Right, what have we got?
I've narrowed it down to three.
Nae repeats, mind.
Naw, nae repeats. We're no' going up the rubbish channels, either.
BBC Nine and all that shite. That's the wrong end of town.
And I'm no' watching Gobblebox.
Gogglebox?
What did I say? Gobblebox.
That would just be a pile of people sitting round watching porno movies.
Oh, aye, aye.
Right, so the frontrunner is A Mile In My Shoes, a doc.
The trials and tribulations of two men swapping their lives
for a period of time.
One's a chairman of a big company,
and the other guy's a bampot.
That sounds brutal.
Socially experimenting on people.
That's Mengele pish.
Aye...
Camera crew - "Right, come here," filming him.
Boy's making an arse of it, we're sitting at home heehawing
and laughing at the poor bastard's misery.
It's definitely no' right. It's bad form.
Do you want to watch it? Aye, get it on.
Here, I wonder what would happen if you and I swapped houses, Victor.
Well, I'd come to you on a Tuesday and you'd come to me on a Wednesday.
Aye, as opposed to me coming to you on a Tuesday
and you coming to me on a Wednesday. I would, however,
be worried about my chip pan if you were living in my house. How so?
Well, I'd be lying in my bed - actually your bed -
eyes staring out my head,
worried sick that you'd be rummaging about in my kitchen,
drunk on my drink,
looking for things to deep-fry in my chip pan.
And why not? I'd be hungry.
But I'd be bitterly disappointed
because you've no' got anything in your cupboards except tins.
So then I'd be arseing about with your shonky can-opener
trying to wheedle the Spam out the tin and into your fryer.
There it is right there, Jack, eh?
Frying Spam in the dead of night, three sheets to the wind.
"Oh, I know what I'll dae.
"That Spam'll take a wee while to cook through.
"I'll just have a wee snooze on the couch here cos I'm leathered."
Oh, I know what this is.
This is a chip-pan-fire scenario, innit?
Yes. First the handle - puddle of black plastic.
Then my curtains - boof!
The whole kitchen ablaze. The guy upstairs going off his nut,
wondering where all the heat's coming from!
And me, at my age, up umpteen floors
on a fireman's ladder,
trying to get out the building.
That widnae bother me. How?
Cos my worries would be over.
I'd be burnt to crisp.
Jack Black.
Aye, lucky you, eh(?)
Aye, well, that's a result.
Oh! What?
I've got chips on!
HE CHUCKLES
Enjoy your roll.
Thanks, Sinead, hen.
Oh!
Please, Isa, join us(!)
What can I get you?
Oh, nothing for me.
Just a tea, hen. I'm watching my weight.
I'll maybe have a wee roll wi' sausage,
and put an egg on it, a wee bit of bacon.
What's that you've got, Victor? Roll and black pudding.
Aye, a wee bit of black pudding an' all, hen.
Stick a tattie scone on the top of it.
Do you want beans an' all? Naw!
SHE LAUGHS
Well, maybe a wee forkful, hen.
Right.
Oh, uh, Sinead, congratulations on your one-year anniversary.
That's flew in.
How did you know?
I just seen wee Fergie across the road.
He was buying you something nice.
Of course I'll no' say what it is.
Flowers!
That's remarkable, Isa.
You manage to order the whole world on a roll and keep a secret
for 52 whole seconds.
Shut up.
A wee slice of tomato an' all, hen.
Tomato. Can I get that to go? Aye, nae bother.
We've got a wheelbarrow oot the back.
Eh?
Nothing.
All right, team? Ah, Fergie.
Happy anniversary, son. Flowers.
All right, doll?
Happy anniversary.
Aw, they're lovely. I got you some aftershave.
What were you doing, spending all that money?
Calvin Klein?!
No. It was only six quid.
Calvin Klone.
Thanks. Fire us up a roll and scrambled egg, will you?
SHE COUGHS
Are you doing anything special tonight?
We're gonnae get a KFC.
Fitting.
I'm no' quite across what all the anniversary years are.
