Go on, go and chat her up.
Remember, you're a great lover.
Your father was a great lover.
He never said. How do you know?
Can't wait to hear this bit.
Well, all the ladies knew where he had a mole.
In the garden.
No... Not the one in the garden, no, the one on his...
- Gets better. - It runs in the family.
Uncle Willie, he had one.
Well, there you are, you see.
It's in your blood.
Now, go and tell her that she makes your heart swell.
It's the elbow usually.
Are you telling me I've got tennis heart?
No, no... Look, quick, before she gets away.
Go and tell her you like her hair.
I like your elbow.
Eurgh!
She's not in a good mood.
She's been hearing noises in the night.
There's something going off in that house.
Not as much as there could be
if only you would open yourself up to new experiences.
Oh, come on, they're daft as brushes.
Where is this mole exactly?
You heard, in his garden.
Oh!
TILL RINGS
COINS CLATTER
Ha! HE CHUCKLES
There you go.
- Good morning. - No, it isn't. - No, it's not.
We've just agreed that.
Because a man needs a woman in his life.
I need one out of mine.
Sorry.
I know what you mean, so a transfer's out of the question.
Well, don't look at me. I'm not on the transfer list.
You know what the trouble is?
We don't give the day a chance to get started
- before we leap straight into it. - You leap straight into it?
I've only seen you ever creep and stagger.
I deny being a creep.
Ask anybody, except Mr Richardson,
who caught me struggling with his daughter.
I was trying to escape.
I know the feeling.
She's a big girl. I'm lucky to be alive.
I hope you haven't lost us another customer.
You've got to learn to resist their advances
while keeping their weekly order.
She only ever came in for small items.
Well, she got that bit right with you, then.
Does she know that we do delivery on request?
She was working on that assumption.
I have to be up early.
The dog won't lie in.
Where did your father have a mole?
Between his leeks and his potting shed.
I like being up at this time.
When the world is fresh and Mrs Featherstone free.
It's my quality time.
Well, you won't do better than that good woman.
HE SCOFFS
Good woman. They don't call her the Black Widow...
I notice you keep backing off from her.
The dedicated grocer has to remain celibate.
We who handle people's perishables have to be above suspicion.
Thank you, Humphrey.
You may return to your station.
- Someone's having fun. - He's more efficient than you are.
He's my new advertising gimmick.
You know, I can feel myself going paler and paler.
I look like an unfried chip.
It's hard to be efficient because I get no sun.
It only overstimulate the hormones.
They're notorious for it when there's plenty of sun.
A person needs a certain amount.
That Mrs Mauritz,
she avoided a nasty sunburn only by being in the shade...
of a Turkish waiter.
I'm going to look like Dracula.
Dracula, eh?
Sinister but still the women found him attractive.
What if Gastric looked a bit more sinister?
Gastric looks more like a friendly Labrador.
He'd get more respect from Madge
if he had a touch of the nasties from Transylvania.
You think about it.
Eh, you need to think about how we can get rid of these
individual Christmas puddings you bought out of season.
I know... The price was right.
- WOMAN: - Save me a small brown cob.
You see what happens?
You start talking about Dracula and the next thing you know,
a disembodied voice is after your small brown cobs.
10-1, that small brown cob of Mrs Alsop...
The invisible Mrs Alsop.
First Dracula, now Mrs Alsop, the invisible.
I think you half believe this stuff.
All I know is the mysterious, the unexplainable,
is often staring us in the face.
I know that's what your VAT inspector thinks.
Out of season Christmas puddings?
No, it's a sneak preview of next season's Christmas puddings.
How is Mr Newbold?
Slippery.
I volunteered to do his ironing,
but he seems reluctant to let me anywhere near his boxers.
My old granny used to read tea leaves,
but I found you can read a man much better by his choice of underwear.
Beware of jockey shorts.
They should come with a health warning.
I've had three husbands, all in boxers, or even baggier,
the time it takes them to work their way out
gives a girl time to reconsider.
Ah, Cyril's head.
I hope it's brought the rest of you with it.
I'm not buying. I'm just asking.
It says, "Ask inside."
Well, technically, you're not inside, are you?
So, come on, come in.
I'm not buying. Do you understand?
Yes, I know, you've already said that.
You don't need to repeat yourself.
Once you've been in this shop a few times you develop a certain caution.
I'm only asking, mind you.
What's this high-energy food breakthrough?
Christmas puddings?
It's hardly the season.
That's because you think these are ordinary Christmas puddings.
Why don't we do something different?
Because we'd still be the same people.
How different is that?
There's a flaw in that logic somewhere.
OK, why don't we do something that's not different more often?
SHE GASPS
I thought you'd never ask.
I'll provide the wallpaper and paint.
Forget it.
This particular brand has only ever been seen
since those flying saucers were seen hovering over Mexborough.
Because an eyewitness said they looked more like pudding basins.
Christmas puddings of alien origin?
Dropped by a basin-shaped spaceship?
Over Mexborough?
