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# Once in every lifetime
# Comes a love like this
# Oh, I need you, you need me
# Oh, my darling, can't you see?
# Young ones
# Darling, we're the young ones
# The young ones
(RICK) # Shouldn't be afraid
# To live, love
# There's a song to be sung
# 'Cause we may not be the young ones very long #
(IN HARMONY) Aaaaah.
(MUSIC: ''TWIST AND SHOUT'')
Feel better, you bastard!
(RASPING BLOW)
Will you stop making that revolting noise, Vyvyan?
You know I'm ill. You're only making me feel worse!
You're ill?! I'm the one who's ill. Listen...
(COUGHS)
Nobody feels worse than me, and your shouting's not helping, Rick!
Oh, stop whining, Neil!
God, you're practically brain-dead as it is.
A pathetic little cold won't make much difference!
You're probably not ill anyway, just lying to impress us!
Oh, yeah? How come I'm all hot and sweaty, then?
Well, I think we'd rather not go into that!
Will you two shut up? I'm trying to be ill!
Oh, God! There's nothing left to wipe my nose on.
- Even SPG's all covered in snot. - Oh, too true.
(RASPING BLOW)
(NEIL) Vyvyan, shut up! You're giving me tunnel vision!
(RICK) Stop shouting, Neil!
- Stop shouting yourself! - I am not shouting!
- Yes, you are! - I bloody well am not!
If you want to hear shouting, this is it!
(SCREECHES HYSTERICALLY)
It's funny, but being ill makes me lose my usual tolerant
and easy-going approach to communal living.
Oh, well, how ruddy considerate, Vyvyan. Thank you very much!
Yeah, thanks, Vyv. That bomb's really cleared my sinuses.
- Why aren't you dead? - I'm not discussing it.
You'll be hearing from my solicitors. I'm writing to my M.P.
But you're an anarchist.
Ah. Well, then I shall write to Echo and the Bunnymen!
(KNOCK)
- What's this? - A fish, Mike.
Oh, thanks.
- ''Dear Mr Echo...'' - Why did I do that?
Oh, beginning to regret it, are you?
Of course I am. That was nearly a full bottle of vodka!
That's £7.99 you owe me, ploppy pants.
Oh, stop being so blinking bourjoisie!
All property is theft, Vyvyan.
All right, then. Where's your girlie purse?
(KNOCK)
I didn't finish my sentence. What's this fish doing in my bed?
It's not in your bed, Mike.
Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Vyv.
- Ha-ha! Found it! - Put that back! That's my property!
- You said all property is theft. - Well, yes...
- So, I'm nicking it. - Stop! Thief! Thief!
Thieves rush in where angels fear to tread.
No, it's fools, Neil. Fools.
Thieves rush in where fools fear to tread.
Yes! Andy Williams said that!
- Alexander Pope! - You're a little snob, aren't you?
Wimp! Pervert! Knob-end!
Oh, Vyvyan, what repartee! Sticks and stones may break my bones!
Well, that's the first sensible thing you've said all day.
(KNOCK)
OK, I've got it. What's this fish doing in my bed?
(ALL) What fish?
- Oh... Sorry. - That's OK, Mike.
(KNOCK)
- Just one more thing... - A-choo!
- Has any one got a tissue? - A-choo!
- Stop it, Neil! - I can't stop. A-choo!
A-choo!
- A-choo! - Quick, Vyvyan! The pillowcase!
A-choo! A-choo!
OK! Russell Harty!
A-choo!
Quick, stick his head out the window.
(SCREAMS)
- Ooh! Excuse me, did you throw that? - Yeah! Good shot, wasn't it?
(TYRES SCREECH)
That's a bit extreme. Won't he suffocate?
Very probably, Michael,
but we've got to keep the bogeys off the wall.
A-choo!
Euurgh! Oh, wow! It's really horrible in here.
Why did you have to use Rick's laundry bag?
Oh, well, there's gratitude for you!
It's me who'll have snotty undies for the next two terms.
It's me they're going to be calling ''Bogey Bum''
at the next Friends of Stalin Society ''Show Your Bottom'' competition.
A-choo!
I couldn't find any needles. We'll have to use six-inch nails.
