didn't sack Pascal. I was about|to phone the hospital about him.

Remember your condition, darling.|Use your breathing technique,

Wine?

It's a bit early, isn't it?

What about an aperitif, then?|Gin, scotch, poteen?

What? No, thank you. What we'd|really like is some breakfast.

Oh.

If he does show up, give him|some quick electric shock treatment

and send him back!

I eat your bacon!

I eat your trifle!

I drink your sherry!

And what I can't eat...|I put in the waste disposal!

You big, fat bastard make me sad!

(Grinding and smashing)

I can particularly recommend|this one.

- Which one?|- This page with all the wines.

It's a bit early for us.

What are you doing up, then?

Too early for wine, Eddie.|Go and help Chef.

Help Chef? But you know|Chef and I don't get on.

This is an emergency -|I'll do Pascal's job out here,

you do Pascal's job in there, OK?

OK.

Now, what would you like?

(Banging and shouting)

(Banging and crashing stops)

Now, then. What would you like?

Chef's hurt himself.

How badly?

lndescribably badly. He hit his head|on a frying pan 17 times.

(Eddie screams)

- You cook.|- I can't.

- Nor could Chef.|- Right.

- Now, then...|- (Banging)

(Sighs) How can I help you?

Where are your eggs from?

Hen's vaginas.

Ah...

We'd like two|full English breakfasts,

freshly squeezed orange juice,

coffee for one - ground not instant -

tea for one,|lightly toasted wholemeal bread,

and don't overcook the kidneys.

Boiled egg as usual, Mrs Foxfur?

Oh, yes, please.

Thought so.

Excuse me, I'll deal|with important guests first.

Oh, for Christ's sake!

Ahem.

Pheeb! One boiled egg.

Pheeb! Hello?

'Pheeb! Hello?'

Yes, hello. One boiled egg.

'Pheeb! Hello?'

Yes, hello!

'Pheeb! Who is it?'

Pheeb! It's Mr Thwaite.

'Pheeb! He's not here.|Can I take a message?'

Look, it's me! Stop embarrassing me|and just take the order!

(Eddie yelps)

One boiled... Damn!

Pheeb! One boiled... Oh,|forget pheeb. One boiled egg!

Pheeb! Hang on, I'll write it down.

No, no, don't write it down,|just remember it.

'OK. How do you spell "egg?"'

No! Just remember it!

Hang on, I've broken me pencil. I'll|just find another. Oh, sorry. Pheeb!

Eddie! Oh... Pheeb! Eddie!

- Yeah?!|- Look, here's a pencil.

(Squidge and blood-curdling scream)

Aaaarrrgh! Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!

Here's the order.|Copy it out and cook it.

But it'll taste all papery.

Just do it or I'll pop these, OK?

OK.

Aaaaaarrrrgh!

Ahh! Ahh! I thought you said "or"!

Freedom of speech.|What we fought Hitler for.

Now, let's just get on with it,|shall we?

Won't be long now.

Could you possibly take our order?

Oh, Edward and Mrs Simpson.

I'd forgotten about you two.

You must be ravenous?

Can I take your order?

Umm...

Oh, all right. Why not?|lt'll kill some time, won't it?

If you've finally managed|to make up your minds.

(Johnson) We'd like|two full English breakfasts.

- Do you have Lapsang Souchong?|- No.

I just put on my underpants|the wrong way this morning.

- Could I get some tea?|- Of course!

(Twat) What a wise choice.

Right...

And if I may say so,|that is a smashing blouse.

- Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!|- Aah! Aah! Aah!

My God!

Excuse me a moment.

(Squelching)

- (Squelch)|- Ow...

Heh heh!

No! No!

- (Squelch)|- Ah! You've snapped my pencil!

(Straining)

(Screaming, banging and crashing)

(Eddie) No, no! Not the fridge!

No!

Stop!

Eddie!

I'm sorry!

How long for the egg?

Three minutes, please.

Excuse me one moment.

Ahh!

Uhhhh...urrgh!

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Adrian Edmondson

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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