Henpocalypse! (2023) s01e01 Episode Script

1
This programme contains strong
language and adult humour
PANTING
Aargh!
HE SCREAMS
WOMEN LAUGH AND SCREAM
CHANTING: Hens on tour!
Hens on tour! Hens on tour!
SCREAMING
Beverage.
- Hens on tour!
- It would be so great if you
don't spill this one, Zar,
cos of my deposit!
- I'll scrub the stain when we stop, Shelly.
Get the old Dirt Devil out!
Am I right?
- We got any bifters?
- I've got an
eighth. Strong, mind.
50-50 you'll go blind for a bit.
- I've handled worse.
- Oh, I need a wee!
How much further, Shelly?
- What's Google
Maps saying, Veens?
- Sorry, mate. Turned
it off after Kegworth.
Don't want Zuckerberg
knowing where I am.
- Pull over, Shell.
It's my hen do
and I'll wazz when I want.
- OK.
- Oh!
Snotty cow!
Oi!
Don't you judge my daughter!
Honk her!
- No.
- Honk
- No, don't escalate
Oh, my God, my foot slipped!
- Oh, that's your
deposit fucked.
- Nice one, Shell!
- I need your insurance details.
- Punch it!
- No, we need to exchange information now!
- Oh, leg it, she
doesn't know who we are!
- Registration S583 JGM.
- Punch it, Shell!
- Can you please stop telling me to punch it?!
OK, I'm just going
to slow and steady
- CRASH
- Oh, my God!
- How do you like
being rammed, eh?
- I'm really not doing it
on purpose! I'm so sorry.
- Do you want me to
drive? I've got my HGV.
- No, I can flee
the scene on my own!
Just keep calm!
- What are we like?
- I'm so sorry, I'm
really very sorry.
- Bye!
- A bit of Polyfilla and nail
polish, and no-one will know.
- Bye-bye!
- Na-na-na-na, na-na, na ♪
- Whoo!
- This is the middle of bloody nowhere!
- Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I guess I just lost my husband
I don't know where he went
So I'm gonna
drink my money ♪
- Here at last.
- We've made it!
- I got a brand-new attitude
And I'm gonna
wear it tonight ♪
- Let's get the cocktails out!
- I wanna get in trouble
I wanna start a fight ♪
- Yay!
- Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
- For fuck's sake,
let's go. Come on, guys!
- Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I wanna start a fight! ♪
- God.
The hire people will understand
it was an accident, right?
- Yeah. Notoriously
reasonable, car hire companies.
- Let's go get the booze!
- SHOUTING
Baby, can't you see
I'm calling
A guy like you
should wear a warning
It's dangerous
I'm falling ♪
Well, that's us buggered.
- It's a frigging fiasco!
- Veena! Get your arse in here!
- One minute, Jen.
Three adult women can't
make a Bluetooth connection?
Take a look at yourselves.
- With a taste of
your lips I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm
slippin' under ♪
- Who needs Lanzarote, eh, Zar?
- I was very clear
about wanting Lanzarote.
But
..I'm dealing with it.
Don't you know
that you're toxic? ♪
THEY SCREAM
And I love what you do
Don't you know
that you're toxic? ♪
It's getting late
To give you up
Took a sip from my devil's cup
Slowly ♪
- It's the honour of my life being
Zara's bridesmaid, Auntie Bern.
- Your mother insisted.
Go and have a dance, Jen?
- Yeah!
A boogie!
- Those shoes are
shredding your ankles, Jen.
- But my legs look so sexy.
Ooh!
- Bern, could you pop that
bank transfer through?
For your share of the cottage?
- I never move money
after dark, bab.
- Oh!
Jen!
Jen, don't bleed on
things! My deposit!
- I'd put some Savlon on that.
- KNOCKING
There's someone at the door, turn the music off.
- Who's that?
Fuck that!
- MUSIC STOPS
It's the police.
- Oh, Christ!
- God.
- I'm here about a
very serious matter.
- Is this about the hit-and-run?
Oh, my God.
- The world is in
terrible danger
..from a sex bomb!
MUSIC: Sex Bomb by Tom Jones
- Oh, my God, he's a stripper!
- THEY SCREAM
- Note, he had no trouble
making a Bluetooth connection.
- He will dry hump your
face as long as you want.
I've got that in writing.
- Aw, thanks, babe, that's so sweet!
- Hello, I'm Shelly,
chief bridesmaid.
- Whose face am I humping?
- Whoa!
- I've been so bad,
I've been so bad!
- You can give me more and
more Counting up the score ♪
- I've zoomed in too far.
- You can turn me on
upside down and inside out
You can make me
feel the real deal
And I can give it to you any
time because you're mine ♪
Penis colada?
