No objection to an identity parade?
None. We're socially responsible. Do we get the eight quid now?
We were just on our way to give blood.
- Right. - I get £6 a bottle 'cause mine's 90% proof.
They're swarthy-looking. Which is the criminal?
- These are the other volunteers. - That one? Eh? Oh, that's right.
- I'll bring the suspect in. - Give him a kicking, do we?
No, we let the witness identify him.
Oh, that's right. Good policing. Right, form a line, everybody!
Whoops, here he comes. Dear, oh, dear!
Look at that Neanderthal gait. Only learned to walk upright today.
Hanging's too good for you! How can he mug old ladies with his knuckles scraping along?
Hello, hello!
Me respectable citizen. He's making my flesh creep. You vile scum!
- Do you mind? - Ooh, it talks!
- What's next, a quest for fire? - Gentlemen, I'm Chief Inspector Grobbelaar.
Chief Inspector Grobb...
The suspects are highly dangerous. I don't want any of you fraternising, OK?
Look! Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog. Hello, boys! What are you doing here?
A bomb went off 200 miles away and they arrested us.
- I hope we're not IRA. - It's very secretive. We wouldn't know.
Even if you were, you'd be OK. You'd get 17 years in jail and then get out scot-free.
If I go down, I'm taking one of them with me.
- Why's that? - It's the way I fall.
That's him! That's the one! Vicious bastard. Ooh, me blood runs cold.
Hello, Mum.
Send him down! Electrocute him! Guillotine him!
- I'll tidy my room tomorrow! - Where's my handbag?
- What do you know about my father? - Nothing.
- As I suspected. - Concentrate on the bag.
It's hard to concentrate on anything else!
- Do you recognise any of these men? - I know them all.
- Who took the bag? - He did!
- It was a cross-dressing party. - Let's see.
- Your son borrowed your handbag? - Right.
- Villain! - Take her out for a good drubbing.
Oh, shit!
Eight quid each! It pays to be a responsible citizen.
- Oh, hello! - Hello.
- You're new. - Yes.
Good! In that case, hello! We're from Health and Safety.
Can we examine two halves and some pasties?
- Oi, Eddie! - See they got new staff!
- Great, innit? - No need to spend any of our line-up money!
Remember, lads, don't get too sloshed. We got another one in Paddington today.
- What's the crime? - Flashing. Make it convincing.
- Mum, do you want another drink? - Same again.
- Another three bottles of brandy. - I'd better test another eight pints of lager.
- There's a lot of government people today. - That's right.
How attractive you look in that short summer frock.
It's quite lovely, isn't it? Tell me, do you use Timotei?
With such beautiful hair, you must pop up a mountain,
dip it in a stream and flick it about.
Are you a Page Three girl? If you wanted to, you could be.
Take your top off, we'll give you our opinion.
Shut up, Eddie!
You know...
in the short time I've known you, I've fallen head-over-heels in love with you.
- What?! That's ridiculous. - It's crazy, but hear me out.
Ever since I was wounded leading the charge at Goose Green in the Falklands,
I haven't been able to make love properly.
Well, seeing as you're a barmaid - and we all know what barmaids get up to -
- could you see your way to... - Having you bunged out?
Well, I've never been "bunged out" before, but I'm game for anything!
- Was you in the Falklands? - Shut up! I'm on the brink of a shag!
- Have you read "The Joy of Sex"? - I don't read things like that.
We can just look at the pictures.
- When was you there? - Well, not for a holiday!
- So you're a veteran? - No! I was in the thick of it!
Someone else looked after the ponies.
# Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk
# Night fever, night f... #
That's tight-mouthed Larry, the bookmaker.
He's not very tight-mouthed today, is he?
- Now, dear... - When was you there?
- Are you a professional bore? - I was in the Falklands.
Yes, I bet you were, a chap like you. Got any proof?
Got me service medal, yeah.
- You all right, mate? - Yes...
I get like this when I meet a compadre.
So... Shit!
Er, great.
- You were there? - I was in Two Para.
You went twice?
- What regiment was you in? - The English one, of course!
- What outfit was you in? - The green patchy one, mostly.
With the twigs and a leaf. Camouflage. Not many of the chaps with busbies came back.
