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: This fellow... he picks up this tiny bird in his hands and carries its quivering little body across this busy junction, and feeds it to his cat! Life's like that; a complex texture of conflicting moralities.
: How're you keeping? Clegg
: Me bowel's playing up a bit. God moves in mysterious ways.
: [pointing at Campo
] He's still calling for me in broad daylight. Clegg
: Tell the neighbours he doesn't belong to you; you're just looking after him for somebody. Compo
: They've taken me telly again. Clegg
: Only because you haven't paid; it's nothing personal.
: No need to be prejudiced against him, Cyril, just because he looks like summat from Rent-a-Drain. Compo
: That's true. I've got my feelings, you know. Blamire
: Oh, I do know. I've seen you scratching 'em Clegg
: You've got to remember, Campo, that Cyril's a Tory, and Tories can't stand it if you're filthy and obscene. That's what the Labour Party's for.
: It used to be a tradition round here if you were hungry you could knock on any door and without a moment's hesitation they'd slam it, straight in your face. Compo
: Well, what's that got to do with owt? Clegg
: Huh, just shows they had character. Now we're into an age of compassion. The world's full of folk hating folk for hating folk.
: Well, see ya. Clegg
: Tomorrow. Blamire
: At the library. Compo
: Tada. Blamire
: Cheerio. Clegg
[Compo and Blamire leave
: [looking at the flowers from his wife's grave
] I don't know, lass; it's a rum old world. Nonetheless, I, uh, I think I'll go and get a bit of sausage for me tea.
: Well, what was wrong with chapel, eh? Clegg
: I felt somehow that it should have more humour. And perhaps a bigger organ. No, I'm not convinced. I mean for a start, if God's omnipotent, with all that choice available what could he possibly want with my old woman? No, it implied blind chance working there, not selection. Oh, I know I chose her but think on: she was a lot younger then and it were the height of the Depression. Nobody expected owt fancy. Compo
: Well, even if you don't believe in God, He'd take her just for spite. They're all alike, the bosses. Blamire
: What do you know, you tatty heathen? Compo
: I'm entitled to my opinion. Blamire
: Not exactly an expert opinion, is it? Considering how much experience you've had of either church or full employment.
: It's sad to see the place in this condition. Compo Simmonite
: What are you talking about? Old railway sheds were always in this condition. Tat! Foggy Dewhurst
: Listen who's talking about being tat. Compo Simmonite
: They were built in this condition. Norman Clegg
: He could be right, Foggy. Foggy Dewhurst
: Who builds places in this condition? Norman Clegg
: Your local authorities mostly. It's called progress. It used to take years to build a slum, and nowadays they're building them practically ready-to-wear.
] Compo Simmonite
: I'm glad that's all over. Norman Clegg
: Me, too. Foggy Dewhurst
: It'll be a long time before I go near another steam engine.
[Foggy bursts into the house, repeatedly blowing a whistle and furiously waving a green flag
] Compo Simmonite
: Look at that dozy pillock. What's he supposed to be? Norman Clegg
: Looks like a taxi driver. Foggy Dewhurst
: A taxi driver? What, with a whistle and a flag? Norman Clegg
: A lion tamer. Compo Simmonite
: For deaf lions. Compo Simmonite
: A lollipop man. That's what he is. Foggy Dewhurst
] Get on your feet. Come on, it's train time. Wake up, that man. We'll just be in time for the Grand Opening.
: I'd no idea it was happening, till I ran into Arnold Watts. Norman Clegg
: You ran into Arnold Watts? I told you he was a taxi driver. Foggy Dewhurst
: No, I ran into him on foot. Norman Clegg
: You can't win with taxi drivers. If they miss you with a vehicle, they get out and *trample* you to death!
: [sings gleefully
] We're gonna see a puffer train! Foggy Dewhurst
] Yes you are. And you'll be grateful. You're about to see a *steam engine*. A steam engine, *lovingly* restored. The official re-opening of the line, and we can be part of it. We can be among the passengers on this first *historic* journey. Norman Clegg
: As long as we don't have to walk.
[Foggy, Compo and Clegg are waiting to catch a glimpse of the steam engine. Foggy is proud; Compo and Clegg are distinctly underwhelmed
] Foggy Dewhurst
: Can't you work up a bit of enthusiasm? Can't you feel your spine tingling with pride? Compo Simmonite
: I can feel the ache in me spine from all that walking. Norman Clegg
: Mine's in my knee. I can feel my knee stiff with pride.
: [to Clegg
] Here, time you and I were home. Compo
: No, no! One, one for t' road.
[Compo opens a can
: Here's wishing me every success with my daily treble and Mrs Batty.
: In that order? Compo
: Not... not necessarily.
[Compo passes the can to Clegg
: Here's to me brother-in-law who shows deep tact and understanding by keeping out of me way.
: [Clegg passes the can to Blamire
: Aah. Well, here's to the lady that managed the NAAFI in Oswestry during the war. The one with the glasses.
: Have thee got any dripping, Sid? Blamire
: That went out with the depression. Clegg
: Nay, Sid went out with the depression, then he goes and marries it. Sid
: Tha's not far wrong, either.
: There was a time when I had the scientific curiosity, during old Fosdyke's lessons. I was very impressed by the behaviour of iron filings. All them invisible patterns in the air; it makes you think: maybe the Almighty's got a plan after all. Or is he just passing the time embroidering his doily?