Sex bomb
Oh, baby
Sex bomb, sex bomb
You're my sex bomb
And you can give it to me
when I need to be turned on
Sex bomb sex bomb
Well, you're my sex bomb
And, baby, you can turn me on
Turn me on
And, baby, you can turn me on
Turn me on
Baby, you can turn me on
Turn me on
Oh, baby, you can turn me on
Turn me on ♪
BEEP
Going to the chapel
And we're gonna get ma-arried
Going to the chapel and we're
Gonna get ma-arried
Gee, I really love you
And we're gonna get ma-arried
Going to the chapel of love
Spring it is here and oh-oh-oh
Sky is blue, whoa-oh-oh
Birds all sing
As if they knew
Today's the day
You say I do ♪
- Fuck sake.
- And we'll never
be lonely any more
Because we're
Going to the chapel and we're
Gonna ♪
DRIBBLES HIT BUCKE
I need a bump.
- There's one
Maxwell House granule
or bang on the big felt pen.
- Pen, gimme.
That's barely touched the
sides. What else we got?
- Rub Jen's cystitis
medicine on your gums?
- I've just done a stock-take
on the choccy cock box.
It's not looking good.
That's it for food.
Except what Veena's catching.
- I'd rather starve
than eat that shit.
- Have some respect
for my meat, Zar.
This noble lord of the trees
has given his life to us.
- Of all the wildlife in Wales,
how are you only catching owl?
- Handy, these wax strips.
Basically like a glue
trap on my windowsill.
- Could you not pluck the
noble lord of the trees
while I'm snorting my breakfast, please?
- Sod this.
I've decided. We're
breaking quarantine
and we're going to that
shop in the village.
- Clever girl!
- That's my idea! I've
been saying that for weeks!
- Arses in gear.
We leave in ten.
Go check on him.
And not a word about us
leaving, you hear me?
We don't want him
getting any ideas.
- Hey, buddy!
Sorry. I didn't mean to
interrupt your private time.
- I don't have any private
time. I'm a prisoner.
- Oh! Owl again
today, I'm afraid.
Grr, Groundhog Day!
- That needs emptying.
- Righto!
- I'll be Mother.
LIQUID SLOSHES
- Well, you're certainly
not dehydrated!
- Any news from out there?
- We're officially out of coffee now.
- I mean the outside world!
Survivors, the
authorities, anything?!
- No. Still total blackout.
Nothing since "stay
in your home".
- I'm losing my mind in here!
- I get it.
- How could you possibly get it?
You're not the one shitting
in a chipmunk's caravan!
- Thing is, Drew, you might
be the last man alive.
Men were dropping dead
left, right and centre.
If we set you free and you
die, then that's basic
That's basically genocide.
- I'd happily take my chances out there.
- Sure.
You won't just take our word
for it. I'm the same way.
When everyone was getting their
bumholes bleached, I was like,
"Hang on a minute.
"Bleach? On my bumhole?"
- DREW SOBS
- Hey, hey, it's OK!
I didn't bleach my bumhole!
- This isn't about your bumhole!
If all you're saying is true,
then so many great men are dead.
Jeremy Clarkson,
Jordan Peterson,
Russell Brand
All the great thinkers.
I mean, the loss is
It's unimaginable.
- But how special does
that make you, eh?
- Hold me?
I need human contact.
- Of course! I probably
shouldn't Yeah.
- Henry Cavill
Henry Cavill!
- YELLS: - Cavill!
- Sh, sh, sh.
- Er, thanks. You
can You can stop now.
- Oh. Oh, sorry
if my hair smells.
I've ran out of shampoo so I've
just been using Toilet Duck.
- Can you leave me? I I
need to be alone for a while.
- Sure.
- DOOR CLOSES
Finally, some good
out of this shit-show!
I've lost at least half a stone!
- Yeah, at the end of the day,
princess, dysentery is slimming.
No two ways about it.
- I've managed to gain
weight in the Apocalypse.
- Aww, babe.
- Before we head out, I've knocked
us up some self-defence equipment
to go with your biohazard suits.
First up, mobile branding iron.
Made from a hair
straightener on a power pack.
Heats up in 90 second and it
will melt skin like butter.
- Gimme. I'll happily
brand a bitch.
- OK. Next, exfoliating glove
with attached pedicure tools.
It's not immediately deadly,
but it'll take a nipple off.
- I'll have it.
What a lovely piece of kit.
- And to finish
..sharpened dildo spears. Good
over distance, in case of zombies.
- There are no zombies!
- People say that, and then
they get their brains get eaten.
Oi, Veena!
My baby girl's intended is
not staggering round Droitwich
with his guts hanging out!
- Exactly! A bride knows these things.
Gary's alive and he's
coming to get me.
- Course he is, princess.
