Peep Show

Sex over. Now the smiling and staring.

I think Dobby might be bored with me, sexually. I'm vanilla. I should be...

not neapolitan, that's too '70s,

but pistachio - slightly unpleasant, but novel.

I was thinking of booking that country house hotel for your birthday.

Really? Cos, country house hotels...?

I mean, doesn't working in a Mexican restaurant mean we'd be better suited

to a Premier Inn and a bottle of supermarket voddy?

Or I could pay.

No way. I'm being the man here and paying for everything.

I'm taking you away. I might even carry you over the threshold.

OK, Captain Caveman!

Would you be able to drive us? It's in Hereford.

Sure.

DOORBELL

DOORBELL Shall I get it? I've got your fluffy dressing gown on.

Thanks. 'Officially, it's a towelling robe.'

Might not be incredibly stylish but it is hugely absorbent.

Oh, did I tell you? Poor old Simon's mum's ill.

How horrible for him.

I might get a card.

I might get a card. 'The cool, good-looking ex-boyfriend whom I strongly suspect

'was far better in bed than me. His grief is mine.'

You got some money, Mark?

Hang on. 'Must be the Barnardo's man.'

He's unemployed, Mark.

Right. 'Is he, though? I'm pretty sure I saw this exposed on Rogue Traders.'

Just trying to make a bit of honest money, really.

Your neighbours have been very kind.

So, uh, what have you got?

Um, fluffy dusters, J-Cloths...

'Shit. OK, don't choose the cheapest in front of Dobby. So not J-Cloths.

'Not scourers. Fluffy dusters? I think they're relatively cheap.'

..or oven gloves...

Fluffy duster?

Fluffy duster? Sure mate. They're 11.

They're what?

11 quid. They're made of fibres.

'I'm being politely mugged.'

Thanks.

I'll go and make some coffee, Mr Generous.

I'd have just gone for the J-Cloths.

'Great, just wasted 11 on 4 worth of female approval.'

Right, I'm having that back. You've conned me.

I'm not some frail old lady in sheltered housing.

Get to fuck.

Are you OK?

It's fine. Things got a bit out of hand, but I took control.

So what did you think, Jeremy?

Wow. That's what I thought. Wowzers trousers.

You didn't fall asleep, did you? At one point I thought...

No way! No, I loved every minute of it.

The colours, the woman, the...

It was all great. Amelie is a fantastic film.

What a fantastic film.

Yeah. It's French, but you can easily work out what's happening

most of the way through.

Exactly.

Not predigested, Hollywood blockbuster crap.

That shit, trying to lure you in by entertaining you. It's so shallow.

You cabbing it?

I'm cabbing it.

I'm cabbing it. 'Won't tell her I'm bussing it.'

It's great, isn't it, how even though I'm an attractive guy

and you're an attractive girl, we can just hang out like great mates?

Yeah, just cos I'm going out with Ben...

'The shit.'

'The shit.' .. doesn't mean you and I can't be buds.

I mean, we have so many interests in common - foreign film,

fringe theatre, contemporary dance,

even those silver people in Covent Garden who stand really still

and pretend to be statues.

I adore, enormously, all of that.

And you run that book group, don't you?

Which is great, because I love difficult literature.

Wow! Another tick! I'd invite you but we're full up at the minute.

Does Ben... 'The shit.' ...go?

No. He hates reading.

No. He hates reading. Oh, he is missing out on so much.

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh. So many people just plod through life,

you know, thinking the same stupid thoughts

with their tiny, predictable, Identikit minds.

Most people just go around nodding to the last opinion they heard, don't they?

I agree.

Excuse me, Melvyn. Is one of you getting in?

Bye, then.

Bye. Thanks for a lovely afternoon of French cinema.

Au revoir, mon ami!

Indeedy. 'This is all so fucking sophisticated.'

See you tomorrow. A demain.

No, you da man!

'Why is that funny?'

And you're off it all? Crack as well?

But you love crack, it's your favourite.

Especially crack, Jez. I've stopped putting all that poison and shit

into my body and my precious brain.

Since when?

Since when? Since Tuesday.

