Withnail & I Page #6

Listen, Monty.

This is all very kind of you,

but I really think I ought to be

out there getting work done on the car.

You haven't time.

We're taking late luncheon at 3:00.

- I'm afraid we have to leave by 3:00, Monty.

- Leave?

Oh, didn't he tell you?

We have to get back to sign on.

- Sign on? At the Labor Exchange?

- Yeah.

It's sort of fashionable, actually.

All the actors do it. Even Redgrave.

But surely you could forego

for just this one occasion.

I've come a very long way

to see you both.

Can't, actually. I mean, I'd love to stay,

but he's more adamant to get back than I am.

Then we must choose

our moment...

and have a word with him.

I'm sure together

we could persuade him.

There. Now, garlic,

rosemary and salt.

I can never touch meat

until it's cooked.

As a youth, I used to weep

in butcher shops.

- I can't find the rosemary.

- Ah.

Can't find the rosemary.

I'm sure we could find it

together.

- Perhaps it's in the other bag.

- Perhaps it is.

Shall we look?

Oh, sorry. Sherry's in there.

What do you mean, "sorry"? What's

going on? What's he doing here?

We can't stay.

He won't leave me alone.

All right. We'll get the lunch done,

and then we'll leave.

I'm afraid

we must drink from these.

I trust their shapes

will not offend your palates.

- Chin-chin.

- To a delightful weekend in the country.

I do think you could have shaved.

What on earth will people

think of me turning up with you two?

You look like a pair

of farm hands.

Tsk!

This is most embarrassing.

Get away from the car.

Buy the Wellingtons.

I'm going to buy some razors

and shaving soap.

I'll see you over there

in half an hour.

- Pair of blues.

- One each.

- I think a drink, don't you?

- What about the Wellingtons?

Oh, bollocks

to the Wellingtons.

We'll tell them they had a farmer's

conference and had a run on them.

Okay. Yeah. Promise.

Bye.

No, hasn't heard a thing.

Apparently, they're still seeing people.

You don't want to go to Manchester

anyway. Play a bloody soldier?

Don't I?

I damned well do.

- It's a bloody good little theater.

- It's not much of a part, is it?

Well, it's better than nothing.

- They'll make you cut your hair.

- So what? You'd lose a leg.

- Time gents, please.

- All right. We're gonna have to work quickly.

A pair of quadruple whiskies

and another pair of pints, please.

Where is he?

I'm utterly assholed.

We're early.

We want to get in there,

don't we?

Eat some cake,

soak up the booze.

- All right here?

- What do you want?

- Cake. All right here?

- Uh, no. We're closing in a minute.

We're leaving in a minute.

- We want cake and tea.

- Didn't you hear?

She said she'd closed.

What do you want in here?

Cake.

What's it got to do with you?

I happen to be the proprietor.

Now, would you leave?

Ah, I'm glad

you're the proprietor.

I was gonna have to have

a word with you anyway.

We're working on a film up here.

Location, see.

We might want to do

a film in here.

- You're drunk.

- Just bring out the cakes. Cake and fine wine.

- If you don't leave, we'll call the police.

- Balls!

We want the finest wines

available to humanity.

And we want them here,

and we want them now.

Miss Blenehassitt, telephone the police.

It's all right,

Miss Blenehassitt.

I'm warning you,

if you do, you're fired.

We're multimillionaires.

We shall buy this place

and fire you immediately.

Yes, we'll buy this place, and we'll

install a f***ing jukebox in here...

and liven

all of you stiffs up a bit.

The police, Miss Blenehassitt.

Just say there are a couple of drunks in the

Penrith Tea Rooms, and we want them removed.

We are not drunks.

We are multimillionaires.

Hurry up, Mabs.

We'll keep them here till they arrive.

You won't keep us anywhere.

We'll buy this place

and have it knocked down.

- Right, right, right.

- Police, please.

Right. We're going.

Our car has arrived.

We'll be back.

We're coming back in here.

- Where is he?

- Sulking up the hill.

He says he won't come in

for lunch without an apology.

Suits me.

He can eat his f***ing radish.

It's all your fault.

- You lead him astray.

- I beg your pardon, Monty.

Don't tell me you're not aware of it.

I know what you're up to, and so do you.

- Sherry?

- Sherry? Oh, dear, no, no, no.

I'd be sucked into his trap.

One of us has got to stay on guard.

He's so mauve.

We don't know what he's planning.

I'm preparing myself

to forgive you.

I think

you've been punished enough.

I think we'd better release you

from the lgumes...

and transfer your talents

to the meat.

You shouldn't treat each other

so badly.

This boy's been out there

frozen to the marrow,

and you just sit in here

drinking.

Come along. He's going to revitalize himself,

and you're going to finish the vegetables.

- I don't know how to do them.

- Well, of course you don't.

You are incapable of indulging

in anything but pleasure.

Am I not right?

You don't deserve such loyalty.

Now, come along. I'm going

to teach you how to peel a potato.

Isn't it stimulating, getting back

to a basic sort of life for a while?

- Yes.

- Surrounded by trees and nature,

one feels a glorious stirring

of the senses...

a rejection

of poisonous inhibition...

and a fecund motion of the soul.

Except, of course, the problems

tend to take the edge off the pleasure.

I mean, with no proper facilities.

All the glorious trials

of youth, dear boy.

When I was a lad, I'd rocket off on my tandem

with Wrigglesworth, and we'd just ride and ride.

And at night we'd find

some barn and fall asleep,

with the perfumes of nature

sighing on our skin.

Would it be in bad form

to plagiarize a toast?

It depends entirely

on the quality of the wine.

In this instance,

it most certainly would not.

In that case, to a delightful

weekend in the country.

Oh, splendid!

We expected a volley of argument

concerning Mr. Redgrave.

- We're forgetting aboutJake...

- Not another word.

Not another word.

Jake can wait too.

Jake isn't a friend, Monty.

I'd hoped to avoid telling you this,

but there's a psychotic

on the prowl outside this house.

Ask him if I exaggerate.

He's threatened us, and he's dangerous.

Is this true?

Well, there's this local type

hanging about.

A poacher. We got into a tiff,

and he threatened me with a dead fish.

Yes, it was rather amusing, actually.

When you came in,

we thought it was him.

And we thought that you

cleaning your boots...

was him sharpening his knife.

Oh, how delicious.

Mmm, more meat?

No, thank you.

I'll go out for a walk.

Oh, wait for us to finish,

dear boy. We'll all go.

Listen, I know what you're thinking,

but I had no alternative.

The old bugger's come a long way, and

I didn't want to put the wind up him.

Your sensitivity overwhelms me.

If you think you're gonna have

a weekend's indulgence at his expense,

which means him having

a weekend's indulgence at my expense,

- you've got another thing coming.

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