: Oh, he's late again. I knew it. He's not only unsavoury, he's unpunctual as well. Clegg
: It's a bit early for Compo. He's not had the practice of getting off to work like we used to have.
: Boy, I'm looking forward to it. A weekend by the sea: salt air in your lungs, sun on the water. Clegg
: Sand in your sandwiches. Foggy
: I refuse to be discouraged by that cynical attitude. You're looking forward to it just as much as I am. When I called for you this morning, you were whistling. Clegg
: Well, I had just opened my electricity bill. Foggy
: No, you were happy. Clegg
: Sh, not so loud! Nobody admits to being happy these days; they'll think I'm weird. Foggy
: Exercise. Clegg
: And the world is full of social reformers, and nothing irritates your social reformer more than finding some damn fool who's happy! Foggy
: Oh, exercise is all you need. I don't keep this figure by accident, you know.
: The older I get the more I seem to like dozy people. Hmph. Mind you, you get a lot of practice round here. Foggy
: Oh, give me a razor-sharp intellect any time. Clegg
: Oh, I will, the minute I find one.
: Yes, well, I thought that was very palatable. Clegg
: Oh well, we're still in Yorkshire, aren't we. It's not as if we've gone abroad like that damn fool Anderson from Murtly Street. Compo
: Where did he go, then? Clegg
: [about Compo's aftershave
] 'Biceps'. Which obviously means half of forceps, that is: a pair of tweezers with only one prong. Now, *that* could take a bit of getting used to.
: And this is going to take a bit of getting used to, too, which of course explains why it's, it's called Biceps.
] Compo Simmonite
: I wonder if my life would've been different if I'd been taller. Foggy Dewhurst
: Of course it would. Instead of being short and scruffy, you'd have been tall and scruffy. Norman Clegg
: With longer holes in your trousers.
[the trio sit on a hillside above a stream, and hear a man's voice in the distance
] Fifi's Walker
: Fifi? Fifi! Norman Clegg
: Which one of you two answers to the name of "Fifi"?
[Lamenting about the dog:
] Fifi's Walker
: All I ever see it do is eat flamin' toffees, lick the wife, and pee all over me geraniums Foggy Dewhurst
: That's better than licking the geraniums and peeing all over...
[Clegg cuts him off
] Norman Clegg
[Wally encourages Compo to pursue Nora
] Wally Batty
: I don't know why you don't make yourself more attractive. Compo Simmonite
: Hey, up! I *am* more attractive. Wally Batty
: Before she'd marry me, I had to make meself more attractive. And like a fool, I did. Norman Clegg
: You can't go tampering with nature, Wally. Wally Batty
: Just a bit of solid Brilliantine. Norman Clegg
: A well-known aphrodisiac. You must have been irresistible. Wally Batty
: I was!
: I was merely pointing out the similarity between the human and the equine foot. Compo
: What's an equine foot? Clegg
: Twelve inches and a bit, and the bit goes between the teeth for steering purposes.
[he laughs but the others don't
: That's all right, Clegg. You just talk among yourself.
: I wouldn't have minded being a famous criminal. You know, keeping a greyhound and a bird in a flat, with big knockers. Clegg
: They mostly have doorbells.
: And where were you when the chips were down? Clegg
: Ah, it's funny you should say that. Potato prices keep falling, but how often do you find that the chips are down?
: Are you sure your dubious friend Amos really has gone home? Compo
: He's gone home. Foggy
: Look, what was he doing in the bank? Compo
: Well, he went in to see if they remembered him; he wanted to cash a cheque. But they wouldn't. Foggy
: Oh, so they did remember him. Compo
: Well, it don't matter anyroad; Cleggie cashed it for him. Foggy
: You cashed a cheque for him? You didn't! Clegg
: You want to have a bit of confidence in people, Foggy.
[Compo and Foggy laugh heartily
: Oh, look. It's a balloon with a Howard on a string. Howard
: You ignore me if I just knock on the door. Clegg
: Ah, that's probably because I'm trying to ignore you, Howard. Don't go away. Howard
: [to himself
] It gets lonely out here. It shrinks the spirit. A person feels unwanted.
: How long have you been interested in balloons? Clegg
: Oh, it's just a passing fancy. Pearl
: Well, I hope it passes a bit quicker than some of Howard's. Clegg
: Basically, it's just to keep me occupied until my skateboard comes.
: I think I liked him better when he was miserable.
: I think I'd rather wait out here. Foggy Dewhurst
: Well, what's the matter with you? Norman Clegg
: He's such a red hot salesman is Dougie, he's bound to sell me something. Foggy Dewhurst
: Ah, rubbish. Norman Clegg
: It usually is.
] Foggy Dewhurst
: Dig it up; dig it up; it might be Roman. Compo Simmonite
: Don't. Watch these trousers.
] Compo Simmonite
: Yeah, it's an old beer can. Norman Clegg
: Ingenious beggars, them Romans. Compo Simmonite
: It's Tetley's. Norman Clegg
: Gaius Julius Tetley. I like it. Compo Simmonite
: Me too. Let's go and have one.
] Foggy Dewhurst
: I understand the co-op has some big reductions in winceyette pajamas. Norman Clegg
: I could do with some big reductions in mine.
[Ivy wants Foggy to leave, and is trying to make him drink his tea and go
: Well, don't take all day. Norman Clegg
: Who trained your Ivy to handle customers, Sidney? Did you send her to Cosa Nostra or was it something she picked up from the Waffen-SS? Sid
: I keep telling her, "Be nice to people. Start with me!"
