Last of the Summer Wine (1973) s23e08 Episode Script

Exercising Father's Bicycle

Hello.
Er, Mr Simmonite? Oh, it's getting too big.
It's time you sold it.
Time I sold it? Good lad! I do like a volunteer.
I'm going to be this area's number one guide and native tracker.
I'm going to know every twig.
That'll be handy if ever you need a twig.
"That Billy Hardcastle," they'll say, "knows every twig.
" You've always known every twit.
Like attracts like.
Twig.
T-wi-g.
Here, animal tracks and signs.
I've been swotting up.
Show me any picture.
Ask me what it is.
Go on.
Well, listen.
Don't quote me on this.
I mean I realise it's highly unlikely, but itwell, it .
.
it looks like dung.
Nice dry bit, though.
It IS dung.
Yeah, er, how long have you been collecting pictures of, er? Tha's got to know what signs the animals leave.
You're not bringing your work home? You're not carrying samples, are you, Billy? They're all right - keep 'em in a tin.
Yes, the thing that interests me about this, Billy, is did you wash your hands? I don't handle it.
I use a little wooden fork tha gets from t'chippy.
Oh, that's a bit lace curtain for the Last of the Mohicans.
I know.
Call me a Jessie, but I'm gonna be ready for when any call comes.
When the call comes? He's got the animals ringing him up to tell him where they've left it.
Tha'll not laugh when I'm known as Hardcastle of the Hills.
Oh, I think a faint smile is called for.
Tha's seen it on t'films.
Everybody hopelessly lost, then out of t'jungle steps a figure clad only in his handkerchief, and they're home and dry.
AA or RAC? Billy! Promise me you'll never step out round here clad only in your handkerchief.
Even your best handkerchief.
Think, Billy.
Where would you keep your tin? Nesting or just resting before you have to fly all the way to Africa? He enquires hopefully.
I thought if I came up here to catch your attention, if Pearl sees me, I can say I'm checking the slates.
Howard's got a slate loose.
Comes as no surprise to his friends.
I wonder if you'd do me a little favour, Cleggy? I don't talk to strange birds, Howard.
Oh, don't be like that, Cleggy.
Tell him we'll keep him safe from the neighbour's cat.
That's one creature I'm never going to collect in my tin.
Keep him talking while we nick his ladder.
Right, I'm looking you straight in the beak now, Howard, and I want a straight answer.
What is the nature of this help wanted? Well, you're aware that sometimes I bump into this certain young lady.
Lots of bumps under the bridge.
I wouldn't do anything to offend the young lady.
It's just that circumstances arose in which I had to throw her over this wall.
I can understand how she might take exception to that.
It was an emergency.
There was somebody coming.
Could somebody explain to her that it's the kind of thing I'd only do in extreme situations.
Sorry, Howard, but I have this rule.
I never get involved with ladies who get thrown over walls.
Mr Simmonite? The hut behind you.
Go straight in.
Thanks.
Go straight in.
He's not one for ceremony.
CHICKENS SQUAWK Do you think it's significant that we know all these barmpots? Some perched on roofs, some crawling about in fields.
Obviously our kind of people.
Fox.
Although admittedly he's not the kind of person you could cheerfully share his packed lunch with.
Speaking of our affinity for barmpots, here's young Simmonite.
And badly out of breath.
You're not dying, or anything inconsiderate, are you? I'm not dying.
I've just been in a hurry.
Some persistent headbanger's under the impression I owe money.
Just like his father.
Do you think so? Oh, I wish I'd known him.
That's what they all said.
Who said? The people he owed the money to.
What's he doing on his knees? He's studying to become an expert in dung.
He collects animal droppings.
Is there any money in it? It's more of a hobby.
They say my father was barmy.
They were right.
He WAS barmy, and I have every hope and confidence that wherever he is, he's still barmy.
In what way was he barmy? What did he used to do? Anything.
Often by bicycle.
Renowned for his skill on a bicycle.
And funny women.
Especially that old bicycle.
He used to say a bicycle is like a violin.
The old ones give the best performance.
"My old bike," he'd say, "is like a Stradivarius.