I know 50's golden and 40's ruby.
So one year must be...chicken?
No! Sure the first year's paper.
Which a KFC is wrapped in.
That was my thinking. Aye.
Ohhh... What's the matter? No...
Nothing...
Here you!
That's enough of that. What?
Looking at that lassie.
What lassie?
THAT lassie.
What, her?
That lassie that just came in there in the two-piece suit
and sat down at the window, with the flattering light on her? Aye.
I wisnae looking at her.
You were.
You're allowed to look, aren't you? Fergie!
Well, she's happy enough wi' her flowers.
Enjoy your roll.
Isa, do you want a hand out the door wi' that?
Where did you get the flowers?
Across the road.
At least you didnae get them out the garage, like a lazy bastard.
I got them out the garage across the road.
You lazy bastard.
Hi, Isa.
Boabby, son.
Wow, Navid. 40 year!
Congratulations. That is some shift.
Thank you, Boabby. I thought, "How do you mark it?"
You give something back.
So I've rolled back the prices to 1976.
Excellent.
I'll take two dozen bottles of Scotch and all your fags.
Scotch and smokes are exempt. Why's that?
Because I never had time to phone Customs and Excise
to inform them that some poxy shop in Craiglang
was having a rollback experience.
Fair enough.
A packet of Nic Naks, then.
55 pence.
They're always 55 pence.
Where is my 1976 rollback?
My shop opened in 1976.
Nic Naks were launched in 1981.
They are also exempt from the rollback bonanza.
Fine! A tube of Pringles.
Pringles have been around for donkey's.
I'm afraid you are the donkey here, Boabby.
Pringles, the taste sensation,
burst onto the snack scene in 1967.
Good. Get them beeped.
But that was in the US.
In the UK, they were launched in 1991. Exempt!
Have you actually got anything from 1976
that costs what it cost in 1976, Navid? Of course.
This shop is a treasure trove of savings today.
You, uh, just need to find them.
Da-dee!
Warm.
Hot. Hot. Roasting!
Cold again.
SHE MOUTHS
Bleach?! You dick!
Well done.
Sale Of The Century. The Price Is Right. Bleach!
Okey dokey, then. Today's price - 35 pence.
1976 rollback bonanza price -
34 pence.
Ah! Nae luck, Boabby.
Thanks for playing.
Have you enjoyed your time with us?
Aye, I've had a lovely... Oh, for fu...
Unbelievable! Bloody bleach. I don't even need bleach.
You don't need bleach? I've smelt the toilets in the Clansman.
SHE LAUGHS
I'm a busy man, Navid. I don't need this garbage.
How are you busy?
I've got the brewers coming in the day.
I've got barrels to change.
I've got the cellar to clean. I've got stocktake.
It's all right for you, eh? You've got it cushy.
Cushy?
You've got your missus doing all your heavy lifting.
You've got Isa cleaning the place for you,
sweating like Susan Boyle in a cake shop,
while you sit on your wee throne, watching Loose Women.
Cushy.
Cheeky bastard. There's nothing cushy about my job.
TRANSLATION:
Eric. Jack. Victor.
Hi, Fergie.
Have you got a minute?
Lager, please, Boabby. What do you want, Fergie?
It's delicate.
Uh-huh. It's about...marriage and that,
and I want to ask you guys advice.
On marriage?
No, no, you're talking to two old fellas from a different era.
I mean, I was married at 21, for God's sake.
An eejit! A young daftie.
Aye, me an' all. I don't know what I was thinking.
21! Stupid, doolally bastard.
I got married at 21.
Did you, son? Carry on.
I see yous two as the ancients.
I'm no' sure I like that, "ancients".
No! The elder statesmen. The wise men.
Go on.
It's just...
See my marriage?
I'm not saying it's no' good, but a lot of time's passed.
A year's a long time?
Huh, right enough, aye.
You must be sick of the sight of one another.
The old 12-month itch.
Is this because you were ogling at that lassie
in the cafe the other day? I've no' done nothing. Good.
