Friday Night Dinner

This programme contains strong language and very adult humour.

CAR CREAKS AND GROANS

Sounds like a goose. Seriously, I'm not missing the Grand Prix.

Maybe you could say that another 5,000 times(!)

Ah! The Grand Prix.

Jim? Is that the one with the cars or the horses?

What are you doing here? Just having our little walk, aren't we, Wilson?

In our drive? Hmm?

Well, goodbye, then.

JIM SNIFFS

Uh? Just checking for meat.

Meat? Yes. Wilson's on a no-meat diet at the moment,

so we have to be very careful, don't we, Wilson?

He's ravenous!

Um, we're not carrying any meat on us, Jim. Yeah. Not today.

That's good. All clear!

Thanks. Bye. Enjoy the horsies!

Come on, Wilson!

Meat? There is no way I'm missing the Grand Prix. Oh.

Don't you have your keys? Oh. Hello... Horrible...Grandma.

If you had your keys, then your poor parents wouldn't have to keep trudging to the door!

OK. May we come in?

Wipe your feet!

Dirty boys!

The pigs are here!

Hi, pigs! Hi. Hi, Mum.

You look nice!

Why can't it be her funeral today?

I'm sure it can be arranged!

Actually, I did see a large rock out there! Some small ones would do.

Just had a good sniffing from Jim. You what? Where's Dad?

Writing his speech. Dad's doing a speech?!

Which thick idiot had that idea?

My beloved brother passes away.

The least your father can do is get off his backside and say a few words!

Of course, Cynthia. Everything OK now?

The coffee's cold. You said you didn't want it too hot.

Neither did I want it too cold. I'll pour you a new one, then.

Well, it won't pour itself!

What happened to that? It fell over. Fell over or was pushed over? That's what I'd like to know!

Well, enjoy!

Well, sit down! OK... Horrible. ..Grandma.

Well, aren't you going to say anything?

Sorry Uncle Saul died.

Oh, Saul was a wonderful man!

Everybody loved him.

Hated him! The thing is, he ate too much, and in the end, it killed him!

His rectum seized up and his bowels imploded!

Eughh!

Bambinos. Dad.

How's the speech, Mr Churchill?

Pillock! Sorry, Mum. Where was Uncle Saul born again? Edinburgh? London!

He was a baker? Tailor!

Wife called Jean. He never married!

Who needs facts, eh, Dad?

I'm going to the shed! Bodes well! Bleedin' hell.

Here we are. Daddy looks happy(!) He just found his cyanide pills.

Ooh! Too hot! You're welcome.

Maybe we should get going. Yeah. But I haven't had my hair done, yet!

Your hair? You know what hair is, don't you?

But the funeral starts at ten... Horrible...Grandma.

No, it's at 12. You said ten!

Did I?

But that means I'm gonna miss the... Mrs Goodman, your personal stylist awaits! Hi, boys.

Hi, Auntie Val. Here.

Oh! Thank you, Cynthia!

It's not for you! I want you to carry it! Stupid woman!

Deep breaths!

- Can we get you a rock? - Huh?

Hurry up, Valerie! I hope she'll be all right.

Inside!

What? Why did you tell us the funeral was at ten?

Cos I wanted you to help with... Bugger-tits?

Yes, Bugger-tits. Boys, do you think she pushed our cabinet over?

But it's the Monaco Grand Prix! Is it? Who's playing?

Excellent. No-one's playing. It's the Grand Prix. I never miss the Grand Prix!

Oh, grow up, Jonny. It's your great uncle's funeral.

So? I hardly knew the guy! What? You remember Uncle Saul.

Large...gentleman. Large elephant.

Adam! Mum, he was a knob-head!

Jonny! He was a knob-head. Stop it! He was family. The family knob-head.

I'm sorry, everyone. Are you all right, love?

Could you get me a rock?

Hi, Dad. Wish it was my mother they were burying!

What are you doing? Sitting in the shed.

I think he means, "Why have you got a cloth on your face?" I did mean that.

It keeps out the light. Right. Also...

..it smells nice.

Mmm! Grubby!

Shouldn't you be writing your speech?

I don't know what to say about the bloody man! Who's making me miss the Grand Prix. Really?

Who's playing?

I've hardly written a thing. What have you written?

"He liked potatoes." It's a start.