[Compo is exhausted after the trio has pushed a stranger's stalled automobile to the top of a hill
] Compo Simmonite
] Oh, I hope tonight's not the night that Nora Batty finally says yes. Norman Clegg
: I'd sooner push motorcars. I really would.
[Wally and Nora Batty meet the trio on a country road. Wally drives a motorbike, and Nora rides in the sidecar
] Norman Clegg
: [to Foggy
] When you see her sitting in her chariot, you realize she's a dead ringer for Queen Boadicea.
: It's an open question, life. Anything's possible. I mean, what do we really know about anything? Clegg
: Maybe we're already dead. Compo
: Then wha'? Clegg
: Maybe we had to die to get here, from some other place. Compo
: Ah, give us a fag afore I get headache. Blamire
: So this is Heaven then. Or the other place. Clegg
: Well, it can't be the other place. Blamire
: Why not? Clegg
: In Yorkshire? Be further south, wouldn't it?
: We've all had that uncomfortable feeling that the Almighty's not all that competent.
: It'll not hurt ya. Compo
: I just don't want to go into a church, that's all. Blamire
: It's just an experiment. I'm going to prove to him that he does believe whether he believes it or not. Compo
: I had enough experiments when they had me in hospital. Clegg
: What were you in for? Compo
: Two weeks. Clegg
: Ooh, very nasty; two weeks!
: I wonder why they call it plaster of Paris. When I broke my arm, they got mine from a company in 'Uddersfield. Clegg
: I like it. Foggy
: What? Clegg
: Plaster of Huddersfield. Foggy
: Don't encourage him. Just let him lie there quietly making all the creepy-crawlies go "yeuch".
: The trouble with these revolutions in the name of freedom is how soon they make it compulsory for everybody.
: I wonder what they'll put on my gravestone. Foggy
: Something very heavy, I hope. Clegg
: What would you like on it? Compo
: Somebody else's name.
: [reading the newspaper
] C. Cooper. Truly
: A. Jackson. Clegg
: What about A. Jackson? Truly
: Nothing. You led with C. Cooper, so I thought I'd play my A. Jackson. Clegg
: Well I was reading the show report. It says here: "First prize, vegetable section, C. Cooper." Truly
: I can't tell you how glad I am to learn that. I've been tossing and turning all night wondering who won first prize in the vegetable section. Clegg
: I wonder if C is for Cyril. Truly
: Cyril Cooper? Our Cyril Cooper? Old Coop? Clegg
: Mmm. Well, it
: it's possible.
: Too much man for one woman! I bet if he had to retake a test he'd fail. Clegg
: Well, what's he digging for? You don't think he's still using worms? Billy
: Is that the secret? You come at them with a worm, they go to jelly. Clegg
: Well, they did at school. Truly
: You won't find that in Kama Sutra. Billy
: That's Indian funny stuff. Old Coop's invented Yorkshire funny stuff. Truly
: Heh, he didn't even recognize us. I expect after all he's been through his eyesight's not what it was. Clegg
: Does he carry one with him? I mean, huh, where do you keep a worm between engagements?
: Can I just... summarize the situation here? We've just seen Billy Hardcastle disappear up a tree. Truly
: Yes, I noticed that. Clegg
: Carrying what to the casual observer looked like a length of rope with him. Truly
: Length of rope. Yes, saw that. Billy Hardcastle
: Eh, da- Oh blooming heck. Clegg
: But, don't you think we ought to inquire what his plans are? Truly
: He seemed perfectly cheerful. Clegg
: What, climbing up a tree at his age? That could be construed as another bad sign. Truly
: How're you doing up that tree, Billy? Billy Hardcastle
: I'm doing great. Apart from a bit of trouble with this damn great knot.
: I don't know why they got so mad with Barry. He's just given the golf course a new hole. Billy Hardcastle
: He'd a' lacquered it, that one. Clegg
: I thought Howard was moving well. I hope he puts the kettle on.
: I saw Gavin Hinchcliffe yesterday.
: There's no need to get excited. Tom
: Yesterday I was interviewing a bank manager. Truly
: You, in a bank? Huh. Must have been a river bank. Billy
: I bet I haven't seen Gavin Hinchcliffe since we were at school. Truly
: Huh. Billy
: He looked just the same. Clegg
: Does it suit him, still being in short trousers? Billy
: No, nervous and twitchy. He must have jumped three foot in the air when I clapped him on the back and said, "How do, Gavin?" Truly
: I can understand that. It'd scare me on a sudden appearance, and I've got nerves of steel. Clegg
: Pass. Truly
: What I can't understand is what was Tom doing in a bank. Tom
: I often go to a bank. Truly
: Could one ask what for? It's not as if you had any chance of getting any money. Tom
: It's like Wembley; you go for the atmosphere.
: I think they're a lovely couple. They have something. Truly
: You like anybody who's balmy. Clegg
: That's it - balmy.
: What do you think about birthdays? Truly
: I think I've had too many of 'em. Clegg
: No, I mean, what do you think of other people's birthdays? Truly
: Oh, I can stand them. Clegg
: Good. 'Cause it's, uh, it's mine tomorrow. Truly
: Oh. Happy Birth... Clegg
: Don't start. I don't need fuss; I, I hate all that. They used to be harmless; nobody really bothered, but now, it's like a circus. Clegg
: You don't want balloons? Clegg
: Excuse me while I go and upchuck behind that bush.
: One tactic for these occasions is to lie. I'll guide you through. Clegg
: Lie? Truly
: You know, sometimes called giving evidence.