Vyvyan, you can't do acupuncture with six-inch nails.
You better think of something. This bag's getting really full. A-choo!
- I'm going to the chemist. - To get some medicine?
- No, I fancy the girl there. - In that case,
could you get something to clean the toilet with?
- (RICK AND VYVYAN) What?! - I don't think so.
You can't clean the toilet, Neil. It'll lose all its character.
We never clean the toilet, Neil. That's what being a student is about!
No way, Harpic! No way, Dot!
All that Blue Loo scene is for squares.
One thing's certain. When Cliff Richard wrote ''Wired for Sound'',
no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory.
He was living on the limit, like me. Where bleach is for your hair!
Living on Limits? Are you on a diet?
No, I live on the limit, Vyvyan.
I'm a rider at the gates of dawn and I take no prisoners.
I don't know what Neil's on about. Hey!
That's cannibalism. I'd better get some Domestos.
What's Domestos? (BELCHES)
It's this communal street life
that the high-rise block is destroying.
# Father wears his Sunday best
# Mother's tired, she needs a rest The kids are playing up downstairs
# Sister's sighing in her sleep
# Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around
# Our house
# In the middle of our street
# Our house
# In the middle of our...
# Our house...
Right, Neil. I am now going to insert the first nail.
- You may feel a bit of a prick. - So, what's new?
OK, here it goes.
# Then she sends the kids to school
# Sees them off with a small kiss
# She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways...
£180 worth of Durex, please.
Oh, sorry. Force of habit.
Oh, wow! I hope Mike hurries back with the cure.
No, Neil, no. It's Madness this week.
# Our house
# In the middle of our street
# Our house
# In the middle of our...
# I remember way back then when everything was true
# And when we would have such a very good time
# Such a fine time, such a happy time
# And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us, two dreamers
Father wears his Sunday best
# Mother's tired, she needs a rest The kids are playing up downstairs
# Sister's sighing in her sleep
# Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around...
- Out! - So, I'll pick you up at 8, OK?
# Our house
# In the middle of our street
# Our house
# In the middle of our... #
(SIRENS)
Get out! Clear off!
Bloody pop concert in the road.
Go on. Run 'em down!
- I can't do that! - You're a policeman, aren't you?!
They were a great band, Middle Of The Road.
Shut your mouth, Damage!
'Ere, Mr Damage to you, copper.
And nobody tells Mr Damage to shut his mouth.
Not if they wanna keep the head in the vicinity of the shoulders. Right?
I said shut your mouth, Damage!
(YELLS)
A-choo!
We'd better do something before the bag explodes.
Hey, brainy idea.
Maybe sneezing is like hiccups, and you have to give him a shock.
He'll get a shock when he feels this. We've run out of nails,
- so we'll have to use cutlery. - No, Vyvyan. Be sensible.
- I've got to eat off that. - I suppose you're right.
(SCREAMS INSANELY)
My brain's exploded! My brain's exploded!
A-choo!
It didn't work.
I'm not surprised, Vyvyan. It was pathetic.
- You've got to be more subtle. - OK.
Neil, if you don't stop sneezing by the time I count three,
I'm going to cut your bottoms off and ram them up your nose. One...
- Two... - A-choo!
- Right. That's it. - Oh, I wish this wasn't happening!
Mario, my usual table for two. 8.30.
- 2.999 recurring... - Right. Do it!
All right! Nobody move and nothing will happen!
Goodness, how exciting! Are you an anarchist?
No, I am not. I am Brian Damage Balowski.
I am, however, a violent and highly dangerous escaped criminal madman!
- What would you like us to do? - Right, um...
Everybody up against this wall now!
You said nobody move. How can we get to the wall if we can't move?
- What happens if we do move? - Eh?
Oh, God! What happens if anybody moves?
- What happens? - (ALL) Yes!
Oh, right. Terribly sorry. All right.
If anybody moves, I'll show you what happens, right?
This happens, right?
Hi, man. Are you the doctor?
Ah! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Hey, I think that's done the trick! Thanks, Doc.
Thanks, Doc?! Are you being sar-carstic or something, my son?
That's one of my least favourite things, sar-carsm.
(SARCASTICALLY) Really? How incredibly interesting.
