The Inbetweeners

So, you see the thing is, Dad,

I could reapply next year,

but if I defer and try again for Oxford,

I'll probably lose my place at Bristol...

Mm...

which is a good university

but not my dream.

Do you think

it matters in the long term,

or is the subject and standard of degree

more important?

So, I got married.

- What?!

- To Suzy, we got married.

You mean remarried.

This time it's for keeps, though.

- When did this happen?

- A few weeks ago.

I was going to invite you,

but I know how you are around people.

How am I?!

Awkward. Weird.

I don't live in a cave.

I live in suburban London.

I spend my entire life around people.

Much as I'd like to,

it's almost impossible to avoid them.

See, this is what I mean.

Well... Was it a big wedding?

No. Couple of hundred close friends

and family.

- And it was perfect.

- Mm.

I can't believe you didn't invite me

to your wedding.

So, what are you up to this summer?

Oh, you're changing the subject?

- Mm-hm.

- Fine.

I dunno.

I guess I'll be going on holiday.

Oh, this should be good.

What have you got planned?

Trans-Siberian Express?

Fossil-hunting in Dorset?

Or maybe something even weirder.

No, actually. Something normal. I'm going

somewhere normal, with my normal friends,

to a place full of normal people.

And you, of course.

# Wahhhhh

# Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love

# I really need it

# Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love

# Just set me free, yeah... #

In case you were wondering,

that was me with my father.

And this is where I live -

not with him, but with my mother.

It's a long story. Well, not that long.

He shagged the work experience girl

and then left us.

So, just clichd, really.

Plus, it only happened two years ago,

so I don't even get the luxury

of blaming my various personality defects

on their divorce.

Anyway, that's how I ended up here -

the very definition of suburbia.

Safe, comforting, stifling, boring -

and I couldn't wait to f***ing leave.

Maybe that's unfair, as they do say

that you never know what goes on

behind the net curtains of suburbia.

Although, in my friend Jay Cartwright's

case, you can have a pretty good guess.

Are you ready to have some fun, big boy?

Mmm.

I'm feeling sexy!

Take off mask, baby, let me see you.

Nah.

Do you promise this'll be

properly filthy, yeah?

Oh, yes, like bomb explode from in penis.

Sexy like... mmm...

finger up bumhole.

Christ, you make me so erect.

Oh, yes, you also make me erect.

Now, put in card details.

Oh, I'm so horny.

Don't forget security number and bank.

Mm! Come on, hurry up.

All right, Jay's mum! Where's Jay?

Oh, hello, Neil.

He's at home, updating his CV.

Ooh, excuse me.

Hello?

Ohh...

It's a bit over, is that OK?

Not really.

- Excuse me! My prawns?

- Sorry, mate, I finish at six.

Cheers for that.

- You don't have to thank me every time.

- Oh, right. Cool.

You're so fit.

Simon, we need to talk.

Oh, not talking!

- Look, it's been great so far...

- It's been amazing.

Literally the best year of my life.

My spots clearing up,

not moving to Wales,

and now you.

And I'm definitely getting better

at kissing, aren't I?

I think we should break up.

What?

We're both going away to uni soon,

and it'll be too hard to keep it going

long-distance.

- It won't be fair on either of us.

- I don't mind.

You will mind, though. You will.

I bloody won't!

Plus, I'm going on holiday soon,

so there's that.

Why? What are you planning to do

on holiday?

Maybe you should just go home.

I just need some space to think

at the moment.

OK, fine. So, I'll see you later, yeah?

Or whenever?

Mum, I'm back! When's tea?

- In a minute.

- It had better be delicious!

Ohhh...

- Ooh!

- Oh, oh!

Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me.

Oh, yes, I like you. Oh, I like you.

Get out! I'm just looking at holidays!

It's just holidays!

Jay, can you come downstairs, please?

Your grandfather's died.

Ooh, you've got a lady there,

you bad boy!

Has she got nice titties? Suck on

the lady's titties. Suck them, go on!

It was our last ever day of school,

something my new stepmum had

experienced only four years ago herself.

So the head of Sixth was going to say

a few inspirational words.

And if ever there was a man for the job,

it wasn't lunatic giant Mr Gilbert.

I will forget each and every one of you

almost immediately.

So, if you do find yourself

at a loose end next year,

and think it might be nice to pop in

and see how we're getting on,

don't. This isn't the Dead Poets Society

and I'm not that bloke on BBC Two

who keeps getting kids to sing in choirs.

I especially don't want to hear about

how well you're settling down at uni

or how much growing up you've done

in the past 12 months.

At best, I am ambivalent

towards most of you,

but some of you, I actively dislike,

for no other reason

than your poor personal hygiene

or your irritating personalities.

I hope I've made myself clear

on this point.

And in case any of you think

I'm joking... I'm not.

I assure you

that once my legal obligation...

to look after your best interests

is removed,

I can be one truly nasty f***er.

Good luck with the rest of your lives

and... try not to kill anyone.

It reflects very badly on all of us here.

Slightly more upbeat

than I was expecting.

They say your school days

are the best days of your life.

But the only way

that would be true for me...

would be if I went straight from school

to prison and stayed there until I died.

How many times is that

she's caught you now?

Four. But this was the worst.

Mask, snorkel, ham.

OK, one last one for luck.

Ooooh!

Good. Old-school wedgie.

To be admired, in a way.

Squashing the balls now.

Ooh! That does not tickle!

Argh!

Mark! What the f***

do you think you're doing? Put him down.

All right, calm down.

Just saying goodbye to Bender Squad.

- Have a nice life, d*ckheads.

- Oh, grow up! God!

- Are you OK, Will?

- Fine! Slightly chafed arse crack,

- but, no, basically fine, thanks.

- Hi, Simon.

OK, well, bye, then.

F***ing b*tch.

Is she?

No.

Oh, God... I just really miss her.

It's all right, mate. I understand.

Anyone would miss those tits.

- It's not that, Neil.

- Is it her lovely snatch?

- No.

- I know it feels rough now, Si,

but you just need to give it some time.

I'm just worried I'll never get over her.

- I can help you with that!

- Can you?

Yeah! From now on, every time

you mention the Moanatronic 5000,

- you get a slap in the balls.

- Do you mean Carli?

Ow! For f***'s sake, Jay!

- You were warned.

- How's that helping?!

Stopped you from crying like a baby,

for one.

So my life is still ruined,

but now my balls ache too. Thanks, Jay

No, your life is just about to begin,

mate!

Now you've been dumped, we can all go

on a mental holiday together.

Two weeks of sun, sea, sex, sand, booze,

sex, minge, fanny and tits.

And booze.

And sex!

He's put it horrifically,

but he's probably right.

A holiday would definitely

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