] Compo Simmonite
: I could murder some fish and chips. Foggy Dewhurst
: You usually do. Norman Clegg
: If ever there's been a neglected subject in poetry, it's vinegar.
: Wives never understand. They don't understand the masculine urge to test oneself to the limits in some alien environment. Clegg
: Good God, that reminds me! I must go to the post office.
[Foggy, Clegg and Compo stand watch while Howard changes his clothes in Clegg's house
: [to Clegg
] Tell him alright, Pearl's nowhere to be seen. Clegg
: [to Compo
] Tell him alright, Pearl's nowhere to be seen. Compo
: [to Howard
] Tell him alright, Pearl's nowhere to be seen. Howard
: [to Compo
] She could be upstairs. Compo
: [to Clegg, mocking Howard's tone of voice
] She could be upstairs. Clegg
: [to Foggy
] She could be upstairs. Foggy
: Thank you, I got the message. Good grief, it went through more hands than Mae West.
[Compo, Clegg and Foggy stand in Clegg's driveway. Howard emerges from Clegg's house in drag:
: How's it feel, Norm? That must be like watching the wife come out of the house again. Clegg
: Mmm, not really. Different moustache.
: You've got to get me out for a break, Cleggy. Clegg
: *I've* got to get you out. Howard
: Not just you. You can employ help if you like, Clegg
: Well, what do you want, the SAS? Howard
: Have you got their number?
: No, Pearl'll go mad. They're so heavy on people's paintwork.
: I remember Wagstaff; didn't want to go to Heaven if there was no marmalade. Truly
: No way was he going to live forever without a full English breakfast. Billy
: You have to suspect that Heaven's going to be big on organic and plenty of fibre. Alvin
: Anyway, Wagstaff was looking in the wrong direction if he wanted toast.
[Ivy lectures Sid while Compo and the others look in unnoticed through the café windows
: And don't you forget it!
[Ivy wallops Sid on the top of the head with a serving tray, then exits into the kitchen
: [Compo enters the cafe
] Compo Simmonite
: Ha-ha-ha! She's playful with a trayful, is your Ivy. Foggy Dewhurst
: It'll only be a mild concussion, Sidney. Norman Clegg
: I'll tell you something, Sidney. Someone's gonna dig up this skull in a million years' time and come to the conclusion that there was a breed of Yorkshiremen with very flat heads. For which, of course, the flat cap had to be invented.
] Norman Clegg
: You'd think she'd have more patience with infants in prams. Foggy Dewhurst
: She's never looked a string of patience to me. I was once bitten by a Jack Russell terrier that was friendlier than that. Compo Simmonite
: Well, she's never bitten me. And it's not as though I haven't tried. Norman Clegg
: [strolling through the countryside
] Okay, so we've come all this way. Now what are we gonna do? Truly
: Do? We are going to do what I came back to my birthplace to do. I bet you're not dressed like a tourist, but look at the view! Clegg
: [lagging behind the others
] You better start without me. As soon as I get me breath back and me eyeballs stop wobbling, I'll catch up with you.
: [referring to a cold, wet Compo
] I think his timbers are shivering.
: Well, the trouble with you people is you're not as fit as you used to be. Clegg
: I don't think I was ever as fit as we used to be. Compo
: I'm knackered. Foggy
: Lost some of the... polish has gone from the top end of your performance curves. Clegg
: Nay, you mustn't go jumping to conclusions just because we can't breathe and our legs collapse. Compo
: What tha' talking about, thou long-shanked basket; tha's just as puffed as we are! Foggy
: That's ridiculous. Compo
: Even poofier. Foggy
: I've always kept myself in first-class fighting trim. Clegg
: Yes, but your trim has become a short back and sides, Foggy. Foggy
: What's a scientific term for flashes in front of the eyes? Clegg
: Indecent exposure?
: I do enjoy hearing people discuss politics. It makes you realize there are things more boring than growing old.
: I think I liked Aubrey better when his knees were wobbly, Billy
: True. But I see Aubrey as the kind of person who had legs that would sober up. Truly
: Hunh. Well, it just shows, you can't trust anybody. Clegg
: Well, even wobbly, you couldn't live long with Aubrey's knees.
: Hey, do you think Alexander the Great used to have a pack lunch? Clegg
: Oh, you can't go conquering without a pack lunch. They couldn't drop in to a Jumbo Burger. Truly
: History never gets down to these revealing details, like, uh... did the man have a painful corn, so he had to wear sandals? Alvin
: He'd have a corn specialist amongst his retinue, and an ear, nose and throat guy. Billy
: He died young, though, didn't he? Truly
: Well, maybe his corn went septic. Clegg
: Well, I expect if they were riding all day they probably got their corns somewhere else. Billy
: Stands to reason he'd have a pack lunch. I'll bet his mother said, "You can't go conquering the known world on an empty stomach." Truly
: Aye. "Keep off those oily foreign foods," she said. "Eat your greens." Alvin
: "And don't let me catch you up those mountains without a woolly vest." Clegg
: Do you think that's why he left home? Billy
: I used to come out here with an old Volvo headlamp, put it to me ear and listen to the universe. Clegg
: In Swedish? Billy
: Feel at one with nature. Clegg
: You feel at one with the ground being hard. Truly
: There's a hallowed police technique for calming unruly prisoners that used to make you feel quite close to nature. Clegg
: You never mentioned it at flower arranging. Billy
: And what did the universe used to say, tha must be wondering. Truly
: It used to say, "Who's that idiot with the Volvo headlamp?" Clegg
: "Oh, it's only Billy Hardcastle," it used to say, "earwigging again." Billy
: It used to say nowt, actually. Makes you wonder whether there's owt there. Clegg
: The question man has been asking since his time began: is there anything beyond the reach of a Volvo headlamp.