" I don't suppose it's worth as much.
He wouldn't part with it.
You're kidding! No.
There wasn't much your father couldn't do with that old bicycle.
Could have been in the circus.
And often, when you were with him, it felt as though it was.
GROWLING Billy's found something.
I say, petal.
It's me, love.
What are you doing up there? I thought I'd just check the slates.
You dozy beggar! You're not reliable on the ground, never mind going astronaut.
I seem to have lost a ladder.
Would you mind looking for a ladder? How can you lose a ladder? It was easy.
I think it's been stolen.
There's more to this than slates.
You've been up to something.
It's quite uncomfortable up here.
Aye, it looks as though it might be.
It just goes to show.
There's always a bright side.
Aren't you going to help me down? You what? When for once I know where you are? I nearly threw it out.
Would have been a shame.
Your father could do everything with that bike but make it talk.
It squeaked so much I thought it COULD talk.
Hey-up! There's some droppings down here.
Finders keepers.
All yours, with our compliments.
Just imagine.
Me father famous on that old bike.
You shouldn't wind him up.
Oh, I don't know.
He's enjoying it.
Makes him feel closer to his old man.
Hey-up, chaps, have a look at this.
Mr Simmonite? We were just talking about him.
Oh, yes? He's dead.
Dead? Oh, dear, I'm very sorry to hear that.
My clients'll be very sorry to hear that.
Excuse me.
Thanks, fellas.
You've challenged somebody to a duel? The mortgage advisor.
Oh, Barry! What if he puts our repayments up? It's got nothing to do with the mortgage.
It's apersonal matter.
You're both in love with the same woman.
I bet it's her with the leather skirt.
Oh, Barry! The road to dirty sinks is filled with leather skirts.
You won't be happy with a dirty sink.
It's nothing to do with a woman.
It's a something deeply personal.
Are you going to stop torturing me, Barry, and tell me what it is? He laughs at me laptop.
I love that laptop.
It's not as fast as his, but it corners better.
I've got spreadsheets to die for.
I'll tell me mother.
I don't care.
Well, you usually do.
Look, this is a matter of honour, Glenda.
I've issued a challenge, slapped him with a glove.
He's accepted.
We're bound by historical bonds to settle this matter once and for all.
So that's where your other glove is.
I could've sworn I brought it back.
You're always looking for excitement, Barry.
We're just back from Cleethorpes! I will admit a man needs a spark of danger in his life.
He needs a sense of living on the edge.
Oh, Barry! He needs to gamble occasionally with disaster.
You're not really going to tell your mother, are you? RATTLING Where did he find that? Funny you should say that.
It's what me mam said when she saw the lady who became my wife.
It's his father's old bike.
He's riding it for sentimental reasons.
Couldn't he find quieter reasons? Sets your teeth on edge.
So, naturally, we thought of you.
Flatterer.
We can apply oil, but at the end of the day it's still a tatty old bike.
To the eye and ear maybe, but his father could perform wonders on this bicycle.
As several ladies could testify.
My old dad.
Bit like that, eh? Let's just say that he found life very wearing on his trousers.
Your father was a romantic.
He loved all the things in life that were no good for your trousers.
Beyond that, our lips are sealed.
When have yours ever been sealed? It's not always me.
It's an echo.
(Echo, echo.
) Whilst you're at it, Wesley, the brakes aren't too clever.
Brakes? Your father never had any brakes.
All his life, your father went brakeless.
He wasn't a stopping sort of person.
He was more your galloper.
And he's dead.
Which says something.
Give the lad some brakes, Wesley.
Are you going to die or are you going to buy? I'll be all right in a minute, Auntie.
Are you sure? If there's any doubt, let's get the buying done first.
I've been on a roof all morning.
I think I've got altitude sickness.
Altitude sickness? What have I got for altitude sickness? How about a footstool? You can't get much lower than a footstool.
I know what I want.
A small gift for a certain young lady.
All perfectly harmless.
But I think I'm under suspicion, so I can't deliver it in person.
I wondered if you would undertake to make a delivery at three o'clock in the park to a young lady who'll be waiting by the duck pond.
I can attend to that.