I was walking the dog, and this bloke comes up and says, ''Nice day, innit?''
But it wasn't a nice day. It was a little bit cloudy,
which makes him very sar-carstic.
So, acting like nothing happened, I stuck his head in my mouth,
dead casual, like, closed my teeth, and bit his head off!
'Cause I hate people being sar-carstic.
I wasn't, you know, being sar-carstic.
Weren't ya? Well, forget everything I said, then, all right?
What? Everything from when you came in?
Now, if you're not against that wall after three,
I'm gonna blow your heads off, all right? A-one... A-two...
- Yoo-hoo! - Oh, God!
Sorry I didn't knock. Someone's impaled a head on the door.
- Hello, Vyvyan. - Piss off.
That's no way to talk to your mother!
All right, then. Piss off, Mum.
- That's better. - What do you want?
- Well, what're mums for? - I don't know. Having babies?
Don't be so sexist, Vyvyan.
- Sorry, Mum. - I brought you a present.
Your last present was some matches.
- That was a joke! - I was eight weeks old.
Here, excuse me. I'm not actually known for my patience.
Oh! Well, you're probably not Dr Kildare, then!
Well, what've you brought this time?
- A bottle of vodka. - Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Mum.
- This is empty. - Up yours, ugly!
- Cor, what a nasty woman! - (GUNSHOT)
All right, this has now gone on far too seriously long enough by half.
I am now going to phone the authorities,
and if they do not give me, within 20 minutes,
a helicopter, £100,000,
a complete set of steak knives in a presentation box,
tickets to see the Brazilian National Mime Theatre at Riverside Studios,
a little cairn terrier called Bobby,
those little black rubber things that go, ''Nee! Nee! Nee!'' -
a big box full of them,
the complete memoirs of Donald Sinden...
- Oh, very handy! - Otherwise, I blow your heads off.
- Everybody up against that wall. - (RICK) All right.
Oh, damn! Lumme! Lumme! All right, who's responsible?!
- I think I'm quite responsible. - Mike, yeah.
Listen! Somebody has got to clean this up,
and I tell you one thing, matey boy, it's not me.
What does it matter? We'll all be dead in 20 minutes, anyway.
- Yeah. - Oh, no!
Oh, wow!
Oh, heavy, heavy, heavy!
(WAILS)
Why are you upset? You've always wanted to die.
Who's talking about dying? I just remembered -
- my parents are coming round to tea! - (ALL SCREAM)
Don't panic! Worse things happen at sea.
Like what, Mike? Like what?!
Well, you could be on a cruise, having a lovely time.
There's terrible weather. The ship sinks.
You fall overboard. You're drowning. This shark swims up to you
and says, ''Neil's parents are coming in 30 seconds.''
That's when you panic. Come on!
(THUNDER)
All hail McVyvyan, Thane of Corridor!
- Eh? - All hail McVyvyan,
Thane of the Outside Toilet
and that little gravelly patch next to the shed.
All hail McVyvyan, that shall be king of the whole house hereafter!
Are you suggesting that I murder Mike, Rick, and Neil,
in order to have the whole house to myself?
Yeah!
It's a thought, I suppose.
Make a great play!
27... 28... 29...
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
Look out! (WHISTLES)
Hello, Mummy. Hello, Daddy.
- Hello. - Hello.
- Take my coat. - Come in. This is where I live.
These are my friends.
This is Rick. He's studying sociology.
Oh, hello! Pleased to meet you. Sorry. So many essays to write.
I'm surprised my arms aren't falling off!
Perhaps they are! Look out! Bonk!
You have to watch me because I'm a bit nutty.
Aren't I, everybody? A bit nutty?
(BLOWS RASPBERRY)
- Hello. - This is Mike. He's studying, er...
I'm in the school of life, Mrs Pye.
(YELPS)
Oh, dear me. What a ghastly smell.
Yeah, that's Vyvyan, Mummy. He's going to be a doctor.
- How do you do? - How fascinating.
I think I'm going to be sick.
And is this another of your colleagues?
No, that's a violent and highly dangerous...
(LAUGHS) That's Neil's little joke, sir.
Brian. Brian Damage.
Currently working on my PhD in astrophysics, actually.
Recently I did a degree in art history, but it was no use for a job.