Not just over Mexborough, but as far afield as Adwick-on-Dearne.
Why would aliens be dropping Christmas puddings anywhere?
I'm glad you asked me that because at first it puzzled me,
but then you began to see the diabolical cleverness of it.
- It escapes me. - And me.
This stuff looks harmless, but it contains a secret ingredient
that turned people onto the single-minded pursuit of pleasure.
In Mexborough?
Well, today Mexborough, tomorrow the world.
You see?
Whilst everybody is having fun and making...
You know, making whoopee.
..the aliens would have landed.
How come you know all this stuff?
Because the government is having to work closely with the grocers' federation.
They need our expertise, which is why I'm authorised to sell...
Well, to selected, responsible people only.
Sounds like us.
Can't argue with that.
Well, it's people in our professional grocers' judgment
will be able to handle the effects.
The loss of all inhibitions.
Ooh!
Obviously, you can't just let these go to anybody.
You'll have people going crazy, making whoopee.
Would that be people of both genders?
Yes, yes. And any in between.
This harmless looking piece of duff is basically your Viagra.
Although, we recommend that you use it with...
- Well, a little... - Champagne?
Roses?
Custard.
Now, I'm going to have to ask you to take these from the shop in a brown paper bag.
No problem.
But first, I am required to ask you to swear an oath of silence.
Raise your right hand.
Put your left hand on the custard.
And swear after me...
I promise by this tin of custard...
- BOTH: - I promise by this tin of custard...
Which is exceedingly good value...
I just know Kath's going to say,
"What the hell are you doing buying Christmas puddings?!"
So, we pick the moment and we say...
"Hey, do you know what I fancy right now?
"A bit of Christmas pudding."
And make sure they eat the other half.
Hello!
THEY SCREAM
Oh, you gave me a fright!
Sh, sh! Hey, hey!
Not allowed. If he asks, tell him I sold you a fright.
There's a house rule against giving.
What are you doing behind there?
- Have you got a bed down there? - No, but it's not a bad idea.
Oh.
No, they get me up too early, you see.
My body clock doesn't really run on Arkwright time.
You need a rewind.
Or just a lie in.
At the risk of being forward,
could I ask what you were doing behind the counter?
- Tinkering? - Ah, yes.
The old tinkering... It's been years since I've had a good tinker.
We often wonder, you know,
what goodies are available behind that counter.
Oh, well, at the moment, a stack of Christmas puddings.
- Don't ask. - You're pulling my leg.
Or is that wishful thinking?
Oh, some mischievous spirit inserted into this conversation.
Yeah, yeah.
They do, don't they? Yeah.
Sh! Did you hear that?
Oh, give up.
There's nobody upstairs.
I've just checked, again.
Well, I know how thorough you are.
You probably went up there and forgot what you went for.
You're worse than Mrs Patrick.
She was always hearing things.
Particularly about Mr Patrick.
She claimed she was psychic.
Maybe I'm a bit psychic.
It didn't stop you picking someone nasty for a husband.
He looked so nice in a suit.
Well, what about you?
Yours was no better.
At least I knew that before I married him.
So, why did you marry him?
He told me I was pregnant.
So, what is Madge's problem?
Apart from her long battle against being pleasant.
She's convinced our place is haunted now.
Oh, well, there's always been a disturbing presence there.
It's your Madge.
It is.
She's heard something going bang in the night.
What? At your place?
Don't knock it.
One night, I hope it could be me.
Never heard the bell. You're creeping up on people.
So, this may come as something of a surprise.
It's my fault.
I didn't believe his Christmas pudding story,
which led to him showing me his...
ideas for improved workflow behind here.
Still in the planning stage.
A few wrinkles that we need to... iron out.
I hope it is still in the planning stage.
I passed Madge.
I gave her a wave.
She gave me a look.
Oh, I can see it now.
Her eyes were irresistibly drawn towards you, eh?
Well, if it didn't say, "Drop-dead,"
it were a look that said something like...
"kindly leave the universe."
Which we've noticed you've ignored.
You see, Madge hasn't spotted your darker side.
Darker side?
So you don't think that you've got a darker side? Hm?
CHUCKLING
Try that.
Not bad. What is it?
- 50p. - 50p for that?!
Well, it includes delivery.
What you've just eaten, Gastric, is black pudding.
Oh, I like black pudding.
Ah, you see. That shows your darker side.
It's black pudding.
And dammed expensive at 50p a hit.
What's dark about black pudding, you may ask?
Well, it's made of blood, isn't it?
So, now we've established that you've got a taste for blood.
Have you ever had your family history checked?
We don't speak to some cousins in Newton-le-Fenwick.
But that were their fault.
Have you got any relatives in Transylvania?
Mainly Clitheroe.
Well, that's close enough.
It's clear to me, and to any unbiased person, Gastric,
that you have some Dracula in your DNA.
Oh! How are you today, Mrs Featherstone?
Probably on the downward slope from the prime years, Granville,
but they're still a lot here for persons of an adventurous disposition.