It's just...
when I married Sinead, I hadn't really been with anybody else.
She's beautiful an' all that,
I just feel I jumped in a bit quick.
Right, let me stop you right there, Fergie.
Temptation is the trial of every red-blooded man.
Marriage is like a fine old classic car.
If you leave it lying, well, it goes rusty.
And then when you're wanting inside it,
you try to get your key in, it'll no' start.
You get me? So, if you've got a classic car,
make sure you're always polishing the bonnet.
I have been polishing the bonnet.
Aye, but now you're wanting to
polish this other lassie's headlights. Eh?
You see, Fergie, your modern women have all these new needs.
You know, fresh demands.
Like the cly-toris.
Don't get embarrassed, Fergie. Victor's right.
Today, it's all about the cly-torises
and making a real effort to reach your woman's G Plan.
G-spot, Jack.
G-spot? What did I say?
G Plan. That's furniture.
Oh, aye.
So, when you have located the G-spot...
Listen, guys, that'll dae me.
That's plenty.
No, give us a minute, we know what we're talking about.
You've seen Kayleigh. She's beautiful, man.
What would you dae?
I'll tell you what I'd dae. Carpe diem.
Carpe diem?
Carpe diem, Fergie.
Carpe diem...
Carpe diem.
Two lager, Boabby.
What does "carpe diem" mean, Jack?
Carpe diem? It's Latin, sure.
It means do right thing. Toe the line.
Behave yourself.
Oh, aye, stick with the missus.
Straighten up and fly right!
Carpe diem!
Have you got 50 pence for a cup of tea, mate? No?
Mick?
Aw, Fergie, it's yourself.
Aye. Here, Mick, you're good wi' words and that, aren't you?
It has been suggested that my loquaciousness is legendary.
Aye, well, have you heard the phrase...
"...carpe diem"?
Yes. What about it?
What does it mean?
It's a Latin aphorism,
taken from book one of the Roman poet Horace's work Odes from 23 BC,
which I don't hold with.
I reckon it's later.
Aye, later.
But what does it mean?
Seize the day, as in now, get it done.
Don't leave it hinging till it gets minging.
Seize the day?!
Wow. Thanks, Jack.
Thanks, Victor.
Seize the day.
Here I come, seize the day.
Navid? What can I get you?
You can get me an apology. Make it a large one!
Apologise? For what?
All that cushy crack in the shop. What about it?
Let me take you back 40 years to when I started my cushy wee shop.
I was the only dark face in all of Craiglang.
Every time I put my shutters up, somebody put my windows in.
Every time I shut my shop at night, somebody broke in.
Chucking out alcoholics,
patting down shoplifters,
battling neds,
dodging boys with blades.
It was a war zone.
And meanwhile, what were you doing, eh?
"Oh, would you like a piece of ice in your Campari and soda?"
"Oh, salted or dry roasted?"
So what are you getting at?
I'll tell you what I'm getting at.
I could do your job standing on my head.
But you widnae last ten minutes in my place.
So apologise, or walk a mile in my shoes.
Thing is, Navid,
sometimes I just open my mouth and I let my belly rumble.
I've upset you and, for that, I'm sorry.
Well, good.
I accept.
So you away back to your cushy wee sweetie shop!
Bastard! Oh, Jesus!
Whoa! Whoa! That's enough, that's enough.
Stop that! Two grown men fighting!
Well, one grown man and another one wi' learning difficulties,
but you know what I mean. Enough. Did I get that right, Boabby?
You're saying Navid's job is easy?
Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy!
Lemon squeezy, eh? I'll squeeze your neck!
Settle down, settle down!
And you're saying, Navid, that Boabby's job's easier?
Easier. Peasier.
Lemon squeezier.
Right. Well, there's only one way to solve this.
HE GULPS
SULTRY MUSIC PLAYS
Ooh...
MUSIC STOPS
No sale.
Boabby, where are you? We're parched here!
Service, please!