I remember looking at hordes of Argies going, "We surrender, Tommy! Hände hoch!"
I tell you, I'm perfectly all right!
Yeah, so how did you get on?
- Well...
Well... what?
- I lost me leg! - Oh, I see. Oh, dear! Er, how sad!
- No, look! There it is! - Look!
Eddie's found it for you. There it is, under your bottom!
Silly banana! A commando should keep track of his legs!
Nah, this is me falsie. Look at that.
Two-and-a-half grand that cost. Hand-carved by naked Balinese maidens.
- How do you know they were naked? - I watched 'em do it!
- That's why it cost so much. - £2,500, eh?
No, we can't!
Well...
Ha, ha, ha!
- It's great when we war horses get together. - Was you there as well?
- Er, oh, yes! - What outfit?
The grey off-the-shoulder slinky number with sequins and a split up the side.
Only joking. I was in Intelligence.
They dropped me behind enemy lines.
Quite a long way behind enemy lines.
Guildford, actually.
- What, by parachute? - No, dropped me from the army. Flat feet.
Did you yomp from Goose Green to Stroud Hill?
Yeah, we all had to do that. There were no lavs.
Just open countryside. Had to watch where you put your feet.
Must have been a bitch, squatting on one leg!
- But did YOU go to Stroud Hill? - Of course! Me and my mates.
There was me and, er... Ginger, er... Tommy,
er... Tiddles, er...
Er... Spot,
Joey, Snowy and er... Corky.
There isn't a Stroud Hill in the Falklands.
Er... Oooh... You're the ones that didn't find it? We had a laugh about you!
Right, here I am, then! Oh, no, I'm not.
- What did YOU do, then? - I can't talk about it.
Why, is it embarrassing? Shit your pants, did you?
- Cry, did you? - The opposite, actually.
You sucked water in through your eyes?
- No, I took Harrison's Point single-handed. - That could be nasty!
I shut Tucker's finger in the tank door, didn't I?
- I don't know. It's all bollocks. - Shh, shh!
- His mind's blanked it all out. - 'Cause it's so horrible?
No, he's just got that sort of mind.
Oh, well, must mingle. Charmed!
- That's where I got the GC. - Seen a doctor about it?
- You probably got germs in the cut. - George Cross!
Him, was it? You should have known better!
What did you do in the war, Spudgun?
- Nothing, I was unemployed. - Very convenient!
It is, I live very near the dole office.
That's not what I meant! I spilled blood for the likes of you!
- My appendix are on Mount William. - For what? A few farmers and penguins
and another term of office for Thatcher.
Oh, a Bolshie, eh? A pinko.
Interesting, isn't it? Interesting.
- You women never muck in in a scrap. - Interesting in what way?
Well, it's interesting because, I said it and anything I say is interesting per se,
and... Well, there isn't a 'Cause the was so great.
Have you any idea how women actually feel?
No, I haven't. That's my problem, really.
- Would you like me to tell you? - I'll take the practical.
- My mum's right. - Why don't you live in the Soviet Union?
- It doesn't exist. - And it's horrible.
- Er... that's my point! - Stupid point.
Ten years I fought in the Falklands! Ten long years!
We didn't have toilets! We didn't have telly!
No buses. We had to carry everything. Equipment, ammo - whatever that is -
souvenirs, shopping...
Yeah, shopping! I liberated Port Stanley Tesco's.
I was there when Prince Andrew got his undercarriage shot off. It was after the war.
I don't believe you were in the Falklands!
Don't believe me, eh?
- Take a look at this. - I'd rather not!
Go on! What's that?
It looks like a very small penis.
- Not that, THAT! - It's an appendix scar.
- Yes, and how do you think I got that? - An appendix operation.
Yes!
An Argie took it out with a bayonet!
I don't believe this so much I'm gonna smash your face in.
- I'd like to see you try, Hopalong. - You're about to.
- Give him one! - I will!
Just try, Buster!
- Eddie, hold me back. - I'm busy drinking.
What?
- This time, Buster... - That's enough! Calm down.
- Lucky escape for you. - It's on the house. What would you like?
- Sexual favours, is it? - No.