I had a sort of road-to-Damascus flash on the A22.

Crashed the van into some guy's hedge cos I was so fucking wrecked.

And then this voice in my head -

sounded like Brian Moore, who used to do the football on ITV -

said, "Pack it in, son. Mug's game."

Well, that's very sensible, albeit hallucinatory, advice.

Mark, um...

Look, in here...

is my pipe and my last rock. I want you to have it.

I don't want it. It's illegal.

I want you to keep it, please. It's symbolic.

And if I come to you and ask you for it, I want you to tell me "no", OK?

OK.

Even if I hit you,

hard, with wood, or grab your arm and bend it up behind your back

till it snaps like a fucking KitKat, you still tell me no, right?

With wood?

Thanks, Mark. Legend.

So how's all this going?

Easy, man. Easy like a Sonntag Morgen.

I'm just finding other things to fill my time.

Like what?

Like what? Cycling, running.

I ran 10k yesterday.

I ran here this morning, then back home, and then back here again.

I'm cooking, knitting... Knitting like a fucking electric nan.

Did this scarf. I've got two quilts on the go

and a sort of tabard. It's cool. It's easy.

Great.

Great. You got any olives?

I've gone fucking mental for olives.

No, we...

Shit! Jesus! Where am I going to get olives?!

I'm craving the salt.

We've got salt.

I'm not going to go necking fucking salt straight from the shaker, Mark.

I'm not mad. Right, fucking laters. I'm going to sprint to Londis.

DOOR CLOSES

DOOR CLOSES He is a bit mad, isn't he?

Jez, I'm...

I'm slightly worried that Dobby might still be in love with Simon.

Yeah.

Yeah. D'you mean, yeah, you think she is?

No, no, I mean, yeah, I'm not really listening. Sorry.

And I'm worried that I might not be...

What?

What? Look, you know the actual... The act of intercourse...

Oh, my God! You're asking me for sex tips!

Pass me the cava and the big pack of Tyrrels - it's a girls' night in!

What would you say was the average amount of time before the man...?

Unleashes hell?

Unleashes hell? Yes. I want the average amount of time,

the mean... No, the mode or median.

Sting's probably thrown the mean out for everyone else.

Well, it depends, Mark.

It often depends on, you know, where you are,if you get me.

No, no, I don't want to hear about the bum, Jeremy.

I know for you it all revolves around the bum.

You're like the Copernicus of the anus.

You've got to know about the bum, Mark.

Otherwise, it's like only cooking with the hob and never using the oven.

The bum is the secret portal.

It's not much of a secret, though, is it, Jeremy? Be honest.

The bum is quite - if you'll pardon the image - an open secret.

So you think you've lost your dirty mojo?

Yeah, I am a bit desperate on that front.

I mean, I've even bought a...

What?

What? Nothing.

A what, Mark?

Blimey.

It's a dildo. I've bought a big dildo.

How big is it?

Nine inches. It's a nine-incher.

I thought it might spice things up.

Trouble is, I find it quite intimidating, as a man.

I mean, look at it, it's like a leg of lamb.

So I've decided to call it Kenneth, to take the curse off.

Kenneth?

Kenneth? Yes. "My colleague, Kenneth."

"Shall I fetch Kenneth?"

"Meet my sexual associate, Kenneth."

Makes him less daunting.

And has Kenneth seen action?

No. I mean, it might be the sexiest thing ever,

or it might be a massive disaster.

Dobby might hate it. So, for now, you stay at Brize Norton, Kenneth.

I don't think you're ready to enter Helmand yet.

So is your work still... 'Good? Bad?

'Does he like it there now? I've forgotten.' ..you know?

I despise every second of it. We're short-staffed

and Gail keeps making me do these extra shifts,

and she hates me since you tried to kill her.

Yeah. Sorry, man. My bad.

You should tell her you need time off. I'm no NHS Direct,

but this stress can't be doing your sex life any good.

Tell Gail she's exploiting you.

But then she'll fire me!

I don't want to be unemployed. I've got a girlfriend to impress.

And when Sophie gets back from Wales, I've also got a baby to impress.

Christ, Mark, you really need to grow a pair.