- What kind of job had you in mind? - Something like a bank job.
- Nice safe job? - Yeah, possibly. Possibly.
- Did you make your bed? - No, no. I bought it.
Exactly.
Your mother and I are very disappointed, Neil.
You have brought shame on your family, Neil.
I daren't show my face at Lady Fanshaw's bridge evenings,
now you've taken up with those television people.
What sort of monsters are you? I mean, ''The Young Ones''.
Well, it all sounds very good, doesn't it?
But look around you. It's trash!
I mean, even ''Triangle'' has better furniture than you do!
That was designed to fall apart. Rick was going to get hit with it.
I thought you'd be glad that I was doing something worthwhile.
Worthwhile?! I mean, it's a bloody outrage!
It's a waste of a licensing fee - pardon my French.
Why can't you be in one of those decent comedies that your mother likes?
What's the thing called?
- Grange Hill! - That's it!
So, that's settled. We'll organize a protest against school uniforms!
Great! We can use the banners from the last protest,
so that racism wouldn't be an issue.
Good! I'll get Mucker, Trucker, Ducker and Sucker. You get Spaz!
- But I am Spaz! - Oh.
I'll get Spaz, then, but we've got to hurry.
Sorry, Mr Liberal. We're in a hurry.
Hang on, you pair of young scruffy tearaways.
Don't you realize you're influencing millions of children
to talk Cockney and be insubordinate?
Come on. We're the only kids who never say f...
You must be talking nonsense. I don't watch that ghastly programme.
I'm sorry. My mistake. I meant ''The Good Life''.
Oh, yes. That's the one.
(THEME MUSIC)
No! No! No! No!
We're not watching the bloody ''Good Life''!
Bloody! Bloody! Bloody!
I hate it! It's so bloody nice!
Felicity ''Treacle'' Kendal
and Richard ''Sugar-Flavored-Snot'' Briers!
What do they do now? Chocolate bloody Button ads, that's what!
They're just a couple of reactionary stereotypes,
confirming the myth that everyone in Britain is a lovable,
middle-class eccentric, and I hate them!
That was an articulate outburst. I only hope they're not watching.
Well, you can shut up, Vyvyan. You can blummin' well shut up!
Because if you've got anything horrid to say about Felicity Kendal,
you can blummin' well say it to me first!
Rick, Rick... I just did.
Oh! Oh, you did, did you?
Well, I've got a good mind to give you a ruddy punch on the bottom!
- That's the woman I love! - Yeah, and me! I love her, too.
Yes, well, I agree with the spotty twerps on that one.
Felicity Kendal is sweetly pretty. Just what a real girlie should be.
Speaking as a feminist myself, I can safely say this -
Felicity Kendal is a wonderful woman, and I want to protect her.
It's the first time I've heard it called that!
Neil! Say something!
(MUMBLES) That's my dad you're talking to.
Did you see that episode where the pig was pregnant?
Now, that was quite a promising idea, but it was all done so bloody nicely!
We didn't see anything! Even the policeman was nice.
Why shouldn't the police be portrayed as nice occasionally?
You trendy students always give us a bad name!
You mean like ''big jobbies''?
Now you've really asked for it!
Now, I would not have done that if you had been Felicity Kendal.
- Are you all right? - She smashed the balsa wood chair.
Well, this wouldn't have happened
if you'd been doing a nice programme like ''The Good Life''.
That's where we'll put the cabbages.
Okey-dokey, Mikey, young Sonny Jim fella me lad.
- That's where we'll put the caulis. - Ah! Just one moment, Michael.
(SINGS FANFARE)
Very funny, Vyvyan.
Well, you might've laughed, Michael.
It took ages to raid the pet shop and nail 'em to the plank.
Ah! The timeless wonder of the English countryside.
It'd be pretty bloody super
to have a snog in a place like this. Eh, Neil?
I don't feel like it, Rick. I've got work to do.
Not with you, you sick pervy. God!
I meant with a super girlie who's on for some rumpo and how's-your-father.
Never mind that. OK, I've ploughed this bit, right?
And now I'm going to sow it.
This self-sufficiency thing really is amazing.
We sow the seed, right.
Nature grows the seed, and then we eat the seed.