: The thing I like about this place is the peace and quiet.
[a car passes with music pounding loudly
: Don't you sometimes wish they'd bring back the death penalty? Truly
: It's what every policeman wants for Christmas.
: I wonder if I ought to give up betting on the horses. Blamire
: I don't believe it! Clegg
: I should give up losing. Just bet on winners. Compo
: Maybe I could start betting on the dogs. Blamire
: Oh. Now I believe it. You see, I didn't quite understand at first; I thought he was flirting dangerously with common sense, but he isn't. Are you? Compo
: No-o. Blamire
: You had me worried for the minute. The world is changing that fast you don't know what to rely on. But if he abandoned stupidity, that's my last certainty gone. Compo
: Well, My Last Certainty's gone and all. Come in fifth. Clegg
: Well, you won't be able to put so much on dogs. They're smaller. So that'll save you some money. Compo
: I think I fancy an ice lolly.
: I hate him. Clegg
: No, you don't. Compo
: Are you sure? Clegg
: Well, pretty sure. Compo
: That's funny; I thought I hated him. Clegg
: Puts your head in glass buckets, doesn't he? Compo
: Gives me fags. Clegg
: And it was only a short while ago he was giving you a V sign. Compo
] True. Clegg
: Well, there you are, you see. Nobody's all bad. Blamire
: [from the door
] Come on!
: You don't have to stop there; I mean, you could go right across the seas. Clegg
: Aye, and then what's the first place you bump into? Ireland. Dodge City with Guinness.
: It's all right up here, but you do miss the refinements of life, like Rachmaninov and clothing.
: Charming view. Sort of... boring. Clegg
: Nearly sickly enough for a postcard. Compo
: If I were a painter, I'd paint that. Blamire
: Oh, yes? What colour, eh? Great daubs of 'Up Leeds United'? Clegg
: How about 'Welshman go home'? Compo
: No, you can't send 'em home. They only get mistreated if they can't speak Welsh. Blamire
: What this view lacks is a few factory chimneys. Then perhaps there'd some work for our kind. Clegg
: Nature-lover. Compo
: You try speaking for yourself. Some of us are idle enough to still appreciate things like this. Anyroad, if them were all built up, where could I exercise my ferrets? Blamire
: You'd think a sensible nation could ferret out a few jobs for those who want to work. And especially a few for those who don't! Compo
: [whispers to Clegg
] I think Cyril's depressed. Clegg
: It's easily done. Some of us look at a view like this and all we can see is how bonny it is. But if you're really in tune with nature, if you concentrate and listen, then soon, faintly on the breeze, you begin to sense the million munching teeth of tiny things scoffing even tinier things. Depression could be a kind of art form; there's so much raw material going for it.
: Cyril, tha'll get used to unemployment, I promise thee. I did. Clegg
: Ah, but then you had a flair for it. Compo
: That's true. A' must be a gift. Blamire
: Oh, shut up and go to sleep, you two. You're like a pair of matching motor-ons. You wanted to waste time; all right, we'll waste time. I found you a quiet spot; enjoy it! Clegg
: Cyril, could I ask you something? Blamire
: What is it now? Clegg
: Could you tell me why we're lying on this ants' nest? Compo
: The thing about Rita Hayworth was she was just my size. Clegg
: Alvin, you shrunk Rita Hayworth? Billy
: What did Aly Khan have to say? Alvin
: It wasn't his Rita Hayworth. This was a lass from Macclesfield.
: Don't stare; it's rude. Billy
: Exactly. Anybody would think we'd never seen a bloke in a dressing gown up to his waist in water strangling a swan before.
: Must be about the only thing that's never gone up. Foggy
: What is? Clegg
: The guinea pig. Compo
: [knocking on door
] Wally! Come on! Clegg
: Then of course, with the urge of politicians to get rid of everything British, even the word guinea has to become a hundred and five p. Compo
: [calling through letterbox
] Wally! Hey-up! Wally! Clegg
: What kind of a name is a hundred and five p? Sounds like a geriatric malfunction.
: Yes, the military man has to forgo the pleasures of the domestic hearth. Clegg
: And very often the married man has to forgo the pleasures of the domestic hearth; in fact, marriage can be one of the fastest ways of forgoing them that there is.
: It's the only thing that worries me about going to Heaven. Would I ever get used to the height?
: A man is as old as he feels. Norman Clegg
: How old *do* you feel? Compo Simmonite
: As old as they'll let me.
: Drinks are on me tonight! Clegg
: All the bars are closed by now, except in down-town Majorca. Foggy
: Batman, hold that lamp still. Dewhurst never gives up.
: Yes, it's funny, isn't it? We went to school all them years. We got the three R's and a bit of woodwork. But not a word about how to fight the Third Reich.
: What do clouds remind you of? Compo Simmonite
: A cup o' tea and a meat pie at Sid's caf'. Norman Clegg
: Yeah, me too.
] Norman Clegg
: [dials 999
] Oh, ah, yeah, uh, um, fire brigade, please.
: Barnsley accent. I like it. You'd know where you were with a Barnsley accent; there'd be none of this flossy liberal stuff.
