Porridge Page #3

Ain't that the Governor's job?

Only officially.

Next time, bow, curtsey, or lick

his boots if that's what he wants.

Thanks.

Are you ready to do the sloosh

- The Listermint Sloosh!

JINGLE PLAYS:

"Are you slooshing? Do you like it?"

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.

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. If you don't

hop it, 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.

Half way through a 12-stretch for

armed robbery, innit? That's right.

A big tickle, that last job of yours.

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!

Obviously there'll be appropriate

recompense to your good self. Yeah...

I like the word recompense.

I was thinking in the region...

No, let me tell you MY thinking.

Five thousand -

three before, two after.

It's only fair the lion's share's

should come upfront.

Once people take off to the sun,

they can get careless about

tidying up their affairs.

Where do you want it put? Hastings &

Thanet Building Society, Bexhill Branch.

How long will you need? You'll

have to give me up to three months.

Supposing you don't spring me?

Then you get your money back, Oaksey.

Mind you, I keep the interest. Nine

and a quarter per cent, tax paid.

Next.

Where have they all gone?

They all 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 Wealdstone and Harrow... #

Watch out for him. He's the mad butcher! What

did he do? Fiddled the VAT on his sausages!

Where are you going with that? Pig swill.

What? Swill for the pigs. Pig swill.

It's Fletcher, isn't it?

Yes, sir!

Settling in all right, are you?

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.

ours or theirs?

Neither. Mine.

It lacks something, Lotterby.

Elizabeth David recommends coriander

bay leaves and a dash of pepper.

I said a DASH, Lotterby!

Aaagh! I've cut the top

of me finger off! Aaoww!

Show me!

No! It's really bad!

Stop making such a fuss!

What's going on?

Oh, shame.

This man has had an accident, sir.

Let's see, Cooper. What happened?

Carry on, the rest of you!

I- I thought I'd cut me finger off...

but it seems it's still there... sir.

Is that your bicycle, Mr Beal? Yes, I

took the precaution of bringing it indoors.

Into this thieves' kitchen?!

Mr Beal, 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, like.

Ladle.

He thinks he's a curry expert on account of where

he was stationed in the army. India? Bradford.

Very fair, Godber, very fair.

Perhaps... Perhaps just

a dash more curry powder?

Oh, right, sir. Erm...

Lotterby, curry powder.

SMASHING CROCKERY

Try a hankie, sir.

Blow! I can't breathe! The doctor...

The MO...? GET THE DOCTOR!

Hello, Len...

FLETCHER RINGS BICYCLE BELL

So you got that! 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?

He lost something in the kitchen, that's why. What,

pride? No. Shift over. Why? It's 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 anyone's about.

OK. Shut your eyes.

Open up.

Teeth! Yeah, Jaws Three! Look...

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!

They're hot. He'll turn the nick over looking for them!

He'll negotiate first. Bit risky.

'Nothing dentured, nothing gained!'

Fletcher!

Ives, knock before you come in here!

Who is it? Ives!

Clear off! Fletcher!

Grouty wants to see you.

How well do you think

you could look after yourself on this island?

Yes, I'm a fairly. practical

person. I do my share round the house.

How's the diet going, all right?

This is the recording you've chosen.

Desert Island Discs.

An ambition of mine, to be on that programme.

Nice threads, Grouty. Yeah, feel that.

Hundred per cent cashmere. Lovely.

He's doing me one in barathea for

the warm weather. IF it comes. Yeah.

On your way, Tenk.

SWITCHES RADIO 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.

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...

of a football match.

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, I need 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 it up

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 teeth!

And the outlook for

the weekend is little change.

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!

All these and more. See the

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