No problem.
In absolute confidence, of course.
That'll be extra.
I'll have to go.
I'm under suspicion already.
Just choose something small and personal.
Like one single flower.
These little things can mean so much.
It doesn't sound like much to me.
Something a young lady would like.
For delivery in the park, at three o'clock, near the duck pond.
No problem.
You're a life-saver.
Oh, don't say that, or that'll be extra too.
What kind of things did me dad do, then? What I remember most was the way he'd swing himself into the saddle.
He was great at that.
We all admired that.
Saw it once in a cowboy film and that was that.
Bicycles in a cowboy film? Well, no.
It was a horse, actually.
And that had no brakes either.
It was a fancy horse-move your father adapted for the bicycle.
He used to run alongside the bicycle until he got up a fair speed and then leap into the saddle.
The Compo flying start - a thing of beauty.
You have to bear in mind what a lot of things there are to get exactly right on such a small saddle.
His father could do it, he can do it - it's in his genes.
If he gets it wrong, he'll be only too aware of what's in his jeans.
I wish tha'd shut up.
Me cringe reflexes are coming out in sympathy.
Don't put him off.
At this point, he needs encouragement.
Have you ever thought of lying for a living? Most of the jobs are already filled.
Off you go, then! It's too late to start being sensible now.
How can a bloke run? The pedals get in the way.
Nobody said it was easy.
I'll get the hang of it.
I will.
I'm sure he'd want me to try.
Will somebody tell me what he used to do about this? Exactly what you're doing.
You see, you're getting it already.
The lad's a natural.
How long does one keep them on the roof? You have to judge when it's the right time.
How do you do that? Is there a code of practice? Probably a European regulation.
As a rough guide, I'm inclined to leave them till they change colour.
They go from dusky pink toward blue.
Once they go blue, it's time to bring 'em down.
Howard must look terrible blue.
He doesn't look that good dusky pink.
They go some funny colours.
They're never any good under pressure.
They're not so hot when things are slack.
Excuse me, I wonder if you ladies could help.
As long as you don't start changing colour.
Colour? What she means is, are you inclined to turn a funny colour? You don't have to answer if you think it might incriminate you.
You've heard that unfounded rumour about Mrs Muscroft.
He's changing colour now, look.
At least it's not blue.
I've no reason to change colour.
I deny changing colour.
They can't see it from their side.
I'm here in all innocence looking for Mr Simmonite, having been misinformed that he's dead.
Never mind him.
What's this about you and Mrs Muscroft? It's all right you lot giggling.
Better than being like you, in pain.
Don't begrudge us our simple pleasures, Tom.
It's workshare.
Thee do the pain, we do the giggling.
I don't see YOU jumping on a moving saddle.
Don't think we couldn't.
These legs are no strangers to a moving saddle.
They look strange enough from here.
That's just the outside.
On the inside they're perfectly normal legs.
I don't see you lot volunteering to show me how.
Stand back! Stand back, while I fling these legs over a moving bicycle.
We used to be able to do it.
We used to be able to touch our toes.
Though I never understood why it was a priority.
Where's our Barry fighting this duel? Our Barry fighting a duel? Bear with him.
He'll be with us in a moment.
You must admit, it doesn't sound like your Barry.
What're they using - ballpoints at 20 paces? Wipe that grin off your face.
Your daughter's worried.
SHE worries if he ties his own shoelaces.
Is it love or incompetence? Mine's not so bad at tying shoelaces, but then he's not so far to go as many another.
We'd better get the car and look for him.
I'd rather be fighting a duel.
It must be safer than sitting at the back of some cars.
Oh, that's better.
That's taken the pain away.
Where's that bicycle? I'm ready to go.
I once had to undo a Mrs Liversidge.
I wouldn't know where to start.
She was chained to some railings.
Oh, that Mrs Liversidge? Oh! Is he in a fit state, do you think, to be running with a bicycle? I shall investigate.
Where's he gone? Ah, I did it! I leapt into a moving saddle.
Of course, he could be lying.
Did you check if Mr Liversidge had chained her to the railings? He had a good alibi.
She was a widow.
Well, come on, then.