"And most breads." There's your middle. All you need now is the end!

Prannies! I've just been reading his medical report.

Well, there's your speech. Makes you think, though.

One minute you're having your sandwich. The next, your arse blows up.

Yeah. Maybe don't say that.

I tell you, this family and its bottoms! Or that.

And I've got to carry his bloody coffin!

You're carrying his coffin? Bad luck, Dad! Might as well be carrying a bus!

I don't know why you're laughing. You're carrying it with me.

What?! We're... Yep. Coffin bearers.

Mmm!

Smelly!

Mmm!

I'm not arguing about it. You're carrying your great uncle's coffin.

But Mum, it's sinister! It's not sinister!

What, carrying a dead body is not sinister?

Don't be silly! It's in a box!

A dead body in a box - that's not sinister? That is definitely sinister.

How are we getting on in here?

Jacqueline, will you tell this woman to stop scraping my skull?

And Jacqueline,, will you get me a gin and tonic?

Um... With no tonic. Right.

Oh, dear!

OK, we'll carry his coffin. But that is the last coffin we ever carry. What?

Yeah. The last one. Apart from mine, obviously.

Sorry? Sorry?

When I die, you'll carry my coffin.

Huh?! No way! What?

You won't carry your mother's coffin to her grave?

Because that's not sinister at all, is it? What, dead mum in box.

Well. Clearly asking my own two sons to carry their mother's body

is too much to ask.

It is quite a lot to ask.

Unbelievable!

We're unbelievable? Unbelievable!

Uh, have you injured your brain, or something?

I can't believe you are literally refusing to carry my body.

All right. OK! We'll carry it.

Thank you. As long as you die in the next five minutes.

Starting now.

Is 17 words enough for a speech?

Martin, the boys are saying they won't carry my coffin.

They're not carrying your coffin, they're carrying Uncle Saul's coffin.

I mean for my funeral, you idiot!

They won't carry my body. Tell them!

Well, you'll carry your mother's body. Thank you.

Just make sure you wash your hands afterwards!

Well, I'll be very angry if you don't carry me.

Um, I don't think you'll know. Oh, I'll know all right!

Oh, yeah? I'll be watching you.

What? You wouldn't want your own mother watching over you when she's gone?

But what else, though? Martin, can you please stop drinking from that bloody tap?

Ahh! You sound like an ox!

Thirsty.

Well. It's obvious I mean nothing to you.

Not nothing, but...

Right!

Shed. Shed.

Jim. Hello, all!

What the hell are you doing there? We're just doing walkies, aren't we, Wilson?

What, down the side of our house?

Hmm?

Jim, we're really quite busy.

Yes, of course. You look nice in black.

Uh... Come on, Wilson.

SNIFFS LOUDLY

Jim? Wh-what are you...

Just checking for meat? Just checking for meat.

Meat? Yes, Wilson's on a no-meat diet, aren't you, lovely?

He's ravenous!

Jim, we're kind of going to a funeral today, so...

A funeral? Oh, dear. Who died? My uncle, Jim.

Oh, your Uncle Jim.

What?! Well, I am sorry, Martin.

Where will you be putting the corpse?

The corpse?! The carcass.

The usual place. In the mud?

The ground. Ground.

He's being buried at the cemetery.

Yes, of course. Is that the normal one or the Jewish one?

The Jewish one. Ah!

Shalom!

Shalom.

Well, thanks, Jim. I have to finish my speech, so...

Ah! A speech!

To be or not to be, that is the question.

A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a... Romeo!

Romeo! Is this a dagger which I...

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your...

That is it!

That bloody woman can shove her hair right up her arse!

SNIFFS LOUDLY

And she was just so... Horrible? Horrible?

You mustn't let it get to you, love.

But why would she say such things?

Why would she call me a prostitute?

I'm not a prostitute, am I? Course you're not a prostitute!

She said I was! Boys, tell your auntie she's not a prostitute.

Auntie, you're not a prostitute.

Thank you, boys.

Listen to this. Did you know, in the year Uncle Saul was born,

they erected the very first National Grid pylon?

Really? Well, that's one for the speech(!)

Don't worry. It's in.

Did you talk to her, then? Who? Your mother. My mother? Yes!

You were gonna tell her what a rude bloody cow she was, remember? Oh, yes, I remember.