: Who married Whitehorn's lass? Billy
: Tall kid from Denby Street. Truly
: Venables. Billy
: Took to drink. Truly
: I thought that was you. Clegg
: Didn't we go to his funeral? Billy
: He's still alive! Clegg
: Oh well, we probably didn't then. Truly
: That was another Venables. Billy
: A dead one. You'd think some people'ld know the difference. Alvin
: [climbing out of river
] I'm Alvin, swimmer of rivers.
[Clegg and Truly are supporting Billy as they walk
: We'll cancel with the vicar. We'll tell him you've been called away. Clegg
: By voices. Little, whispering voices from the greenwood.
: Instead of traveling by bicycle, I might have been a Greek shipping millionaire. Billy
: Tha's not even Greek. Truly
: He could lie! I mean if, if people saw him dancing and breaking a few plates he might get away with it. Alvin
: I'm speaking hypothetically. Billy
: That's Greek for a start. Alvin
: Assuming I was born Greek. Clegg
: Uh, did your mother know you were Greek? I mean, as far as I know she never went farther than Bridlington. Truly
: Well, maybe he could be a Bridlington shipping millionaire. Alvin
: It's not the same, is it? I'm talking oil tankers and love affairs with opera singers. Billy
: Have you seen the size of opera singers! Tha'd need the bicycle just to give her a cuddle.
: This is Mitzi. Pearl
: Where'd you get it? Howard
: I promised Vernon I'd look after her. Pearl
: Vernon's died and left you his dog! Howard
: He hasn't died; he's gone to Manchester. Clegg
: The Battle of Mazurka, two hours at the most, huh. And our Alvin, without flinching, day after day, living next door to Nora Batty.
: The young are a great comfort as you grow older. Makes you realize that at least you're going in the right direction.
[they are all in the public loo, although the camera remains outside
: I see the phantom scribbler's been at it again. Foggy
: You don't have to bother reading them these days; just wait for the film. Clegg
: It's really boring standing so close to a wall; think they'd put a few pictures up like they used to do in the old railway carriages. Foggy
: With a big warning against any frivolous pulling of the communication cord. Foggy
: Why don't you move further down there? Compo
: Woo-hoo-hoo. Look at this! Foggy
: I wish you wouldn't say that in these places. Compo
: I only meant to draw your attention to this beautiful handwriting over here. That's talent, is that! Clegg
: It is if it's true.
: Answer the phone, Foggy. Foggy
: In a jungle, I could have crept up on you and cut your throat from ear to ear. Come on, wake up, man; it's a beautiful day outside. Clegg
: [lying back down
] It's not unpleasant in here.
: He won't beat me next time, the big gob! He's not past cheating, if you take your eyes off him. Truly
: This man must be ready for a pint. Billy
: Do I hear two? Clegg
: It's his legs. You can't fill legs like that. Boy
: [polishing his scooter
] Any time, Mr Hardcastle.
[Billy snarls at him
: The female form was always a mystery to me. Anything else you acquire with moving parts, you get a owner's manual.
: Sorry, Howard. I've moved to Chesterfield.
: Don't think I'm being nosy, uh, just because I'm being nosy, but how come you've got a name like Entwhistle? Entwhistle
: I changed my name, didn't I. From MacIntyre; I was forever being mistaken for a Scot. Truly
: What are you then? Entwhistle
: I'm a Yorkshireman, what else? Clegg
: So where does all this ancient eastern wisdom come from, then? Entwhistle
: Hull. I was born in Hull. As far east as you can get; any further you're in the Humber.
: [on a makeshift teeter-totter behind a wall
] It's a while since I did this. Clegg
: Didn't do it a lot in the police force, then? Truly
: Problem was keeping your helmet on. Billy
: Didn't you wear a chin-strap? Truly
: Very dangerous, chin-straps. A person could creep up behind, grab your helmet, start pulling back, and there you were being strangled. Billy
: Did it ever happen to thee? Truly
: Fairly regularly. Billy
: Hmm, sounds a bit rough. Where were you stationed? Truly
: It wasn't at work. It used to happen at home. It was the former Mrs Truelove. As soon as I came through the door, wallop, grab your helmet.
: [to Howard
] Anyone for tennis?
: [admiring the countryside as they stroll
] This is why a man returns to the place of his birth! Compo
: I was born in a bed me self. I often feel the pull of that! Clegg
: Often? Don't you mean always? Compo
: Probably! Truly
: In the pursuit of law and order, I've had to grab my share of gonads in my day. Clegg
: I hope he's washed his hands!
: You're looking very thoughtful, Truly. You look like a man who's thinking about life and death and what it's all about. Truly
: Well, actually, I was thinking about how much I used to like a kipper for my breakfast. But they tend to repeat. Clegg
: There you are, you see. Ha-ha. Why do kippers repeat? It's one of your fundamental philosophical problems. Truly
: What did Bertrand Russell say about it? Clegg
: Well, he mixed with the left, as you know, so naturally he blamed the Americans. Truly
: Did you ever have kipper for breakfast? Clegg
: Yes, I did, once. Huh. It was on honeymoon; we were at a hotel. I thought: "Why not? Everything else is weird." Truly
: I used to have a digestive system like an incinerator; I could consume anything. Well, you had to in the police; I mean you grabbed a meal when you could. First week in the vice squad you lost your appetite. Huh. But after that I could digest concrete, Which was just as well as that was what the former Mrs Truelove did best.