HE CLEARS THROAT
How is Mr Newbold?
I'm still looking for his adventurous side.
I invited him upstairs recently to remove a squirrel from my loft.
Well, you've got to test their basic skills.
And how are his basic skills?
I've no idea. He just removed a squirrel from my loft.
Now, Granville, how would you like to slice me a little bacon?
Half a pound, Mrs Featherstone?
Or, enough for any single person.
You know, Granville, I sometimes look at you and I think,
"Is he wasting his best years, and if so, does he need a hand?"
Shall I leave the rind on, Mrs Featherstone?
Oh, go along with you.
I didn't come in here to get sporty.
Not that I couldn't, if the situation demanded it.
Oh, go on. We're both adults. Leave it on.
What makes you think I can shift the noises from Madge's place?
You're going to impress Madge with your knowledge.
- Oh, she'll just go, "Urgh!" - No, no, she won't,
not when she hears how much you've found out about the troubled spirit
that is roaming her house.
- I don't believe... - Yes, you do!
We discovered that Madge's house once belonged to...
..a Crabist.
- What's a Crabist? - He's glad you asked that.
The Crabists were fanatical followers of a certain...
- cobbler. - You see?
Cobblers already.
No, no... He was a prophet that arose out of Birmingham.
His name was Barry Crab, and that is spelt cu-rah-ab-eh.
- Right? - Shall I have to spell it?
No, no.
It's highly unlikely.
All you have to do is just remember that Barry Crab was hung,
drawn and quartered, right,
in the year 1540 for preaching that
heaven was just outside Stoke-on-Trent.
So, there was once a Crabist in Madge's house.
How does that account for the noises?
Well, his followers all believed that Preacher Crab, right,
would one day return as promised.
Am I to remember all this?
Very unlikely. If you can't remember, just go into a trance.
How do I do that?
That's it. Well done.
That's it. Just do that. Perfect.
While Leroy is getting Gastric ready for Madge,
I thought I might interest you in a little bit of grocer's delight.
Last time we got interrupted.
I know, but I've told Leroy to take his time.
I never know what to wear for being interrupted.
I wish I'd worn something nicer.
Oh, no, don't worry. You look great.
- How does he look? - Early!
- Well, we can come back later. - No, it's too late.
Why is he wearing make-up?
I were wondering that.
If I see any mates, they'll be wondering that.
Gastric is going to impress Madge by banishing the spirits from her room,
so we're trying to lift his image to look a bit more...
Well, you know, sinister.
I still don't know why I'm dressed up like a tart.
It's all right. You look...
You look dishy.
No, no. I don't mean dishy, I mean... What do I mean?
Ludicrous.
Yes, ludicrous... No, not ludicrous.
No, no. He's dressed like that to stop Madge thinking that...
What?
Oh, tell him, will you, Leroy?
- Oh, yeah, pass it to me. - Tell me what?
Mavis?
Well, it's because she thinks you're a...
She kind of sees you as...
Or you could say she has this impression of you as...
Of course, I could be wrong.
Madge thinks you're a wally.
And of course, you are a wally.
But a nice wally.
Oh, for a moment, I thought you were going to say something rude to me.
CAR HORN BLARES
TYRES SCREECH
CLATTERING
- Sh! - I'm sorry.
Right, the ladder's up near Madge's window where she won't see it.
I'm not clamouring up there again.
It's not for you.
It's for me.
I'm going to go up the ladder, in through the window,
and then I'm going to stomp about
- and then I'm going to come out and nip back down the ladder. - All right.
I think.
And all you've got to do is command Barry Crab to leave the premises.
Right, I remember that bit.
- I can do that. - Right, good.
My hero. You will be flavour of the month.
Which month?
Don't confuse him any more, will you?
Right, hold the bottom.
I can't sleep in that room.
Then you'll have to sleep in my room.
Well, you've got cold feet.
Well, I sleep with them.
BANGING
Listen!
BANGING
Have no fear.
The spirit shifter's here.
Oh, give him a try.
What have you got to lose?
What a place to leave a ladder.
Someone might walk into it.
Or walk off with it.
We'll put it in Granville's yard.
I'm getting a good feeling.
Doing something for the community.
That Eric...
..they'll say...
public spirited.
That Eric, they'll say, making a bog off carrying a ladder.
It's heavier than it looks.
So, is life since Mrs Featherstone.
BANGING
That sounds to me like...
..Barry Crab.
I command thee,
leave this house!
BANGING STOPS
Argh!
Urgh! Aw! Ooh!
Ooh!
I'm sorry, Mrs Featherstone.
No, this is more excitement than I've had all week.
'I must stop lying on Mrs Featherstone.
'I'd like to know who moved that ladder.
'Still, at least Gastric finally got a smile from Madge.
'At least he thought it was a smile.
'Lord, keep us free from all flying basins tonight.
'A powerful grip, that Mrs Featherstone.
'Who would believe it took ten minutes to wriggle free?'