And then, after that, we sow the seed, nature grows the seed,
and then we eat the seed.
And then we sow the seed, nature grows the seed....
Oh, shut up! Shut up! Shut up.
It's pathetic. I mean, what about radical magazines, hmm?
What about kicker boots? Can we grow them? No, we can't.
They beauty of your plan rests on everyone being really into seeds.
No, you don't understand the timeless wonder of it.
Look. We...
- sow the seed... - Right.
Nature grows the seed, then we eat the seed. Then....
Right. Now, shut up.
Get up, Neil, there's a lot of work to be done.
Neil?
Oh, God! Oh, God. I've killed a hippie!
I've killed a hippie, and now I'll have to pay.
I'll get sent to prison and raped in the shower by Mr Big.
Oh, God! Right. Burn the corpse.
Burn the corpse.
Come on, burn!
Burn! Oh, trust Neil to be all soggy!
Burn! Burn!
- Hello. - Hello.
- Hello! - My name's Mick. This is Tez.
- All right, are you? - Yes.
We would've brought Harry, but we don't know anyone called Harry.
Ah. Um... Excuse me.
Er... You're not policemen, are you?
No, we're not policemen.
Oh, yeah! I'm sorry. Look, we've come about the muck.
- Muck? - You know, manure.
- Yes? - We've got a load for your garden.
Well, listen, absolutely nobody, I don't care who they are,
is doing a two-ton poo out here.
Suit yourself. I thought you'd want to cover the hippie you murdered.
Ah. Yes. Yes. Yes, bury him. Bury him.
But it's not a hippie.
It's just a garden gnome, that I cracked.
What a load of crap! It's not a gnome!
It's a hippie. He's killed a hippie, everybody!
Shut up!
So, this is the row of mixed veg. Oh, nicely, nicely. We progress.
The ''grow-anything'' fertilizer has arrived.
Brilliant. We are now completely self-sufficient in fertilizer.
Speaking of which, where's Neil?
Yeah, I told him that if we don't sow the seed,
nature can't grow the seed, and we can't eat the seed.
Ah... Er... He's emigrated,
and he said to say that you'll never see him again.
He's left one of his shoes behind.
- One of his feet, as well! - Bloody idiot.
Yes. I noticed he was hopping when he left.
- Hang on a minute, if you say...? - (OWL HOOTS)
Oh, no. Night-time.
Good grief.
Oh, well. Boing!
- (BOTH) Boing! - Time for bed, everyone.
Lucky Rick only stunned me, eh?
Oh, wow!
- Hello. - Hello.
Anybody watching must have thought it was a negative reality inversion.
Cor, that looked just like a negative reality inversion.
Yes, it did, a bit.
I was right.
- Hello. - Hello.
- Oh, wow!
Rick planted me. I was the seed.
Rick sowed me. Nature grew me. Yeah!
RickI RickI
This is the voice of your conscience speaking.
Shut up! Shut up!
Don't tell me to shut up, you spotty little bastard. I'm your conscience.
You killed Neil, didn't you?
No! No, it wasn't me. It was Vyvyan and Mike, and I'm going to tell.
They didn't bloody well do it. It was youI
- Oh, God! Whose side are you on? - Not bloody yours, mateyI
Then get out of my head, poo-hole!
HaI Try and make me, farty breathI
Rick, tell your conscience to keep its voice down!
I'm trying to sleep!
Oh, come on, Judge Mike! He's a complete bastard. Let's hang him!
I'm the People's Poet! The spokesperson of a generation!
Kids everywhere look to me for inspiration!
Oh, People's Poet, don't die! We'll kill ourselves if you do!
But first, we're going to take off all our clothes!
(GIRLISH SCREAMS)
OiI Stop having a wet dream, you little pervyI
You're supposed to be racked with remorseI
I am! I am!
(WAILS)
Oh, Neil! Neil!
Orange peel!
If only I could see you again.
- Hello, Rick. - (SCREAMS)
Hello, Rick.
Help! Michael! Vyvyan! Neil's come back from the grave as zombies!
(CHEESY MUSIC)
(ANNOUNCER) Good evening, and welcome to ''Nice Time''
with Neil's parents and Brian DamageI