- No? What's wrong with me? - I think that's obvious.
Oh! Ha, I'm not a homosexual, if that's what you think.
But you're not strictly heterosexual.
Judas! I've never done it with a bloke!
But you've never done it with a bird, either.
- Has he? - No!
But I'm heterosexual in intent.
The nearest you've come to being heterosexual is locking yourself in
with an "Amateur Photographer" and a jar of hand cream.
Yeah, but I've done it mentally.
Boy, have I done it mentally! Look at that bicep.
You're bloody lucky I didn't hit you with that one! You'd be on a drip by now.
- Want some more? - Boys, let's finish him off.
- It's OK, we'll just watch. - All the best!
Oh, Lor!
Sorry, I'll have to stop this fight because I need somebody to hold on to.
I think I'm a little bit drunk.
Which way's my betting shop?
I've got a dead cert for the 3.30 at Chepstow.
Sad Ken. He's 100 to 1, but he's bound to come in.
It's a bit of a secret. Only us bookies know about it, so don't tell anyone.
Let's just keep it a secret between us few people in here, right?
No, tell you what, forget everything I said.
Just wipe it from your minds. All right?
- What did I say? - We can't remember.
- Thank God! - Chepstow.
- 3.30. - 100 to 1.
- Sad Ken. - My secret is safe.
Bloody hell, Eddie, this is our lucky day!
Free money from the police, free drinks from the bit behind the bar who I'm on with later,
and now a free tip from tight-mouthed Larry.
Let's see. Diddly-doo, diddly-doo. That's 16 quid to put on Sad Ken.
It's a shame, 'cause it's the chance of a lifetime. If only I had a huge wad!
- That or a huge pile of cash. - Yeah.
I've had a great idea. Come to the lavatories.
That's the same trick you try every Saturday!
This is no time to be an ugly, ignorant, no-brained arse-head from hell!
- We're stumped, then. - Yeah.
Come anyway. I have something of interest.
OK, anything for a giggle.
You wouldn't be laughing if you were in my shoes.
I'd have very wet feet if I was in your shoes.
Damn! Oh, who cares?
We'll have fur-lined lizard-skin thigh boots if my plan works.
Let's go over it again. Ooh, sorry!
Right! Now, this is the plan, OK?
We take off his leg, take it to the pawn shop,
put all the money on the horse, win, redeem the leg and put it back! He'll never know.
What could go wrong, especially with Sad Ken?
- Right! - I'll distract him, you swipe the leg.
Righty-dokey, matey, bloke, flap old salty seadog, amigo, jockstrap, piano tuner!
- Let's see you balls this up! - Righto!
Eddie, we're in luck. He's asleep. Get his leg off.
Aghh! Ow!
Eddie... Eddie!
- EDDIE! - What?
- It's the wrong leg! - What?
- That's the real one! - What shall I do with it?
Twist it back and slip it in the socket.
Phew!
Stick your hand up his trousers and undo his falsie.
OK, I'll do it.
There we are.
Go to the pawn shop and slap the money on Sad Ken.
- I'll keep him unconscious. - OK. Best foot forward. I'll leg it.
Morning!
- No, it's not! - It's a mink!
- See the pelt. - This is the third time. Bugger off!
- Ivory? - Yes, sir?
- Get lost! - A copy of "Health and Efficiency", please.
- We don't do those. - Not much of a porn shop!
- How much for the telly? - Ten quid.
- It's new and "Bob's Full House" is on later. - Exactly!
OK, give us a fiver.
Come on, Gran, I only want the gold one. Sad Ken's a dead cert!
Out the way, I'm trying to get me leg over!
Saucy sod! It'll cost you!
- What do you say to two quid? - Ta very much. How was it for you?
How much for this carved wooden leg?
That's a nice bit of objet d'art.
Must be worth at least two-and-a-half grand.
- I'll give you £1.50 for it. - Let's haggle.
- OK, a quid. - Haggle upwards.
50p!
You're not called Harry the Bastard for nothing!
- I'm called Ted. - Listen, Ted.
I've still got a photo of you, a Chippendale and a very large drum of Swarfega.
- Have you? - A-ha.