NAVID: Give us a minute! I'm in the cellar changing a bloody barrel.
Is that Navid's voice?
It's magic, eh?
Already? First one that runs greeting to the other loses?
Oh, this is going to be brilliant.
Oh, it's a good time to be alive.
Ah, here we go.
Bob Hope and Bing Crosby.
AMERICAN ACCENT: Well, what do you say to that, Bing?
AMERICAN ACCENT: # Give us a couple of drinks
# Ba-ba-ba-bawbag! #
Two pints, prick!
What did you say to me?
Two pints.
After that?
Prick.
I'm a prick?
You come in here, all puffed up,
and you call me a male appendage?
A sexual organ? A dirty, filthy, stinking, unwashed phallus?
Hold on, Navid, this isnae how it works.
You're not meant... No, we normally we come here...
Yes, you come in and humiliate the man
in the foulest sense, in front of the community?
Not on my watch, you cheeky wankers!
Oh, well, sorry. Sorry.
What do you want?
Two pints of lager and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps, please, Navid.
Salt and vinegar... salt and vinegar...salt and vinegar.
Isa, jump down to the cellar,
get a box of salt and vinegar crisps, will you?
I don't work for you in here, Navid.
I work for you in the shop.
A large whisky, please, Navid.
Am I having a stroke?
What's he...
Don't ask.
There you go.
What's that?
That's a whisky.
No, I asked for a large whisky.
Aye. But that'll do.
Look, there's no' even enough in there to clean my specs!
Get another one in there. No. What?
I have known you for many years and you only have two moods,
despondency or rage.
I believe the reason for this is
that you are constantly nursing a hangover.
And that's why I want a large whisky,
because I've got a hangover.
I'm trying to save you from the endless roundabout of misery. OK.
I'll be the first to admit that I do drink a wee bit too much
and I suppose I am on a bit of a roundabo...
Look, just get me a large whisky in there,
right now, before I say something I regret!
Say it.
I want Boabby back.
Where's my crisps?
Isa!
It's my day off, Navid! I'm getting pished!
Not on his shift, you're not!
Meena, if you want to be with Navid over at the Clansman,
feel free.
It's stone dead in here.
TRANSLATION:
Just take the afternoon.
I've got this.
SHE LAUGHS
BUZZER
THEY ROAR
HE SCREAMS
Here, what are you doing?
I'm Doctor Who. We're going back in time.
HE SINGS
Winston, keep an eye there.
Tell me when Davros is coming out from the back shop.
Psst.
Bit of service here, please, Navid.
Certainly, Tam. What can I get you?
Uh...a cheese toastie,
a Cointreau and a packet of Scampi Fries, please.
Toastie, Cointreau, Scampi Fries. 28 pence, please.
It'll be a couple of minutes for your toastie.
Oh, I don't mind waiting, Navid. I like my cheese well melted.
Sometimes, you know, I think my brain has melted.
I mean, what was I thinking, coming round here to run a pub?
I don't know the cost of anything in a licensed public house.
I'm just a daft Muslim who runs a corner shop.
BELL RINGS
Oh, there's your toastie.
28 pence, please.
There you go. Thank you.
Oh, I nearly forgot! What do you want in your Cointreau?
Just a wee dash of lemonade, please.
So that's 28 pence for the drink, the snack and the toastie
and...
...and £4.12 for the dash.
Do you think my head buttons up the back? Chancer!
Jack! Victor!
Fergie?
Terrible, innit? Oh...
Him sitting there, only a year married, and look at him.
Poor Sinead.
I thought that boy had his head screwed on.
I don't know where he got such an idea.
Sweet sherry, Navid.
(Fergie!)
How yous doing? Are yous good? Aye?
"How yous doing"?! What are YOU doing? Eh?
I'm just doing what you told me to do.
What did we tell you to do? Seize the day!
I never said that!
What did I say? Carpe diem.
That's right. Seize the day!
No, that's no' what it means.
It means do the right thing, toe the line, behave yourself.
Winston, what's your understanding of the term "carpe diem"?