Tell me what me dad used to do next.
He used to fold his arms.
Just like a Russian dancer.
Right.
Just like a BAD Russian dancer.
Oh! Oh, Barry! Can't you just not go? Oh, how can I? I challenged him in front of the entire office.
He accepted in the presence of the lady who's about to become the second Mrs Mortgage Advisor.
We can't back out now.
Barry! I hope you'll not be using anything sharp.
Mr Hardcastle is going to supervise.
We're not fools.
We shall be hitting each other with quarterstaffs.
Isn't that dangerous? Of course it's dangerous! That's what duels are for.
It's all right for men.
Going off for adventure.
It's women who have to sit at home and weep.
You don't have to weep.
I shall be back for tea time.
Shouldn't you be wearing a helmet or something? Not till I get there! Kiss me, Barry, and then go.
And don't look back.
Oh, Barry! Oh.
I might even be back BEFORE tea time.
Oh, go on.
Come on.
Excuse me.
I wonder if you can help me.
I'm looking for Mr Simmonite.
Would you bear with us a moment, sir.
He's got feathers in his hair.
So? Should we be standing talking to people with feathers in their hair? What do you want us to do, circle the wagons? I'm sorry, sir, I have to ask you to assume that you haven't seen us.
It's a confusing town, is this.
It has a personality all of its own.
Could I ask why I haven't seen you? We're undercover.
But you're in uniform.
That's the beauty of it, sir.
Nobody spots us being undercover when we're in uniform.
You could understand this place better if it had a great big wall all round it.
I'll bet he's not dead.
I don't believe he's dead.
I never thought he was.
Just a bit slow at starting.
Sorry, I didn't realise I was speaking out loud.
No need to apologise.
I've grown accustomed to the odd ways of men.
They're certainly an odd lot round here.
Have you had a bad experience? Yes, thank you.
I've no time for another.
I'm looking for someone.
Aren't we all? He used to jump a wall on his bicycle? Sometimes he'd jump the wall on his bicycle.
Quite often, he used to run INTO the wall on his bicycle, then sail OVER the wall without his bicycle.
It gets worse.
When did he do this? At times like this, when he'd just left the pub.
They say alcohol gives you a lift.
So what you're saying is, my old dad died before he ever grew up.
Yes, yes.
He timed it very nicely.
Off you go, little daring person.
A good long run and plenty of speed.
Have you ever done this? No, but he's UNDONE a Mrs Liversidge.
YOU wanted to do what your father used to do.
I was thinking more of beer and funny women.
A good run and start way back up there.
We'll give thee a signal.
Look out! Here he comes.
What's that he's got on his face? At least Billy keeps his in a tin.
I wonder if this tall person has the time.
Are you waiting for a certain gentleman who must remain anonymous? Waiting? I've been waiting for ages.
So long that anyone less faithful might be open to alternative offers.
Well, he sends his apology, cos he's unable to attend personally, but he hopes you'll accept his gift of a single bloom.
How thoughtful! Where is it? I'll show you.
At the risk of sounding negative, I'd say we've lost him.
Oh, we haven't lost him.
We just don't know where he is, that's all.
That's a relief.
Not that he's speeding.
He just hasn't been off-road as often as us.
Stop nit-picking.
We've been on the road most of the time.
They say bouncing about's good for your kidneys.
Personally I'd like to know where my kidneys are.
Your kidneys sound a lot like my Howard.
Oh, I say! I'm sure I saw Barry's car in that field.
Right, then.
Let's have a bit of "Have at thee!" I want you to meet together in the middle of the plank.
Watch this! This should be worth seeing.
Right, then.
I want a good, clean duel.
First one to draw blood wins.
I wish he hadn't said that.
Go on, then, go on.
Parry, Barry! Go on, Barry, that's it.
.
.
Wait for it, some idiot always falls in.
How come she was chaining herself to railings? It seemed rude to enquire.
Pity! It might have been some sort of club the missus could've joined.
Bring your own railings.
I could have bought her some.
For her birthday.
Ah, I think that's sweet.
If you keep spoiling her, she's always going to be difficult.
That's true.
Let her buy her own railings.

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