[Foggy has embarrassed himself in front of Ivy
] Foggy Dewhurst
: Why didn't you tell me? Compo Simmonite
: Has tha ever tried tellin' thee anything? Norman Clegg
: There's no harm done, Foggy. Foggy Dewhurst
: No harm done? She probably thinks I'm an idiot! Sid
: She does. She thinks you're an idiot. Foggy Dewhurst
: There you are, you see. How can you say there's no harm done? Sid
: There is no harm done, she's always thought you were an idiot.
: See ya, Compo.
: [led by Truly, Compo and Clegg are hauling a large object up a countryside hill
] Did we really have to come all this way to do it? I'm getting too tired to be tired. Compo
: Listen, I'm not doing it where anybody can see me - not till I get the hang of it. Not till I'm looking good. Truly
: Looking good could be regarded as a bit ambitious in your case, but put yourself in my hands, you'll soon get the hang of it. Clegg
: They'll never believe this! Compo
: They'll never know, unless some big mouth tells 'em! Truly
: Right then, chaps, put it down there.
: The car! Isn't that Barry's car over there? Billy
: I think it is. It is Barry's car. Truly
: Call me suspicious, but I wonder what he's doing lurking out there among the trees? Billy
: Barry doesn't lurk. He works for a building society. Truly
: So did the Leicester Square strangler. Clegg
: I bet he was in the claims department.
: Cleggy, can I leave this here a minute? Clegg
: If it's Marina, the answer is no, Howard! Howard
: Keep your voice down! It's not Marina. It's just something I don't necessarily want Pearl to see. Come on, Cleggy; she could come out any minute. Clegg
: Oh, bring it in then.
[series last lines
: Did I lock the door?
[the Trio are clad in Santa outfits, seated in a pub
: It's disgusting! What happened to the Christmas spirit? Clegg
: Oh, well, it's us crums. Seymour
: Crums? Clegg
: Christmas Resistance Underground Movement. I've been a crum for years, never realized it, but this morning has really cheered me up. Seems to me there are a lot of us crums about. Seymour
: It's disgusting! Compo
: Landlord, three pints! I'm gonna buy a drink for this here crum. Clegg
: We're just a small, disorganized, peacable mob dedicated to pulling Christmas back down to size. To preserving an air of misery amidst all this good cheer. Come back, Scrooge. All is forgiven.
: My theory is: muck. Compo
: I'm not surprised. Foggy
: As a nation we do not use good old farmyard muck in the way we used to. Clegg
: Well, not for spreading on the land, may be, but there's still a good deal of bull... Foggy
: Uh, uh, uh uh uh. Clegg
: Well, there's still a good deal of it about generally. That is western civilizations biggest post-war growth industry.
: [peering through the back window of Compo's hearse as it departs from the church for the cemetery
] We thought you'd like another wander through the hills, old son.
: A monkey on both ends. Huh. Well now, there's a novelty.
: I told you I was getting the hang of it.
: I can't believe Smiler knew a barmaid. Even one that squeaked. Smiler
: She was from Newcastle. Billy
: Oh well then, that explains it. Truly
: And what's all this about carrying the wife over the threshold? Clegg
: You can see where second marriages get more difficult. Truly
: I got a little too much to drink at the reception. I believe it was the former Mrs Truelove who carried me.
: [about Compo
] I wonder what he's up to. Grimy little Herbert. Clegg
: It's really none of our business, which I always think makes it that much more interesting.
: Where did you learn to be such a barefaced liar, Howard? Howard
: Pearl's been a great inspiration.
: I think Wesley's a bit heavy with the oil, especially on his overalls. Billy
: Try as you like, I don't think cookery will ever replace good food. Truly
: Don't you get fed up watching all these cookery programs?
: That's where we've been going wrong. We've been coming round this bend as pedestrians. No wonder we missed the bush. Why did we miss the bush? Norman Clegg
: Maybe it's not a bush stop.
: What are you wearing? Compo
: When? Seymour
: Tonight. Gough and Jessie's golden wedding aniversary. Compo
: I'll wear me suit. Seymour
: Oh, good grief! You and that suit have been married longer than they have. Clegg
: At least it fits. Seymour
: But who?
[Truly, Compo, and Clegg are lazing on a countryside hill
: Of course, police work had its dangers. Compo
: Too much heavy drinking, for a start. Mixing with funny women. Clegg
: Sounds more like you. Compo
: I thought I recognized that description.
: [about Billy
] You'll have to excuse him; his mother was frightened at birth. Landlord
: What by? Clegg
: Do you think you can ever really be forgiven for insulting a hat? Truly
: Huh. People used to laugh at me when I was a bobby, but I found if you smiled and were forgiving you could usually get the beggars later. Billy
: Sometimes they laugh at me for wearing such a big feather. Clegg
: Well, you should try wearing it in your hat.
: Kind heart and clumsiness; it's a combination that takes some beating. Blamire
: The world would end in chaos. Clegg
: Aye, but not as quick as it's got there being clever.
: Is this it, then? We've come all this way just to stare underwater. Truly
: Your father used to enjoy it. But then, he used to enjoy Nora Batty. Billy
: I suppose secretly we all have these weird ideas. Truly
: We noticed you do. Clegg
: I think that's true. I once went through this really bad patch when I thought I wanted to be the minister of agriculture. Billy
: That's really weird. Tom
: I have to ask: what is it exactly we're supposed to be looking for? Billy
: Tell him to keep an eye out for these weird wriggly things. Truly
: Sounds just like my time with the vice squad.