Seize the day. Act immediately. Now is the moment.
It means get her knickers off!
Scantium pull-doonium!
Panties removis!
THEY GROAN
Navid, two lager, please.
What did you do with the two that I gave you? We drank them!
And you're wanting another two already?
Give it another half hour, I'll consider it.
Stick another goldie in there, Navid.
Not for another 12 minutes, you red-faced inebriate bastard.
Fergie, listen to me. You're a married man.
Calm down. I'm just sitting with the lassie, having a juice.
It's all very innocent.
Fergie, I thought it'd be nice to ask my parents to join us.
Mum, Dad, this is Fergie, my new boyfriend.
HE GASPS
Fergie, you filthy wee pig.
Sinead!
Carpe dum-dums.
'Mugged by a couple of kids.
'How embarrassing.
'Still...
'nobody seen it.
'Nobody needs to know.'
BUZZER
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT
Hi, Meena.
TRANSLATION:
Well? It's a simple question.
What was the question again?
I asked you who that lassie was that came in when I kissed you.
Well, that lassie that came in there...
then marched out...
Who was that?
Jack?
Eh, Victor?
Winston?
Tam?
Eric?
Navid?
The lassie is Sinead, Fergie's wife.
The wee creep's married.
You snake! Right, you, you wee shit!
It's no' KFC you're getting the night. It's GBH.
RAISED VOICES
Quiet, please.
Can you be quiet?
THEY TALK OVER EACH OTHER
Be quiet!
Thank you. Right, Isa, will you tell us what you saw?
Aye. Well, there's things I saw but I heard much more.
Mary Shaw, that works in the laundromat... Yous know Mary?
She's just left her man
cos he was stealing knickers off washing lines...
Yes, I know!
Anyhow, she said that Fergie and Kayleigh
have been getting right pally these last few days.
I heard that an' all. I knew you two would be in here.
I've no' done anything! Shut up! You'll get your say.
Thanks very much, Isa. Now be quiet.
What do you think she means by "pally"?
Pally? I'll tell you what she means by "pally".
You doing the dirty with my man!
Oh, well, maybe if you'd paid attention to him
he widnae be sniffing round me! What?!
THEY ALL SHOUT
Shut up!
Every one of you!
Two minutes I'm down there changing a barrel, and I come up to what?
Arma-bastard-geddon!
You've got 30 seconds to take this low-order, scum-sucking,
gutter-sniping, red-neck, Jeremy Kyle behaviour out of my pub!
Right, you heard the man. Come on.
Listen, Sinead. I didnae have any idea he was married.
Really? Really. But the main thing is, nothing happened.
Nothing at all.
I'm sorry. I just wanted to see what was out there.
Fergie, maybe we did get married too young.
Go and see what's out there.
Pint of lager, please.
Aye, we'll take two lager and, uh, Isa'll have a sherry.
No! I'm no' selling any more alcohol.
What's your problem?
You stand in that shop of yours and you serve booze all day! Aye.
But you go back to your rats' nests and consume it.
But in here, I have to witness it.
It is like Sodom and Gomorrah...
with crisps.
You win.
I want my pub back.
NAVID CHUCKLES
Oh, this is a great day.
You want your pub back
because my wee cushy number isnae cushy at all, right?
Right.
Say it.
Say what?
"Navid, your shop is no' cushy."
Your shop is no' cushy.
Yes! I win! Champion!
Damn right it's not cushy!
But this pub? This pub is crazy cushy!
Piece of piss!
Boabby, kiss my ar...
THUMPS AND GROANS
Bastarding pub.
He's got a lovely arse.
I deserved that.
Oh, love's young dream!
Hey, lads.
Yous two patched things up, aye?
Aye, after an appropriate amount of grovelling. Six days.
Aye, and two weeks in Santa Ponsa.
Oh, that's excellent. Oh, it's good you've sorted it out, eh?
Que sera, sera.
What does that mean? Och, it's Latin phrase. It means...
Shut up, Jack.