- And we're going to get married,
and it's going to be
fucking beautiful!
I don't care how many bodies I have
to drag out of Shugborough Hall.
- Yeah, and we'll be with
you every step of the way.
Love conquers all, Zar.
Right?!
- THEY MUMBLE: - Love
conquers all, yeah.
- Uh-huh.
Thongs on!
- What was that?!
- BOTH SHRIEK
- Soz, caught you with my bell end.
- Gather round.
Mummy wants a word.
Now, we don't know
what's out there.
But remember
..we're from the Dognall Estate.
We know how to crack on in a hellscape.
- Preach, Mum!
- Let's go and take some nipples off!
- Yeah. - Yeah!
- SCREAMING, THEY SQUEAL
What was that?!
- Destroy the brain.
- It's not a fucking zombie!
DISTANT VOICE: -
What's happening?
Guys? Guys?!
- It's Jen.
THEY SIGH
- Deal with this, Zar.
I promised your Auntie
Renee we'd look after her.
- Fine! Come on, back inside.
Jen needs looking after!
- What vape juice you on
there, Bern? Odd smell.
- Ran out of vape
juice weeks ago.
This is anti-freeze
from the motor.
I'm getting mad
visions off it, mind.
All, like, horned
beasts in my peripheral.
Nope. Nothing there.
How's the leg?
- Thanks for popping in, guys.
I know it's a bit grim in here.
- ALL MUTTER DISAGREEMEN
- Shall we have a
catch-up? It's been ages.
Make yourselves comfy!
Look what I made!
To keep me out of trouble
while my leg heals.
I'm doing my fave
bits of EastEnders.
"You slag!" Danny Dyer.
- Great, babes. Good for you.
- I really think I'm
on the mend, Veena.
I've been chucking
oven cleaner down there
twice a day, like you said.
- Lovely.
You wanna take a peek
behind the curtain, Shell?
- No, please.
- Look at the leg, Shell.
- Righto.
- You won't make
a face, will you?
You sort of made a face last
time and it made me a bit
..sad.
- I promise I won't make a face.
- Well? What's the verdict?
- Maybe a touch more Savlon.
Yeah.
- Zara
- I've got this, Mum.
Jen?
Babes?
We're going to the village.
- Wow! Really?
No more quarantine?!
- Well, it doesn't look like
anyone's coming to help us.
- Yeah - frigging council.
Took them 18 months to
pick up my old settee.
Bastards.
- Thing is, we can't take you.
- I'm such a wally!
Why did I not put a
plaster on my ankle?
- Don't beat yourself up. You were
busy being motor-boated by PC Bod.
- I've ruined your hen do!
- True.
- Zar
- To be fair, the apocalypse
is also implicated.
It's a shared blame.
- Thanks, Zar.
You're so good to me.
- Thing is, if we
don't come back,
we can't have you
festering in here.
- I'm sort of festering in
here at the moment, really.
- It wasn't an easy decision
for us, putting you in here.
- God, yeah. We really
ummed and ahhed about it.
- At the end of the day,
it was bad for morale.
The mankiness. - And the chatter.
- So there you go.
- So if we don't come back
and you've had enough
You understand?
The minute it gets too much
Promise?
- OK.
- That's a good girl.
Her mother hasn't got
a leg to stand on now.
Sorry, Jen. Just
a turn of phrase.
- Shame the car's dead.
- She'll be back.
As the War Hog.
- This way.
- Don't think so, babes.
- Look, I've got a
real feeling about it.
- That feeling is wrong.
- Guess we'll see
then, won't we?
- CRACKING
- Shit! What was that?!
Oh, my God! Shit!
Should we go back
to the cottage?
- Get him through the eye socket.
- Shut up, Veena.
Look, fuck that. I've got raging
PMT. I don't care what it is.
I'll rip its face off!
SQUEALS
- Sorry, sorry.
- WHISPERS: - Zara! Zara!
- Sh!
- Zara!
- SCREAMS
ALL SCREAM
ALL YELL
- Gonna hobble you
with my nip glove!
- MUSIC: Love Machine
by Girls Aloud
COUGHS
- Get him, girls!
- HE SHOUTS, CRASH
MUSIC STOPS
GASPS
- Oh, my God.
Our first dead bodies.
- I'm gonna puke! Shit.
- It's true! It's true!
- Course it's true.
Believe women, dude.
- No-one touch anything!
- But I fell on him! What if I've?
- Well, we'll find out in ten seconds.
- How? - You'll be dead.
- What?!
- That's how long it takes, apparently.
- Oh, shit.
- Ten, nine
- Drew, can I just say
- No!
I can't have you talking through
my last seconds on Earth!
- ..six, five
..four, three
..two, one.
- GASPS
- Looks like he
got away with it.
- For now.
Let's get you home.