: Now, I made a very useful contact yesterday, if ever you should be in the market for any off-cuts of polystyrene. Clegg
: I don't know how you do it, Foggy. Foggy
: Being in the right place at the right time. Compo
: Hey, let's pop in and explain our rules to t' new librarian.
: It's a long time since we've been to a wedding. Clegg
: Oh well, I dare say we'll soon get the hang of it. Foggy
: With this lot, you never know what we might get. God, I hope there's not going to be any fighting. Compo
: Ah, don't be daft; everybody fights at weddings. Clegg
: I don't believe it's actually compulsory. Compo
: No, but there's such a thing as tradition, isn't there!
: What a splendid day it's been. Clegg
: We've covered some ground. Compo
: I'm shagged! Blamire
: Listen to him. We expose him to the wonders of nature, and that's his response. Pure poetry. Compo
: It's me red-'ot. Blamire
: Do yourself up then, and keep it in the shade. Compo
: Aw, me zip's got stuck a bit. There's nowt showing. Blamire
: I get this terrible dream that he'll start streaking. Clegg
: I wonder why the Lord made us with spouts like a kettle. I mean why not a small drain plug, for instance, in both feet?
: I don't do knitting by choice. Just Lincoln green tights. The wife flatly refuses, and you can't buy 'em. You ask for Lincoln green, they look at you as if you're thick. Truly
: I can understand that. Billy Hardcastle
: That's just what the wife says. Clegg
: I can understand that. Billy Hardcastle
: Well, must be off. If you weren't really strong willed around here, people would talk you out of being stupid.
: How come she was chaining herself to railings? Truly
: Seemed rude to enquire. Billy
: Pity. It might of been some sort of club the missus could have joined. Clegg
: Bring your own railing. Billy
: I could have bought her some, for her birthday. Clegg
: I think that's sweet. Truly
: If you're going to keep spoiling her, she's always going to be difficult. Billy
: That's true. Let her buy her own railings.
[in Sid and Ivy's cafe
: [turning to face Ivy
] Who *is* this Walter Ridley? Ivy
: I'm not surprised none of you lot know him. He wouldn't be daft enough for you lot. Truly
] It's possible we could train him. Ivy
: Mr. Walter Ridley is a gentleman. Clegg
: Why is everybody going to clean for him? If he's such a gentleman, how come he needs so much cleaning?
: Crowcroft. So, I mean, how is he? Truly
: Well, he was looking much better when he said goodbye. Clegg
: Goodbye? Where's he going? Billy
: Into a monastery he said. Truly
: In Peru. Alvin
: Maybe it's nice in Peru. Billy
: Maybe there are no warts in Peru. Clegg
: Huh. I must admit I've never seen a Peruvian with a wart. I was only thinking so this morning. I suppose we've led such sheltered lives. You get to our age and you've never seen a Peruvian with a wart.
] Foggy Dewhurst
: Stop squirming about! Compo Simmonite
: I'm bored! Foggy Dewhurst
: How can you be bored? Compo Simmonite
: It's easy. You just go
] Foggy Dewhurst
: You've got your health, and your strength, all those fascinating holes in your garments. If you want to do something, why don't you do something about them? Compo Simmonite
: Ah, I'm fed up! Nothing ever happens round here. Norman Clegg
: Well, be fair. We had a war in 1939. Compo Simmonite
: Aye, and that were an away match.
: I couldn't sleep last night for the wife snoring. Truly
: Didn't you give her a nudge? Billy
: She's in the next bedroom. Clegg
: Have you always been that close? Billy
: She sleeps with her sister. She says I'm the wrong temperature for sleeping with. Clegg
: Well, I think she's hinting that your thermostat has gone. Truly
: What temperature does she like? Billy
: Sub-tropical. I keep thinking there's a monsoon any minute. Clegg
: Yeah, they like to be warm. That generation had more clothes on in bed than than they wear for going out these days. You needed a honeymoon just to find your way about.
: I'm looking for a strong, male ballad singer. Norman Clegg
: Unsuitable on all three counts.
: He conceived the bold idea of asking Nora Fogarty for a lift. Of her skirt. To put an end to those rumours as to what she had printed on her underwear. Some said it was the device of the Egg Marketing Board. Whatever it was, it set him off on the wrong foot. He developed this penchant for funny women, and was last seen loitering sadly outside Sugden's chemists.
[the Trio are drinking in a pub, after Clegg has fallen from a fence onto his head
: Hey, listen. If you promise to keep it to yourselves, I'll tell you a scandalous secret. When you get a good bite, Yorkshire tastes terrible. Seymour
: There's a moral there somewhere: Never fall with your mouth open.
: I can't see telling people they were adopted. Clegg
: You should have known that I was joking. People couldn't afford to adopt; they had to do it by installments. They only got as far as adopting one of your legs, and then the war broke out. Howard
: You're pulling my leg, again.
[Howard starts to leave, then returns
: Which leg?
: Oh, Barry.
: My hero.
: Do you think God keeps an eye on everything? Truly
: No, that's special branch. Clegg
: I thought it was her behind the curtains at number twenty-three. Billy
: It's very difficult round here to get a serious conversation. Truly
: Yeah. We've noticed that. Clegg
: We think it's because we mostly meet idiots. Billy
: I expect they think the same.
: [Mrs Avery's full-sized bus passes by
] What a big bus! Truly
: Aye, she has, hasn't she? Clegg
: The vehicle. Truly
: Oh! The vehicle!