Then, I'll give you £500 for the leg. Now, bugger off!
# Hush, little baby, don't say a word
# Daddy's got a dead cert in the 3.30 at Chepstow... #
God, what's that 'orrible noise?
I've had a nightmare about a git with a tiny penis singing!
Quick, another seven bottles of Malibu.
- You government types can put it away. - You're not wrong there!
Sorry about that. Oh, my head. I'll just walk it off.
No! No, I'll walk it off for you.
- I feel completely legless. - You don't know the half of it, mate!
- Tell us another two-hour anecdote. - Well, there was me...
500 quid on the nose on Sad Ken, please.
- Would you like to pay tax? - Of course not!
- What a ridiculous question. - Another bundle for Sad Ken.
- 7p on Sad Ken, please. - 7p?
That's all Harry the Bastard gave me for my house.
OK, race on!
Here we go. Acapulco here we come!
This is it, boys, untold wealth.
- Birds! - Booze!
Budgerigars.
And they're off! They're nearly all off. Stuck in the stalls is Sad Ken.
No, he's off now. Gone in completely the wrong direction, rather slowly.
It's very sporting of them to enter a three-legged blind horse here.
He's hit a tree and he's down.
Back to the leaders... No, back with Sad Ken now.
I'm afraid they've had to shoot him. Sad Ken has been shot.
And so has the jockey.
After that, I went to my secondary school, where all the teachers had different names.
There was Mr Baker,
er, Mr Derbyshire,
who, interestingly, actually came from Berkshire.
- Richie... - Shh! I'm keeping him busy till Eddie...
Oh, it's you! Don't sneak up on me like that.
Us war veterans, they didn't call us Desert Scorpions for nothing.
They called you that 'cause you're small and poisonous.
- Shut up. You're not as interesting as me. - OK.
- Where is the loot? - Ah, well...
Brace yourself...
...because Sad Ken wasn't quite the wonder horse that we expected.
What?! Impossible! Tight-mouthed Larry said he was 100% cert.
- We had you! - Afternoon, suckers!
As your friendly landlord, can I introduce my niece, Veronica? How'd it go?
Like you said. They pretended to be from the government. And you're right about the git.
He HAS got a small penis.
That's your name crossed off my little list.
- Thank God. - You can throw away that list now.
- How much did they get through at the bar? - 2,000 quid!
- That's about right. - We made 14 grand on the race,
- minus two is twelve. - Six grand apiece. Not bad!
- BASTARDS! - Correct!
Shut up! The psycho's coming round. Where's his leg?
- There. - No, his other leg.
- He hasn't got one. - Get down the pawn shop!
- Give me 500 quid. - Into the lavvies.
Richie, it's illegal. And you'd never make 500 quid. You'd be lucky to get 10p a go!
I've got a brilliant idea. Into the lavs.
- What's the brilliant idea? - Panic! Aghh!
I'll handle this. Uncle Percy was in the trenches in the First World War.
- Know what he used to say? - What?
Aghh! Bloody hell! Thousands of Germans!
Who will rescue me? Mummy, I wanna go home!
Shut up! Shut up!
Shut up! Shut up! OK?
- This is a bloody good idea! - Want some more?
Why not mug the first person that comes in?
Great idea!
- What's that for? - You were the first in.
- But I haven't got any money. - Damn!
Not much in this mugging game, is there?
No, I'm talking about subsequent lavatarians.
The next person who comes in, we mug him.
Or her, if she's a perv. Never know your luck.
We get 500 quid, nip down the pawn shop,
redeem the leg and put it back on.
We'll be back home before you can say...
- Someone's coming into the toilet. - Someone's coming into the toilet!
Quick, Eddie! Let him have it!
It's Chief Inspector Grobbelaar.
Shit!
Get on with it, you filthy scum. Why not get a real job?
- Happy with the line-up? - No, you know it's us. We've no chance!
- That's the beauty of it. - How about a make-up artist or sex change?
I demand to see a lawyer... preferably a female nudie one!
If you'd shut up, I'll go down the line and see if I can spot the felons.
Damn! What happens now, copper?
I invite everyone to give you a damn good kicking.
- What?! - In your own time, gentlemen.