Mummy's gonna keep you safe.
- He must be immune.
I told you he was special!
- Oh, God. Henry
Cavill really is gone?!
- Yeah. It's a shame, that one.
- I hope he went gentle
into that goodnight.
- I doubt it. Tomasz
Schafernaker's eyes were bleeding.
- That'll keep the bugger in.
Thanks a bunch, Shell.
I'd be eating my own body
weight in Fray Bentos right now
if he ain't got hold
of the window key.
You had one job!
- "One job"?!
I organised this whole hen do.
And I paid for it!
Do you have any idea how much
a handmade cock pinata costs?
And it's muggins here emptying
the big yellow pisspot every day.
- Yeah, well, I'm in no state to do donkey work.
- "Donkey work"?!
- I don't know if
you noticed, Shell,
but my wedding got
cancelled by the Apocalypse.
- Yes, well, human civilisation
also got cancelled,
so that sort of puts your
wedding in perspective.
- How dare you put my
wedding into perspective!
- You can't just sit around
sniffing the big felt tip
and feeling sorry
for yourself, Zar.
You've gotta get a grip
and stop falling apart!
- "Falling apart"? I
am not falling apart!
- Yeah, right.
- Oi, get a wriggle on, you two!
We're haemorrhaging
daylight here!
- We were here five
minutes ago, Zar.
- If my baby girl says
she knows the way,
then she knows the way.
Yeah. I've got my eye on her.
We don't want her getting
too cosy with Drew, do we?
You know, in case, er,
Gary hasn't made it.
- Gary has made it, Mum.
Drew survived - why not Gary?
He's coming for me. I
can feel it in me fanny.
- It's a long way from Congleton
to your fanny, princess.
- Not for Gary.
- Nah, course.
But we wouldn't want Shelly becoming
the mother of the new human race.
Would we?
- What do you mean, Mum?
- It'd be a shame not to pass on
our tits to the next generation.
- True.
- Don't worry, princess.
Mummy's across this.
- Thanks, Mum. I love you.
- I know.
- Seriously, guys, I
remember this exact rock!
Whoa! Hang on!
- You step to my baby
girl, and you step to me!
- Bernadette! Come on. You're
going to aggravate your shingles.
- I know what you did.
- I haven't touched Drew!
- Not that.
Zara's 30th.
- Londis ho!
- Told you I knew where it was.
- There'd better be tampons in
there. This moss is bollocks.
- Right. We're gonna
circle back around
to this conversation later, bab.
Looks like everyone
cleared out pretty quickly.
- We were told to
stay in our homes!
- Contrarians, the Welsh.
Never do what their
English overlords say.
Good on 'em.
Oh!
- Oh, fucking hell, Bern.
- Just a warning poster.
- What does that mean?
- Nothing.
- Over here!
- I'm starving!
- Looks pristine.
- Yeah. Too pristine.
- Can anyone see any Toffifees?
- Wait for my signal!
Clear!
- MUSIC: Sound of the
Underground by Girls Aloud
- My favourite!
- MUSIC STOPS
- So many ruined lasagnes.
- You serious about getting
the car back on the road?
- I'm deadly serious
about the War Hog. Yes.
- Yeah.
Where would you go? Back home?
- Yeah. If there's even the
slightest chance my mother survived,
I cannot leave my
sisters with her.
- Take me with you.
- Hmm. I like a silent car.
- I can be silent! You will
not hear a peep out of me.
Can we bring Drew?
- Oh, you've ruined it now.
I'm not playing gooseberry
in my own War Hog.
- This isn't about my crush. This
is about the future of humanity.
Drew is the Ark. We can't leave
the Ark attached to a radiator
in the middle of
fucking nowhere.
- Why not? I don't
owe the Ark anything.
- Technically, you haven't paid
your share of his fee, so
But don't worry about
that. Forget about that!
Look, I can help you find
a new battery for the Hog!
- War Hog.
It demeans the vehicle
if you shorten her name.
- All right, sorry. War Hog.
- Come on.
There's nothing for us here.
This is a Birds Eye graveyard.
- I'm gonna check in the
back for some hair dye.
Doing my roots with a felt
tip is giving me migraines.
- You know what?
As of right now, this actually
isn't the worst hen do I've been on.
- Get out here! Now!
- Mummy's coming, bab!
- Look!
Someone's been sleeping here.
And doing yoga here!
- Shit! Who?
- We don't know, do we! Jesus,
Shelly. How would we know that?!
- She hasn't gobbled
a single Nob.
That's inhuman self-control.
- Shit, guys!
She's doing her Kegels!
She's a psychopath!
- I really don't
like this bitch.
- She's not that
keen on you, either.
A sentiment shared by my
car insurance company.
Drop my Kegel balls.
Stat.